Awoooooo!

Not a very closely kept secret… I also enjoy werewolf/shifter fiction.

Figured it had been awhile since I made anything on Canva for this blog. Actually cruised through all the vampire photos and graphics first, but nothing really struck my fancy. Then, I saw this fancy werewolf.

It’s kind of a bait-and-switch situation, this time, because I can’t say there’s anything werewolf-y in this post. Alas. Was there a line about ghouls and werewolves occupying high positions somewhere in government, in The Lost Boys? There may have been. Boom. Relevance.

Also, I was talking to a brand new dude online, about True Blood, since I was listening to my True-Blood-Vibes-themed playlist while bleaching my hair. BOTH vampires AND werewolves there. So, HA!

I’ll have to give my werewolf playlist some love soon. It’s a good one.

If anything, maybe this post should have been named “To All the Boys I Crushed On, At Times Inappropriately, Before.” Maybe there’s a joke to be made with a reference to The Black Keys’ “Howlin for You” or any song full of longing, by Howlin’ Wolf.

Moving on.

Today, Corey Feldman’s official Facebook fan account, Team Feldman, shared an absolutely hilarious meme about The Lost Boys. Okay, I’m gonna try to link it here? It’s a public page. We’ll see if this works. If not, I’ll go back and edit and take it out.

EDIT: They took the post down. I had screenshot it before that happened, so *I* still have it. But I can’t share it here, anymore.

“Yearbook-” themed photos of some of the primary characters, with preciously idiosyncratic personality descriptions below each image.

I hadn’t thought of Michael as “lawful stupid,” but upon further reflection, yeah, he was kinda clueless at times. “What’s happening to me, Star? What’s happening?”

And David definitely flirts through bully behavior LOL. It took me a minute to get the reference to his thinking bugs are cool. “They’re only noodles, Michael.”

One of my faves was the bit about eating breadsticks out of the garbage. Paul, I think.

Anyway… where am I going with this?

I shared that post on my Facebook feed, and a good friend from high school really enjoyed it. I was so glad someone else I knew found it as delightful as I did, and I told him so.

He said, how could he not, when our mutual friend, now sadly departed, would have loved it and assigned each of us an appropriate role based on the descriptions of each character. He later added that was a tradition of Justin’s that he (Rob) was continuing in his memory.

I’d never thought to associate Justin with The Lost Boys. We might have never talked about it. Had he seen it?

EDIT TO ADD: Rob just commented that it was one of Justin’s favorite movies. And that he’s certain Justin would have agreed with me and my friend Barbara about the erotic tension between Michael and David.

What I immediately recalled after my friend had mentioned Justin, was the night we all went to see The Crow. I think it might have been opening weekend? I was working at a movie theater chain in the area. This was before management told us to give new movies some time to chill before asking to get in free.

In retrospect, I’m not sure if they actually gave us tickets, or if they just said, sure, if you can find seats, you can go in. Because when we got there, it was packed. Possibly totally sold out.

We lay down on the floor of the theater in front of the row closest to the screen. Not something I would dream of doing now! Especially after working in theaters. Those floors can get nasty. And I doubt my adult back could handle it.

But man, was that ever a memorable experience. Brandon Lee loomed over us, in a way that would not have been possible, had we been sitting properly. And I think I was stretched out next to Justin. Not sure who was on his other side?

Back to The Lost Boys: Who knows? Maybe Justin even would have encouraged me in my forays into fan-fic-adjacent stories intended to substitute for David, Michael, and Star getting a “Happily Ever After” together.

That was definitely the sort of thing he picked up on in movies. When we watched or talked about Labyrinth, someone had wondered why Jareth wanted the baby in the first place. Was that me?

“He wanted Sarah,” Justin pointed out, which seems profoundly obvious now that I’m older.

Jareth was so iconic. As was David Bowie.

So was Justin, in his own right.

I lost touch with him, and our mutual friend, Rob, at one point. Eventually reconnected with Rob, and didn’t know HE knew where Justin was. Didn’t think to ask about him until it was too late.

I wrote a poem about Justin, after I heard the news.

I kissed him once, when he was drunk.

Not very kind of me, since he later didn’t remember who’d done it, just that someone had. And he was already in his early twenties, I think, when I knew him. I was still in high school. Oops.

I was very flirtily affectionate with him, but he allowed it.

Gods, was he beautiful. And funny, and kind.

He did once tell me I would be prettier if I lost weight, that he’d take me out dancing every night and only let me have water, until I slimmed down. Which maybe wasn’t as considerate. But he meant well, in his way, generally. I can certainly forgive him that, at this point. He may have had some serious body image issues going on, himself, model-gorgeous, or not.

Well. I hope I have his blessing in creating the world of Wishful Sinful. It’s pretty to think that maybe he’s the other spirit guide I sensed, in the dream I described in a previous post.

He likely could have lived without Haven being a part of the action. Women generally weren’t his jam. I guess he’d had some isolated experiences with bisexual females. He’d mentioned that once. The way he’d mentioned them, they seemed mere exceptions to the rule of his sexual orientation.

Again, I think that proves what a field of gray, sexuality can be in practice, as I also try to portray it. For the record, Haven is straight. Lenore, too. Might have to write in a queer female lead at some point. *Inspiration*

Regardless, Justin seemed to let his guard down with me, in a way that he didn’t with everyone. The furthest it ever went physically was us taking a nap together. I held him while we slept.

It didn’t even dawn on me why he panicked so hard about making the bed look unused before his partner came home– what it would have looked like.

He was an early muse of mine, for sure, naive and relatively innocent as I was. I thought I was ever so jaded, but I was just coping with some emotional trauma.

Gosh, this just also reminded me of two other connections.

First: the musician I met at 19, who was 24. Let me tell you, 19-year-old me was in no way, shape, or form ready to tussle with an experienced 24-year-old. I was all bluff. BUT, I’ve mostly let that go at this point, too.

We finally, FINALLY broke our pattern of hunting one another down for who knows what reason, only to disappear, only to come back. He ghosted again (I did, too, at some points), but this last time had a decided air of finality. So, I blocked, to remove temptation, and let it go.

Still think about him, now and then.

He was also incredibly attractive, but better left to memories. I know I’ve mentioned him before. Hell, I wrote about him in my epistolary memoir collection. I like to think that even if he was never monogamous with anyone so far as I know, and typically dishonest about it (except with those in the know, like me), that at least for awhile, I meant something to him.

Not that he never hurt me. There was a lot of that mixed in, too. Was it all worth it? Maybe. Things to think about now that I’m older. Recalling my “wild youth.”

(And I think it’s also clearly evident that if I wasn’t altogether prepared at 19, I DAMN sure would NOT have been equipped, any younger.)

That sparked a memory of the boy who attempted to give me my first kiss. One of the guys I considered just friends. I’m not sure how old I was. Definitely well before junior high (what the kids call “middle school” around here, but for us was just 7th and 8th grade).

My friend tried to pin me against a wall. I was terrified and ran all the way home. But what he didn’t know was that I had a crush on his older brother. Who had like a mini home gym. He was kinda buff, if I recall correctly. Nice arms.

Damn, there was also the high school guy whose sister sometimes tolerated my presence, even if I was a lot younger than her, and therefore not as cool.

My dad had given me some merch advertising a boat engine his company had made. Did I ask him for one of the posters to give to that guy? Maybe I did… I find it hard to believe my dad would have up and given me a very risque poster of a woman in a t-shirt that cut off not far below her nips, then turn around and lecture me that bisexuality didn’t exist, when I got to high school.

I think dude’s mom declared that poster beyond the pale and got rid of it, but he was still thankful that I had considered giving it to him. I’d thought of his collection of girlie posters, and it had seemed something he’d like. How this exchange failed to scandalize my parents, I have no idea.

That older brother asked me to wrestle a few times. Eventually, I said okay, and landed feet-first on his back, nearly killing him. I imagine that was NOT the outcome he’d anticipated.

God, what the hell was with me and flirting with danger, growing up??? Seemingly oblivious to almost all of it, or else thinking it was “cool,” by the time I got to junior high or early high school, and the older guys would honk their horns when my friends and I walked the city’s main street that ran past our school.

It’s “funny” (not “HA HA” funny, as they say), because when I had previously given thought to whether or not I had any really young “coming of age” moments, I didn’t think I had, until high school. None of it was consciously on my radar. No “practice kissing” with female friends, etc.

I had grade-school-era crushes, and spent a lot of time exchanging crude jokes with the guys, because I found them more relatable.

But what was it about the eternal mysteries of high-school aged older brothers, when I was growing up? I guess I had some moments, after all? Even if most of them were ambiguous in my young mind, and (thankfully) unrequited.

I remember liking yet another friend’s older brother, and my mortification when someone told a joke at the dinner table. I snorted milk out of my nose, and all over what was left of the pizza. Ah, memories.

Her, I definitely said something to about my opinion, that her brother was hot. However I phrased it, she was appropriately grossed out.

But SHE had a crush on one of the lifeguards at the local pool. So I wasn’t the only one, dreaming of older guys.

By the time I reached high school myself, few of them seemed worth that kind of adoration. Barring perhaps the one dressed in all black, including a trench coat, who held a door for me, making a grand, sweeping gesture with one of his arms, in the process. I swooned over that for a long time! Still remember both his first and last name, because I found out, somehow, back then.

I had some other random crushes closer to my age, as I got older. Another friend who eventually came out as gay, and was also friends with my bestie.

Many of our classmates mistakenly thought I was dating said-bestie. We had an ambiguous vibe.

And a hippie type in my English class, who didn’t realize I also liked guys, when we’d gone to a movie together. My moves were awkward AF at that point, but I think he would have turned me down regardless.

He was a good friend, nonetheless. Called me while I was out with bronchitis, having looked up the number in the phone book. Made me Pearl Jam tapes. We even went to his house for lunch sometimes, and ate Mac n Cheese, and watched Rocky and Bullwinkle.

OH another point of wolfy relevance– hippie dude once visited a wolf reservation in Wisconsin (sadly no longer a thing here), and one of the wolves licked his hand through the chain link fence. I thought that was hella cool.

Amusingly enough, all three of those guys had the same first name. Michael. And we circle back around to The Lost Boys.

How the heck did I wind up contemplating all of this off a pic of a werewolf, and a meme about The Lost Boys?

Justin.

May he rest in peace.

I hope we’re still “cool,” after all this time, wherever you are.

Here’s the poem I wrote about him.

The first line mentions a couple of books I adored. Everything I was into at that point was likely thematically age-inappropriate, but I was a sophisticated reader, and fascinated by everything I shouldn’t know about. If it involved a seedy underbelly, I wanted to read it. I guess that was my safe way of venturing out into the unknown. Exploring sexuality on the page.

It’s an older piece, and a little rough. Sometimes rhymes, sometimes doesn’t. I may even still have the photos of him, somewhere. I’ll have to look, another night. It’s quite late.

---

Justin

---

Neons and City of Night 

left me starry-eyed and then

BAM you arrived like you’d 

just stepped off the page, 

skin for skins, blond and 

golden, alias London,

bathed in your own

personal spotlight, dancer-

lean arms laced with scars.

Blue eyes at times haunted

though oft still dazzling. 

***

Years later, once I thought 

you’d slipped off the grid 

beyond all hope of contact, 

I showed a friend an old 

black and white of you

in a cemetery just to prove 

I’d once known someone 

as lovely as James Marsters’

Spike on Buffy. 

***

But today I found out 

for years you may have been 

one mutual friend away 

from us reconnecting. And 

now you’re gone forever.

***

I remember sneaking out to 

see The Crow with you on 

opening night, oversold so 

our whole group ended up 

lying on the floor in front of 

the front row. You wore a 

black mesh shirt and leather

jacket, every bit as badass as

Eric Draven. Have you since

met Brandon? 

***

No more swapping stories, 

no apology for the time I 

kissed you goodbye when

you were too plastered to

know it was me, no 

introducing my daughter, she

would’ve been five or six when

you died. I’ve been through

a lifetime in the interim years,

but it would’ve been nice to 

say hello again instead of

just goodbye.

---