When I was going to college in St. Louis in the latter years of the 1980’s, I managed to squeeze into a web of people unlike any I’ve ever met anyplace before or since. I’m not sure how, even to this day, I managed to insinuate myself into their midst so easily, but I did and I learned a lot about living ones life on ones own terms. Money was not an issue with these people. They didn’t care about status symbols or impressing anyone. They lived their lives with gusto and passion.

Ever so often, I flash back, in my mind, to that group of people and yearn for a simpler time, a happier place and such an amazing group of people. Most of them are no longer with us, their lives cut short by AIDS and those are the ones I remember most.

Michael Fletcher, (I’m surprised I remember his name, since I’m so bad with the simplest of names) was a character larger than life. He was over 6’5” tall and bone thin with long, very long, wavy brown hair. If I remember correctly, he worked in a salon. My favorite memory of Michael took place on Halloween 1989 at the annual Knights of Pythius ball held in a fantastic old St Louis building near the main St. Louis University campus. The building was spectacular, a big limestone and masonry thing with the garage on the first 5 floors and the “clubhouse” taking over the remaining top 5 floors. You entered through the garage, which had been decorated with tarps of black plastic, ghouls, mummies, and black lights, which formed a maze directing you to a solitary elevator that whisked you to the top floor of the building. Once there, after having checked in, the reception hall spilled out into the 2 level grand ballroom which was circled with a balcony and a set of grand, massive sweeping staircases, built if only to allow a Hollywood styled entrance.

Michael arrived shortly after I did and made the most spectacular entrance of anyone I’ve ever seen in person. He was dressed in a remarkable Vegas showgirl outfit with feather boas shooting into the air a good 3 feet past his already 6’5” frame. The colors, the sparkles, it was glamour baby, yeah.

I like to remember Michael like that. It makes me smile and fills me with warmth.

Several years later, while visiting the San Francisco Public library’s les/bi/gay/tran wing I came across a photo of Michael in a magazine article and I thought to myself that Michael would have been offended at such a simple photo of himself in a publication.

It was also the first time I ever knew someone in print. I rub shoulders with greatness. That’s close enough to the limelight for me.