Following is the conclusion to the taped interview with Padric McGarry made in New York City in 1977 also a stock photo of Veronica Lake from the 40s, a prototype, like Dorothy Lamour or Lauren Bacall whom Padric resembled when I first knew him in that long-ago time. Padric, birth to death, coming soon in The Potato Eater.

“Another I remember vividly, a red neck from Alabama, had an 11 inch prick. There was a bouquet of flowers, a battleship and three little pigs tattooed on the head. I loved to trick with him, get it hard just to look at the gallery of tattoos. My longest encounter? Well, in federal prison, the elite country club, I could put up a blanket in front of my cell and we could get buck naked and go to bed, and have, gee, a half hour. That’s like 10 hours out here.

Often, if men don’t come in gay, time erodes their heterosexual resistance to what they’ve been trained to believe is abnormality. The love hunger begins, they get tired of beating their meat. Without sex and love the soul shrivels. Their will to live says, ‘Alright, if I’ve got to suck a prick or get fucked to feel some peace, okay okay.’ Many can’t ever get over the experience of prison sexuality when they get out. In my case, after I got out for good, I was unpassionate for the longest time because of the deadly habit in prison of sex under tension.”