Little Alvin in Wonderland

When I was 12 years old I would listen to the radio to hear Barry Gray, Long John Nebil, The Shadow and Captain Midnight. They delighted me as a young boy growing up in Williamsburg. Before the world of cable TV, my fantasies were limited to the grandiosity of being a superhero. Having a dumb father, a delusional mother and a brother who was psychotic meant my choices were limited. In today’s world we have 150 stations, high definition, DVD’s and the Internet which has destroyed the printed word. Back then, I was a fat Jewish kid who jerked off daily just to make sure his pipes were working and dreamed about the world that existed over the Williamsburg Bridge. My dreams were many but the practicality of my execution was like Hitler putting Jews into Auschwitz. I was an outlaw who listened to the music of Elvis Presley and the disc jockey Moon Dog. I lived in a world where woman would break your heart and Pat Boone was king. Rather than the cynical Rabelaisian music of today my fantasies included Henry Miller, Frank Harris, Chaucer and James Joyce. That world also included the romance of Rock Hudson and Doris Day. The reason I became the pornographer I did was to compensate for the lies I grew up with.