Its River Phoenix's bday. In 1993 after he died i stayed up until 4AM and wrote something about him ... how we were the same age and how I thought I was actually perfect for him and how embarrassing that is to admit and now I would watch him become a nostalgia object while I grew older which is exactly what is happening and I had zero clue nostalgia-vehicles like Instagram would even be invented. The next morning at my job I secretly faxed it to a dozen outlets (faxed!). The Village Voice took it. It was the first thing I had published in NYC and a lot happened from it: I came out to my parents, I met the inimitable Hilton Als, I got my first writing gig (for Vibe magazine) and my first angry letter in response (early lesson: when you write something emotional, other people's difficulty with their emotions sometime lead them to respond angrily at you). Anyway, you can find it on my website mikealbo.net but here's the last graph: "Well I guess this is a testament to the fact that I am still a gaywad over River Phoenix, and totally queer about being attached to a celebrity i probably never would have met. I imagine the cruel, vital lesson I am supposed to learn at 23 is that I am still a fool for the illusion of Hollywood and stardom, that my younger days dreaming in Springfield of making it big, meeting someone big, going somewhere bigger beyond my front yard, all that is over. Grow up, Mike. It's time to be mature and serious. it's time to bite down and work hard and earn your small salary. Your teen screen love is dead. Grow up, Mike."