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Gay San Francisco: Eyewitness Drummer                 75
             my writing because he cannot help it — he is an academic. I usually just
             tell him to piss off.
                The first Fritscher characteristic to strike me was his voice. With
             brilliance often comes an ostentatious air, those sometimes overly profes-
             sional (read: defensive), articulate (read: I rule the planet), and aggres-
             sive (read: poor social skills) traits that make for a challenging interview.
             Anticipating the possibility of this combination makes my emergency
             Ativan supply beckon to me from the medicine cabinet. Take me, it says,
             and relax into the moment. It turned out that I needed no pharmaceuti-
             cal kick whatsoever because Fritscher, who seems assertive but neither
             ostentatious or defensive, nearly charmed the pants (literally) off me.
                This interview came at an unplanned moment when Fritscher and
             I connected between a ridiculous array of problems and obligations.
             Both of our mothers were ailing; our domestic partners needed special
             attention (Fritscher’s is recovering from knee replacement surgery); and
             I quite frankly grew afraid that Fritscher might change his mind before
             I dipped into the resources of his worldly mind with my ladle. Yes, Rob-
             ert, my love, you are right. That is a pretty hideous analogy but it stays.
                To begin on a more carnal note (and why not, really?), Fritscher is a
             deadly combination of three alternate elements, opposing the three I had
             initially feared, all seemingly orchestrated by the Goddess to completely
             unnerve me. First, his physical appearance is strong in a sexual-authority-
             figure kind of way. (He finished at #11 on the San Francisco Sheriff’s
             Exam in 1976.) And second, he has a voice that would be a perfect match
             for an old boyfriend of mine from Philly, still affectionately referred to
             as “Philadelphia Joe.” It is almost like a deep purr, a melodic confidence
             rarely found except perhaps when you hit the jackpot calling a 900 line
             (not that I have done such as thing because, man, those expensive minutes
             add up so goddamn quickly). Fritscher knows pillow talk.
                Last, I have never been a huge Marilyn Monroe fan, but I do share
             at least one trait with her. We are two Geminis wowed by the raw sexual
             power of intelligence. Marilyn went after writer Arthur Miller whose most
             famous  play  was  about  witchcraft.  Hmmm.  And  Mapplethorpe  liked
             Fritscher because, Mapplethorpe said, “We have intelligent sex.” Hmmm,
             again. This may not be the most professional statement I will ever make,
             but I am willing to admit that Fritscher warmed my cockles a degree or
                [The entire interview can be read at]

             Alexander Renault is the pen name of the young writer Nicholas Hor-
             nack who was killed in a car crash in February 2006. As a journalist, he

           ©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved—posted 05-05-2017
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