Trolling for ideas

The 70s lasted ten years (at least, although, like the 60s, they seem to have never ended for some people.)
My stay in Hot'anta lasted just under nine months in 1970.
From my coming out (to myself at least - and one other guy) on July 4, 1969 until I left the "scene" for several years in late 1978, there should be lots and lots of stories to tell.
I know I've told several to friends over the years. And I've reflected on several more while on long interstate drives by myself.
So why can't I conjure them up now to continue my "book?"
Let's see, I've written about meeting Danny and the subsequent relationship and breakup, about Larry and our shopping trips, about Charlie and boys' inseams, about the bar raid I escaped from, and about late Saturday nights at the Marriott.
What else happened in almost nine months?
Well, there was the night with the guy who - while we were in bed - regaled me with how he liked to "beat up on" his ex-boyfriend. That might have possibilities.  I didn't get "beat up on" that night, but I did leave early in the morning only to find my car battery was dead.
Then there was the night I met up with my crosstown morning radio competition at a dance bar and he was there with his boss, who was apparently his boyfriend. (And he worked for a country station, no less!)  Yeah, that has possibilities.
As for Joey, there were many adventures to his mountain home in Sevierville, but none really gay-themed.
Oh, and then there was "boxer shorts" boy who wanted to be boyfriends but wanted to make sure no one else knew.  He was two years younger than me and looked older than me, but was sure others would consider me an "older man" (I was 26) and be suspicious. Yeah, paranoia has possibilities.
And then there was "I'm not gay but I like to go to gay bars and sleep in the same bed with gay guys" boy.  Paranoia and identity crisis there. He wasn't gay, but only went to gay bars and wore nylon jockey shorts.  
Maybe I can use my road trip this week to flesh some of these out, so to speak.
Any preferences for where I should start first?  Let me know.

Inspiration

Here it is, the first decade of the 21st century. And my stories all take place in the eighth decade of the 20th century, the 1970s.
There's a reason for this.
It was a different time for everyone, but especially if you were gay.
Stonewall had happened.
AIDS hadn't yet happened.
Of course it could be argued that our attitudes and behaviors in the 1970s made everything much worse for us in the 1980s, but that's for someone else to write about.
I started these stories as part personal memoir, to retain for my own memory a time in my life that was special and pivotal.
Then, as other, much younger guys read them, I realized it was a time they not only never knew but wouldn't understand if told about it from someone who wasn't there.
I try to tell the stories as if the 80s never happened (nor the 90s nor this decade.)  I know that's not entirely possible, but these stories all happened without an awareness of the future. Had I written them at the time they would not be with any awareness of future events.
So I try to write as if it's still the 1970s and I'm keeping a journal.
Sure there's a patina of nostalgia here. But I hope to keep an honesty about these stories.
If you read them, don't be asking, "Yes, but what about what all this led to?"
Just try to understand how we were then, or as the movie title and song put it, understand
"The Way We Were."

Getting it all together

With the help of some new Apple software called Pages, I've finally assembled all my stories in a book form, one that allows for auto updates of the table of contents, etc.
So now, if I add another story I can place it where it belongs in the timeline.
There are other stories to be told.
I plan to give one to my friend Derek this week. He's read most of them, but not all in order, I don't think.
I already gave one to another friend last week. He's supposed to give me some feedback tomorrow.
They, along with my friend Anthony who I need to get an updated copy to soon, are good for this sort of analysis.
They all understand my motivation and need for writing these true chronicles.
Heck, they even seem to understand my choice in underwear!  (I most recently shopped at VF outlet, if that's any clue. OK, let's say I now wear what Danny wore in the first story in this collection.)
Anyhow, these are all true stories. They all chronicle a period of time that seems not so much to have been forgotten, but to not be understood at all.

Click the link to the right for the stories.