3 March 1963: He is reading "To Kill a Mockingbird" in anticipation of seeing the movie, out in 1962, but just now getting to the bases, I guess. My friend Kevin asserts that there are no (or very few) movies worth watching made after 1975 or so. I disagree, but reading these old letters, I can see something of what he is talking about. "Days of Wine and Roses," "To Kill a Mockingbird," - I think he writes me later about seeing "Billy Budd." My friend Jan from St. Olaf is begging me to see any and all Ingmar Bergman movies, Fellini is hitting his stride.

I just Googled "Movies 2005". As luck would have it, the top five were also favorites of mine - but the genre is a far cry from 1962/3: Star Wars III, Chronicles of Narnia, Harry Potter, War of the Worlds (NOT a favorite of mine - Tom Cruise, indeed!), and King Kong (Peter Jackson being a favorite of mine - since LOTR, He Can Do No Wrong!)

Moving down the list, I find "Brokeback Mountain" - but that seems to be the ONLY movie all year long that both tackled important current issues and gained a popular following . These days, fantasy is either more believeable or more comforting or both. I think it is all we have left to hold onto as a reliquary for our dreams.

January 1963. just a short note to tell me he has his first real "job" iin the army - assistant stenographer in the Adjutant General's office, and something about plans for Easter - a mention of Cape Cod.

I wonder what would have become of us if we had had the money to carry out some of our plans. My parents, certainly, would never have sprung for a trip to Cape Cod to be with my fiancee'. Cape Cod was, no doubt, my romantic idea. A romantic idea with no way of becoming reality. I think a lot of my relationships, not to mention my two marriages, were just such romantic ideas.

I don't want to squelch the entire field of romantic ideas. Some very good things come out of romantic ideas. Take "Lord of the Rings" for an over-the-top example. However, when you make decisions based on romantic ideas that have no basis in reality, you're in the realm of horror fiction, not high fantasy.

Was thinking about that the other night when my ex (this one far more current - only twenty years ago, and we are still in contact) came to town to take me out for a birthday dinner with a couple of other friends. I first saw David the night I walked into the Blue Moon Tavern in Seattle and was immediately smitten. "If they'll hire that guy," I thought, "I'll get along in this bar." Well, it took about nine months of gestation, during which time I - well, nevermind what I was doing, it will come up sooner or later...But by May of the following year, we were an item. He was only three years younger than me, and at the time, I thought that was a good thing. Older and wiser, I thought. Like me. Very funny.

However, having fallen in love with him more or less at first sight, and having bought into the bar talk surrounding him (best bartender in town, super cool dude, good people, nobody better than Cowboy Dave), by the time we actually started getting to know each other, I had him all pegged out as the man I had been waiting for. Very possibly the man I had left the above man for nearly twenty years before that. The one that made everything all worthwhile.

It was all in my imagination. He wasn't anything like that at all. And it took me two years to come to terms with it, even though the truth of the matter stared me in the face the entire time. He's an all right guy, I guess, on his own terms. We're still friends. But now that I know him, really know him, I'm not the least little bit attracted to him. That night when he came to pick me up, I started telling him about a series on HBO that I liked - "Rome." It's the sort of thing I get into. "I've never liked Romans," he said. End of conversation.

That's what I mean. In my ideal version, he would at least have been interested. He would have been engaged. With me. Like Larry was, all those years ago. Who may not have thought much of Romans either, for all I know, but who would have wondered why I was interested and perhaps even thought that my interest was worth something.