I
felt like Johnson’s laughter was exaggerated as in too loud, too much like a
billy goat’s bleating, just too obnoxious, but as I came to understand much
more about him and his habits, I found his laughter a minor detraction. He was
a man given to life-long drug use and alcohol abuse. He had been adopted by
well-meaning parents who found they couldn’t easily relate to this new family
member, could barely cope with the challenges he presented: impulse control,
ADHD, bipolar swings, obsessive-compulsive behaviors, and eventual drug-induced
schizophrenia. It took them decades to understand all that; it took me years to
begin to fathom the dimensions of his life. Originally I knew only his manic laughter.
felt like Johnson’s laughter was exaggerated as in too loud, too much like a
billy goat’s bleating, just too obnoxious, but as I came to understand much
more about him and his habits, I found his laughter a minor detraction. He was
a man given to life-long drug use and alcohol abuse. He had been adopted by
well-meaning parents who found they couldn’t easily relate to this new family
member, could barely cope with the challenges he presented: impulse control,
ADHD, bipolar swings, obsessive-compulsive behaviors, and eventual drug-induced
schizophrenia. It took them decades to understand all that; it took me years to
begin to fathom the dimensions of his life. Originally I knew only his manic laughter.
I
met Johnson when giving free massages at an AIDS clinic. By the time I was
finished giving him that first massage, I was pretty much in love with this crazy
man with loud voice, boisterous laughter, and keen wit. While I observed these
attributes I also became aware of his odor, first wondering why some guys came
to massage without bathing and then realizing the smell wasn’t awful and then
really liking it. Oh those pheromones! They cause problems for the unsuspecting.
met Johnson when giving free massages at an AIDS clinic. By the time I was
finished giving him that first massage, I was pretty much in love with this crazy
man with loud voice, boisterous laughter, and keen wit. While I observed these
attributes I also became aware of his odor, first wondering why some guys came
to massage without bathing and then realizing the smell wasn’t awful and then
really liking it. Oh those pheromones! They cause problems for the unsuspecting.
Johnson
came to the monthly massages at the clinic rather faithfully; something I only
later realized must have required a focus he could barely sustain. I always
smiled when I saw his name on my list for the day. As I got to know him more,
heard bits and pieces of his story, came to admire his intellect, his
vocabulary, and the structure of his thought (the man was no mimic, no parrot),
my interest in him deepened.
came to the monthly massages at the clinic rather faithfully; something I only
later realized must have required a focus he could barely sustain. I always
smiled when I saw his name on my list for the day. As I got to know him more,
heard bits and pieces of his story, came to admire his intellect, his
vocabulary, and the structure of his thought (the man was no mimic, no parrot),
my interest in him deepened.
Occasionally
I would run into him away from the safety of the massage contract. On these
occasions we would drink coffee or beer or we would simply talk. When he
started coming to my apartment for his massages, I learned much more. I also
found my defenses rising.
I would run into him away from the safety of the massage contract. On these
occasions we would drink coffee or beer or we would simply talk. When he
started coming to my apartment for his massages, I learned much more. I also
found my defenses rising.
Some
years into our friendship I realized Johnson’s life was becoming increasingly
disorganized. For him I provided a kind of safety net I suppose; he provided me
the entertainment of his stories of life in places I’d never go, for instance,
sleeping on a grate in front of a public building along East Colfax, working as
a cook in a restaurant while high as a kite on some drug, or getting into a
drunken fight on his way home from a gay bar. When I realized he spent some of
his time homeless, living on the street, I told a friend that I felt Johnson
was hoping I’d invite him to live with me. I was trying to figure out how to
avoid such a request.
years into our friendship I realized Johnson’s life was becoming increasingly
disorganized. For him I provided a kind of safety net I suppose; he provided me
the entertainment of his stories of life in places I’d never go, for instance,
sleeping on a grate in front of a public building along East Colfax, working as
a cook in a restaurant while high as a kite on some drug, or getting into a
drunken fight on his way home from a gay bar. When I realized he spent some of
his time homeless, living on the street, I told a friend that I felt Johnson
was hoping I’d invite him to live with me. I was trying to figure out how to
avoid such a request.
One
winter afternoon he stopped by my apartment. We talked, which of course meant we
also laughed together. I fed him. After dark descended, he prepared to leave
but said he needed to give me the perishables he had got at a food bank. The
overnight temperature was predicted for 10° F. I realized he wasn’t simply
going out to a bar; he assumed he might end up on the street and lose the
perishables to frost. I told him to stay. He stayed two nights and then got
into some housing through his case manager’s connections.
winter afternoon he stopped by my apartment. We talked, which of course meant we
also laughed together. I fed him. After dark descended, he prepared to leave
but said he needed to give me the perishables he had got at a food bank. The
overnight temperature was predicted for 10° F. I realized he wasn’t simply
going out to a bar; he assumed he might end up on the street and lose the
perishables to frost. I told him to stay. He stayed two nights and then got
into some housing through his case manager’s connections.
I
started seeing the effects of the drugs he took, like the time in a massage
when he wouldn’t turn over for the face-up work. He laughed with quasi embarrassment
saying he’d taken X the night before. Or the time I saw him intimidate another
guy who he thought was looking at him strangely. Or the time I met him at a
sandwich shop and pushed food on him as he sat across from me, his eyes at
half-mast. He never asked to move in with me, perhaps not wanting to have me
refuse him. I came to appreciate that he treated me with respect, even love.
started seeing the effects of the drugs he took, like the time in a massage
when he wouldn’t turn over for the face-up work. He laughed with quasi embarrassment
saying he’d taken X the night before. Or the time I saw him intimidate another
guy who he thought was looking at him strangely. Or the time I met him at a
sandwich shop and pushed food on him as he sat across from me, his eyes at
half-mast. He never asked to move in with me, perhaps not wanting to have me
refuse him. I came to appreciate that he treated me with respect, even love.
His
difficulties increased when he got into legal trouble over drugs. Mostly Johnson
seemed to live alone or perhaps he just failed to mention anyone important in
his life. Finally I met a lover of his, a chef. The last time I saw this
partner was when we went together to visit Johnson in prison. The incarceration
served to end that affair.
difficulties increased when he got into legal trouble over drugs. Mostly Johnson
seemed to live alone or perhaps he just failed to mention anyone important in
his life. Finally I met a lover of his, a chef. The last time I saw this
partner was when we went together to visit Johnson in prison. The incarceration
served to end that affair.
I
got over whatever naiveté I had when I heard the stories from him about
surviving in a flophouse, living on next to nothing while he awaited disability
insurance, squandering the SSI back-pay settlement on drugs, and being tied up
and tortured in someone’s dungeon one happy New Years Day. He always laughed,
mining each experience for its humor.
got over whatever naiveté I had when I heard the stories from him about
surviving in a flophouse, living on next to nothing while he awaited disability
insurance, squandering the SSI back-pay settlement on drugs, and being tied up
and tortured in someone’s dungeon one happy New Years Day. He always laughed,
mining each experience for its humor.
To
you listeners who may be prone to exaggeration I say, “No we did not have sex.”
Such was not part of our friendship although I certainly had thought about having
sex with Johnson any number of times. I just was not willing to become the
partner of a drug addict. I was more self-preserving than that. Oh, I loved
this sucker—body, mind, personality, odors, wit, and openness. I liked that he
liked and trusted me. I loved him starting with those strange pheromones, the
feel of his muscles, and the beauty of his underarms. I even liked when he
showed up on my table with safety pins in his nipples. I liked our hugs. I
liked that he protected me from his worse times. I responded to his
desperation. I loved our correspondence from his prison stays, was intrigued
with his wild bad-boy personality; and I appreciated that he didn’t try to make
me enter his world.
you listeners who may be prone to exaggeration I say, “No we did not have sex.”
Such was not part of our friendship although I certainly had thought about having
sex with Johnson any number of times. I just was not willing to become the
partner of a drug addict. I was more self-preserving than that. Oh, I loved
this sucker—body, mind, personality, odors, wit, and openness. I liked that he
liked and trusted me. I loved him starting with those strange pheromones, the
feel of his muscles, and the beauty of his underarms. I even liked when he
showed up on my table with safety pins in his nipples. I liked our hugs. I
liked that he protected me from his worse times. I responded to his
desperation. I loved our correspondence from his prison stays, was intrigued
with his wild bad-boy personality; and I appreciated that he didn’t try to make
me enter his world.
I
know that some folk who knew him would think I exaggerate Johnson’s good
aspects, but I believe I do not. Like every person I have known, he was a blend
of good and bad. Neither attribute is absolute. For me the art of living is to
find a balance that one can sustain without bringing unwanted harm to others.
know that some folk who knew him would think I exaggerate Johnson’s good
aspects, but I believe I do not. Like every person I have known, he was a blend
of good and bad. Neither attribute is absolute. For me the art of living is to
find a balance that one can sustain without bringing unwanted harm to others.
Of
course I am not unaware of the sometime unwanted aspects of things. I am pretty
sure Johnson did not want to die from an overdose. Probably he didn’t expect
the coke he took to be enhanced. Still, he certainly knew the risks. He wasn’t
always wise, but in his way he lived life rather fully. I don’t defend him but,
I did love him in ways appropriate, and that is no exaggeration at all.
course I am not unaware of the sometime unwanted aspects of things. I am pretty
sure Johnson did not want to die from an overdose. Probably he didn’t expect
the coke he took to be enhanced. Still, he certainly knew the risks. He wasn’t
always wise, but in his way he lived life rather fully. I don’t defend him but,
I did love him in ways appropriate, and that is no exaggeration at all.
© 12 Mar 2013
About
the Author
the Author
Phillip Hoyle
lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In
general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two
years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now
focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE
program “Telling Your Story.”
lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, and socializing. In
general he keeps busy with groups of writers and artists. Following thirty-two
years in church work and fifteen in a therapeutic massage practice, he now
focuses on creating beauty. He volunteers at The Center leading the SAGE
program “Telling Your Story.”
He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com
