Only went to Coney Island once, after running into John Epstein at a Leonard Bernstein concert at Lincoln Center in July, 1965. Had not seen John for two weeks since that crazy party at Jimmy Mathis's weeks earlier. He took me to a gay bar in the Village, and then we went to Coney Island. Later we went back to John's apartment at Bleeker and Macdougall, where we had some kind of an encounter. I knew I was homoerotic, but hardly knew what to make of open homosexuality...still don't. I had always hoped to marry and have a family. I never did, but I have been at least technically celibate for sixteen years. This has been my "Coney Island of the Mind", a nightmare of sorts, but still with "hope" up ahead.
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