The other day I came across this picture of Tom and I...from a Christmas many years ago. To be honest, I had forgot that I even had this picture so coming across it was a pleasant surprise. I believe it is the only picture that I have of Tom.
Tom had an acerbic wit and that is how he got his nickname of Tacky Tom. The nickname had rather humble beginnings that came about because I had three friends with the name Tom. So to differentiate the Tom I might be talking about, I would add a description. Eventually that description would be shortened to one word. "Tom, the Tom that can be kind of tacky at times" became "Tacky Tom."
Tacky Tom was one of the first friends I made when I came out as a gay man...and started building a new life with new friends. He'd studied music at the University of Indiana...and when I met him, he was working as an accountant. We kind of had that fit because I had studied history at Bethel University yet I was working in banking. Majors that did not quite translate into our careers.
He had a tiny apartment in south Minneapolis way back then. The reason I mention the apartment is one of my memories is of an "after bar party" that he had there one Saturday night. Because Minnesota is very prudish, the bars are only open until 1am. Consequently, when you are young, 1am is the start of the night...and after bar parties were common back then. For instance if you were at the Gay 90s and it was around midnight, rumors would begin to fly through the place about various "after bar parties" and their locations.
One Saturday night Tom decided it would be fun to have a party at this place. OMG! It was a wild success...his tiny apartment was so jam packed with people that it was nearly impossible to move! Of course, at that these parties everyone brought their own booze. The drinks flowed, the music was loud, the crowd fun...and Tom was scared that the police would be called and/or he would be evicted. LOL
Thankfully neither happened.
Another fun memory was of me helping him decorate his Christmas tree at a small (tiny?) house that he was then renting in south Minneapolis. It was a big tree in a small stand in a small living room. We were in the process of hanging ornaments when I realized the tree was starting to fall in my direction. Well, I turned and ran from the room as the tree crashed to the floor behind me...as if it were chasing me.
I turned around to view the damage...the tree on the floor, Tom standing there with his mouth open. There was a moment of dead silence before we burst into laughter...tears in our eyes type of laughter.
Precious memories.
The years flew by and then Tacky Tom and I lost contact. I was living in San Francisco and he remained in Minneapolis. And then the AIDs epidemic hit along with all of its turmoil and we both disappeared from each other.
Every time I think of Tacky Tom my heart smiles because of the good memories. Wherever he is, I hope he is doing well...and I sure hope he has not lost that acerbic tongue of his! LOL
God bless you Tacky Tom.
~Wylddane