"The fifties were different for us queers. There weren't no Pride parades or DVDs or internet. Back then, if you wanted man-on-man stuff, you had to know where to look for it. Back then, a young man who caught your eye had to be mighty careful about letting things go further. All kinds of risks in those days, on the racetrack and off ."
I’m an old man now, one of the hard-core race crowd that hangs around at Tampa Bay Downs most mornings. It’s a small track, runs mostly claiming and low-level stakes races. It’s cheerful-looking, got green and white stripes on the awnings, has that bright green Florida grass on the turf track. Seagulls and ibis and flamingos wing through the pond that’s in the infield. For a New York guy like me, seeing that still gives me a little start sometimes. Weird, ya know? The horses and them fancy, colored birds together in one place. My crowd has lost some members over the years: Hymie to lung cancer; George to diabetes; even Jimmy the Vest went last year. Car accident, if you can believe that. All those years in New York, taking subways and buses and cabs. He retires down here to Florida, gets
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