An Interesting Mix of “Extras”
Years before I knew Peter he was very close to a number of young men, all connected to the arts, who drank gallons of cheap wine, and talked about many subjects, some trivial, but others serious such as politics. A lot of them lived close together in an enclave in West Philadelphia called Powelton Village. These young men were mixed races and sexes, some had published books, most of them painters and sculptors.
According to my husband they had a kind of code of honor with which the they treated each other and women and children.
After Peter and I were married he began telling me stories about this legendary “Knights of the Round Table.” That’s how these men saw themselves. I asked Peter where these people went, where are they? He replied that they were all living in West Philadelphia, as before.
“So if all of you loved each other so much and enjoyed each others’ company, why don’t you get together with them?”
We were living in Media then, less than an hour away. That began the connecting between, at first, Peter and his old friends–and then included me.
From the first I loved these young men; certainly I had never met people like this. There were a few women involved in the group but I was terribly shy; I had my seltzer with lime when we went to Bacchanal. This was a combination bar and art gallery where we spent many happy Saturdays, with me slowly getting to know my husband’s old friends, loud music playing, and dancing. Then I became pregnant.
Once this group of guys met me they knew I wasn’t like the other women they hung out with. I was “lady-like” which could mean that I was a “stuffed shirt.” But they made a special place for me and all of them envied Peter for finding a different kind of life partner. It was so much fun. But then, when I got pregnant and had a large belly, they were just so respectful of me, seemed as if they were in awe of my supreme power of fertility and regeneration.
I would sit high up on a bar stool and the men would come and gaze at me, some wanting to touch my belly. Some women would not have liked this. However, I was living in my pink cloud pregnancy, full of warmth and life, and treated like a goddess.
Once Michael was born I think we took him to Bacchanal about twice. It was terribly smoky in there and did not feel right. But Peter was congratulated on being given a beautiful son. One of the old time friends also had a son born within the same week. Both boys were beautiful, both talented and intelligent. What a time that was.
lgmwriting 