One funny moment -- my sister, Lily, Marshall (Ugh! I swear you guys will vomit if you saw him!), Mr. Marzolf and I flew from Dulles International to San Jose -- it was our first time ever (except for Mr. Marzolf), of course -- we were goofy teenagers ... and incredibly dumb. But not dumber like Marshall.
Anyway, my sister is a skilled artist. She and I threw in our stuff for the national competition sponsored by Jr. NAD few weeks before that. But I digress. Back on the airplane en route to Denver. Lily and Marshall split in a row far away from me and Mr. Marzolf. As the plane was steady flowing westward, Mr. Marzolf and I chatted about various things. Suddenly, the flight attendant stared at me and Mr. Marzolf, then stared at the napkin. And smiled with a glee. And tapped Mr. Marzolf for his attention.
Mr. Marzolf is Deaf, like me. We were baffled and asked her what's wrong? She showed the napkin to us. It was a portrait of Mr. Marzolf's face, drew by my sister. Then the flight attendant pointed to the row where my sister and Marshall was sitting. Mr. Marzolf got up and said, "What's wrong? Why did you draw that?"
Lily responded, "The flight attendant don't know your name so I drew to call you over!" Mike said, "You can wander around the plane when it is in the air but not descending or ascending!" We did not know. Like I said, we were dumb teenagers.
Then Lily retorted, "Marshall claimed that this plane flew 65 MPH, is he lying?"
I nearly shot my snot out of my nose -- I was kneeling on the chair staring over the rows to catch what Lily said with her signs. I choked, guffawed and slipped back on the seat.
Mr. Marzolf stared but did not respond and said, "Marshall, this is pointless and idiotic conversation -- that does not warrant anything for you to use the flight attendant to call my attention to prove the point that the speed is 65 MPH. It goes over 400 MPH."
Marshall shot back, "But we have the national speed limit at 65 MPH!!"
Mr. Marzolf said, "I'm not going to talk about it with you now." He slipped back to his seat.
Later during the week at Jr. NAD Convention -- I met a charming fellow named Greg Crane. He and I became inseparable and I was incredibly infatuated with him. At that time, I did not know he was gay as well. I found about that he's gay ... few years later. Sometimes I wonder if I should make a bold move on him when we were in Fremont. Sometimes I attempted to locate him but it was very difficult thing to do so.
I know that he was raised in Seattle, Washington. He was few years older than I am. But what impressed me the most was he came and introduced himself to me. To a freshman who is pretty much new to the Deaf elitism in Fremont, that is remarkable feat, though. The day that we spent together in Fisherman's Wharf and Alcatraz Island -- we were in a group, but Greg and I were on each other. It was nice while it lasted. Later, don't laugh. A fucking sea gull dumped a fucking shit on my shoulder. I was distraught with embarrassment, not from everyone else -- but Greg. Greg was so nice. He said, "That is great! It means a good luck for you."
Later in the evening in Fremont, I won the 1st place in Short Story at Jr. NAD while my sister cinchly picked up the 1st place in Art.
It has been nearly 20 years since I saw Greg. I want to see him again. I do. Maybe for a quickie, yeah. He's cute. Can't help it.