Kissing Your Brother Part 2

Part Two...
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Okay , this guy I'm not about to kiss though he calls me "FagDonald" and has for twenty-five years or so.

I bring up Rodan (Mike Roe) because you need to understand the lunatic fringe that swept through the San Francisco style house up on the hill in Landpark (Sacramento) in the 90's.

It wasn't just Rod Swenson, or Rodan (of the 77's)...it was a whole cacophony of incredibly talented wierdos. Hogboy, John Spritz, actor Victor Wong, visionaries like Jim Seyman and Thomas Whitney.

Then the usual drop-ins (you know who you were).

One night Rodan and I sat up on the deck after the U2 Zooropa concert at Arco. He smoked and I drank and we lamented the end of a great rock band.

Boy were we wrong. Shit.

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So the party started and we had invited poets, theologians, artists, musicians and other folk to come and share food, alcohol and their offerings. It was a cool summer night, which is not usual in Excramento.

Other arrived and then the bell rang again leading oput to our exquisite courtyard.

There stood Rod, with that utterly ridiculous half grin on his face. His eyes slightly sad, but strangely hopeful. It made me laugh. We just had a connection. So we both simultaneously kissed each other on the lips.

No tongues, no stuff. It was kinda like what St. Paul says about "greeting one another with a holy kiss". It was defintely holy. And it surprised us both and we laughed at the door...for a few minutes...but also let it be what it was.

I love this guy. Simple.

Holy.