Author Information
On Monday Nights, After The Local (Boy Scouts) Troop Meetings, July, 1969 To February, 1971
In bed, awaiting sleep, I fantasized that
around me all my "crushes" gathered (shirtless,
shoeless, clad in jeans or cargos, and their feet
socksheathed or bare) to protect me from the scouts
who mistreated me;
who terrorized my Monday nights, each week the
same routine because I seemed to them to be
"different" (I was---clumsy, awkward, pipsqueak
voice, attracted to other males; and better
than those "fellow" scouts).
The Scoutmaster and his many assistants
looked away tacitly. I dared not tell my
parents who believed Scouting was supremely
good for and to me; they thought I had been "well
"accepted" by them.
Starwardist
