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The Proposal - Sing With Me If It's Just For Today...
If I should fall behind, Guyster, wait for me.
guysterrules
guysterrules
The Proposal
In 1996, I was managing an actor/comedian named Scott. I booked him for a concert that was taking place as part of the Black and Blue party in Montreal. Billy was in NYC on business for about a month prior to Montreal. I missed him like crazy and I suggested that we meet up in Montreal for the party. He jumped at the chance.

We coordinated our flights to arrive at the same time. Our hotel room had a twinkling view of the city. We threw down our bags and made up for lost time.



"I have something for you," he announced and opened his suitcase. He pulled out a large card, got down on one knee with a very serious look on his face.

"I mean this with all my heart," he said looking into my eyes.

He had made a card out of a metallic copper paper and had it laminated. On the front were two overlapping red hearts.
Inside, in a pocket on the left side, were two silver rings. On the right side, he hand-engraved a poem.

These silver bands
Go on and on
Just like our love
We will see thru the same eyes
We will see time pass the same way
Clouds float into eternity
We are one of those clouds.

You are my love.
Always, Bildoe


I broke out in tears and hugged him hard. I pulled back and saw a sly smile on his face. He knew the effect this would have. His mission was happily accomplished. With ceremony, we slipped on the rings on each other's fingers. Then we got dressed for the party. Billy had bought us matching G.I. Joe t-shirts for the occasion. Rings. Shirts. We were ready to go.

The big party was held in the Olympic Stadium in Montreal. There had to be at least 10,000 people there. The lighting was more spectacular than either one of us ever saw. A blanket of laser beams hovered five feet above us. He brought a velvet curtain tie that he tied to make a very loose belt. Our X was in high gear. He put the rope around his waist and on that spot, we created "the rope dance."

The dance went something like this; I would hold the rope and Billy, with unparalleled abandon, would spin and twirl and dance. I would roughly pull the rope close, bringing his body next to mine while we dirty danced then let him go again and off he would spin and dance. Pretty soon there was a crowd around us clapping. Billy was such an extraordinary dancer that he always created a crowd on the floor or as he would say, “his fan club.” He always got a little embarrassed by the attention but at the same time, he loved it.

After the party, we went to a club that was retro Sixties cool. We lounged on a large couch surrounded by lava lamps and smoked a joint. We saw bouncers coming toward us so we quickly handed the joint to a nearby stranger and let him take the heat.

About nine in the morning we finally got back to our hotel, wired and tired. We spooned and my mind was racing. I kept thinking about business, all the things that could go wrong and all of the things I should have done right. It wouldn't stop. I wondered what was going through Billy's mind.

"What are you thinking about, honey?" I whispered into his ear.

"Dancing."

Simple. Direct. Billy. I understood at that moment how lucky I was to have his balance in my life.

It was one of the our most magical nights. From that moment on, Montreal was declared “our city.”

I am still wearing that ring. So is Billy.

Current Mood: drifting

5 comments or Leave a comment
Comments
ruralrob From: ruralrob Date: May 16th, 2003 04:42 am (UTC) (Link)
Hey thats a nice story - so sweet and full of little loving detail. Plus, of course, it's got Canadian content!

What more could anyone ask for?
fabulist From: fabulist Date: May 16th, 2003 07:55 am (UTC) (Link)
There's such energy and exuberance in your writing lately, even when it's infused with loss. In time, even those moments that are now tempered by sadness and regret will come back to you as things to be treasured and celebrated--as the foundations of a life you're unfairly having to start all over again. You should be proud of your ability to delve into these difficult realms--it will carry you where you need to go.
prowler323 From: prowler323 Date: May 16th, 2003 11:58 am (UTC) (Link)
You know, I feel odd sometimes reading your memory posts and not commenting. Somehow in my head, comment = impact. At the same time, though, I understand that I have no insights to offer that you haven't explored already, otherwise you wouldn't be writing and posting it. And any attempt at comforting words seems pretty cold.

SO, I'm reading, I'm absorbing...
guysterrules From: guysterrules Date: May 16th, 2003 01:11 pm (UTC) (Link)
I understand how my memory posts are somewhat comment-exempt. They are something I write because it either makes me feel better to solidify and share the experience, or it helps to just blurt out the bad stuff. Although unspoken, I know your words of comfort are there.

The last week has just been a real fucked up slump. No real reason why now that I can decipher. I search for words to describe the feeling and come up empty so I think I frame those feelings in stories. I'm certain some find these entries just plain depressing so I try and put a certain icon on them as warning.
prowler323 From: prowler323 Date: May 16th, 2003 01:12 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re:

I don't find them depressing. I find them celebratory. Mileage may vary, natch.
5 comments or Leave a comment