Can you recall moments of pure happiness in your life? I'm not speaking of those times - such as weddings, births of babies, falling in love - when one expects to feel really happy, but rather just times when you are doing ordinary things and you suddenly become aware that you feel inexplicably happy?
Early in the summer of 1992 I had met a Venezuelan boy named Nelson Alvarado in Provincetown. He was there with his much-older friend, staying in the same guest house as I was. We flirted but only actually spoke as I was packing to leave P'town; we exchanged phone numbers and when I got back to Hartford I found messages on my machine from him. I decided on a whim that it would be fun to spend some time with this kid. Kenny and I had split up and I was kind of lonely, and very sick of my job at the insurance company which paid well but was very stressful. I needed a diversion.
Nelson took a bus to Hartford and the next day we took the train in to NYC where we took a room at my old haunt, the Colonial House on West 22nd. I had a ticket for a performance of TURANDOT at the NYC Opera and easily procured a second ticket so he could come with me.
August 15, 1992: I can remember the date because I still have the cast page from the opera Playbill. We spent the day sunbathing on the infamous roof of the guest house and wandering around the Village. In the late afternoon we were sitting on a stoop, he on the top step and I one step down. He put his arms around me and rested his head on my shoulder. People passing by smiled at us; we weren't talking, just resting. I slowly became aware that the cares of life and the concerns about my work had seeped away and I was totally - and blissfully - happy.
It only lasted a few minutes; we had to get back and get ready for dinner and the opera. He loved TURANDOT and later I wrote to the soprano who had sung Liu and asked her to send me an autographed photo for him, which she did. She had made Nelson weep.
Nelson came to see me a few times in Hartford; we also met in Boston (above) once and the following summer in P'town. Then we simply drifted apart and lost contact. But I've never forgotten that short interlude on the stoop; I pass by the spot sometimes and recall it so vividly. Just the thought of it reminds me of the possibility of that kind of feeling.