Wednesday, July 13, 2016

"REVLON'S GHOST"...

He was a shadow from the New York club scene in the late 1980's and 1990's that fled Manhattan amongst outrageous rumours and nefarious scandals in the winter of 1999... but not before a short stint in Greenland (where Mr Revlon was last sighted), after finishing his studies in Taxidermy and about to begin a career in preserving rare arctic animals in the town of Nuuk (Godthåb).


Revlon was a mystery to me, a highly intellectual, kind spirited and philosophical soul who somehow ended up diving head first into the often soul-devouring and tragic world of the Manhattan club scene.  We worked together at the Cafe-Carousel where we became fast friends.  I often joked with him about his desperation to get into the city from Jersey.  Some of my typical comments would be that he either swam the Hudson or built a life raft out of pier pilings to get to the other side.  We had a lot of fun and many laughs working together amongst a cranky crew of mostly elderly waitresses. It didn't take long for Revlon to socialize and start hitting the rampant night life that existed back then. I was happy for him but very surprised to discover that he was soon running with a group of club kids, despite the fact that he was an unusually kind-hearted and seemingly reserved spirit, but he had a deep, dark side that was well hidden... for the time being at least.
We worked well together and had a blast on those late night shifts alone as a duo at the cafe.  We even developed our own way of speaking to each other with exaggerated Jersey City accents glazed with upper crust outbursts and antidotes.  We would also speak our language with an almost sing-song type of cantor always dropping the "R"s in our words, in a very trans-atlantic style of lingo.

A few months went by and Revlon moved from Journal Square to a share in Brooklyn and then finally to a small basement studio not far from the Hudson that he had struggled to cross once and for all.  He acquired the studio after a career move into the club scene that he was already a fixture in.  Mr Revlon became a renowned "lighting wizard" who also specialized in "nocturnal-decor".  Despite all of this he remained the same kind and warm soul that I had met when he was still a little wet from that first Hudson crossing.  He was becoming a little more secretive though, causing me to rename him the "Deadly Nightshade", partly in " honor" of his new nocturnal entourage.

Revlon's view of the past.  On a frigid winter day a look across the Hudson towards New Jersey.

More time went by as Revlon got deeper and deeper into the often dangerous world of New York City's club scene.  He continued to work part time at the Carousel and I'm sure he had no way of knowing that the scene that he was entrenched in would one day be the reason for him leaving New York City forever.  I never made it to any of the infamous venues that Revlon worked, despite getting on the guest list every night thanks to him.  I was also a nocturnal creature but far more secretive and much more into quiet, intimate scandalous affairs as opposed to Revlon's huge glittering and highly promoted spectacles.  Revlon himself remained an enigma and very closed mouth about his over the top night-life.
   I did not fit in with his new crowd... nor did I want to.  He was soon associating with the kind of characters that could throw shade in a padlocked, window-less basement in the middle of a moonless winter night.  The boy from Journal Square was soon spinning out of control.  Revlon would leave the Carousel ducking out of the back door with an extra large Styrofoam container filled with ice and Burgundy wine,  Vantage menthol lights and head off for parts unknown.  This is when I started to feel him detaching from everyone around him.
I would often swing by his basement flat at all hours and scratch on the window.  We would have drinks, talk and go for walks.  It was after three trips by his nest that I noticed a weird stillness to his place.  It wasn't that he just didn't respond to visitors, it was the feeling that he was not there anymore.  It turned out that Revlon had indeed moved out in a hurry after witnessing a series of horrific events in the club scene.  He had fallen into a situation where he was "involved" without really being involved in some frightening going-ons.
The college boy with admirable medical and scientific knowledge was now on the lam. Rumours flew but were also very hush-hush as no one wanted to be a part of whatever had transpired.  I would mention his name to  former acquaintances who would only give me a startled look and just walk away.
You have to understand that I was very fond of him and felt a kindredness that was rare in the city at that time.  Everyone else was on their own cosmic trip, their own fantasy Island.  Being around Revlon was like co-starring in the classic film "Slaves of New York" meets "Diner"... everything could and did happen.  I remember now his expertise on the dance floor and his love of free style classics like "I'm Hooked on You" and "Full Circle".  He could turn it out anywhere, even on the sidewalk.  Yet, there was a very quiet, dark and private side to him that he never showed to another soul.  We had many connections despite the fact that he was a city boy and I was a hayseed from the mountains. We had similar tragic family lives and missing Fathers.  This was all being left in the dust now as Revlon was definitely being driven to drastic measures and being driven out of New York City by dangerous characters.
The last message that I left on his answering machine was a series of x- rated nursery rhymes (I was famous for them),   but for the first time in our personal history, there were no typical dry, witty replies from my friend  Mr R.  He then seemed to cut everyone from his past off with the precision of a surgical knife.  He was now just a phantom, an elusive shadow, a ghost.
I heard sometime later that he landed deep in the heart of Texas for awhile, working in the medical field while getting his certificate in Taxidermy.
I then heard nothing for years until an acquaintance told me that Revlon was in town for a day before taking off to Greenland to work as a government taxidermist who would preserve the wildlife of the tundra like Musk Oxen, Puffins and Weasels, way up there above the Arctic circle.  Revlon did set foot in Nuuk only to vanish into thin air never to be seen again.  The only thing more mysterious than his disappearance in Greenland are the real reasons why he felt compelled to flee New York and then the United States.  One thing for sure is that no one is talking... especially not Revlon's Ghost.


Revlon disappeared Winter of 1999 only to resurface in 2003 before vanishing forever... Last seen... Nuuk, Greenland
Copyright @ 2016 by Fritz Von Ludwigslust.  All Rights Reserved.


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