the scene. How well I remember the newsreel shot of her being interviewed, on her return from Denmark. She was wearing a mink coat and spoke so naturally feminine I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I read everything the newspapers and magazines said about her case. As Virginia so wisely realized a long time ago, this was the beginning of my scrapbook days--later to be augmented by every thing I found about Coccinelle, Bambi, Charlotte McCleod, etc.

As time went on, I continuously analyzed my feel- ings about women and their natural attractiveness and was able to finally decide that- while I didn't know what I might have become through my love for cross- dressing--I had certainly not become a homosexual. In fact, due perhaps to an over compensation on my part, I came very close to serious extra-marital involve- ment in several instances. But, eventually, everything balanced out nicely.

Then, like many another TV, I went through an- other period, a dismal one, wherein I called myself by every name, and destroyed every vestige of femininity I owned. (This can get to be damned expensive and I don't do it anymore) I felt I was free and "normal" again with no wardrobe to tempt me.

a little more than a year.

This lasted only

Due to the extreme masculinity of my fellow work- ers, it was considered de rigeur" after a retirement dinner or stag party to visit the various strip-tease night clubs that used to abound in the suburbs of Chic- ago. And, of course, there were the usual cajoling, and sometimes very attractive, B" girls to frolic with.

One girl in particular, a "Bobbie Sinclair", I found very interesting. She was very attractive, slim, beautiful hair and lovely legs. She knew me only as "Van".

One evening, I happened to mention her name to a bartender in another night club and received quite a shock when he informed me that Bobbie was a man-- a professional female impersonator! Needless to say-- I saw Bobbie that same night and found out it was true! At this time she was the featured strip-teaser at her

23.