17 July 2008

Beachside Bukowski

A lovely vision of a man told me a few years ago that I should not be afraid of meeting people online.
"You work with energy, you can feel people out. The internet is just energy...you should be able to feel people out online the same way you do in person."

I don't know that this view is entirely true, but so far my instincts have been pretty good. There are people who with a simple "hello" chill me to my very core, and others whose initial awkward attempts at conversation have developed into significant relationships, both romantic and platonic.
I have become less reluctant to meet people online, though I always remember what Jeff Buckley told me when I asked if how he'd met his band.

"...Did you already know them, did the label hire them...did you put an ad out in the paper..?" I'd asked him.
"No, no...never advertise for a lover or a band mate!" he'd said emphatically.

But meeting people through personal ads doesn't have the same sort of stigma it once had. I had wonderful luck on Adult Friend Finder last year--- it's why I canceled my account. What are the odds I'd keep meeting incredible people like the Leo Couple and the Frenchman?
About a month ago, however, I signed up on Lovelab, the Mercury personals. It was part curiosity and part marketing move, as I do make reference to the Misadventures.
I still refuse to pay to use any of these accounts, so I can only reply to emails. However, it doesn't stop me from going window shopping. Who doesn't like to shop?
While perusing, I came across a ruggedly handsome figure, a writer who lives on the Oregon Coast. He made me think of Indiana Jones, the pre- alien/nuclear bomb-fiasco Indy.

As luck would have it, I was contacted by a young man, on myspace, who had seen my personal ad. The handsome writer happened to be among his top friends. What a lovely coincidence.

We began exchanging emails and phone calls, trading stories. I love his stories. He writes about drinking and fucking. I've begun jokingly referring to him as the Beachside Bukowski, or BB.
But he is at his most eloquent when he writes about where he lives. He has made of the Oregon Coast a home, a lover, a place of worship...
I have become enamored of this place I have glimpsed in his writing. I feel I have never really seen it before, though I have been to the Oregon Coast.

It was inevitable that we would meet.

He came into Portland early one Sunday morning a few weeks ago and we met for coffee. We hit it off instantly. So much so, that he has invited me to go and stay with him this weekend. It promises to be part Misadventure, part writer's retreat.
While he has made it no secret that there is an attraction, we have spent as much time talking about the craft of writing as anything else. He's even talked me into reading at an open mic while I'm there.
He has already influenced the way I write and think about writing. I'm even doing research! At his urging, I am going to submit a story to a huge anthology of Oregon writing/writers that's going to be published next year.
He'd asked if I have a good "Sauvie Island fuck story". As a matter of fact, I do. He gave me a brief history of the place, of the events that took place and the laws that were passed so that people could run around naked and fuck on the beach there. Well, when you put it that way... it appealed to my sense of whimsy and got my mind working.
So, between readings and glasses of gin, and whatever trouble we can get into, we'll be working on an outline for my story. Wish me luck kids!

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