JOURNAL EXCERPT: April 23, Sun. 1978 8:15 PM

"I saw R-- at work last night. The [newspaper] bundles were piling up because there wasn't a pickup to put them in, and I was trying to straighten the ones that had fallen off the belt, so I turned around to see who was throwing them on the dock, and I'll be damned if it wasn't
R--. Surprised the shit out of me. He had just come up to get a paper. He wanted me to drop by. 'After work?' I asked.

"'Ok,' he said. Then, 'No, better blow it off. Drop by tomorrow.'

"'Ok, I'll drop by in the afternoon.'

"'Ok.'

"'Probably be around two or three o'clock.'

"'Ok. That's when I get up anyway.'

"'So long.'

"'We'll be seeing you.'

"I called him at 3 o'clock. He wasn't home. I called at 7 thirty. He wasn't home. He was a little drunk I think when I saw him at work last night. I wonder if he remembers."

MANHOOD REDO: This excerpt brings up alcohol for me, such an instrumental and traditional part of masculine identity. R-- was definitely a drinker and definitely someone who worked hard to adopt that "cool" bad boy image, unflappable, unshakable, no matter what the circumstances. He told me once (partly joking, but only partly) that he practiced staying cool so that if there were any loud noises, he wouldn't jerk. The two of us went to a bar on University Avenue for lunch before I had a history test and downed a pitcher of beer, maybe more. I ended up taking the test drunk, a story I told more than once, not only because I managed to score a B but also because it established my manhood credentials.

I didn't start drinking until I was 18 - the legal age in Texas in the mid-1970s. Initially, I found the taste of beer unappealing, but it grew on me quite a bit. My first drunk was with a group of high school classmates during spring break my senior year. The five of us drove around the city downing beers until we decided to go streaking - popular at the time - in front of one of the girls' dorms on the Texas Tech University campus. The driver wouldn't get out of the car; said he had a cold. But the rest of us in various stages of undress - I had my socks and glasses on - ran around in circles, leaping and whooping, waiting for some of the coeds to come out. Of course, they were all gone, which we knew.

I have more drinking stories I could tell, but I'm going to stop here since I don't want to go too far in the direction of proving my manhood through alcohol. I'm not opposed to beer; I like it as much as the next guy. I don't want it to be my primary method of bonding with other guys, though, and I don't want it to define my identity. I can go without it; in fact, I went without it for over twenty years after I developed Type II diabetes. When I was diagnosed at the age of 28, I kept trying to drink the way I had been and it made me feel like crap, so I stopped. I've only recently started drinking beer again, but in moderation - one a day, if that.