THE ENCHANTED COTTAGE

So this idea that I was expected to go to school EVERY day really took me by surprise...it wasn't even optional....five days every week was a real bother for someone as busy as I was. The big rage around that time was an outdoor log cabin....I think Sears sold them in a kit, and it was about the size of a tree house, but had four sides with windows and a door, and of course I was less afraid to beg for one of those that I was for a black baby doll. My Dad agreed, and soon he and my Uncle were busy putting my new little cabin together in the back yard. Now while I think my Dad was envisioning a sort of an OK CORRAL for his unusual little son, the little son was picturing more of an Enchanted Cottage. Billy next door was thinking we'd use it as a hideout, or a camp for gunfights while I was thinking that it would absolutely charming for afternoon high tea. Susie and I of course prevailed, proper curtains were hung and tied back with cute little ribbons, wall to wall carpeting from a remnant in her gameroom was installed (poorly) by the two of us, and we were looking at windowboxes in magazines when my Dad put his foot down.

One of my friends says that he knew he was gay when one day he heard the news that Judy Garland had died....and he fainted....and he was nine. I knew something was up with me...and maybe my Dad did too...and picturing his son as Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm instead of Hopalong Cassidy might have been a not so subtle hint about some difficult times ahead. What was a tea house without windowboxes and petunias? I opted to abandon the shack until I was about ten and decided to turn it into a roadside shrine in honor of the Blessed Mother and weary travelers. My childhood experiences were beginning to evolve into constant differences between what I was expected to do and what I had absolutely no interest or intention of doing. Except for the constant interruption of that damned school stuff, I was just as happy as a lark.