Book Title: Dancing Before the Crash
Author: C.C. Everill
Publisher: Self-published in conjunction with Ronni Sanlo Literary (www.ronnisanlo.com)
Cover Artist: Barbara Gottlieb (gottgraphix.com)
Release Date: April 25, 2021
Genre: Memoir
Trope: Friends and lovers
Themes: Gay life 1977-1989
Length: 72 388 words/386 pages
It is a standalone book and does not end on a cliffhanger
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
Imagine finding someone’s diary – would you read it?
Blurb
In 1977, a 22-year-old man moved to NYC to pursue his dream. His journal tells of his romances, friendships, clubbing while attempting to “make it” in the big city. The author’s diary takes us from the early days of the 1970’s disco era through the devastating AIDS epidemic. If you lived through this era or are interested in LGBTQ+ history, this book offers insight from a survivor.
As a child growing up in the ‘60’s, I dreamt of becoming a singer and actor. In 1977, at the age of twenty-two, I relocated to New York City with the purpose of pursuing that dream. This is the tale of what happened.
1977
JAVIER
Wednesday, November 23, 1977
So, I’m moving to New York City.
The community theatre has been a remarkable experience, but it’s time to take my acting more seriously. Not to say that the community players aren’t serious, but it’s not a professional atmosphere.
I considered The American Academy of Dramatic Arts in Pasadena but when I discovered the original school was in New York, I decided to apply there.
I don’t love California. When I was a kid, I wanted to be like Marlo Thomas in That Girl. Move to New York and become an actress, although in my case, I should say actor. I auditioned at the Pasadena campus for the New York location and was accepted.
Registration is January 30th.
Bobby and I are getting along better, but I assume it’s because I’m leaving. Once I’m gone, a friend of his moves in. I do not suggest falling in love with one’s straight roommate.
Since he went back to La Jolla, I have not heard from Richard and that’s fine too. Lesson learned. Watch out for choreographers who are in town to work on a show for only a few weeks.
Last night, I went to the bar and met Javier, a sexy Cuban who caused me to immediately forget Richard and Bobby. I soon realized that Javier was direct, honest and to the point. No bullshit with him. I like that. I was sitting at the circular bar sipping on a draft beer. He was on the other side of the bar facing me. Our eyes met. He smiled. When I returned the smile, he walked around from the other side.
“Hi, I’m Javier and it seems we keep looking at each other.”
“It does seem that way, doesn’t it? I’m Colby.”
“Let me buy you another beer and we can go sit at a table.”
After the bartender served us, we found a table. We tried to talk but had a difficult time hearing each other over the blaring disco version of “Send in the Clowns” by Grace Jones. We kissed instead. The kiss eventually turned into a French kiss and continued for what seemed like hours. We certainly had the attention of everyone at the bar.
Sunday, November 27, 1977
Since Javier lives with his parents. He has spent the last two nights at our apartment but makes sure to leave before Bobby gets home from work. Javier and I have a good rapport and it’s refreshing to have someone laugh at my stories, unlike my parents who always seemed to give me a scornful glare whenever I would engage in witty conversation. Maybe they never understood my sense of humor.
On the other hand, it’s clear I make Javier happy, and consequently he seems to bring out the best in me. I could tell he was not pleased when I told him of my plan to move to New York.
“Why don’t you call that school and tell them you’re not coming?”
“Sorry, but I’ve already been accepted.”
Thursday, December 1, 1977
When I called Javier to confirm our date tomorrow night (he’s coming over after Bobby leaves for work), his father, who does not speak English well, answered the phone.
“Javier, no, not here.”
He hung up the phone. I immediately called back and this time a woman answered. When I asked for Javier, she told me to hold on and the next thing I heard was Javier’s sexy voice.
“Did you just call?”
“Yeah, but whoever answered hung up on me.”
“That was my father.” He chuckled.
“He does that whenever he hears a man’s voice. He doesn’t approve of me being gay.”
I imagine my father would have the same reaction.
Thursday, December 15, 1977
Today I walked to the store to pick up a few items. On my way home, someone honked the horn, and thinking it was a smart ass, I immediately flipped the bird. As the car slowed down to a stop, I realized it was Javier.
“Hey, do you give everybody the finger for honking?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” I said with a big smile.
“I was going to offer you a ride but if that’s how you react, maybe I shouldn’t.”
I laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was you.”
He grinned. “You’re crazy, but I love you. Get in. I’ll take you home.”
Friday, December 16, 1977
Steve Edmonton called and invited me to lunch tomorrow. He directed some of the plays at the theatre.
Saturday, December 17, 1977
At lunch Steve pointed out that he thinks it’s a good idea for me to study in New York, but also believes I should learn to be more assertive. He said I have talent and have done some great work, but he’s concerned my shyness may be an obstacle.
When I arrived home, I found Bobby and Javier sitting in the living room.
“I have the day off,” Bobby explained as I stood there in a state of shock.
“Yeah, and I dropped by early because I couldn’t wait until tonight,” Javier chimed in with a grin.
“Well, so you’ve met. “
There was a long pause. None of us knew what to say. I went first.
“Bobby, I know I should have told you, but I didn’t know how.”
“Hey, brother, I’ve known all along. In fact, I’ve been wondering if you were planning on telling me before you move.”
So, now he knows. I do not plan on telling Bobby that I wanted it to be him for a long time, until I realized he was hopelessly straight.
C.C Everill was born in New England. He earned a BA in Music and Theatre in the 1970’s. Before moving to NYC, he kept a diary which was the foundation for “Dancing Before the Crash.” He is now a retired piano teacher and resides in North America with his husband of 36 years and their three cats.
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