Truman Capote on JFK as Peniculus

In one of the classical Latin comedies, Manaechmi, the ancient Roman writer, Plautus, had a character named Peniculus. That ulus at the end is a diminutive in Latin, so the name was a comic commentary on the fellow's somewhat tiny personal reproductive equipment.

Truman Capote

If American Presidents were historically referenced as Roman Emperors or medieval kings, as Rush Limbaugh refers to the Great Ronald Reagan as Ronaldus Magnus, Truman Capote practically referred to John F. Kennedy as Iohannes Peniculus.

In the supposedly definitive biography (Capote: A Biography, by Gerald Clarke, Simon & Schuster,1988) on the very gay and very self promotional 50s and 60s novelist, old Tru is quoted at length discussing the size (or lack thereof) of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy and little brother Teddy Kennedy's male appendages.

From page 271 in Capote's own words:

"(Jackie) was hurt because (JFK) was banging all these other broads. She never said that, but I knew about it rather vaguely.

What I don't understand is why everybody said the Kennedys were so sexy. I know a lot about cocks...I've seen an awful lot of them. And if you put all the Kennedys together, you wouldn't have one good one.

I used to see Jack when I was staying with Loel and Gloria Guinness in Palm Beach. It had a little guest cottage with its own private beach. And he would come down so he could swim in the nude.

He had absolutely nuthin'! Bobby was the same way. I don't know how he had all those children. As for Teddy, forget it!"

And can you possibly get that from a better authority on the subject than Truman Capote? Like he said, "he's seen an awful lot of them."

Here's Truman Capote, in one of his rare, more or less, lucid appearances, discussing Sex, Love and Friendship as interviewed by David Frost in 1969:

Al Stewart: Time Passages -- Happy Birthday to Me (And to all of us -- Each and Every One)

I didn't care to write this last week, because it was my birthday.

In recent years that has become a day of contemplation -- and confusion.

Birthdays are days of great fun when you're a little kid.

Your mom invites all your friends over -- gives you ice cream and cake -- and your mom and dad give you a great new gift.

Then you get a tad older and your mom says -- it's your birthday -- so you get to tell us whatever you want to have for dinner.

I would always ask for steak and a baked potato and a salad with thousand island dressing (OK I had rather pedestrian tastes as a teenager.)

When I became a college boy, I would ask for a steak and french fries and a salad with thousand island dressing and red onions. (A marginal culinary improvement.)

And then birthdays begin to blur.
They began to take on eminently less importance.

I remember my 30th birthday when a Southern girl -- who had the hots for me -- called me up with about 3 of her girlfriends on the conference call -- and they were hooting and hollering about how I had just turned the big 3-0.

And I quite distinctly remember my 32nd birthday, quite fondly, when a bunch of the girls from my co-ed softball team came over to my office and insisted on taking me out for lunch to a very nice restaurant on the Senate side of the U.S. Capitol.

I was the former superstar of our team, who had become the eminence grise of the team and who played 1st base, batted fifth and managed these younger kids into winning the Congressional League Southern States Tournament.

I was so happy that these girls appreciated what I had done. One of them, a die-hard German-American conservative from Idaho, wanted to marry me. I put her off, because I didn't think she was gorgeous enough for me.

I was an idiot.

So now birthdays are a time for reflection -- sometimes melancholy -- sometimes uplifting.

On this birthday, It has occurred to me that I have lived to an older age than the following people -- who I used to view as scary older guys:

--- I have outlived John Lennon
--- I have outlived James Dean
--- I have outlived President John F. Kennedy
--- I have outlived "John-John" John F. Kennedy Jr. (who was born in the same year as I was)
--- I have outlived Elvis

WOW!

But, while in previous years this would have been a cause for some modicum of depression, it is not this year.

Did you know that Ray Kroc of Northfield, IL did not start his first McDonald's restaurant, which was in Des Plaines, IL, until he was 56?

Did you know that W. Clement Stone, of the North Side of Chicago, did not start the Combined Insurance Company of North America, until he was in his 60s? (And he did it during the Great Depression.)

So while Al Stewart (see above video clip) only had two great hits in his life, he made millions, became a very nice and quite modest husband and father.

It occurs to me that we all may have had one or two hits in the past -- but we certainly still have a few more -- and perhaps bigger -- hits left in us.

Happy Birthday to us all!!!

"Now I'm not the kind to live in the past
The years run too short
And the days too fast."