So, anyway, there I was laid up, with my feet elevated, for the 2 months following Thanksgiving Vacation ’81. I had to drop out of Anchorage (Alaska) community collage, quit my part-time job at Pizza Hut (no great loss) and, generally speaking, cocoon. Denys wasn’t much help during this period. My parents tolerated him, but didn’t really like him. I don’t blame them; in retrospect he was a creepy guy. The man in this drawing in a super-idealized version of Denys. When I met him, he was 46, having just moved from the Yukon territories when he read, in the Anchorage Phone Directory, that our metropolis had a Gay Community Center. We met on both of our first visits to the center, at it’s Saturday Night Co-gender rap session.