BijouBlog

Last Halloween, I wrote a couple of blogs regarding some of America’s most haunted spots. These places just so happen to be located in Rhode Island; one of them (Mercy Brown’s Grave) is just ten minutes from my parents' house inside the Chestnut Hill Cemetery at 10 Round Top Road in Exeter, RI. Another (Vampire’s Grave, where Nellie Vaughn was buried) is about twenty-five minutes from home, located inside the Plain Meeting House Cemetery in West Greenwich, RI. Sockanosett, aka The Bad Boys School, is on Chapel Hill near Garden City, which is about forty minutes away. The “real” Conjuring House is way the fuck out in the sticks at 1677 Round Top Road in Burrillville, RI and was a real bitch to find! Finally, Ladd School (Boys Asylum) is literally three minutes away, with only the Veterans Cemetery standing between the Ladd School property and my parents' neighborhood! (You can catch up and read my two blogs about all of those sites before proceeding, if you like: BAD BOYS SCHOOL blog and VAMPIRE'S GRAVE blog.)

This past July and August, my partner Tony and I went back east to spend a week with my parents and then hit the road to visit Hudson, NY, Boston and Provincetown, Cape Cod. I have to say, Hudson, NY experienced a resurgence like no other! Hudson, a very small city, is a two-hour Amtrak ride from Penn Station and was pretty down and out - that is, until Covid-19 hit. During that time, New Yorkers were buying up properties in Hudson for next to nothing. A city filled with amazing Victorians priced in the $20,000s and $30,000s! My Aunt lives half an hour away, and evidently the city was crime-ridden and run down. We actually were there about eleven years ago and it was pretty sketchy, but now the gays went in, restored the old buildings, gentrified the place (except south of 3rd street) and gay flags are on most businesses up and down the two major streets. Our VRBO was only $168 per night for a two-bedroom in a beautifully restored Victorian. Real estate prices are now a lot higher, where what you could buy for $30k is now over 100K… but even that!!! Boston was exceptional, as well. I thought I would be cheeky and book us into the Eliot Hotel, my namesake, in the back-bay neighborhood right near Newberry Street. What a gem! If ever in Boston!!

The most fun for us while visiting my parents in Rhode Island was dragging them along to all these places they would never go to on their own. The first full day was rain, rain, rain and I wasn’t about to stay in the house watching my dad stare at CNBC with the stock market ticker-tape on the bottom. I told them to get dressed and didn’t say where we were going. Unbeknownst to them, I had mapped out Mercy Brown’s gravesite and Vampire’s Grave on MapQuest (yes, I still prefer the print-out to my phone, don’t judge). I was surprised how close Mercy was to their house, and even though it was pouring rain I had to jump out of the car and get a selfie! They just seemed confused as to why I had to visit this site, so I gave them the whole Mercy Brown story with six degrees of separation to Bram Stoker’s Dracula. They pretended to be interested, but when the story was over they were like, “Where the hell are you driving to?” because we were on some really rural roads. I then started telling the story of Nellie Vaughn and how every kid in high school had a Vampire’s Grave experience, a typically very stoned one. We pulled up to Vampire’s Grave and the sun actually came out so we all ventured onto the grounds and I led them to Nellie’s plot. It had been at least forty-four years, give or take, since I had visited the Plain Meeting House Cemetery and since then the town removed Nellie’s headstone because of all the vandalism. They seemed bored, so I then suggested that we head to Iggy’s for Lobster Rolls and they all, including Tony, perked up!

I let the whole “haunting” thing go for a couple days, until I asked them to direct me how to get to Sockanosset. Also known throughout my childhood as the Bad Boys School, it was always a chilling place to drive or walk through from the moment I first saw it as a kid. I was pleased to see they incorporated some of the old 19th century buildings into a reimagined living, dining and entertainment area. When I saw that the old chapel and hospital building was converted into The Chapel Grill, I insisted we stop there for lunch. They said it was fine dining, and it was, but they had an amazing three-course pre-fix for $25! In fact, I have to say I would move back to Rhode Island for the restaurant prices alone. Where else in the northeast can you get a cheese omelet, hash browns and a grilled, not toasted, English muffin for $6.95 and only fifty cents for each additional item inside it! Not even at Denny’s! The inside of the Chapel Grille was stunning featuring restored stone and beams; so glad they preserved it.

Our last day before leaving, I surprised everyone with tickets to tour the “real” Conjuring House. They shot the movie in Currie, North Carolina, but the Perron family home was actually in Burrillville, RI. I bought tickets from their website while I was back in Palm Desert, because it looked like every weekend was selling out way in advance. Once we finally found the place, we were met by our tour guide, an actual medium. Since we were early, she showed us on her cell phone a previous tour where a cabinet door swung open as a guest walked past. She said the past few weeks were pretty active for the spirits. She told us we could walk down to the field where the famous tree from the movie was located, and to just make our way up to the house around the start time of the tour. We walked down and noticed several glamping sites that were set up in the field and one small trailer camping site. It was pretty cool that they are expanding the experience for guests. They even offer an overnight experience in the house for groups of up to six people for around $1000 and $1300 on weekends. It is popular with paranormal investigators. The glamping sites go for $300 - $400 a night. Not a bad business! (As I write this, I see the business, house and estate - as of August 2024 - is on the market for 1.2 million, Sotheby’s. Oh, if I were younger!) They did have a fire in 2023 and the barn burned down early one morning. The owners explained that it was not the “spirits” but, rather, a worker who did not store his chemicals properly and they ignited.

The group tour, with about thirty attendees, was really well done and the house did not disappoint. In the upstairs bedroom, my dad suddenly yelled out, scaring the shit out of everyone. He was freaking out and said that something tapped him on the back! I quickly looked at my partner Tony and I could tell by his shit-eating grin that he had tapped my dad on the back and quickly stepped away! We let the others know right away. The basement was by far the creepiest for me. It was there that the drawing of the “Crooked Man” from one of the Perron children was located. There was also a deep well (a la The Ring) that was located there. It was explained that houses were built over wells, because if someone wanted to steal their land they would poison their water supply. Having the well in the basement kept it protected.

On our last morning with my parents, we finished our $6.95+ breakfast and were heading back to their house to say our goodbyes and drive to Provincetown. As we left the restaurant parking lot, my dad pointed to a road across the street that looked unpaved for years and overgrown with shrubs. “Ladd School is up that street,” he chimed out. I was like, “What!” He quickly turned and headed towards home. I was shocked to hear that Ladd School was not 500 feet from the entrance to their neighborhood. Once we said goodbye and headed off in our rental car, it took every kind of self-control known to man for me not to turn up that street, but Tony would have killed me and we had that long drive to Provincetown. You can bet your butt my next trip home will include a journey up that road to Ladd School, the most haunted of them all!

I've added a few YouTube links to mini videos on the CONJURING HOUSE, LADD SCHOOL, BAD BOYS SCHOOL, VAMPIRE'S GRAVE (video 1 & video 2) and MERCY BROWN as supplemental materials.

Bio of Josh Eliot:

At the age of 25 in 1987, Josh Eliot was hired by Catalina Video by John Travis (Brentwood Video) and Scott Masters (Nova Video). Travis trained Eliot on his style of videography and mentored him on the art of directing. Josh directed his first movie, Runaways, in 1987. By 2009 when Josh parted ways with Catalina Video, he'd produced and directed hundreds of features and won numerous awards for Best Screenplay, Videography, Editing, and Directing. He was entered into the GayVN Hall of fame in 2002.

By Will Seagers

Hello Folks. Will Here! The title of this piece refers to a philosophical retrospective on my life and what I thought were catastrophic events, but turned out to be the flow of good fortunes that followed... "Life Goes On."

I am an emotional and caring individual who, over the years, has developed an actual talent of hiding my feelings lest they be taken advantage of or manipulated. Suffering from an almost "Pollyanna" belief in the goodness of humanity, I have had some rude awakenings.

As a child, I endured painful events both physical and social. The physical was having two congenital inguinal hernias. At the age of seven, I had my first hernia repair. Back in those days, the procedure left me with what I called a Frankenstein scar and a lack of mobility for several weeks. But, my scar healed I and moved along my path of life with few, if any, people noticing this scar even with the close up lenses of cameras to come.

On this path of life, personality traits started to surface that were sort of androgynous... the "gay thing" was starting to happen. One memory early in my childhood was having my father enroll me in little league. I liked the t-shirt and cap I wore and that's where it ended. I was terrified of throwing, running and all of the activities that would have given away my little secret. My parents saw my anxiety and let me off the hook... Life strangely move me onto another sports arena... track and field. I could run, leap and bound my way into acceptance.

In middle school, my appreciation and participation in the arts brought me further into expressing myself. And, it was at this point - a point of no return - that I said to myself: "to hell with what other people think of me!" If I appeared to be gay... so be it.

With the flurry of hormones one experiences in adolescence, it was a good thing that I had made friends with myself and enjoyed the encounters of boys discovering themselves and other boys. No longer willing to be stifled, there were some heavy encounters with my parents. Without saying it, I let them know that this is who I am. Mind you, it did not come from a place of defiance. I knew that it was a more difficult path to walk. And, one that felt right to me.

The first romantic encounter that I can remember happened in my early twenties. Although sex had been plentiful, it was just sex. Then, a most beautiful fellow entered into the picture who stopped me dead in my tracks. At that time, I was a steward in the airlines. We met in a local Jersey Shore gay club. I was thrilled when saw that our attraction was mutual. The sex was crazy - and like I had never had before. I fell head over heels in love. Tall, very well built and with a full flaxen head of hair, I thought I had met my soulmate. This was my "Pollyanna" talking. The depth of my feelings were countered by the superficiality of his. The relationship lasted only long enough for him to take notes. In short order after we parted ways, he became a steward and I was not surprised when I saw him gracing the pages of several Colt magazines. Only now do I feel the pleasure of having been a role model.

After we split up, I had a bit of a breakdown and actually got sick. This emotional and physical malady eventually faded away. I learned a lot about him, but even more about myself. It was years before I was romantically involved again. I really needed to let life go on without any entanglements.

It was about five years later when I moved to San Francisco and had my first true love affair. Tommy and I met almost immediately after I arrived in the city by the bay. It was the first time that I felt a mutual love. We moved in together after a few short weeks of courting. We remained together until his passing fourteen years later in 1989. Here is when I thought for the first time that life wasn't moving on. Losing a true partner is devastating. It took almost five years before I felt comfortable enough to experience that special feeling again. But, life moved on, after all.

Seven years later, in 1995, my spouse and I met at the Roxy Dance Hall in the Chelsea section of New York. That night, we had a lot of fun dancing up a storm and flirting like crazy. At sunrise, when we left the club, I told him that I really wanted to see him again. As overly dramatic as it seemed, I could feel that this was the person that I really wanted to be with. Life did go on for us. We became the couple of my dreams, living in NYC and then moving to the Southwest, where we bought a home together and ultimately got married in 2022.

In my mid seventies, I do a lot of recollecting and reminiscing. I am grateful for my life, my dear friends and especially my spouse. I guess I am forever that "Pollyanna," still looking forwards to the future as life goes on!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

By Will Seagers

Hi Folks, Will Here! In the spirit of "The Good Old Summertime," today's blog is about my life's encounters with the great and not so great bodies of water around the globe.

Born right at the edge of two signs, Capricorn (the sea goat) and Aquarius (the water bearer), I have had a life-long affinity to water. Until recently, I have had the privilege of living near an ocean, bay, lake or pond. There has always been a feeling of connection with these various bodies of water. From childhood till about twenty-five years ago, I was always within a short walk or drive to these "spiritual retreats." For the last twenty-five years, I have been surrounded by an inland ocean, so to speak - the Great American Southwest Desert!

Recounting the early years, my father was kind enough to take my brothers, sisters and myself to the "Shore" or to various man-made lakes in the northern part of my home state, New Jersey. The shore visits were always memorable because lots of our extended family lived along the coast. They were like mini family reunions. With that, a host of my aunts and uncles had us under their close watch and "policed" our activities in the water. Good thing, too, as riptides and turbulence were common occurrences. Although the beaches were always staffed with lifeguards, you could never have too many eyes on the kids in the water.

Next stop, the lakes. Another set of memories came from my father taking us kids up to "the lakes." These were in the northern counties of N.J. and usually fed by a nearby natural spring. I loved the lakes because the water was fresh and potable, unlike the brine of the ocean. But, here is where I had my first brush with mortality. I was about seven or eight and still didn't know how to swim. Normally, this would not be a problem, as I seldom ventured beyond the water's edge. But, this one outing we brought an old inner tube with us for some floating fun. Being the oldest of my siblings, I laid claim to it and promptly started floating out to the middle of the lake. I was okay until a rather nasty looking horse fly landed on my arm. Terrified, I swatted at my arm and went ass over tea kettle out of the inner tube and into about twenty feet of water. In a panic, I sunk below the water's surface. Luckily, the lifeguard snagged me by the back of the neck and hauled me to shore... safe but shaken. Swimming lessons soon followed. In the interim between my inner tube feat and learning to swim, my father was kind enough to erect an above ground pool in the backyard. It was quite sizeable and a big hit in the neighborhood... to say the least.

Learning to swim at the YMCA. Yet another fine gesture of my father was weekly visits to the local "Y." To say that I was stimulated by the size of the pool and the fact that all the men in the pool were naked was an understatement. After the initial shock of it all wore off, I was ready, willing and able to learn how to swim. My only regret was the horrific chlorine levels of this pool. My eyes burned and stayed red for hours.

Move the calendar forward fifteen years... San Juan and a few oceanic escapades. While stationed in San Juan with Eastern Airlines, I lucked out. I shared a beach side casita just minutes from the famous Condado resort beaches and their hotels. Before flights, particularly in the winter, I would grab my beach chair and head down for an hour or so of sun to flaunt aboard the airplanes. One morning while taking a dip in front of the Carribe Hilton, I saw the commotion of two locals swimming furiously into the water with bowie knives in their mouths. An unusual sight, indeed. But the swimmers around me stayed put. Moments later, all of us were shocked as the two men returned back to shore with two hammerhead sharks they retrieved from the very area we all were in! The local hotels paid men like these a bounty for catching these sharks. The other pre-flight swim that vividly comes to mind was me coming up out of the water underneath a Portuguese Man-O-War! What a horror. It seemed like forever before I had removed all of the stinging tentacles from my face. I was assisted by a hotel lifeguard who knew to spray my face with benzocaine. I guess I wasn't his first. I was thankful. In just a few short minutes, the red and swelling vanished and I was home and showering for my flight. Man-O-War, indeed!

Half a decade later I was living in San Francisco and enjoying both the frigid Pacific waters at San Gregorio beach (just north of San Francisco), and the lovely, almost tepid waters of the Russian River near Guerneville. The beach was great. And, as long as the day was hot enough the Pacific could be tolerated - albeit for brief dips! And, the little enclaves along the base of the mountains were perfect places to take full advantage of the clothing optional status!

Of course, clothing optional was the way of life along the Russian River banks, as well. Lots of romping in the nearby woods was standard bill of fare. (You just had to be careful of poison ivy and ticks!) I was privy to seeing the whole Russian River resort phenomenon explode. No more bushes and ticks. Resorts like The Woods and Fifes were a more civilized approach. And happily, the clothing optional thing followed along, too!

Oh, and did I mention that I was bi-coastal at this point? I spent half my year in S.F. and the other half on Fire Island working in The Pines as (you got it) a lifeguard at the Boatel. After getting my Red Cross certification at the downtown S.F. YMCA, I matriculated from Pines waiter to Pines lifeguard! It was a small pool with a bar and restaurant attached. So, some slinging of drinks and food came along with the title.

In the 1990s, I return to the East Coast. I was soon acquainted with Sandy Hook State Park Beach. Although from N.J. originally, I never knew about nor had I ever visited this beach. At the very tip of Monmouth County with a view of Manhattan, its white sandy beaches beckoned another clothing optional crowd. I liked the beach and the crowd and made some buddies straight up. The water's temps were comfortable and the water was quite clean... All the better to see bouncing genitals in the surf! LOL. You did have to be aware of the local park police who seemed to delight in hauling off beach patrons for anything they deemed as lude or lascivious. It was hard to stay behaved with so much flesh in your face! But behaved you were or off you went in a paddy wagon!

South Beach followed. What more can I say. It was 1994 and the gay invasion had begun down there. I had never seen anything like it. Stuff went on right on the beach with no cops to be found! I know firsthand... it happened to me. I didn't really like the water too much. It was like a bathtub and not particularly clean. Oh. And, did I mention the frequent sightings of Portuguese Men-O-War? Reason enough to stay on the beach and ogle all of the cuties! Just when I thought I saw the most handsome man in the world, the next contender blew him right off the map! But, it was a very - let me repeat, VERY - fast-paced town. It was very hard to make friends because people were here one day and gone the next! (Quel problème!)

Now in my seventies, I revel in all of my memories of the beaches, rivers, ponds and lakes. Of late, I have traded the vast oceanic vistas for those of the Southwest desert. They are quite beautiful, too. But, I will have to admit It is hard to splash around and frolic in the desert sand!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

By Will Seagers

Salut, les gens - Will ici! So, here's an appropriate greeting to go along with my blog title! BTW, it's how I open each blog - but, with a French twist! I have been in love with the French language and culture from a very early age... seven to be exact!

My first two years were spent in a parochial school in the northern New Jersey town of Bloomfield. I was so scared of the nuns that I literally got sick every morning before leaving for school. It was standard operating procedure for the nuns to resort to corporal punishment at the slightest infraction of their strict rules. Add to this my first grade teacher, Sister Marie, who could have been a line backer or a professional wrestler, if you catch my drift. My strongest recollection of her brutality was watching one of my classmates come hurtling out of the far end of the cloak room - some twenty feet - after raising the ire of Sr. Marie! The kids were no angels. But, IMHO, the punishment far exceeded the crimes! Oh, ironically, Sr. Marie was part of the order of "Sisters of Charity." 'Nuf said.

At the end of first grade, my parents decided to buy a lovely home in the Brookdale section of Bloomfield on the other side of town. As fate would have it, the purchase of the house left my family a bit strapped for cash. So, that year in second grade I was enrolled in a public school. Whew! Adding to my delight was my teacher, Miss Garneau, who took the place of my Sumo wrestler. She was lovely and had a kind disposition. As I remember, she had only recently moved to the United States from France. Although she never spoke French in the classroom, her accent left an indelible mark on me. This stayed with me till I got to high school and started to really learn and love the language. With Miss Garneau, I felt "rescued" from the wrestling mat! Merci!

In high school, I never considered myself to be any kind of whiz kid. That was, until I landed up in French I class with an incredibly motivating teacher. Under his tutelage, I quickly blossomed into one of his best students. He had a very direct manner and always maintained complete control over the class. With his precise methods, I learned grammatical structure, vocabulary and lots of idiomatic phrases. I remember using these idiomatic phrases, which seemed to surprise French nationals - as most were not normally included in the language's curriculum. Another of his grammatical gifts was teaching us how to line up the many types of pronouns in a sentence for proper flow. Having a techy side, the mechanics and structures intrigued me. All in all, my teacher was as impressed with me as I was with him. I stayed on with him for the next three years, learning as much as I could about the language and culture.

Originally, I had planned for a career in engineering. My foray into engineering school was short lived. Although, as I have mentioned, I have a techy side, higher mathematics did me in! I left engineering school after only a year. Then, after bouncing around in the party-like atmosphere of a community college, I realized that I did not have the discipline to be a student. And, I couldn't rationalize the continued spending on schools. Oh... and did I mention that I had just come out?! Along with this whole new world of possibilities, I was morphing from an ugly duckling teenager into a desirable young lad. I was having too much fun to buckle down and be any kind of student!

Enter Eastern Airlines... Here I got to mix fun and work! Back in the early 70s after I decided to take a break from school, I remembered hearing advertisements for openings for stewards and stewardesses on New York metro radio stations. I thought... Voilà! I might like to work for Pan Am and use some of that acquired French! So, I got all dressed up and headed into NYC for an interview. Strangely, I never never got to the Pan Am interview. Eastern Airlines' NY headquarters was right en route to the Pan Am building. At the Eastern building, I was cordially greeted and interviewed by a former flight attendant who hailed from Montreal. Detecting her accent, I proceeded to hold the rest of the interview in French. She was amused and delighted. I was hired on the spot! (This was quite a feather in my cap, as most candidates had one or more follow-up interviews.) So, off I went to Miami Springs, Florida to Eastern's training facility.

Training was fun and not too difficult. I was in a large class with a lot of nice looking and pleasant people. At the end on my training, I was assigned to JFK as my base. This was my first of three times that I called NYC my home. Because of my French qualification, I flew between New York's JFK or La Guardia to Montreal. These shuttle flights were called "L'Aero Navette" (Air Shuttle). I was a little nervous using my high school French on board. But, aside from a few chuckles over my accent, everything went quite well. However, after a year of living on Manhattan's upper East Side on a flight attendant's salary, I opted to be reassigned to San Juan, PR for my base. After having several flights there, I wanted to trade the snow shovel for a beach.

I arrived in SJU on July 4th, 1972 with a mop of very stylish long 70s hair. With the 90 degree heat and 90%+ humidity, that didn't last long. I was one of the first people to get a "Clone Cut." Short hair was becoming chic in the early 70s and the upkeep was perfect for my appearance requirements. Although I loved living in San Juan, I had rather 'turbulent" times at my new base. Power outages were a frequent occurrence. And, although I was warned by my co-workers to get a mechanical alarm clock, I did not. I missed two flights in one month. Unfortunately, that was grounds for termination. I was let go. This was a humbling experience, as I returned back to stay with my family in NJ till I got back on my feet.

Although I have never had a job requiring me to speak French since then, it has always come in handy in my other public-related jobs and my travels to France. Yes! In 1988, my dreams of traveling to Paris finally came true! That was the first trip, but certainly not my last!

One thing I noticed is how French-speaking people appreciated a few words in their native tongue. Beware. You might get corrected mid-sentence! LOL! So, even though my fluency was never 100%, my efforts were usually greeted with enthusiasm. And, to this day, I still try to remember all that I learned so many decades ago. You never know when it might be useful! Au revoir!

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo

By Will Seagers

Hi Folks! "Will at Large" here for you today on this fortuitous "Ides of March" Friday. Yes, this is a departure from my ramblings about my past in the wonderful world of porn. But, there has always been a very large part of me that is drawn to the occult and esoteric parts of life. It is an ironic contrast to the showy and external nature of porn. Here, we find ourselves diving deep inside to find answers to questions that we barely know we are asking. Yet they are there tugging at us! One of which is the Idus Martias - better know as the Ides of March!

First off, there is so much negativity and bad reputation that has come to surround "The Ides of March," which is hardly the case. I guess that most of the negativity is due to our old friend William Shakespeare. He immortalized the phrase in the infamous death of Julius Caesar in the play by the same name.

With a little combing through the internet, I have come to find that the Ides were one of four time markers used by the Romans in their Lunar Calendars. The Ides were a time marker indicating the 13th to the 15th of most months (including March). The Ides were joined by the "Kalends" - the first of the month and the "Nones" around the 7th of the month. These were time markers indicated by the phases of the Moon, so there was some variation from month to month similar to what we experience in the variations of our current calendars. My point in all of this is that it is not a given that the Ides are a bad thing. As a matter of fact, as we draw closer to this infamous day, things (for me at least) are on an unusual upswing!

For the past few days I have had a most unusual and symbolic visitor - a Peacock. And, for the past few days, he has been roosting on my roof as well as that of my next door neighbor. According to a neighborhood blog, the bird was first sighted last Friday. Animal authorities have been notified as well as the police. But, it seems no one wants the arduous task of collecting this bird, as they can be quite feisty and hard to capture. So, for the time being he has become our neighborhood mascot!

Now, not only does the Ides of March have a lot of history and symbolism tied to it... but, so does the sighting, or even moreso the visiting, of a peacock! Once again, the internet to the rescue! So many cultures revere this bird and attach symbolic strength, power, confidence and even divinity to it. I would have written it off as a freak migratory event... but, it has remained here for the past few days without enticement from me or my neighbor! So, I don my Merlin wizard cap and try to get a sense of what's going on.

OK, I am currently 73 and am trying to figure out what these "golden years" ahead of me have in store. May I mention that having had some fame and glamour earlier in my life, it is sometimes hard to face the aging game. Yes, I valiantly and religiously go to the gym and try to keep a modicum of my past physique intact. I am grateful to have the strength to do it. And, I love to write to engage my mind and keep memories intact. Sometimes this routine needs an external jolt to help these processes to continue.

The Jolts. Recently there have been three: two that were tough and one that was a near miracle and that I would like to attribute to both the "Ides and the Peacock." The two tough ones were the loss of a life long friend to cancer. And, the other was a disturbing cancellation of a friendship - the cause of which I still can't determine. The positive jolt ties in mysteriously with the arrival of my friend the peacock. Out of the blue, I received a call from a long time friend from San Francisco. Coincidentally, this person who called has had a life long relationship with the "friend" that canceled my friendship just before Christmas and was responsible for bringing me and my former friend together.

My friend calling from San Francisco heard my tale of woe concerning the "cancellation" and, in a powerful and loving way, put my whole spirit at ease. He acknowledged that this was a behavior pattern that he knew from this former friend. I felt like a millstone had been taken from around my neck. I felt guilt and blame lift from me that I had been carrying since the altercation around the holidays.

Just after this phone call, I felt a mental and spiritual shift occur. I mused over the "blessing" that I had - with the call and the visit of my peacock totem. One of my research articles from the web referred to the sighting or visiting of a peacock as a time to "open up to new possibilities and to trust in yourself more."

I am grateful for acknowledging this sixth sense that I have always had with me both on and off the screen. It is definitely part of who I am. Be aware of your blessings.

Bio of Will Seagers:

Will Seagers (also credited as Matt Harper), within his multifaceted careers and participation in numerous gay communities across the country in the '70s and '80s and beyond, worked as a print model, film performer, and DJ, just to name a few. He made iconic appearances in releases from Falcon, Hand in Hand, Joe Gage, Target (Bullet), J. Brian, Steve Scott, and more, including in lead roles in major classics like Gage's L.A. Tool & Die (1979) and Scott's Wanted (1980). He brought strong screen presence and exceptional acting to his roles and was scene partners with many fellow legends of classic porn.

Will Seagers, recent photo