Petrelis Files

NYT: ACT UP Writer, Companion
'Affirm Their Partnership'

Just a few weeks ago, I ran into my friend Karl Soehnlein at the DeLessio Cafe on Market Street, where we bump into each other these days. We know each other from the dark, awful deadly days of ACT UP/New York's glory days. I flapped my jaw about political stuff and Karl mentioned a new book he has coming out soon, but he said nothing about getting marr-, oops, I was about to say married, but that is the wrong word.

Today, over the breakfast table, my partner Mike and I shared the news from the paper edition of the New York Times, including the big write up on Karl's affirmation with his partner, as the Gray Lady described their getting hitched:

Kevin Patrick Clarke and Karl Manfred Soehnlein affirmed their partnership Saturday night at the Lodge at the Regency Center in San Francisco. The commitment ceremony was led by the Rev. Trismegista Taylor, a minister affiliated with the Chaplaincy Institute for Arts and Interfaith Ministries in Berkeley, Calif.

Whatever it is they did on Saturday night, it sure sounds New Age-y, and I wish the newly affirmed all the best. ;-)

Mr. Clarke, 41, (left) is a performer and member of both the Art Street Theater and the Chris Black/Potrzebie Dance Project. He is also a freelance graphic design consultant, working mostly with nonprofit arts groups. He graduated from Cornell. ...

Mr. Soehnlein, 43, [right] a novelist, is the author of “The World of Normal Boys” (Kensington, 2000) and “You Can Say You Knew Me When” (Kensington, 2005). He teaches in the Master of Fine Arts writing program at the University of San Francisco. He graduated from Ithaca College and received a master’s in creative writing from San Francisco State University. ...

How did the two happy homos meet each other?

The couple met 10 years ago when they were living around the corner from each other in the Mission district of San Francisco.

Their first encounter was at a cafe. Mr. Clarke said he attempted to start a conversation, but admitted, “My opening gambit was a miserable failure.”

Mr. Soehnlein said that Mr. Clarke “asked if my name was Darren, “so I assumed he thought I was someone else.”

About a week later Mr. Clarke spotted Mr. Soehnlein at a neighborhood laundry.

“I caught him alone, folding a yellow T-shirt,” Mr. Clarke said. “He flashed me a let’s-try-that-again grin.”

I know that grin well from ACT UP meetings at the NYC gay community center and know how it and Karl can motivate men. But what mighty force brought them together?

They were both involved with others at the time but over the next nine months they ran into each other in the neighborhood and gradually became friends. They discovered that they both had artistic sensibilities and had gone to college in the same town. It was a bicycle accident that made them realize they were right for each other.

“Karl’s apartment was above my favorite coffee shop,” Mr. Clarke said. “Early on I used to plan my morning caffeine run to coincide with his departure for work. One morning I spotted him on his bicycle, looking somewhat dazed, traveling toward his home, not toward his work. Calling out to him, I learned he had just had a bike accident.” ...

Bad biking or a lousy bus driver made them into a couple? Is this out of a gay urban romance, or what? Let's find out how they progressed in their romancing:

“He was not only dazed, he was banged up,” he said. “I helped him get home, sat him down and got out the peroxide. I made him an ice pack for his head but not before I scolded him for riding without a helmet.”

Later that day, Mr. Clarke was back in his apartment when the doorbell rang.

“I looked out my window,” he said, “and there was Karl, a shiny new gold helmet he had just purchased in one hand and a fist full of daffodils in the other.”

Mr. Soehnlein said the flowers were actually paperwhites.

“Anyway, he wears a helmet now,” Mr. Clarke said.

I'm putting my inner Thelma Ritter aside, and not making a wisecrack, because I find it touching that Karl took care of not only being sweet to his future honey, but also bought a damn helmet for protection.

Best of luck, boys. And Karl, wear that helmet. Bikers in this town are more dangerous than car drivers.