Hiatus

Well, after much thought and consideration, I have decided that I am going to take a hiatus from this blog in order to take some time to decide whether to continue in this direction or move into another. Part of me feels that I have exhausted the overall subject of the blog, or at least my interest in dissecting it to its innermost depths at this time. In addition, there are several other aspects of my life that are currently requiring more of my attention, thus, leaving me with less time to write here. I want to thank all of you who have taken the time to visit, read and leave comments. It has been an experience. I hope you have taken something valuable from this as well. If I do not return here, you will see me again soon, perhaps with a new subject and new direction. I wish you all the best.

.....goodbye for now, see you again soon!

-lostlinus.

The Past Running Into the Present

The 4th of July is one of those days (in Lexington, anyway) in which gay people seem to come out of the woodwork for a little celebration. People you haven't seen in years come out for the parade and an afternoon cocktail at the downtown bar in droves. One minute you're speaking to an old friend, and then you quickly turn around to see another as a hug comes your way along with another cocktail from you old friend working behind the counter. The event is almost famous amongst the gays of Lexington and widely known as one of he two must-attend events of the year (along with the decadent costumes and tinge of mischief of Halloween night), with even out-of-towners coming back for the festivities.

That being said, I must say that this past month marked my first time in attendance on the birthday of our nation, and I found it to be a little less than the most exciting day of my year. As I've relayed in previous entries, I had a wonderful time walking along with the parade and enjoying the company of some of my dearest friends. After those festivities, I headed indoors for a respite form the heat. I converged with the usual acquaintances near the top of the stairs sipping the usual vodka and cranberry. As I stood commentating on the crowd feeding up and down the stairs with my usual partner in crime best friend, I noticed the back of a gentleman that looked quite familiar. I wasn't 100% sure as he was somewhat muddled in the crowd and wore rather large black sunglasses that clouded the view of his face, but it looked like a gentleman I had been involved with many years before and had subsequently moved away to a far distant state. My heart skipped a beat or two as I moved to get a better angle and a close look. Yes, indeed it was him! I quickly considered the notion of going and speaking to hi. I imagined a big, boisterous hug and shout of glee, but quickly the possibility of him not recognizing me or remembering crept into my brain. I did look completely different than I did all those years ago. Oh, and some of the naive choices I made back then! I quickly nixed that idea. Then I struggled to think of what we would have to talk about or even have in common anymore, and how possibly awkward the exchange might be.

By the time I'd wrestled through all that in my brain, he had disappeared into the crowd, but then I began to notice others around me that I had once had some sort of social or romantic involvement with. Suddenly one was on the dance floor ahead of me, swaying his arms to the beat of the DJ above. Another was down at the other end of the bar engrossed in conversation. They were everywhere. I was trapped! What would if he came up to me? Then a list of things I had done or said to these people came rushing through my consciousness, embarrassing moments of vulnerability, cruelty, or shame. Or all three. Suddenly I was claustrophobic. I found it hard to keep my breath. Think of all those bridges I had burned, those people I had alienated, whether purposefully or incidentally through my actions. I couldn't take anymore!....


After an anxious drive home and a much needed nap that afternoon, it occurred to me that perhaps our pasts never really leave us. Always, it is there in the background, it makes up who we are: each lesson, each event, each romantic disaster. No matter how clean a break we attempt to make or how completely we burn those bridges, that emotional stamp is always there like a shadow, forever. I suppose I already knew this, or perhaps I had chosen to forget. How quickly that knowledge comes back when faced with so many demons at once.

Quote of the Week #7

I need someone to love me,

darling I know you can,

don't you put yourself above me,

you just love me like a man.

Diana Krall from -Love Me Like A Man

Dissed

I was reading through a magazine last night, when I came upon a blurb of random facts and interesting information. Nothing terribly unusual there, at least not until I scanned down about 3/4 of the page to see a website listed there: whywasidissed.com. hmmmm. Let's break that down: Why-was-I-Dissed? Interesting enough. I read on below the address where it was explained that at this particular website, you can have an ex interviewed by the site to discover why he or she broke up with you, and apparently, it's all free!

Of course, my immediate reaction was to go to the site and investigate further into the workings of this apparent miracle-working internet apparatus. Surely it couldn't possibly be that easy! Surely it wasn't possible to avoid all the questioning, self-doubt, puzzlement, and heartache over being dumped and to just get directly down to the bottom of the issue to find out why!

If only I had known about this sooner, I thought as my fingers moved along the mouse to click on the web address. Without a lot of pomp and circumstance, the site laid it out right there in front of me clearly and easily enough. By answering a few simple questions about yourself and providing an e-mail address of the person you want to question, you can be on your way to knowing the truth. There are even forums for the 'dissed' to relay their stories and support each other in their grief. And if you don't get the answers you are looking for or need extra support, you an even consult the advice of their 'dating doctor.'

All so easy, all so available. My fingers were right there ready to put a name in.......and then I stopped. What was I doing? Did I really want to know why someone didn't think enough of me to tell me directly in the first place? Did I really want to know the truth?

Suddenly there were two sides to the coin. At this point in my life, any such inquiry would only be reopening old wounds that I worked hard to heal. And yet, there is still a part of me that wants to ask old lovers what exactly went wrong so as to learn from those mistakes and avoid them in the future. Perhaps the truth is more painful that its worth, though, or clouded by misperceptions. It's impossible to know.

Then I have to beg the question: if I were sent such an inquiry, what exactly would I say went wrong? Why did I diss some of those that I did? On that side of the coin, I don't know that I would want to revisit some of those mistakes!

On one part of the description for the site, it states that everyone deserves respect, and I would have to agree that truth is part of that respect. While I do believe I would be honest if asked, I don't know that I could trust what was said by some of those that let me go. So, still, there would be questions, doubt, and uncertainty. Perhaps it is better just to let it all go than to question and agonize over the endless possibilities. Easier said than done, I know, but still the ideal. Then again, we don't always get what we seek.

So for now, I'm closing the web-page on this one. Don't think I won't go back and visit, though, if and when the next time I am 'dissed' comes along. Only time will tell if I'll put that name in that box and hit the button to 'start investigation.'

Marching Down Main Street

I did something a little bit out of my character this past holiday weekend. Rarely would I take an opportunity that would so openly pronounce myself as gay in front of thousands of people; but this past Friday, I did just that.

I met a couple of my friends downtown on the 4th for the holiday celebrations, at which point I was asked whether or not I wanted to walk in the parade with the fairness alliance. Never being afraid to try something new, I said that that sounded alright and waited in line with the hundred or so other parade entries for the festivities to start. I don't think I really knew what I was agreeing to until we started to round the bend towards the beginning of the long line of parade observers on both sides of the street. Then it began to dawn on me how exposed I was suddenly making myself. My palms began to sweat a little and I began looking around with a bit of trepidation. Children were licking pink and yellow popsicles, young men and women held their dogs on leashes, people were waving. All eyes were on us as the speakers from the float blared out the song We Are Family on a continuous loop. My heart leapt for just a second and I nearly had a moment of panic.

I kept moving, though, as the parade progressed, slowly losing my fear and going with the flow of things. "It's too late, now," I thought as moved along. The farther along we got, the more at ease I felt, and it seemed that we got more cheers and applause than boos and dirty looks. Only once did I look to my right to see a young man with his fist held up in a thumb's down pose. Only this once did I see an overt display of disapproval. While there were several in the crowd who simply preferred not to look or stared on to the next parade entry as we passed, only this one man felt it necessary to be so blatant. In a town in the middle of the Midwest, I was surprised and pleased to see at least a tolerance if not a full blown acceptance of what we were there for. For that matter, I surprised myself in allowing myself to participate in such an event so publicly and openly. There were several points along the parade route where people from the crowd actually broached the sidewalk viewing line and actually came to join in the march; and each time, they were accepted with the grateful applause of those of us already in the march.

By the end of the parade, I was a bit overwhelmed with a sense of actually having accomplished something, even if it was only the act of moving one foot in front of the other in the middle of the street. What I was more proud of, though, was the many who took the steps to join us on the route in front of all those around them and those who cheered for us and waved with approval. Just one small step towards further acceptance and a more integrated city full of great people.

Lexington Pride In Video

Pride In Video

Here are a few scenes from the recent pride festival in Lexington.

Happy 4th Of July

Just a quick word today to wish everyone a happy holiday. If the rain holds off, I will be going downtown to watch the big parade this afternoon for the first time. Perhaps I will wear swimming shorts in case it does rain. In any case, I hope the day finds everyone well and that you get to wave a sparkler or two into the night air this evening in a little bit of celebration.

Happy 4th of July

Quote of the Week #6

You won't believe just how good it can get

We'll make a lover out of you yet

-Jakob Dylan from How good it can get

Greetings From Unexpected Places

I had left the pride festival on Saturday to go to dinner with several of my friends, when something rather unusual happened. It was obvious where we had been as several of us had the rainbow t-shirts on that stated that exactly, so it could hardly have been expected that any of us would be anything but gay. We were back in the real world of Kentucky, out of the fantasy land of total acceptance, and we got a stare or two from some of the patrons. As we were a rather large group, we had some downtime in the lobby until a table of the appropriate size was ready. It was just us and one older couple who were perusing the menu for their selections before being seated.

We were all talking, having a jovial conversation, hardly even noticing, when the older gentleman very cordially asked one of us if we had had an enjoyable time downtown and how everything went. I was taken aback! There was no pretense or assumption or anything derogatory whatsoever about the question or the interest he showed in our answer. He was simply genuinely interested and wanted to wish us well. Right here in front of us, an older couple, probably in their sixties, with a subtle message of acceptance, right in the middle of central Kentucky. My heart beamed for a moment, and we all thanked him sincerely back for his interest and for asking as his hand held buzzer went off to indicate that his table was ready. I couldn't help but smile. Now, if only everyone could be like that.

Win 'em over one person at a time. One American, one human, one individual person at a time.

First Pride

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As you may or may not know, Lexington held it's first gay pride festival this past weekend to a surprisingly large crowd of over a thousand people. Many had their doubts that such an event would ever grace the streets of main street without a torrent of backlash or that it would be so well attended by the likes of so many in the area that are rarely apt to appear at or participate in community events such as this. Drag Queens danced and performed right on the old courthouse steps to the delight of all that watched. Artwork from local artists stood up for silent auction. Old friends greeted each other with hugs and warm wishes over afternoon cocktails. Gifts and literature and acceptance abounded; and all the while I didn't have even the slightest inkling of fear or embarrassment about who I was, where I was at, who I was with, or what any of that meant to anybody else. At least for a moment in the heart of central Kentucky, it was ok to be gay, and that's saying something.

It would seem that in this very conservative, mid-western part of our world, we have made a little progress in the area of acceptance. Not once did I see anyone on the outskirts jeering or voicing any disapproval. I spent most of the day out in the beautiful sun that graced the park instead of the torrential rain that had been forecast for the bulk of the day. Perhaps someone was looking out for us. Nothing was going to stop us today. Politicians gave speeches, children ate hot dogs and drank sodas, men and women everywhere sported shirts with rainbows across the front and bracelets proclaiming, we are family. I even saw several booths sell out completely of the souvenirs of the day. Everywhere, it seemed, all was good, it was a great day for a little pride.

Thank you Lexington, for a wonderful afternoon.

The first annual Lexington pride festival was held at Cheapside Park in Lexington, Kentucky on June 28, 2008.

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Happy Anniversary

I have been waiting for it to come for about a month now, and today I nearly let it go and forgot completely that today is the one year anniversary of this very blog. It began on a warm day last June when I stumbled upon the template that allowed me to create this blog and begin the type-key journey that has brought me to yet another warm June day, one of the hottest so far this year, one partly filled with sunshine and a thunderstorm or two. Funny, that seems to be how the past year has gone, a mix of deep emotional storms and bright happy days.

I had my doubts as to whether I was going to make to this milestone and actually stick with it for an entire year or longer, but it seems to have crept up on me faster than I had thought. What strikes me even more is how different a place I am in this year as compared to where I was just 365 days ago. I was in a place where I was focused on what I had lost or was losing (mainly significant others) rather than what I had in front of me or what I was gaining. There have been a number of relationships (platonic and otherwise) that have grown so much this past year that I can't imagine how I ever made it without them before. While I do forget sometimes, I have been blessed with a myriad of good people around me, and that network of support seems to have truly solidified itself this past year to a point that I am truly comfortable simply being myself.

It's been a rocky year of ups and downs, drama, betrayal, laughter, and fun. Almost like one big giant soap opera. I guess that's what most of us get, a soap opera starring ourselves that only really ends when we die, if then. Every time I complained of being bored, something was always there to take that away in a second, often to the point that I begged for the boredom back. But I guess that is no different that any other year in my life or anyone else's for that matter. Everything just seemed to have been a little more exaggerated and extreme and in a greater state of flux this past year or so. I don't imagine the next year will be any less roller-coasterish, but I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

To the year that was 26 June 2007 to 26 June 2008.

Let's hope the next one is just as memorable.

Happy Anniversary Modern Gay Romance.

Quote of the Week #5

Life is hard, but we cling to it all the same.

-Philip Pullman

Bright Yellow Rain

I had a dream last night, or more of a vision in a half-conscious state. The world was black, or deep blue, the same as the night sky. All was dark, no stars, no moon, nothing. And form the sky came a bright yellow rain, like paint down out of nowhere, covering the rooftops, flowing over gutter edge, filling the cracks in the sidewalk. Drips of thick, deeply bright yellow almost cartoonish in their curves and drops and brightness as if it were all out of a graphic novel, pouring over the infinite, abandoned blackness. On and on it went, this contrast, the bright rain and the dark world, never mixing, just one on top of, next to, and around the other.

Such is the state of my mind these days, a paradox of improbable possibilities and contradictions that don't seem to be able to resolve themselves. Emotionally and socially exhausted after a long stretch of events and happenings these past couple of years, I am at a loss as to where to go from here. Part of me wants to just disappear for a while, take a sabbatical to the other side of the country or the other side of the world after throwing my cell phone into the deepest lake I can find. Part of me feels the deepest need to create something, to inject this state of confusion into a paint brush and throw it onto a canvas or dip my hands into a ball of clay and contort it to no end. Part of me wants to start over completely and leave everything behind, and part of me wants simply to get through the next day with some semblance of sanity.

It's funny how the state of mind can alter so dramatically. Really, nothing has changed in my life physically, and no one has left my little circle of a world for me to mourn over. Nothing new has appeared to disrupt my state of being; and yet everything about my emotionally state seems to have shifted so far from where it was before that I don't see a way of getting back. Perhaps it is simply the introverted part of my personality finally reappearing after a very long hiatus, draining me of all of my energy and forcing me to withdraw and refuel for the next adventure. The only problem with that is that I cannot for the life of me see what the next adventure is or even get a semblance of an idea of what direction it will lead me. Perhaps this is what happens to people who don't have children and will most likely never have children. There comes a point where you wonder what exactly the point of it all is. If there is no one to pass the torch on to, no legacy or next generation and no prospect of one, then you are pretty much the end of the line. There is no more. It becomes a world about you and you alone, a selfish world, and surely that is not all that life is supposed to be about.

Perhaps that is the challenge, to find whatever it is I can do to pass on what is me to those around me and those to come, even if they aren't necessarily 'mine.' Perhaps it is my challenge in this life to find a greater purpose and make my own existence worth more that what it appears on the surface. I just wish there was some clue as to what that purpose is supposed to be. I just wish there was some way to figure out where the bright yellow rain is coming from in order to get it to pour over this abysmally dark world.

Passion Vs Sanity

Time and time again I've heard the age old complaint, "we just don't have sex anymore," or "he never seems to want it," and generally this is coming from couples who have been together a while, have established their relationship, and would be considered doing well in those relationships. On the flip side, there seems to be a growing number of men I know who are in the midst of having steamy passionate sex, but in volatile, quick-ending relationships that tax the emotional heart and leave them reeling for something more stable. It seems almost a paradox, as if we must make a choice between stable and sane, or passionate and volatile.

The same has happened to me over and over again in the past. I've had relationships that have waned after a while, physically, and the relationships have seemed to dissipate as if once we were comfortable with each other we had had enough. No more hunt and chase excitement. I've had relationships in which the sex was so passionate and immediate it was hard to hold back, only to be wrought with uncertainty and instability outside the bedroom. Either he's great in bed, but is an asshole and jerk; or he's friendly and nice as can be but doesn't light your fire.

Let's look at the pros and cons:

Passion:

• Great sex (obviously)
• Romance? What's that?
• Quick Fizzle, easy out
• Constant anxiety (is he really into me or am I just a play toy?)
• Passion = fights and heated argument outside the bedroom
• May not have to spring for dinner, just head straight for the bed
• When you're not in bed, he's off with his friends or after another 'piece of tail'
• Once you're naked and over with it, there's nothing more to talk about.
• Someone always ends up feeling jipped in the end
• The relationship is often on and off again, and each time you swear you won't take him back, but you do anyway.

Sanity:

• Stability (you know he'll never cheat)
• He always remember the flowers on Valentine's Day
• Harder to leave (you know you'll break his heart)
• Money-the dinner's, the flowers, the gifts, $$$$$, goodbye savings
• Companionship (grow old together, already)
• Lackluster sex life, you go to bed horny every night
• Common goals, common interests
• Conversation isn't difficult, you have things to talk about
• You have someone to call you're own, and you know it actually counts

Of course, these are extremes used to illustrate a point, but you get the idea. Only on a rare occasion has there been an in-between for me, a good sex life along with a stable, sane everyday existence with my partner. Those are the relationships that have lasted the longest, that have held love and passion and sanity together at the same time. Perhaps that is the key to finding a lasting partner, finding that mix that satisfies both sides. Until the day that you find the perfect mix, which do you choose?

Quote of the Week #4

Like an apple on a tree

Hiding out behind the leaves

I was difficult to reach

But you picked me!

-A Fine Frenzy, You Picked Me

For Better or Worse

There is something about a wedding that seems to highlight whatever emotional state you happen to be in at that moment in your life. Happily in love? A wedding seems to bring a pang of joy. Just broken up? Suddenly a rush of memories flood back and you seem to be drowning. Single and alone? Jealousy or resentment or deep sadness seem to set in. Whatever the emotion, for that afternoon or evening, it seems to be like an elephant in a small room right in front of you.

I used to loathe weddings, dreaded them with a passion as couples got up and danced, smiled into each others faces, were reminded of the love they had and of which I was severely lacking. It was all about love, a love that I thought that I would never be privileged to enjoy. And even if I did, what were the chances that there would be groups this large that would celebrate the kind of love that I would have? What were the chances that any union I chose would even be legal?

I used to imagine the happy couple off on their honeymoon, enjoying the world, just the two of them, in wedded bliss. Like magic, I imagined, they were suddenly happy forever like a fairy tale. Of course, we all know that's not what really happens, but those were the musings of a child. That was my fantasy. At that time, I don't know that I even thought of it being possible with another man. Perhaps that's why I seemed to fall into a deep depression for several days after the big event. I thought that this was a world that I would never be privy to, a club that I would never be allowed to join.

I know it's not the wedding, though, that really matters. It's not the rings and the cake and the dancing. I know it's really about a commitment, a promise, a combining of two lives; and you don't need anyone there to share that with you except the partner you have chosen. As I grew older, I imagined a more private ceremony, just me and my partner on a beach in Australia and a couple of rings. Quiet, special, just me and him, forever. Times are changing, I know. Californians are preparing to get married by the droves after a recent change in law. It would seem that same sex couples are everywhere. Even still, I wonder if I will ever make it to such a blessed a day, a day about just me and my partner, committing forever.

I recently participated in a family wedding, one that was so packed with events and pictures and ceremony that I hardly had time to register what was happening much less be panged with a rush of emotion. I sat and watched the bride dance in the center of the room. It was her day, her joy to celebrate. All was well. Then my eyes scanned the rest of the room A gentleman I knew to be recently divorced sat to the side a little disturbed. It was obvious he was remembering happier times and longing for the past. A young couple across the way, still newlyweds, danced the fox trot together with big smiles. They were still in the prime of their joy together. A young woman sat alone across from her older aunts, shy and wondering if anyone would dance with her. She was wondering if her day would ever come, if she would ever be the one in the white dress. An older woman sat by herself as her daughter danced, remembering her late husband and longing for one last kiss.

For better or worse, it would seem that everyone had something to remember, something to ponder or agonize over, some emotion to explore or try to suppress. Almost a mental circus in a sense. I was better off than usual this time, although perhaps I should have had a few glasses of wine fewer than I did. It's sometimes hard to simply be happy for another without worrying about your own situation. I did my best, though, and I am truly happy for the couple and wish them all the happiness in the world.

Just Details

I received the latest issue of Details magazine last week (one of the few magazines I have found interest enough in to read cover to cover on a consistent basis), threw it in my bag and had nearly forgotten about it until today. When I was able to catch some down time at work, I noticed it among my paperwork and various other publications and pulled it out for inspection. While the glassed pages are not considered geared towards a homosexual audience, they are rarely afraid to approach the subject. Although, I dare say that any magazine with such a large amount of fashion content and an abundance of fragrance samples can hardly consider itself out of the realm of the homosexual audience. I've never met a straight man who cared THAT much about the cut of his suit or the vastness of his summer shirt wardrobe or the shape of his swimwear and what it said about his personality.

In any case, while the stories don't generally overwhelm the issues contents, this latest one seems to have gone a little further than usual. The first main article I turned my eyes to related the story of the youngest superdelegate for the Democratic party, Jason Rae, a college student from Wisconsin. You have to get well into the article to get to it, but suddenly we learn that the young political mind is, in fact, gay; and, furthermore, was inadvertently outed to his family by joining a LGBT within the Democratic National Committee. I was a little shocked to see these words, expecting nothing more than a story on a young superdelegate, but then glad to see that this fact was not the focus of the article. Rather, it was treated like any other everyday fact and seemed to be included only to benefit a better whole picture of our subject. Just another guy (although an unusually politically ambition one) who just happens to be gay. Well handled in my book.

The other main article, (although perhaps a little more frivolous in it content, including pictures of flesh-color painted bananas and pink hot dogs on pink buns), related the mistaken sexual identity of certain straight men. Penning a new word, the author referred to them as 'strays' (straight men mistaken as gay). The article related the near impossibility of determining sexuality based on likes and dislikes, clothing, demeanor, etc. It would seem that there is no formula that will tell you whether a man is gay or straight. Well, DUH! Although, I must admit that on the graphic in the article listing 18 categories and the most likely choices of a gay vs straight vs stray man, I tended to agree mostly with the gay column on things like drink, music, and sport. I did have to dip several times into the two others to round out my choices, however. If nothing else, the article was good for a little laugh.

I have to applaud Details as it seems to have found a way to balance gay and straight, young and old, featuring articles on a wide variety of subjects. They seem to have found a way to make 'gay' just another possibility, another part of the whole man. It would seem that we are men first; and the rest is just, well, details.

Moment of Change

It's funny how one little thing, one event or one disagreement can change things for so many people. As I wrote about earlier this week, two close friends of mine have come to a disagreement that has, for all intents and purposes, ended in a complete separation of ways. The two have cut ties and decided not to pursue any form of friendship any further. While, I was able to keep myself out of the line of fire for the most part, what I have pondered on since the beginning of this entire affair is how things have suddenly changed in my social circle without me having anything directly to do with it.

Last evening, on the way home from work, I was struck a little baffled as to how to proceed from here. The current situation has made it virtually impossible to organize or attend the social gatherings we had all participated in together over the past several years without making someone in the group uncomfortable or unwilling to attend. Suddenly, where it wasn't even a question before, guest lists and invitees will have to be thoughtfully considered. In fact, some friendships may end up falling to the wayside altogether as collateral damage to the main event. It's anther paradigm shift in my social world.

It always seems to work this way, though. Change may build over time and seem inevitable after the fact; but, nearly always, there seems to be one big event or happening after which there is no turning back, there is no forgetting. Suddenly everything has changed, especially in relationships. My longest relationship turned itself completely over after I cheated on my partner. In another case, the news of a new job and a move away suddenly changed my whole perspective. In a third, I met a new love and suddenly was able to leave a destructive man behind for greener pastures. Almost always there is that moment of change, that moment of revelation that tells you that things are no longer the same.

I am a little anxious to see how everything turns out in the end, how each relationship involved here changes and either grows or falls apart. It seems almost to be a lesson in how one person's actions can affect so many others without even meaning to. But, there is perhaps no sense in worrying over it. One of my dearest friends favorite sayings is, "it'll all come out in the wash." I just hope we all don't end up stuffed in there and left so long we come out all wrinkled and worn and unwearable.

Quote of the Week #3

Love me like a river does, endlessly

-Melody Gardot, from Worrisome Heart

Leave MySpace to the Middle-Schoolers

As the events of the past week have unfolded within my circle of friends, I am reminded why I deleted my MySpace profile last year in search of something a little more worth my time.

While I don't knock the website for its networking opportunities and a way to catch up with old friends and relatives who have moved on or were lost somewhere along the way in our social worlds, there comes a point where MySpace can be more detrimental to a friendship than helpful. If used for honorable purposes, I really don't see anything wrong with the site, or those like it (I don't mean to single out MySpace in and of itself, as there are plenty of sites so similar they are nearly indistinguishable in intent, just consider it a representative for the larger group here); but when you use it to purposely hurt others, when it becomes the instrument of passive-aggressive malice, then perhaps it's time to find another hobby.

A wise woman told me a while back that she found such on-line endeavors to be no more than an exercise in self-importance, posting pictures for the world to see, counting friends lists, comparing yours to his, checking to see where you stand in the friend ranking (1!, 2?, 20?!?!?!?!?), pasting your life onto a lit up screen for anyone who wants to peek into your world. I dare say I am guilty of the last one here on this very blog, but I like to think there is a greater purpose here even if I'm only kidding myself. It was after hearing these words of wisdom that I chose to delete the profile I had and make a few other changes to the way I interacted with those around me, preferring the telephone and a live voice to e-mail (however old-fashioned that may be in 2008), enjoying a visit with a friend in person over dinner or even just a shared television program to posting messages on message boards that all the world can see. Another friend once said, on the subject that, "I actually have to call you to find out what's going on in your world. I can't just look it up on the internet." There's something comforting in that, for whatever reason.

But, of course, those are personal preferences. I know many who enjoy the back and forth of messages and pictures and encouraging words on their personal web profiles. The problem I have with these things is when you start using these messages and internet games to intentionally smite or hurt someone behind their back so publicly instead of addressing a problem head on.

Scenario: A good friend of mine went on-line the other day to discover that another good friend had dropped her from the #4 friend position all the way down to #20. Hmmmm. Suspicion arose. Then a quote arose as the opening line to her page that included some text about how some friends turn out to be enemies rather than true friends. She had already started to neglect inviting her to events that we were generally all invited to in our little circle, but nothing at all had been said as to why. Then begins the phone calls, the long conversations, the speculations, and the eventual discovery that the friend was suspicious of the other of making advances towards her husband. The retaliation: a complete deletion of the accusing friend from her MySpace profile altogether and a quote on her page in response of equal (although perhaps a little worse) malice. Again, a wave of phone calls, accusations, friends caught in the middle feeling like sides have to be picked, but not wanting to pick sides or feeling like they should be in the middle. Still, no direct contact or addressing of the subject from the first friend to the second, the one with the issue, the very person that needs to be addressed regarding the issue instead of involving half a dozen others. Next: a completely innocent third-party to the issue is deleted from the first friends profile for (it would seem) no more reason than not taking her side on the issue. And again, the speculation, the hurt....and so on and so on. If you think your confused, well.... If nothing else, the internet friend-bashing has blown the issue so far out of proportion that it is hard to see where everything started.

Perhaps this is sounding a little familiar to some of you, say sort of like passing notes across the classroom in 7th grade, scorning this one for looking cross-eyes at your 'boyfriend' and not letting her sit with you at lunch. It would seem to be just another way to avoid acting like an adult and actually dealing with the issues at hand with those actually involved. I thought we had evolved a little past that as all of us in our circle are nearing if not already past the age of 30. I guess maybe I was wrong. If you have something to say, just say it. While I don't presume to take a side here with either friend, what I am saying is that perhaps there is a more direct way to handle the situation. Perhaps it is time to leave the MySpace to the middle-schoolers!

Quote of the Week #2

I love you less, now that I know you.

-from The Dress, Blonde Redhead

"What Other People Think of Me is None of My Business"

It would seem that the 4th of July came a little bit early this year in Lexington as Main Street seemed to be flooded with homosexuals of all kinds out for a night on the town this past Thursday. If you've spent any length of time in the city, you know that the only two events that brings them out of the woodwork like that in this town are Halloween and the all-day 4th of July celebration. As it was hardly cold or dark enough to be October, I began to think that maybe the time had unknowingly passed me by by a month or two and I was in for a firework show at sunset.

But wait. That wasn't right. It wasn't quite hot enough. We hadn't even barely passed 80 degrees yet here in the city. There hadn't been an barbecues. The pools were't even open yet. Then I looked down at the ticket in my hand and was quickly reminded why we swarmed to the theatre that evening. That night, for one night only, we were graced with the presence of openly-gay actor Leslie Jordan!

"My Trip Down the Pink Carpet," said the pink perforated piece of paper in my hand. I really didn't know what to expect when I walked in, I just knew I supposed to be here. Fourth row center, I sat and applauded as he came on stage to a crowded theatre (which I was pleased to see) and began. Within seconds we were bowled over in our seats with laughter over stories of childhood crushes, Hollywood hobnobbing, and the adventures of a young gay man from the Midwest. Somewhere in the middle of it, though, suddenly I saw myself in this man standing before me on stage. Suddenly his story was almost too relatable: the shame of high school, the ever conscious effort to be more masculine (and therefore appear straighter) to those around us, the fears of encountering our first drag queen or entering our first gay bar. Suddenly this was all of our stories wrapped up into a short, funny man with gray hair and a sense of style.

On goes his story as he reveals more about himself, a journey through rehab and recovery, the darker side of self-hatred and his work with a suicide hot line for GLBTQ youth. Apparently, it's not all pink carpets and Hollywood parties. Apparently, there is more to us than that. The laughter stops for a moment and we are forced to look at the reality of who we are, what it means to be a gay man in the larger scheme of things, what it means simply to be a MAN.

Ah, yes, the moral of the story, the piece to take home and ponder. No matter how gay or straight, sissy of jock, short or tall we are; whether we lug around hammers and power drills or murses (man purses) and expensive cologne; above all else, we are men, simply MEN and can be proud to live life however we see fit and right.

Perhaps there should have been a fireworks display that night as we left the theatre in the crowd that we were, filling the streets with the diversity that we are. Congrats to Lexington, another step forward. But even if there were no bright lights in the sky that night, forever I will take with me the realization that I don't have to be any certain kind of man, I can be whoever I want to be and can be happy no matter what others think of me. "What other people think of me is none of my business," he said with a smile and a look that screamed liberation from the burden of living up to other's expectations. Freedom is what it is. Freedom to accept oneself openly and without fear!

Leslie Jordan is best known for his reoccurring guest spots on the television program 'Will and Grace' and his performance as a Tammy Wynette-obsessed drag queen in the feature film 'Sordid Lives.' His comedy show 'My Trip Down the Pink Carpet' played at Lexington's Kentucky Theatre on Thursday May 22nd to a delighted audience. Thank you Mr. Jordan!

Recent American Television With Gay Content

Following up to "Enough Already" here's some recent television content with gay subject matter.

Gay Proposal- Brothers and Sisters

More content from recent television.

The Gay Soldier's Kiss - Grey's Anatomy

As a follow-up to "Enough Already," here is a clip from recent television including gay content.

Quote of the Week #1

I have stumbled upon a new recording artist this week, Landon Pigg. I have decided to include a new relevant quote from popular media each week on this blog, and I thought perhaps this would be a good one to start with:

There's a difference between living and livin' in your head...Don't let life pass you by.

-from 'On The Other Side,' Landon Pigg.

Is A New Age Dawning?

Today, for the first time, we have a guest writer, Heather Johnson, who has submitted an article for inclusion on this blog. Always eager to hear the views of others, I am glad to include it. Please enjoy.


As I'm sure you all know, the state of California has just overturned its ban on gay marriage. (For a complete PDF copy of the Supreme Court ruling, click here.) This is a major score for the United States as a whole and not just the gay community. Although states have broken this ground before, California is a powerhouse that should further the cause like nothing before.
Marriage license officials are already prepared for a huge demand in the coming months. In fact, many county clerks have reported that their phones are ringing non-stop for appointments. However, gay couples will have to wait at least 30 days from the date of the ruling. This is common with any high court decision, however, as the counties must receive instructions from the state.

More specifically, all official marriage documents must now be revised to be gender neutral. The words "bride" and "groom" are certainly archaic in today's time and will be removed. As you can imagine, this involves a lot of red tape and bureaucracies are not known for their speediness. However, these are just footnotes on the bigger picture and should not deter anyone from celebrating the decision.

Good news for the world, yes? However, there could be a catch. Although thousands of happy couples are now awaiting their federally legal nuptials in California, hate groups are gathering their forces and are expected to ask the Supreme Court to rehear the case. Absurd that this could be happening in the 21st century, no doubt, but it is still a harsh reality for the gay community… the new ruling may not stick. At the very least, this request from opponents of gay marriage could delay couples from being legal for at least another 90 days.

So, while this is a great moment in modern American history, now is not the time to rest for a breather. It is more important than ever that sane and sensible people from all communities rally together to ensure this decision is permanent. I highly recommend everyone in this great nation to refer to the ACLU's Activism Toolkit and make their voices heard!

Heather Johnson is a regular commentator on the subject of top dating sites. She welcomes your feedback and potential job inquiries at heatherjohnson2323 at gmail dot com.

Changing, Always Changing

If only things could stay the same for a while. If only once you found a comfortable moment in this life, one in which you had a partner you loved, a group of friends you could count on, had the most important people in your life near you and with you that it could stay that way for a while if not forever. It would be like achieving a goal of some kind, building each peace a little at a time, finding a great friend here, building a great relationship there, having a child, getting a dog, growing in a loving family. And once you reached that goal, that life that included everything and everyone you needed and you were happy, then that would be it. You would be there and be happy forever!

Oh, if only it were that simple. If only things really did stay the same. But of course the only thing we can be sure of in this life besides the fact that we will leave it someday, is that it will not stay the same, that the flux and change from day to day will forever be present. Things will never stay the same no matter how hard we try. Even within committed relationships, deep and lasting friendships, and family ties, there is always change. Our roles slowly evolve, our interactions vary and deepen or disappear altogether as we grow apart. We lose people to illness, relocation, disinterest. Always there is something different.

So if it is an unavoidable fact that things will always change, where do we go from there? Well, really, we have to make a choice from there whether to fear the change, dread it, worry about it and let it take over our anxieties; or to embrace the change and accept the challenge of changing with it and savoring the adventure of it. How often do we hold on to a job that we do not enjoy or hold on to a friendship that has gone stale or stay in a bad relationship because we fear the immediate change that it entails? We fear the unknown beyond the point of making that decision to leave and stay because of that fear. Suddenly we have to look at things in a different perspective: how will we find another job? how will we make it alone? what will it be like going out without him at a restaurant or bar? how will we split the furniture? who will get the dog? what would be like not to live here anymore?

So often we doubt ourselves in these situation. We question our ability to cope, or ability to start over in a new job, a new city, a new relationship (or lack of), and don't make the change because of it. It takes a leap of faith to do it. It takes guts. It takes courage. It takes an embracing of the fear we have and a faith in the fact that eventually things will get better no matter how bad it is in the meantime.

The thing about change, after all, is that we don't evolve as people without it. There would be nothing new to learn, nothing more to experience, there would be a finite amount of life to live and it would be over all too soon. Without change, life might just get a little boring.

Enough Already

Ok, so I’ve been adamantly preaching the importance of supporting establishments and events that cater to the gay community. I’m sure you’re tired of hearing me talk about it. I have to admit, I’m a little tired of talking about it. While I do think it is important to support each other, I think there is a limit at which point it becomes too much.

Let me try to explain what I mean. It shouldn’t come to the point that you are going to a bar, buying a movie, or eating at a restaurant just because it is gay owned, gay friendly, etc. If the food is no good, or the movie sucks, or the bar has horrible service, it doesn’t deserve the patronage. The simple fact that something has a gay character in it or waves a rainbow flag outside its door doesn’t automatically translate to something worth experiencing. It should have to earn its reputation just like anything else.

I am not sure quite what has brought this sudden “over it” feeling. I was watching a movie on the Logo channel the other day about a bisexual man and his two lovers, and I couldn’t hardly get through the whole thing I found it so, well frankly, unentertaining. Perhaps it’s the recent over-saturation of gay characters on television that has overloaded my capacity for the subject. I sat down to watch several of my favorite programs a few evenings ago, and 3 out of the 4 of them included a major gay issue in the plot line ranging from gay marriage to gays in the military and on and on. And these were not “gay” programs, but programs that are widely watched by the general public in this country. Not that that’s a bad thing. These are important issues and I am glad to see mainstream media and programming featuring such topics; but at some point it’s like, enough already!

At some point, after you’ve gotten through all the issues and dealt with being who you are, it sort of falls into the background and you realize you’re just one more of the billions of people on this earth. It doesn’t really matter who you sleep with. I just want to be me. I want to like what I like and do what I do because I enjoy those things. They don’t have to be gay friendly. They don’t have to be about gay people. They don’t have to be about sexuality at all.

I guess I can’t expect everyone to have gotten to that point, though. There is still a lot of progress to be made on the issue of acceptance, and it’s good to see gay characters as abundant as any other on television and in the movies. The eventual goal would be that they eventually just become characters, though, not just gay characters; that restaurants just become restaurants, not gay restaurants; that bars just become bars. Eventually, ideally, we’ll all just be mixed in together in a giant pool of humanity and our sexuality, race, religion, or gender won’t make the slightest bit of difference to anyone.

Sensitivity and the Straight Man

I was sitting on an old friend’s back porch this past weekend on a visit back to my hometown smoking cigarettes in the dark and recounting stories of the romance in our lives over the past nine months or so since we had seen each other. It was becoming quickly apparent that she had more to tell than I did as she had, in this time, gotten engaged and subsequently broken that engagement, began and ended several attempts at sustaining a relationship with the father of her children, and was in the process of feeling out yet another potential mate that she had just recently met on the internet. Not that that sort of story is anything new to my ears or of any shock value. If anything, this sort of back-and-forth, in-and-out of romance story has become the norm for most of the people I call friend, including myself. No, that’s not what made this particular conversation stand out in my mind, but rather the way she was describing the actions of the men in her life, the fragility of their emotions, the absurd sensitivity and the irrationality of their behavior. All these things so often traditionally attributed to the supposed emotionally weak-minded female and stamped onto gay men in ridicule. All these things so traditionally scorned by the masculine man suddenly flying out in the open like so much dirty laundry as if to say, well, I guess we aren’t that different after all.

Let’s take straight man number one. This one has apparently moved in and out of the house on at least three different occasions if not more, the last time involving such a balling fit of overwhelming tears, snot, and blubbering nonsense that she could not understand a word he said in his plead to let him stay. Over and over again he would leave the house with words like, ‘I know you don’t love me, so I’ll leave,’ or ‘I know when I’m not wanted,' all of which even the most naïve of people has to question the motives behind. And when he’s calling on the telephone not ten minutes later apologizing and rationalizing his way back to try again, it only confirms the fact that the whole emotional blow-up was no more than an effort to invoke a response from her that would stop him, profess her love for him, make him feel wanted. Nothing more than petty emotional games. If you have to go to those lengths to pull out an ‘I love you,’ from your partner, can you ever really believe that it’s true once it’s said? I know I only got one side of the story, but if even only half of what she was true, it would seem that the idea of the strong, emotionally-devoid straight man has been blown out of the water.

Well, I would probably have just blown that off as an isolated occurrence, but the stories continued. It would seem that the father of her children has repeatedly tried to convince her as of late that they should marry and try to be a family, including bringing a child of his from a previous relationship into the mix to be one big happy family. Over and over at a birthday party the previous day, she recounted how he tried to stroke her arms with affection and attempted to play the loving partner for the benefit of her and all the rest of the guests at the party, all the time telling her how nice it would be to be a family and how they should try to make it work. Of course, there is nothing wrong with that in my book, but when did straight men suddenly become so sensitive to the issue? And on and on she went with stories like this: dates in which the men were more concerned about the monogamy of the relationship than she was, men who actually called to apologize for not spending more time with her, men who fretted over going out with their friends over spending the evening on a date with her. Well into the night she continued, past my bedtime when I had to cordially excuse myself to my car and home for the evening.

Not that I claim to know very much if anything about the world of dating in the straight realm of society but it would seem that everything I thought I knew about how men and women were supposed to behave towards each other has been completely turned upside down. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, though. I have long preached the value of the individual, the value of the unique and nonconforming aspects of the human being. I guess if I wish not to be placed in a cookie-cutter mold myself, then I can’t really put other’s in one either. That would, of course, make me a hypocrite. What it really means to me, though, above all else, in some twisted way, is that we are more alike than we think whether we care to admit it or not: male, female, straight, or gay. Sensitivity seems to have broken the barrier into the realm of the straight American male.

The Power of Family

Last Tuesday found me at our local downtown art movie house of sorts for a one night screening of the film, "For the Bible Tells Me So." Rarely is our city granted such public access to a film with this subject matter, so naturally I jumped on the opportunity to see it.

What was the subject matter? Well, really, more than anything else, it was about families. In fact, one of the families featured in the documentary was from the local area and was in attendance to support the screening of the film along with a surprisingly large audience. Several families, mostly deeply religious families who had been taught for years that homosexuality was wrong, were featured. All of them had one thing in common: a gay son or daughter. Through the progression of the film were learn how these families have dealt with this reality (or not dealt with) and been able to either accept them for who they are or not. It was really amazing to me to see how some of the families were even able to turn the experience into something overwhelmingly positive, even taking to the streets to challenge the church's notions of what is right and wrong in regard to sexuality.

I have been fortunate myself in the fact that my family has not turned its back on me because of who I am; and, although the road has not been without its bumps and potholes, for the most part there has been little turmoil because of my sexuality. If nothing else, this film has reminded me of how important my family is to me and and how important it is in general that we stick together as family, even if it is only the families we have created ourselves with relationships and close friendships. I applaud the local family for having the courage to do the film and to be present for the local screening, and I hope that every family with a gay son or daughter would have the courage to stand by their children no matter what their sexuality may be.

SD in Pictures

Back From Cali

If I am addicted to anything, it is perhaps the thrill of travel and new places. There is something about removing yourself from your everyday existence, from the normalcy that is your immediate environment that, at least to me, seems a necessary part of life from time to time. I travel outside my realm in Lexington probably 3 to 4 times a year, always in search of that new experience, new friend, new environment, or perhaps just the removal of the burden of deadlines and time restraints and the demands of day to day existence.

If you haven't noticed my absence the past week, I won't take it personally. It seems like I have been gone much longer than 8 days, though. It's funny how being somewhere new or starting a new journey can make time seem like it is going so much slower. Only in a routine does time seem to fly by at lightning speed and suddenly years have gone by without our even hardly noticing. That's part of why I like to indulge in the experience several times a year. It's like a 'stop and smell the roses' moment, a moment to catch my breath and look around me to enjoy what's there before it's gone.

This last adventure took me to the great state of California. My first visit to the state outside of the LAX airport brought me to the heart of San Diego, the seaside cliffs and beaches of La Jolla, the downtown streets and Balboa Park, and, yes, even a baseball game where, unfortunately, the home team did not prevail. I think I'll get over it, though. The weather was perfect, the people friendly, the Mexican food divine. So much life crammed into a week that it's hard to comprehend all that I saw; but I can tell you that I enjoyed every minute of it.

While I haven't always done so in the past, I have tried to make a greater and greater effort to support the local gay community and businesses when I travel. If nothing else, it gives a glimpse into how the community lives in other parts of the country and provides a new set of faces (and bodies) to look at. On this trip I had several positive experiences, and if you are in the area, I would recommend checking out the scene. The first night of the trip brought me to a restaurant called "Lip's" where the waiter's (or waitresses if you prefer) were all in drag and doubled as servers as well as performers for the evening. The show they put on was definitely one of the better ones I've seen, extremely creative and quite entertaining. One of the funnier moment of the evening came when a very tall, tattooed queen stripped off her robe to reveal a fat suit complete with sequined nipple tassels while Fergi sang 'my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps, through the speakers. Also of note, the host for the evening sang her own songs (no lip syncing at all) and did a admirable impression of Cher to the audience's great delight. The only thing I didn't like about the evening was that there seemed to be a large number of straight women out for their bachelorette parties, but besides that, the experience was definitely one I would not have wanted to miss.

Later in the week, I had the fortune of dining at a place called 'Hawthorne's' located in the North Park district. The restaurant is in an old theatre that has been renovated and turned into a lovely restaurant and bar with a very nice atmosphere and an incredibly delicious menu. My companion for the evening informed me that the risotto was incredible, and upon tasting it myself, completely agreed. I had two house cocktails that were so good that it only took 2 to enlighten my senses for the evening and of which I have forgotten the name of other that it had something with the word 'pink' in it. The atmosphere was filled with old friends, male couples out on the town, and jovial conversation over colorful concoctions. It was somewhere I felt welcome and excited to be a part of.

There was a refreshingly large number of night spots to choose from that catered to the gay community. I wish I had had time to experience more of them; but, with the time I had available, I was limited in what I could do. Friday evening found me at a place called 'Rich's', which is mainly a dance club with traveling DJs and theme nights throughout the week. The night before I arrived, they had a CD celebration party for the recent Moby release of "Last Night." That is something I would have thoroughly enjoyed had I been in the city for it. For this particular evening, we were graced with a DJ traveling from Los Angeles spinning mellow tribal tunes and working up a fairly good crowd before the evening was over. It was an enjoyable experience all around.

I found as of late, especially in Lexington, that word of events and happening within the gay community is not spread as well as it could be. I think it is important to support as many functions and people as we can in the community. If we don't, then these things may very well stop happening. There won't be any more events to go to, nowhere where we can act as a community and be amongst those like us. That is why I am trying more and more to support the places and people of the gay community when I travel and even when I stay at home. If you know of an event, of something you think is important going on, then I encourage you to spread the word and do your part by simply attending if nothing else. For my part, I hope to continue sharing my experiences in places like San Diego in order to spread the word about what's happening and where to go, what's available that celebrates who we are as people. I encourage you to do the same.

Degrees of Gay

For whatever reason, I am reminded today of the first time I heard about the Kinsey scale of sexual orientation sitting in a psychology class in the 4th floor of the main building of my university. I remember looking at the chart with a little bit of wonderment and confusion at the possibility that, according to Kinsey, very few people are completely straight or completely gay, and that the majority of us fall somewhere in the middle in a realm known as bisexuality.

For those of you who don't know, Kinsey was a professor at the University of Indiana who gathered massive amounts of data and conducted extensive research in the realm of sex and sexuality. The movie of the same name offers a glimpse into the kind of life and the work that he did if you would happen to be so interested. In any case, the scale places people in a range of possible sexualities from 0 to 6 as follows:

0-exclusively heterosexual
1-mostly heterosexual, only incidentally homosexual
2-more than incidentally homosexual
3-equally hetero and homosexual
4.....well, you get the idea going down to
6- exclusively homosexual, with the addition of one last category:
X-asexual.

Well, I feel sorry for the X's (although, in the long run, that might actually be easier on the emotional heart), but what I find most interesting is that there are so many possibilities. It almost seems to make the terms 'straight' and 'gay' out to be extremely limiting and therefore useless in the description of people beyond those falling into the 0 and 6 categories. It almost lends to the argument of abolishing the labeling of people in this way altogether, as it would seem that the majority of us are in fact bisexual to some degree or another. It is almost an argument towards how alike we are versus how different, and, therefore, all lumped into one big clump known as humanity. We are not this or that, we are simply human.

Of course, things are never quite that easy or clear cut; but it does bridge the gap and create a rather large gray area between 'straight' and 'gay.' What it says to me, though, is that it doesn't really matter where you fit on the scale, whether you choose a man or woman to partner yourself with. It's all part of the same spectrum. Although, I must say that I cannot imagine myself with a woman, and I am sure there are many who could not imagine themselves going after a sex different than what they are currently after; but it does leave a tiny pinpoint of wonder in the brain, nonetheless. I have many 'gay' friends who dated women before they finally decided on men, two of them were even engaged to women at one point. I know many 'straight' men and women who have at least thought about experimenting with the idea of a same sex partnership. It would seem that it is only natural if you look to Kinsey. But, then, I guess it is only natural for a human to be just that: a human.

The Forgotten Cookies

I have always had this way of disappearing in a crowd, of going unnoticed, being lost in the social background of life. If my face really that forgettable, not pretty enough to warrant a second glance, not ugly enough to invite a glare or two or even a disgusted grimace? Perhaps my voice is not strong enough to compete with the crowd. Words come out of my mouth but are not heard as if they were never spoken at all. My presence is either forgotten or taken for granted so that I might as well have not even been there. It is a blessing and a curse, really. Sometimes I would rather just be there to observe, to be separate from the reality in front of me. It is easier that way, easier to see people and places for what they really are, easier to stay out of the mess of life. But at the same time it is that separation that leaves me feeling as if I am an outsider, as if I don't belong, sitting on the sidelines just hoping that someone will incite me in, to be a part of that mess of life. But then, I have to remember that sometimes you have to invite yourself.

I suppose it all began early in life for me, this flirting with the edges of social belonging. My very first birthday at school began with anxious excitement. I had the very last birthday in my class before school ended at the end of May. Every other's had been celebrated with cupcakes and candy and a class rendition of the birthday song. My mother had allowed for a rare indulgence in allowing me to take cookies from my favorite local bakery that day. I loved going into the bakery and choosing a temptation from the many eye popping choices behind the glass. They had an old fashioned cash register there, the kind in which dollar and cent amounts popped out of the top on little tabs as the total was calculated and payed. It rang like a bell when our sale was complete. I always ended up choosing chocolate donuts and spice cookies with reddish purple jelly in the center. There were my favorite. we took home loaves of cobblestone bread to my father and ate it with out evening meal and bought caked for special occasions chosen from a huge book of laminated pages with pictures of every cake imaginable splayed across each page.

For my birthday we had gotten an assortment ranging from chocolate chip to oatmeal raisin, sugar and peanut butter, two for each member of my class to choose. I had brought them in in a big, plain white box and set them on the table at the head of out kindergarten classroom and gone about the rest of my kindergarten day. I suppose it never occurred to me to tell the teacher what was int he box or why it was there. I waited all day for her to announce the grand event, to proclaim me king for the day, to sing for me. She never did, though. Recess came, nothing. Afternoon play time, still nothing. I was so confused. My eyes stayed on the white box on the table all afternoon. I wanted her to pick them up, open them, then she would understand! Why hadn't she remembered my big day? Why was she completely ignoring my cookies? As painfully shy a child as I was, I dared not raise my voice in inquisition. Instead, my heart sang deeper and deeper in disappointment. It wasn't until out last bathroom break of the day, each of us waiting in a single file line for everyone to finish, did I break down and begin to sob near the end of the line pathetically.

"They forgot my birthday," I blubbered through the huge wet tears of my 5 year old eyes. I couldn't stop. the teacher's aide came running, consoling, correcting. Quickly we were wisked back to class, cookies were handed out, the singing began just like that and all was alright. As rushed as it was trying to beat the dismissal bell, for that one moment it was ok, I felt celebrated. It was my birthday, and I belonged in the center of it, not lost on the sidelines forgotten. Of course, the next day I was back to being the quiet one, the one lost in the crown, the one easily forgotten; and that is how most of my childhood progressed.

I guess what I should have learned from all this is that sometimes you have to force yourself to be noticed, to be heard, to break out of the background and be acknowledged; but I tend to fall back into this trap every once in a while of feeling left behind and not doing anything about it. It's easier sometimes just to feel sorry for oneself and accept that you don't belong than to make an effort to join the group or speak up for oneself. Of course, there is always that fine line between forcing oneself in and being wanted once you are included. I suppose the real finesse is in knowing when to speak up and when to stay on the sidelines. Then it's just a matter of having the self-confidence enough to know that you made the choice to speak up or not and there is no reason to feel sorry for yourself.

All I Know is That I Should

Every once in a while a song seems to resonate, to speak directly to the soul and to understand what it has been through. I had one of those moments yesterday watching some music vidoes on television. I will let it speak for itself.

'Cause I don't know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should.....

See, I thought love was black and white,
that it was wrong or it was right.

-Missy Higgins from 'Where I Stood.'

The Weakness of Night

Against my better judgement, I agreed to cover an overnight shift this evening for a fellow employee who needed the time off to tend to a family emergency. I don't work these hours very often as they tend to mess with my mind a little. I once worked a three month stretch of night shifts for a gentleman who had suffered a heart attack and was off work to recover. I nearly lost all sense of sanity by the end of it, feeling disconnected from the rest of the world, sort of outside the realm of normalcy. It was as if I had lost these months into the depths of space.

There is something about the wee small hours of the morning that can play on our fears, our weaknesses, our emotions. It can be liberating driving through the abandoned streets of 3 am or walking down the street with only the crickets and the breeze to accompany you. You can do whatever you want and no one will even notice. No one will care. You can laugh out loud at the late night movie or television show, and no one will hear. If you eat a pound of ice cream, no one will be the wiser. It would seem that the world is yours and yours alone.

But then there is that moment when suddenly you feel that you are alone in that world and that sense of isolation kicks in. Perhaps a little paranoia sets in and you begin to fear for what is out there in the dark like being in the middle of a horror film. Exhaustion sets in the your emotions go a little haywire. A sense of loneliness suddenly seems unbearably more pronounced and we get lost in an emotionally altered sense of reality.

It is in these moments that we can become desperate. Our hormones build out of control. The man alone in the bar wanders at the end of the night, seeking out someone, anyone to go home with so that he doesn't have to be alone again. The buildup of a weeks worth of resentment and miscommunication explodes into a fight between lovers in the corner. A woman cries on the steps at the door after being left standing there by her boyfriend. Half the rest leaving the bar at closing, wandering to their taxis in a half-witted stupors after losing all sense of time and public decency.

We are angry, sad, elated, or sexually aroused, but in a heightened, overly-exaggerated state. Either sleep must come or the emotion must be addressed, and if we are not careful, we will do things that we would never do in the light of day. There is a weakness that comes in the night. Desperate for attention, we cling to a one night stand or start an affair. Elated, in celebration we lose ourselves in the beat of the music and dance ourselves into oblivion. Depressed, we contemplate the implications of suicide. Angry, we destroy everything around us. The mind loses its sense of check and balance. Weakness sets in.

Eventually sleep takes over and our bodies rest. The hope is that the new light of the next day doesn't shine to harshly on the events of the previous evening.

Are We Meant to Love Just Once?

As I sit here and contemplate the frequency with which it would seem that we betray our partners for new loves and new sexual encounters, it occurs to me to pose the question as to whether or not we, as human beings are mean to be confined to one person, one sexual experience, one lifetime in the same relationship. Any number of religions and beliefs hold true to the idea of the everlasting covenant of marriage, the idea that sex is reserved for the legally and spiritually bound couple, and the notion that once you've chosen the one there are no others. Til death do us part, right?

So why would it seem that these values, these beliefs have been so drastically ignored by so many what with divorce rates through the roof, extramarital affairs seeming commonplace, couples advertising on the internet as swingers looking for partners, families growing ever larger to include step children, half siblings, etc., etc. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've seen male couples openly listed together on dating websites looking for partners for threesomes or more, or men on there who specifically state that they are partnered but are eagerly looking for no strings sexual partners to augment their physical needs. I don't know what's more disturbing, that these things are there in such abundance, or that they are included so blatantly on the relationship status buttons portion of the questionnaires. I even met a man once who had 2 husbands. All three of them slept together in a very large bed when they were home at the same time. You see, two of them were truck drivers and were often on the road. When apart, they openly allowed other sexual partners as long as there were no secrets and no deceit involved. I found the whole idea rather strange at the time, and still do. I've only ever had enough trouble keeping track of one partner, much less two. I had the boldness enough to ask him if there was every any jealousy or hard feelings between them when any of them strayed from the three. He said no, that they had all agreed at the start of their partnership to not allow such feelings to cloud the relationship, but I have a hard time believing that it is just that simple.

Even yesterday, I was watching the program Big Love on television, a show who follows the lives of a polygamist family in suburban Utah that consists of one husband and three wives. On this particular episode, they were arguing over who how much time was spent with each partner and what activities (including sexual) were participated in with each wife. It seemed that there were a few discrepancies and suddenly no one was happy. At one point the three wives ganged up on the husband, effectively freezing him out of any physical contact and sending him to the basement to sleep on a old sofa. It begs the question as to whether balancing time and attention in a relationship involving so many people is even possible.

But perhaps we are getting a little into the extremes with plural partnerships. What about all those people who divorce or leave their current partners for new loves? What about partners that die and leave us alone to fend for ourselves? More often than not, a new partnership is formed. We eventually fall in love again. There is a more than once-in-a-lifetime chance for love. Some people marry four or five times, or even more leading one to believe there is a boundless capacity for falling in love. certainly people have multiple children and have the capacity to love each one. Our families grow with new nieces and nephews, new in-laws and the like. We accept them and love them. So what exactly is limiting us to that one true love, that once in a lifetime chance for romantic happiness?

Perhaps it is more a question of loyalty, respect, and honor in holding to the vow a person takes when accepting a marriage or life partnership than on the capacity for loving another; holding fast and true to the one we have chosen to share our lives with. I really can't say that there is anything wrong with that. There is almost something noble about such an act. However, it does beg the question: if we are capable of falling in love, loving, and being loved more than once in this life, then are we really meant to love just once?

Whatever the answer is, what is most comforting is to know that if we are left behind, betrayed, or hurt by someone we have loved, there is hope of finding a new love, of starting over and being happy in love again.

Infidelity As Revenge

Getting Back to our theme for the moment on the extracurricular activities of our partners, I have recently been asked whether or not I myself have ever cheated on a partner. The answer to that, I am a little ashamed to admit, is yes. Whatever the reasons anyone else has used for their betrayals, mine were mostly, firstly, in a search to feel desired, and then later (although perhaps subconsciously) in an effort to exact revenge on a partner that I felt had left me emotionally abandoned.

How did it begin? I suppose the internet was my first step into betrayal. After my love life with by 'husband' has started to wain a few years after being together, I began to feel a little less than desirable. He stopped being affectionate, loving. he stopped wanting me sexually. It started with chat rooms like yahoo and the like. I would talk to people, get to know them. They would ask me to meet them, talk dirty to me, arouse my sense of self worth and desirability. I remember marveling at the fact the such a large number of the men on there had partners, talked about waining sex lives, were blatantly and openly going for something 'extra.' For a long time, that's all it was for me, though, talk. I never them or talked to them more than once or twice. I just needed that sense of being wanted. I needed to feel desired.

As things progressed, however, my relationship was not improving and I began to need more physical contact that I was getting. When my partner was out of town or gone for the evening at work, I began to venture out to meet some of these internet people. Not often, mind you, but perhaps once every couple of months or so my flesh would burn with a desire that could not be quenched on my own despite my best efforts. I just had to have some kind of physical contact and my partner was not providing it.

He even accused my once. He had accidentally pulled up a conversation I had had on an IM service and questioned my lengthy and mysterious hours spent staring at the screen not allowing him to see what I was doing. I denied it at the time, eventually admitting only that it was just talk (which it mostly was), tried to explain that it was about feeling desired and needing someone to want me. But he didn't understand, or else didn't want to. Eventually I even tried to bring up the idea of having an open relationship. At that point I was willing to try anything. he was not to keen on the idea. We sort of discussed it, but apparently not well enough, for when I decided to test this arrangement by bringing someone home with me and into the spare bedroom, the response was not exactly one of acceptance.

Everything sort of deteriorated from that point on. The open relationship idea was a complete bust as it seemed only to pull us further apart. It was like trying to put a small band aid on a broken arm and hoping it would heal. Suddenly there were new and more exciting lovers to experience, and the tired old 'you and me' became less and less desirable to both of us.

As sick as it sounds, it became almost a competition between us to see who could lure more people in, who could command a greater prowess, who was more desired. He brought home a young man once from the local college with whom he proceeded to very loudly make scream with pleasure in the next room while I tried to sleep. Instead of leaving or calling a truce, my revenge was to bring one home on my own and to do it right back to him. It was a dark day in my history, and one that I am not proud of. I was spiraling down into a devious and dark world that I didn't belong in.

Eventually it got so bad that I had little choice but to remove myself from the situation. If I hadn't, who knows how far I would have let it go, and the only direction it was going was right down the toilet. Of course, I ended up walking into an even worse situation, but that's a story for another day.

So, in the end, whether it was just a symptom of the many things wrong with our partnership or the beginning of many other problems, my infidelity began the demise of my longest relationship so far. I don't want to say I regret doing it, although I am ashamed that I was capable of it. It was a necessary learning process in my evolution. I would like to think that I am a better person that to use such an act to hurt my partner, but I guess we never really know what we are capable of until we're faced with it head on.

Emperors and Empresses

Last week I had one of those days that seems to be themed. One of those days when everything seems to pour from the same source and to somehow be connected. After a lazy morning and a batch of burnt cookies, I spent the afternoon with the television and a re-airing of the old, gay-loved classic, Funny Girl. One of the classic leading ladies, Barbara Streisand, filled the screen with her presence and the room with song. I am usually not one who loves movies like this or subscribes to the list of Divas supposedly loved by gays everywhere (Liza, Judy, Marlena, Cher, Madonna); but this one is not so bad, and I was in the rare mood for a musical.

And, wouldn't you know it, later that day I was invited by a couple of friends of mine to share an evening of Divas of another kind and another gender. It would seem that every year for the past decade or so, our little town of Lexington has honored those who perform in our bars and nightclubs every week with an awards ceremony not unlike those on television with categories ranging from 'Outstanding Achievement in Hair' and 'Outstanding Achievement in Dance' to 'Outstanding Achievement in Male Impersonation.' If you hadn't guessed it, the awards are mostly for those who perform at the opposite gender of their birth, namely Drag Queens and Transgendered individuals; which, if you've never made it to a gay club in America, is a staple in almost every establishment of any significant size.

Aptly named, my first attendance at the "Falsies" was an enlightening one. It was a night filled with massive amounts of make-up, long, flowing dresses, big hair, dance numbers to songs from all the Divas (to continue my themed day from Barbara to ABBA to Janet) with the proceeds going to local charities, and a decent amount of banter from two of our local newscasters who emceed the show (to my great and pleasant surprise). 'Ladies' thanked their husbands after winning their little gold statuettes, boys did the same. It was a room filled with acceptance more than anything. Families came to support their children, parents, siblings, all right alongside their brothers and sons in full drag and high heels. Several checks were awarded to local charities to support those with AIDS and organizations helping gay causes.

Every year the Imperial Court of Kentucky names one male and one 'female' the title of Emperor and Empress to perform charitable and social duties for the organization through the coming year, and tonight, it seemed they were all out. Crowns and tiaras glittered from the stage as the awards were given out, including one called the 'Michael Thompson Community Service Award,' which is apparently given to a person showing great strides and effort in the area of community service. I found it quite touching to know that the people behind such effort and such selflessness in our community actually do receive some recognition for their work. It sort of makes one want to do more to give back to the community, something we should all strive for, evening if that simply means attending events planned in our communities. One of my companions said to me that we he was glad I had agreed to come along as it would seem that opportunities to participate and attends events like this, especially ones so linked to the GLBT community are becoming rarer and rarer. And if we don't support what's left, soon there may be nothing left to attend at all. Someone has to care and make that effort, or else we are left with nothing, no voice and no community.

So to the Emperors and Empresses and all those behind the scenes, thank you for your efforts. I'll be back next year to see you all again at the 'Falsies.'

The 'Falsies' are an annual event held at the State Theatre in Lexington Kentucky.

The Day Green Became a New Beginning

It is unfortunate that St. Patrick's Day had to occur on a Monday this year and, on top of that, after a long string a very hard days at work at my day job that has left me too tired to properly celebrate with green beer or, really, alcohol of any kind. It is a far cry from last year, when the holiday brought on the most drunken state I have experienced since college (or maybe ever). Besides the vomiting in a friend's yard at the end of the night; clogging the sink of the bathroom at the bar we were at with a deadly mixture of chocolate fondue, cranberry juice, and vodka (I couldn't help that the toilet was occupied); and the terrible headache the next day over eggs and fried potatoes at Bob Evans, the night turned out to be rather momentous.

The night began at a cocktail party, a pre-drinking event that saw the coming and going of several people that I did not know and have yet to see since, spare 3 or 4 of them. Following, we were off to a little bar downtown where we dined on watermelon martinis and a delicious mixture of fruit, marshmallows, bread, and brownies, all decadently dipped in chocolate fondue. It was my first dip into the social world of gay men and their friends, at least in Lexington. It was something I had never really even thought about. Before this, I had chosen my mate and spend my time with him and the domestic world of keeping house and home. Never did it even occur to me that there was an active nightlife, and social network of friends and acquaintances that I could actively participate in and enjoy. Of course, I had been to bars before, been out drinking more times than I cared to count; but, never before had I been in the 'in crowd' been part of what was making the night exciting. Always before it had been more of a spectator sport. I had always been the one in the corner not quite feeling like I belonged. With a stick of strawberries and chocolate in one hand and a martini in the other, I was suddenly in the middle of it all. Of course, I exaggerate in attributing this entire revelation to one night of socializing. It had occurred over several months, this change, but I did suddenly seem to become aware of it right then.

I think perhaps the food curved my blood alcohol content at that point, and that caused my biggest mistake of the evening. When we made our way down to the local primary gay establishment, we walked in, and it seemed that I knew at least fifty percent of the people in the bar. Every turn I made was a friendly hello or hug, or big gay greeting. I was a little disturbed by this fact. Perhaps I had been spending too much time here. Nonetheless, I made my up the stairs to the bar next to the dance floor where I knew one of the bartenders. I ordered a vodka and cranberry and a straight shot of vodka to boost my buzz. The problem with that was that the shot he gave me was probably more like three shots in one. I wasn't paying close enough attention to it, though, and drank the whole thing in one gulp.......Never again.

It would seem that after I threw up the first time in the downstairs bathroom, I was spotted by one of my best girlfriends. Apparently I knew more people in the bar than I thought. And at this point, I wasn't out to but a handful of my straight friends. Suddenly I was outed and my two worlds were colliding. It didn't really occur to me to think of those implications at that moment, I was in a daze and drunkenly happy; but suddenly there was no more hiding. By the end of the night, every one of my friends in the city had been told through telephone calls and text messages. After that, everything is a blur. I was found upstairs in a stupor by my friends who had promised not to leave me there, and we were off to warm beds and swirling ceilings.

Never again have I allowed myself to be that inebriated, it is not something I am in the habit of; but I wouldn't take back that night for anything. It was the first night in months, maybe even years, that I was able to let go and enjoy what was going on around me. I was coming out of deep dark depression and a mess of bad relationships and mistakes. I was trying desperately to find a way to make a mark for myself and to be myself without withholding anything from my friends. Somehow, that night, it was done for me, and my friendships have grown ever deeper since then. I am more comfortable with myself and with enjoying the company of all my friends, gay and straight. I am more myself, and that night was perhaps an important beginning to realizing that. I wouldn't take it back for anything.

Of course, a year later, I am sitting at home writing about last year. Not a drop of alcohol this St. Patrick's Day. I wouldn't trade that, either, though. I've made it pretty far in a much better direction this past year. For that, I am eternally grateful.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!!!