When a member of the Brotherhood of Faggot Church Custodians.
At the time I was seeing another church custodian, also an atheist, who worked for the Lutherans. What would these idiotic religions do without us to clean up after them – or preach to them, I have never met a male Methodist minister who wasn’t either gay or had a gay son or both.
Have you been sweating blood over your religion and the recent bloodletting? Well why not let it lay and take a walk on the free side?
ATHEISM- LET SEVEN BILLION FLOWERS BLOOM
From the diary of a Shuttlecock
October 7, 1981
Letter from a Church Custodian to a Bank Custodian
"Remember what I wrote about last Sunday? I found out more today. The high school students who were having a bake sale not only bought some of their goods form Hy-Vee (then repackaged them to sale at a markup) but also stole more goods from the deaconesses who had brought things for the new members reception and had left them in the back refrigerator. These students then sold the stolen goods to the congregation. Rich Kids, you know.
Today the women’s fellowship held a luncheon and program for fifty women. After the film was over and most of the women had left, one had a stroke.
Waterloo Ambulance is extremely good so she was quickly transported to an E.R. After the ambulance left the room had to be completely redone for a dinner tomorrow…but not because of the medical emergency.
Isn’t life a thin and tasteless broth that looks rich and delicious – from a distance. I’ve seen a photo of Mr. B. taken last April. My, has he ever gotten old and haggard! Looks almost thirty!
I’ve just finished cleaning the churches incinerator (no I didn’t find any gold teeth). It was a …ist job.
Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,"
August 15, 1984
I cut through the County Building on my way to work on the West Side, I scan the Des Moines Register at times I was doing so this morning when a sheriff’s lieutenant ordered me to stop or he would charge me with something, just what he would not say and I could not imagine. The sheriff himself couldn’t come out to speak to me himself; perhaps the fat old thing was wedged too tight to get out of his six hundred dollar office chair (price quoted from a Courier story).
I walked to the library over lunch break and passing the Ritz Bar a man in a combat boots, black sleeveless shirt, camouflage pants and hat printed with the motto “kill all you can” came out. Ugh.
On the way back to work the city police (two young men dressed in business suits) turned sharply into a driveway blocking my path with their little unmarked car. They demanded my ID. When asked why, they would only say that they had had a report that someone who looked like me had been reported to be walking down that street. That Very Street!
Back at the church I came upon an accident; a rather fat boy had just been struck by a car outside the church. He wasn’t hurt badly and could walk after a while. The police never showed up for that. Perhaps they needed a rest after harassing me.
Returning home after work I walked by the East bank of the river and there were a man and his teenage son (I think son) who were also walking by the river. They were both in pseudo military drag and wore T-shirts with skulls under the motto ‘Kill Them All’.
Whatever happen to, "all you need is love” and that fellow who said something about ‘blessed are the peace makers’?
At dawn on the next day a little rain fell, I can’t remember the last date we had rain.
October 30, 1984 Hospital Story
After the hernia surgery, no sooner than I was returned to my patient room from recovery when a young woman rang my telephone; she asked if she had reached the Waterloo Sickroom Supply Store. She hadn’t. Then a drunk called asking if Lisa was there. She wasn’t.
I had to roll over to my left each time I answered the phone and thought my guts were going to pull right out. So when I said goodbye to Lisa’s friend I placed the phone in my bed. Instantly Doctor Gerard, my surgeon, burst into the room, said that I’ll done real well then grabbed up the phone saying that I didn’t need that and placed it even farther away on the bedside table than it had been before and rushed out. The phone rang at once; it was the drunk again still asking for Lisa.
While I’ld been in the OR, a young Redheaded school bus driver had been brought into the room suffering from a kidney stone.
That first day he threw up every few minutes until late in the night. At last he stopped and at last I slept but awoke at three and four. I got out of bed as I had become so congested that I could no longer breathe while lying on my back. I stood up until after seven AM, barefoot on the cold floor. At last I had drained and was given a Sudafed so I returned to bed. I slept for about forty–five minutes when an orderly, Sid, awoke me to take a shower. I sent him away with a tongue lashing. He returned and after some more verbal abuse left for good. I settled down again to sleep, and then the unwanted breakfast tray came.
The Redhead who began throwing up again upon waking stopped throwing up in favor of calling everyone he knew telling them about the queer orderly who wanted to give us showers. I began to hate him, but later when his girl friend, Shegundela, came I overheard him tell her that I was pretty cool for a queer.
She stayed until ten at night, two hours after the rest of the Universe (which had loudly crowed into his half of the room). With the Universe gone she felt free to get into bed and have sex with him – but they did close the curtain – civilized you know.
When she left, he turned on the TV loud enough to keep me awake then passed out from his last hypo. The next night was the same only that the Redhead had been to surgery and still had the stone upon returning, so Shegundela and I had to comfort him. He was also catheterized which added panic to his despair. I rather liked that. In fact even all these years later, I still have warm and pleasurable feelings thinking about him crying. And he really was in tears from fright because of the catheter.
From three till seven, while the Redhead was in the OR and recovery, I thought to get a bit of sleep. Good luck Davy, after an hour or so of rest, Dr. Gerard burst in to demand to know why I wasn’t up walking.
On Friday before I was discharged, a young woman called asking it she’d reach Dr. Jacobi’s office. Jacobi was a lovely elderly Panamanian Jew and Gerard’s partner. By the way my room wasn’t his office.
Oh, yes Sid did help me to the showers and was required as part of his job to stand in a corner to watch in case I fell. He certainly did watch and enjoyed what he saw even though I was swollen, bruised and just beginning to turn all shades of plum, and green and sick yellows. But far from being offended I was rather flattered.
I came home from the hospital yesterday, it seems much longer. All that reaching for the wrong numbers had opened something within me causing bleeding which resulted in the psychedelic colored bruising and the abdominal swelling which prevented the flies of my pants to close for a week. Any pressure against my wound is painful but I can cough a bit now, although the weight of blanket is more than I can stand for long without a burning sensation.
21 December 1984: A Pair of Constipated Owls
Freezing rain began falling before I awoke and it still pouring down at eight-thirty. I’ve been out in it from necessity and have gotten my feet and lower legs soaked and I am now sitting over an electric space heater drying out. The walks are covered with a hardening slush and then a flood of ice water. The gutters are running over with rapid gluts of water.
There is a house on South Street that has been decorated with stings of blue lights – so pretty in this grey morning. The lights were shut off just as I raised my camera.
The bosses have been quite unbearable during the past few days; it’s like being caged with a pair of constipated owls.
May 21, 1985 Tuesday
The church was broken into last night and its’ computer (actually only a part of it), a typewriter and Tom’s (the associate minister) radio was stolen. They entered through one of the windows in Tom’s office. Excuse me everyone; that is Tommy not Tom, Tommy is on his birth certificate. I’m very sure that he would like you to know that.
Dad is in hospital but stabilizing. I am afraid that his heart has been permanently weakened by his stubborn foolishness. He’s afraid of doctors, and with the quacks Rath’s used as company doctors when he worked there no one can blame him but we have real ones now, but he’s afraid so he won’t go to them until it’s late in the game and then lies to them, I have to go into the exam room now to keep him from saying ‘oh I’m alright’ and then trying to divert the doctor into a conversation about sport. He’s really good at that.
May 23, 1985 Thursday
Last night at supper, Dad called from the hospital.
Then Jo Siddens called to ask about bus service as her car was disabled.
Then Dola Voshel called because she couldn’t reach her mother Alyce Cousins on Lafayette Street. I promised to investigate.
Then Martha B. called to ask about the Robbery at the church.
The irises are in full bloom.
P.S. Upon investigation Alyce was alright and I did finish super before bed.
June 9, 1985 Sunday
Father is very unwell and restless is also depressing and wearing. Each night is a long ordeal.
Arriving at work today I noticed a screen had been moved from a window. Someone had broken into the church before nine Friday night and stole a VCR player from the coffee hour room. I can’t remember if this was the time the burglar cut himself on the glass and bled all over the church. I wish that SOB had just bled out right there. If I had found his dead body I would have pissed on it before I called the cops.
July 9, 1985 Tuesday
Yesterday was my day off. When I got to work no one was in the building. The security lights were not on but the air conditioner in the computer room was as well as a large coffee urn in the kitchen.
Tagged: , Gay Men , Gay , Gay Iowans , homosexual , homosexuality , faggots , Waterloo, Iowa , Church Custodians , burgle , buglers , crime , cops , men who shouldn’t have children , hernia surgery , Hospitals , bad room mates , Police harassment