No Diving From Pier ~1962

The warm waters of the Gulf Stream get deflected offshore by Cape Cod, cross the Atlantic, and warm up the British Isles and coastal Europe. In the meantime places like Boston and Provincetown are at least ten degrees farenheit colder than the coast of southeast Massachusettes and points south. I grew up south of Cape Cod and thought the water was too cold even then. After all of these years living in South Florida? Provincetown water is COLD! But these kids were having fun, jumping in the water then clambering back up on the pier.

Jane, My Lesbian Room Mate ~ 1962

When I struck up a conversation with this cute chick it never occurred to me that she might be a lesbian. That short hairstyle was very popular with the college girls at the time. We became friends. One night after she got into a bit of a spat with her girlfriend she was at my place visiting when suddenly the girlfriend showed up! After a bit of running around, jumping across beds, and a good amount of screaming, she escorted her girlfriend to the door. (see photos) They soon made up and were back together again.

Come wintertime and I was back in Boston. Jane and I stayed in touch and she knew where I lived on Norway Street. One extremely cold night about 11 PM I was making hot chocolate when there was a desperate knocking on my door! Jane wasn't really dressed for the weather and had just ridden her Vespa motor scooter the couple of miles from near Beacon Hill to my place in the South End.

My household furnishings were typical "beatnik pad", a few chairs, a couple of tables, and a double bed matress on the floor with pillows, sheets, and blankets. It was always cold in there, so after the hot chocolate we were soon under the covers. I wasn't dating anyone at the time, and it looked like Jane wasn't either. We decided to share the place for awhile, just room mates. We went and got her stuff, moving it into my apartment. We were living together for several months. She invited me to be her "date" at a big Christmas party. There must have been close to a hundred people there. She knew them all, and they all knew her. And I was the only straight guy there!

As we circulated around the party she acted like I was her trophy, bragging to the girls that I had I had something (chuckle, chuckle) that their girlfriends didn't have, and telling the guys "Ooooh, I bet you wished that he was YOURS!"

I don't know if it was the drinks, the smoke, or just being around all those chicks, but when we got home she announced that yes, she had occasionaly had sex with a guy, and that once in awhile it was nice to feel something alive inside of her. She easily convinced me to supply the "something alive". I let her put it inside. We did it just that one time. A week or two later she moved out. Some things just aren't meant to be.

Back In Boston, The Magic Of Jay In 1963

I used to spend the occasional weekend in New York City when I lived in Boston. The New York, New Haven, and Harford Railroad had a deal where you could catch a train on Friday evening, then take a return trip Sunday evening, and make the round trip between Boston and New York for $12.48. Of course you got about no sleep for those two nights, and you'd party all night Saturday, but we were young and the world was exciting, too exciting to waste time sleeping if there was an interesting enough alternative.

Returning to Boston one Sunday I sat next to a tall blonde girl from Scarsdale. She was then going to take a bus to her exclusive prep school on Cape Cod. I had no phone but we exchanged addresses. We exchanged a couple of letters, then one evening there was as knock on my door. Jay was standing there suitcase in hand. I invited her in, we ate some dinner, and I convinced her that we really should call her folks so they wouldn't worry. The next morning her dad was at my place in Boston to reclaim his daughter.

About a week later there was another knock on the door. There was Jay again. I called her dad. He said that coming to get her again was probably a futile gesture. He thought that I was a responsible guy and he'd rather have Jay living with me then being God knows where. He offered to send me a check every week. Jay and I made several trips to Scarsdale to visit her folks. Life was good. I was in love. It lasted for about a year. She ran off with someone else. I called her dad and returned his last check. I recall running into her one more time a few weeks later.

That's Jay in the top three frames of strip #376. I remember most of the other people on the contact sheet, but not their names. There was no need to.