Nudes and President Carter

Wednesday 4th March 2020

We had Gay Life in Atlanta as well as the High Museum and the President Carter Presidential Library and Museum. From Ned and Peter’s Unit you could see the Gay District – a junction with the Rainbow painted round it.

President Carter is such a good man.  His childhood cruet set and a baby cardy made by his wife Lurlene were the highlights of his museum for me. No other traces of her frockage remain apparently. He strove so mightily for good. In one of the taped segments that boom out of the wall he is heard saying that the best years have been latterly, after they left the White House; he has been building houses for poor people (literally: sawing away) and monitoring elections in parts of the world where elections need to be monitored.

Like all Presidential Libraries, this one has a full-scale mock up of the Oval Office which you can stand in. As always, with these things, one is struck by how small it is.

Peter drove me uptown (or further into the woods) to visit a gentleman friend in the Plaza Building. Here Elton John possesses the entire top floor and we rode up in the elevator to see the common parts outside his apartment which have Elton John decor – black and red lacquer and huge photos. Then we toured a rich area of large houses in the woods before an evening visit to an antique shop downtown and the Colonnade traditional Southern restaurant. Peter insisted that a metal flower for sale was an early but-plug and in the restaurant there was someone they knew so he had dinner with us. I wondered afterwards: did that person just go and hang out there in the certain hope that somebody of his acquaintance would turn up? It’s quite likely.

The talk, as on other occasions, was much taken up with future plans, possible visits to each other’s properties elsewhere and, of course, the forthcoming Pool Party Season. Peter said, You have to watch out because the Pool Party Season can start but your body isn’t there. Somehow, over the winter, it’s escaped. The other topic was: Who you know. Not name-dropping but a quick tugging at names to try to pull them into the web. An essential check-list to make sure, also, they’re still there because someone might have flitted off to the other end of the country, never to be heard of again.

Finally I found out what collards are. Except I didn’t. They were on the menu. You remember the scene in To Kill a Mockingbird where somebody fires a gun into the collard patch thinking a black person is trespassing but it was Tom hiding there?  But what are collards? I’d always assumed cabbages. Well, whatever was brought wasn’t cabbage and it wasn’t spinach either. So apart from having consumed them, no progress really as to what collards are.

It was after-dinner that we went to the strip club. I’ve never seen a place with so many prohibitive notices plastered about: Don’t touch the dancers. Ladies Don’t Scream and Mock Our Gay Life. Don’t take Photos. Don’t Speak too Quietly at the Bar. Don’t Enter the Dancers Backstage Area. Rather odd given that nude rudeness was the whole object. Peter was poised by the catwalk with a huge roll of dollar bills. ‘Go on,’ he said… ‘Look that one’s nice… ‘ Gingerly, in fear of some kind of backlash, one popped a bill into the muscle boy’s foundation garments. Squealingly embarrassing. And that wasn’t the end of it. Once they’d done their turn on the catwalk, the men would perambulate the tables selecting some for special favour – apparently. This meant writhing all over one and really they were a bit damp. In our present virus crisis the activity would have been out of the question. Also there was the problem of how to reconcile being writhed all over with the No Touching prohibition. But it wouldn’t have been polite to make a fuss. The real idea, Peter explained, was to lure one into a VIP room where $150 services were on offer. Extraordinary. Can you imagine someone merrily leaving their group: ‘Oh I’m going to have excitement in the VIP Room’? Then coming back again. The shame.

Maybe they don’t feel it.

Still I was wracked with guilt, having no plans to visit the Civil Rights Museum. Wasn’t the Martin Luther King Visitor Centre enough? I told myself. Besides I’ve read To Kill a Mocking Bird and Jessica Mitford. I know all about the Civil Rights Movement.

The Baby Cardy Made by Lurlene Carter

The Baby Cardy Made by Lurlene Carter

The Early Cruet of President Carter

The Early Cruet of President Carter

Lurlene with Betty

Lurlene with Betty

Elton John's Foyer

Elton John’s Foyer

The Gay District of Atlanta

The Gay District of Atlanta

Rich Houses in the Woods

Rich Houses in the Woods

An Early But-Plug, According to Peter

An Early But-Plug, According to Peter

In the Oval Office at Last

In the Oval Office at Last

In the Oval Office: a Good Hotel Room Really but Oval

In the Oval Office: a Good Hotel Room Really but Oval

The Desk!

The Desk!

 

 

Posted Wednesday, March 4, 2020 under Adrian Edge day by day.

Warning: count(): Parameter must be an array or an object that implements Countable in /www3/959/www.poorlittlerichgays.com/web/wp-includes/class-wp-comment-query.php on line 405

Leave a Reply