The List: 1979-80

When we last visited (as of December 31, 1978), the list contained 48 women.

I met #49 (as well as 50, 53, 54, and 65) from my front stoop. I told you it was a great neighborhood. She was a crazy lady, her sister was even crazier (and I lusted after her), eventually she went to prison where she used to correspond with me. I don’t think I ever visited her. #50 burnt me; the only time I acquired a venereal disease – the clap. #51 was a Wonder Bar score; her cousin played in a couple of Super Bowls. I still get an occasional phone call from #53 hoping for one more night of fun – no can do. While I don’t think either happened – one time she called from Alabama in the 80s claiming that she had a miscarriage as the result of her and my activities; years later it turned out I had a teenage son. There never was confirmation of either. At 47 years of age, #54 remains to this day the oldest woman in terms of difference that I’ve ever been with. She was a neighbor and I liked to be neighborly. #55 was introduced to me by a future roomie; she used to say I made her “liver quiver”. #56, 57, and 58 were all introduced to me by Randy. The Randallion Cat always meant there would be women at the Outpost. #59 was a white girl of whom I remember little. The Village provided the venue for meeting #60. A mutual friend introduced me to #61 who was married which was unusual for me; however she was a nice lady and needed a friend one night. I met # 62 on a train; she was headed to Harrisburg but she got off in Lancaster. She was what my former roomie, Ron, referred to as a buffalo. So was #63 whom I met at a speakeasy. #64 I met at Laurita’s which was a hot club during this period. #65 was a young thing but I really wanted her lesbian sister. #66 was a high school classmate. #67 was a New York City call girl that came with a $75 bottle of cheap sparkling wine. Times and prices have changed; just ask Governor Spitzer.

So, as 1981 began, Phil’s list contained 67 names of women that I had intimately known. Now, to most baby boomer’s the “Summer of Love” refers to 1967 and most notably in the Haight-Ashbury District of San Francisco; however for me the Summer of Love refers to 1981 and my new home – which had a familiar address. The Second Coming was upon us.