Modern Gay Romance, or the Lack Thereof

Hiatus

2008-08-01T22:36:00.003-04:00

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

2008-07-20T21:47:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-17T21:40:00.002-04:00

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

2008-07-13T13:41:00.004-04:00

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

2008-07-08T18:16:00.005-04:00

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

2008-07-07T01:35:00.001-04:00

Pride In Video

2008-07-07T01:33:00.001-04:00

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

Happy 4th Of July

2008-07-04T12:19:00.002-04:00

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

2008-07-03T00:58:00.002-04:00

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

2008-07-02T04:18:00.002-04:00

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

2008-07-01T00:51:00.002-04:00

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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

2008-06-26T15:19:00.004-04:00

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

2008-06-22T02:51:00.003-04:00

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

-Philip Pullman

Bright Yellow Rain

2008-06-21T13:59:00.004-04:00

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

2008-06-18T10:39:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-14T14:12:00.000-04:00

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

2008-06-13T13:21:00.002-04:00

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

2008-06-11T20:30:00.003-04:00

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

2008-06-06T14:56:00.001-04:00

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

2008-06-05T15:24:00.002-04:00

Love me like a river does, endlessly

-Melody Gardot, from Worrisome Heart

Leave MySpace to the Middle-Schoolers

2008-06-02T00:37:00.010-04:00

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

2008-05-29T22:06:00.001-04:00

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"

2008-05-27T11:16:00.003-04:00

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

2008-05-22T14:09:00.001-04:00

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

Gay Proposal- Brothers and Sisters

2008-05-22T14:07:00.001-04:00

The Gay Soldier's Kiss - Grey's Anatomy

2008-05-22T14:06:00.001-04:00

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

Quote of the Week #1

2008-05-22T13:43:00.003-04:00

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?

2008-05-20T03:20:00.001-04:00

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

2008-05-19T01:38:00.004-04:00

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

2008-05-11T14:24:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-07T01:18:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-05T20:01:00.002-04:00

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

2008-05-01T12:18:00.003-04:00

Back From Cali

2008-04-28T17:22:00.006-04:00

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

2008-04-16T14:10:00.003-04:00

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

2008-04-12T19:25:00.003-04:00

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

2008-04-08T21:41:00.003-04:00

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

2008-04-04T21:33:00.002-04:00

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?

2008-04-01T21:50:00.002-04:00

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

2008-03-26T13:45:00.004-04:00

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

2008-03-25T00:34:00.004-04:00

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

2008-03-17T22:12:00.005-04:00

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!!!!

Know For Sure Before Accusing

2008-03-16T19:55:00.004-04:00

If there is one thing to remember when accusing a partner of infidelity it is that you should be sure of the action before doing so. If you go into it with only a hunch and it turns out not to be true, you've needlessly opened a whole vault of emotions and planted a seed of mistrust that cannot be taken back. Instantly you have told your partner that you believe him to be a liar or engaged in deceit towards you that could ultimately destroy your relationship. And if he believes that you do not trust him, it can breed resentment and a sense of being tested and trapped with a fear of always having to look over his shoulder for who is keeping tabs on him.

Have something to show him, something to prove that he is lying is he starts to deny the fact, if he starts to get defensive; but be prepared for the consequences if it turns out to be true. Once you start digging, there is no going back. If he is getting his sausage seasoned by another's spice, then have your game plan ready before you go after him. Know what you're going to do: put up with it, give him a second change, or move on and find a better man. If you are not prepared and know what you are going to do, you run the risk of being walked all over. There is no time to be indecisive in a situation involving cheating, if you are wishy-washy, if you let him believe that you're going to put up with it, you may end up putting up with over and over again until your heart is shattered into a million pieces.

In the end, when it's all said and done, infidelity is really a matter of trust. If he has broken your trust and gone behind your back with another, then you have decide whether you can ever really trust him again. And, frankly, from my own experience, I truly believe that there cannot be a mature relationship without an absolute level of trust between the two of you. When you are accusing someone of cheating, you are accusing them of breaking that trust; and if you break that fundamental foundation of the relationship, it's going to be hard to get it back.

Before you call him on his frequent unexplained disappearances, before you ask him who he's been spending his evenings with, where he goes on his own in the afternoons or while you're at work, just be sure that you it's true and be prepared for what's to come because of it. If you didn't sign up for an open relationship, then don't put up with it, but don't go accusing without a solid base to back you up.

Cheating as a Rule?

2008-03-13T18:27:00.002-04:00

Every once in a while there is a scene in a television show or movie or a paragraph in a book that brings on a sense of revelation or deep reflection. Something that forces one to look at things a bit differently than before. The moment stays with us, reminds us, serves as a reference point in our own lives as our own story lines progress.

Several years ago, I recall sitting in front of the television watching Sarah Jessica Parker sipping coffee across the table from a handsome man of 30 or so in an outdoor cafe in New York discussing something called the 'international gay rules." It would seem that, according to this particular gentleman, there were a few different rules regarding fidelity for those who play for the other team. It would seem that extracurricular activities are accepted in gay relationships as long as a few simple rules are followed, mainly that nothing progress beyond oral sex and that no repeat visits occur.

The response to this disclosure on the program was to question why he felt that he could not be satisfied by just one partner, to which he responded with something to the effect of not holding very high expectations for his relationships. The way the conversation played out, it would seem that every gay man knew of these rules, that they were universal within the community. As a gay man myself (albeit quite young at the time), I was a little disturbed by the fact that I had never heard of such a set of rules before. I had been raised to believe that when you chose a partner you were each other's only and completely, there were no other's involved, especially in the bedroom. It had never occurred to me that the gender of your partner might alter those rules. This was a revelation to my naive mind, a lesson to be learned. Not everyone believed in sexual monogamy, in fact, apparently there was a whole sect that rejected it completely as a general rule.

As I reflect on this idea now, years after seeing those few minutes of screenplay acted out on my television screen, it bothers me to think that we, as gay men, do not expect more from our relationships. Why shouldn't our partners be enough for us, fully satisfying both emotionally and sexually. Why would we sell ourselves short in what we demand of our partners by allowing such sexual deviations. I'm not saying that open-relationships cannot work, that they are wrong. That is a completely separate issue. They have riddled our histories throughout time and no doubt will continue to do so. My question here is why would we completely dismiss the idea of a monogamous, true two person partnership, however old-fashioned it may be, simply because of the fact that we are partnered as two men? Do we have so little faith in ourselves that we don't even accept the possibility?

we will be continuing a series on the subject of infedility for the next few weeks...

Why Do We Cheat?

2008-03-12T18:38:00.002-04:00

I have always wondered why people cheat on their partners. What exactly goes through a person's mind when he or she makes that conscious decision to stray from their lover, to inflict that pain and strain on their primary relationship by bringing another soul into the defined pair. If a relationship has been defined and there is an understanding of monogamy and loyalty, then what leads us to deviate from that framework?

Is it boredom? Does the monotony of monogamy lead us to search out and explore something different from our everyday?

Is it the thrill of the chase, the conquest of a new sexual seduction that has been long ago lost in the one we have already captured?

Is it a search for a deeper spiritual connection, a search for the missing pieces in our lives that our partner has failed to satisfy?

Perhaps it is the thrill of doing something forbidden, something that churns the heart into overdrive and makes our palms sweat with the fear of getting caught.

Is it revenge? A way to hurt our partners for some wrong they have done to us?

Perhaps the grass is simply greener on the other side: a better lover, a better body, a bigger orgasm?

Whatever the reason, or combination of reasons, what I wonder about is how it goes from being a thought in the brain, a fantasy, to the reality of flesh and secrecy. Certainly extra partners don't just appear out of nowhere demanding sex. There has to be some sort of initiation and follow-thru on the part of the one cheating. And how do we justify doing it after the fact, how do we continue to do it over and over again?

to be continued...

The Only Real Snow in Lexington This Winter

2008-03-09T16:57:00.009-04:00

Here are some photographs from our big snow this weekend (although I would hardly call 6 inches a big snow). Still, it made for an interesting Sunday afternoon in the forest.

Rufus Wainwright - A Sample

2008-03-04T16:22:00.001-05:00

I thought I would share a song from the openly gay singer/songwriter Rufus Wainwright. I saw this song performed live at a concert. He said at the time that he felt priveledged to live in a country that would allow him to sing such a song, that allowed him to speak his mind in this way.

The Suffering of the Single Man?

2008-03-03T15:31:00.000-05:00

My mother is in the habit of sending me envelopes stuffed with coupons she thinks I might need along with articles she has clipped from the newspaper that she thinks are suitable reading. I opened up my latest package this morning to find an article entitled Marriage isn't always the best way to go, Single Men Fight for Empowerment. I suppose that she is trying to tell me that it is alright to be on my own; but surely, I don't need to hear it from her local newspaper.

The article describes how people are waiting longer and longer these days to get married, how men are finding it less advantageous to pair up as financial and emotional independence are more the order of the day. It describes how single women have been applauded as of late with shows like Sex in the City and goes on to some of the troubles associated with being single late in life at work: the stigma and questions involved when a man of a certain age is without a wife. I hate to see anyone suffer discrimination for the life choices he's made, but I have a hard time feeling sorry for a straight man in a situation that countless gay men have suffered scrutiny for for years, even decades. Why is a sudden surge in the number of straight men taking flack for being single a cause for exposing the issue and a call of empowerment and acceptance? How many gay men have dealt with being single, or worse, having to appear to be single to the outside world while hiding their relationships from co-workers and the public eye over the past century? I certainly don't recall any call for empowerment in any of those instances.

The article cites several problems at work including "speculation about a single man's sexual preferences and, concomitantly, a difficulty in making friends with heterosexual co-workers because colleagues might question his motives." Sound oddly familiar to me. I guess when the rumors of homosexuality are false, then it becomes a problem to address.

I guess my problem here is that this stigma associated with being single has been around for years and people have needlessly suffered for their life choices due to the close-mindedness and assumptions of those around them. Whether we choose to marry or be single, our worth should be based on our individual actions and achievements. Perhaps we are a little late in trying to dispel the wrong in the assumptions we make about single people, especially single men.

The Affect of Ugly on the Libido

2008-02-29T12:11:00.004-05:00

I walk through an amusement park on a hot summer afternoon, through scantily clad teenagers, small children and their parents. The air is filled with a mixture of sweat, hot dogs, and the stench of damp socks, soaked by the waves of salty water from the log ride around the corner. All around me there are children with sticky pink fingers and dirt covered shorts; teenagers boys with soaken t-shirts, giant basketball shoes and oversized denim shorts that could pass as dresses they reach so close to the ground; young girls barely covered by tiny tank tops and skimpy shorts that reveal pimpled buttocks, tattoos, bruises and bad skin; old men in sandals, plaid shorts and recycled work shirts carrying their 4 year-olds and looking like they just got out of bed; middle-aged queens with their fanny packs over their hips and a look of determination as they head for the nearest roller-coaster in their much too short shorts and designer active-wear sneakers and socks; sweaty, uncomfortable Amish families in neat dresses and white shirts that are nearly sweated through; 14 year-old, acne-covered, boys and girls with mouths full of braces in polo shirts and black shorts carrying around little brooms and upright dust pans cleaning up after the messy patrons who have missed the garbage can; 300 pound men with giant bratwursts in their hands sitting next to their pudgy children eating ice cream out of little cups. Next door at the water park there are men with deeply tan arms and the whitest chests I have ever seen; mothers tending to their children with sun-screen, wearing wrap around bathing-suit bottoms in an attempt to hid their cellulite legs but being entirely unsuccessful at it; tattooed skinny gentlemen with long, greasy hair riding slowly down the lazy river on round blue floats in their cut-off jean shorts; Men with mounds of flesh and bulges hanging over their red and blue swimming shorts heading off the mounds of water coming at them in the wave pool. Misshapen feet, beer bellies, flabby upper arms, bad tattoos, and misplaced tan lines abound.

There are times that I am disgusted by other human beings. These are times that thoughts of sex make my stomach churn and my desire for it is beyond nonexistent. These are times when I look at the people around me and wonder how in the hell these people could possibly be found attractive by any other human being on this earth, how they find mates, how they find it acceptable to walk around in public is such states of disarray and complete unattractiveness. It amazes me the way people dress in public, the ways they allow themselves to be seen out in the world. If it's not the girls walking around in their pajamas alongside their mother in the same outfits only 6 sizes larger holding back bulges with thin layers of fleece, it's the men in desperate need of a bath walking around in the liquor store in week old clothes and shabby beards. If it's not shirtless children in the department store along side their disheveled mothers and half-stoned fathers, it's the thin blond woman in her boyfriends shirt demanding her pain pills and the drug-store counter with the deep, raspy voice of a life-long smoker.

I may be cruel, but this feeling doesn't hit me all the time. There are times in my life that I am so driven by my libido than anything and everything looks attractive, just not today. Today I'd be much better off staying inside alone and tending to some matter that does not involve dealing with the outside world.

Wisdom?

2008-02-27T15:37:00.007-05:00

It would seem that the older I get and the more I learn about the world, about people, the less I seem to have a grasp on these things. It would seem a paradox, but the more I learn, the less I seem to really know. Less and less makes sense to me. Perhaps wisdom is nothing more than accepting the fact that there are no answers to most of life's questions, or else we simply have to make up our own and go with them. Perhaps the only truth we can really know is our own, which may not translate to any other soul on this earth or elsewhere.

I have been lost in a world of movies, television, written word, and stories these past days, trying to escape the unsettling realizations that the landscape of my family is about to change again in profound ways. It is at these junctures, these turning points, that we see people for who they really are. We discover how those around us respond to crisis, how they deal with what is put on their plates. Whether it be divorce, a major death, a tragic accident, a severe illness, etc., what it tends to do is give us a new perspective, a new way at looking at our existence, our relationships, our place in the larger scheme of things.

As I watch the screen and read the words on the pages of my books, lost in the stories of others, it occurs to me to remember the differences in the way people live, the differences in what we find acceptable, the differences in our overall life experiences that can make us aliens to each other, unable to grasp how another sees the world because we do not know their journey, the path they have taken to get to us. We do not know their past, their upbringings, what has been taught and ingrained in them by society, by religion, by schooling, by experience. We do not know of what they are ignorant, what they have been denied experiencing in their lives that has prevented the perspective needed to understand us, to understand others around them.

There is a gap, a space between me and you, between all of us. At some level there is a lack of understanding that may not be able to be overcome, at least not without some effort. Our challenge is to make that effort, to learn about other people, other cultures, other ways of thinking that can enrich us, give us a deeper understanding of those around us. The more I learn, the more I know that there is never just one way of doing things, never just one way to live. Change is the only constant in this world, but it would seem to be an accelerated process in my own life at the moment, or at least in the lives of those close to me. I am just hoping for the wisdom enough to figure out how to fit into yet another altered state of existence in this world.

You will excuse me if I am feeling a little more philisophical today than usual. There are many thoughts running through my head, many questions, and they are only just beginning to take shape into a form I can express to you. Bare with me.

Happy Valentine's Day Or Not

2008-02-14T14:32:00.010-05:00

I suppose that a Valentine's Day entry is a prerequsite for a blog with the word 'romance' in it, but I can't say that it has always been my favorite holiday. It's a little ironic how a holiday designed to celebrate love could bring on such a mixed bag of emotions ranging from pure joy to complete and utter heartache and resentment.

As children, we handed out Valentine's to each other in class. I always feared I would turn out like Charlie Brown and end up the only person without a paper heart on his desk. One year, I even hand made Valentine's for the entire class instead of buying the cut-out kind from a box. I drew Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Lucy Van Pelt with friendly Valentine's messages to each member of my class. Of course, I was mostly made fun of; but that was nothing new. Par for the course for the 'quiet, artistic' oddball in the class.

February 13th of this year would have been my 6th anniversary, had I still been with my previous partner. It reminds me of happier times, the beginning of love, the start of romance. But, quickly, those thoughts are replaced with the reality of what that partnership became, devoid of any inkling of something to celebrate with flowers and heart-shaped boxes of candy. Not that I ever recieved those things. Most of the time, I sort of celebrated on my own. He hardly remembered the event without two or three or ten reminders. I might have received a card once in the first year or two now that I think about it. I suppose I should be thankful for that.

I once broke up with a man on the actual day, February 14th. He had brought me a grocery sack full of candy and hopes for a holiday snuggled up together in bed. Instead, he got my complete inconsideration and two eyes full of tears. I regret the way I handled the situation. We weren't meant for each other in the end, but I could have shown more compassion. It saddens me to know I was once capable of such selfishness.

Like any sentimental holiday, Valentine's Days seems only to heighten or spotlight the emotions were are already feeling about love, relationships, romance. It throws our past back in our faces, or reinforces a smitten beginning, or deepens our sadness and lonliness. We are reminded of lost love, or cling to our current sweerhearts, or long for a love that has yet to appear. There are so many aspects of love, so many emotions involved, that, by design, a holiday meant to celebrate it is going to have to deal with each and every one of those aspects in doing so.

Whether you and your sweetheart share a kiss and a loving embrace on this day of flowers and chocolate or you spend the evening on a date with the sofa and a bottle of Jack Daniels or simply boycott the holiday all together, take comfort in the fact that it's only one day out of the 366 we have this year. Tomorrow we can go back to the rest of our problems.

Happy Valentine's Day (or not!)

Placing Blame

2008-02-11T15:21:00.000-05:00

If you will excuse me today, I thought perhaps a little clarification/housekeeping was in order.

Every action I have taken, every reaction I have had, every life choice I have made has been my own, and I have had to deal with every emotional and physical consequence of those choices. This is a realization I have had to come to terms with slowly over the last few years. I am responsible for my own actions and cannot place the blame for them on anyone else but myself.

It has come to my attention that I may have portrayed a sense of blame for some of my actions and the nature of my behavior on society in general instead of taking responsibility myself. This has never been my intention. If I have done so in any way shape or form in the spance of writing this blog, I do apologize. If I write about society or the gay community in general, it is only to portray my own perspective on whatever subject is being discussed. I write it the way I see it. If I am wrong, than I open any subject up to discussion. Generalities are just that, they are not meant to represent each and every member of society or the gay community. No generality can do that.

I have made many choices in my life. Every relationship I have had that has ended has been partly my fault. I accept that. I have yet to discuss any of the details of my longest partnership (it has been something I have not been ready to talk about here yet), but I realize after much soul searching that I am as much to blame for its demise (if not moreso) than he was. I accept that I have treated people with complete disrespect and have been utterly ugly in my demeanor at times when it comes to love, sex, and relationships. And I accept that some of things I have chosen to participate in through my years (however completely idiotic) have not been because I felt pressure from society to do so or because I felt society pushed me into a corner, but because I chose to participate.

I accept that I am not a perfect person. I have made many, many, countless mistakes in my day that I cannot erase. But I will never place the blame for those mistakes on someone else or on the ambiguous entity known as society. Whether or not society accepts me, oppresses me, or celebrates me, I still have to live with myself and my own choices.

Speed Dating With Graham Norton

2008-02-08T23:47:00.001-05:00

I needed something funny to lighten my evening. I thought I would share. Graham Norton is a talk show host in England (he had a brief stint with a show in the United States), and is one of my favorite gay celebrities.

Beat the S*@# Out of Me?

2008-02-08T23:02:00.000-05:00

There are days that I leave my day job feeling like I need a new profession, or at least a change in venue. There are days that I feel so drained and useless that I don't even know where to begin to rebuild my confidence in myself so as to return the next day and start all over. Today is one of those days.

Writing this blog is obviously not my primary profession. Sometimes I do wish I could stay here, though, in the rather solitary world of fingers on keyboard letters and lit up computer screens. At least then I would be spared the rath of public scrutiny. My day job requires me to work with the public on a daily basis, and sometimes it is more than I can handle. Today I had a couple come in that did not much care for the way I handled their situation, and they let me know it as clearly as threatening to beat the shit out of me if they ever saw me out in the world. The adrenaline rushes through me at time like that, sometimes to the point of making me shake with a mixture of fear and anger. My stomach churns. I span through a desire to fight back and cuss and threaten the way they have followed by a fear that I have, in fact, done something terribly wrong and that I am the one at fault. My mind fills with doubt, and I wonder why I even do what I do. I want to retreat and hide. I want to walk out and quit. I want to call for a police escort to walk me to my car. But then part of me wants him to be outside waiting to beat the shit out of me so that I can take one big uppercut to his face and knock the bastard of a man to the ground for even thinking about threatening me. Part of me wants to beat the shit out of HIM.

It makes me sick to think about it. I do sometimes have this problem that when someone comes in to talk to me and has an attitude, I often have a hard time preventing myself from having an attitude right back. Such was the case this evening. The worst thing about these situations is that they generally occur at the end of my work day, leaving me to muddle over the details over and over in my head all night as it was one of the last things that occured in my day. I doubt myself, I doubt my professionalism (I wonder sometimes if I, in fact, have acted the way the nurse did in my previous entry. But, then, that was really about discrimination more than attitude.), and I doubt my ability to do my job.

It used to be much worse. When something like this would happen, I would agonize over it for days. It begins to roll of the back after a while as a neccessary part of working with the public, but the agony never completely goes away. I suppose you really cannot please everyone, and I just have to remember that there is always going to be someone who doesn't agree with the way I operate or who simply does like my attitude. But does it really have to go so far as threatening my physical being?

Unprofessional

2008-02-05T13:16:00.001-05:00

Early this morning (way earlier than I would have preferred), I escorted one of my closest friends to an outpatient surgery center so that he could get an upper GI endoscopy done. In layman's terms, they were checking out his digestive tract, from his stomach up. The procedure required general anesthesia; and, thus, our fearless patient was unable to drive himself home. Thus, the reason for my presence.

I don't know exactly what the staff throught of my presence, but most of them treated us with due diligence and a helpful attitude. The doctor performing the procedure even came out after it was over to inform me of what had happened and how everything went. Not that I really wanted or needed the information; but it was nice to be informed and to feel a little bit involved.

I didn't really think anything of it until a short, red-haired nurse in her mid-thirties called me into recovery to be with my friend as he began to wake up. She called the 'family of" to recovery. I didn't hear her the first time, but when she loudly and irritatingly shouted his name again, I followed her through the marked door. Dismissingly she told me where the bathroom was, where to find a beverage, etc, and escorted me to the recovery booth I needed to be in. I sit down and wait. She quickly goes over some post-procedural guidelines to follow and has me sign a form that says I have been informed of said information. She then returns to the nurses station. I notice that the paper I have just signed has been signed on a line marked 'patient or significant other.' She returns shortly later and asks if my friend is able to walk out, which he is not even close to being so, realizes he is not and returns to her chitchatting and bantering with the other nurses. In the midst of it I begin to hear a conversation among them about a man of 31 that one of them knew that had never been married. They laughed about the fact that his grandmother excused it to "waiting for the right one," instead of just acknowledging the fact that he was gay. Our nurse returns two or three times later, each time pushing a little more sternly for us to get our things together to get out of the facility and on home.

I begin to think about it, and I realize that this nurse in fact has pegged us as a couple (which is the farthest thing from the truth) and has decided that she is tired of dealing with us and wants us out of this facility as quickly as possible. And on top of that, our presence has spawned a conversation on the subject of gay people among the 5 or 6 nurses idling nonchalantly at the central work station. I grow increasingly irritated at this point and try to coax my friend into a slightly more conscious state so that he can dress. He tries for his pants, but is slow at it. He keeps asking me the same questions over and over because he cannot remember asking me and cannot remember my answers as he is still dragged down by the anesthesia. Eventually he is able to get his clothes back on and sit up in the bed. The nurse returns after a rather long hiatus and opens the curtain that has been pulled shut for some time. She gives me a look like, 'thank God I can finally get rid of you two," and pulls out his IV, replacing it with cotton and surgical tape.

At that point, I was very tired of being there and go to pull the car around to then escort my friend away from there and on to his home to rest. I am glad he was too groggy to grasp the situation as it was highly unprofessional if nothing else. The entire rest of the experience was cordial and very informative, but that last nurse left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Although she didn't flat out say anything derogative or offensive, her demeanor and her attitude spoke for itself. Whenever I think the world is progressing, it seems that something always proves me wrong.

Let's Talk When We Talk

2008-02-04T18:10:00.000-05:00

I have only sat through the Superbowl and actually watched it maybe once in my years on this earth. Last year I went with a group of friends to one of the local bar/wing joints in town, but I couldn't tell you who played, what the score was, or anything else of that nature. I vaguely recall Prince (or whatever he's calling himself these days) and his phallic guitar at the halftime show, mostly because the entire bar sort of paused for a moment and sang in unison with one of his more popular songs. Not that I am anti-sport minded or anything of that nature (give me a good tennis match, the Olympics, or take me to a baseball game any day). I just happen to find football revolting.

So instead of watching the game last night, I opted for the most anti-Superbowl programming available for the night, namely the L word on Showtime. For those of you not familiar, it is a show about Lesbians (thus, the big L) in Los Angeles. Never in a million years would I have thought that I would find such a program entertaining (after all, I'm the wrong gender to be a Lesbian); but since the beginning of this latest season, I have been hooked, making it a weekly event to watch the program with a couple of my dearest friends. Of course, you have to get passed the lady on lady action (blech!), but once you do, there is definitely some substance there.

L L L L L L L L L

Anyway, the reason I am telling you about this is that there was a line in last night's show that struck me as particularly striking. Two of the main characters in the series are former lovers, one of which has moved onto to another long-term relationship. They remain friends, however; but in the heat of a moment last week, the two reunited in a passionate kiss, leaving confusion abound. For the first half of this week's show, the attached ex fumbles around trying to find some way to either justify what happened, rekindle the love that was once there, or erase it completely from memory, it is hard to tell. She calls the ex on the telephone on the guise of asking for advice on a personal matter, but it is rather obvious that that is only an excuse to make contact with her. The ex indulges her for a while, but later at a party, they face each other again with this thing, this kiss, between them. They fumble around their words for a while, not knowing what to say, when finally the single ex basically cuts it off, says that the kiss was a mistake and that it won't happen again, reconfirming the other ex's love for her new lover and pushing past it, at least for the moment. What struck me about the interaction between the two is when the single ex basically told the other to simply stop making such a big deal about it, to stop trying to analyze the whole situation, and to stop acting like this kiss was something that would bring them back into contact with each other on an increased basis. She said it all in one line: "Let's just talk when we talk."

The reason it struck me so much is that I have been in the situation myself, using anything and everything I could hold on to to keep contact with someone I loved, or thought I loved. Finding excuses to call, trying to over-analyze every little word and interaction, thinking that it required some sort of deep discussion to get to the meaning of it all. It is exacltly like stumbling around like a teenager, not knowing what to do, not knowing how to handle your own emotions. By doing that, however, we create our own world of turmoil and strife. We make our lives difficult and weigh ourselves down with uncertainties and petty games.

If you try to force relationships and interactions or over-analyze the situation, you run the risk of destroying what's already there or killing any possibility of a relationship before it even begins. Sometimes you do simply have to 'talk when you talk' and go with the flow. If something happens, it happens, if not, oh well. The point being, don't make more of something than it is. Sometimes a kiss if just a kiss. Just let it be a kiss and move on. Of course, I doubt our lesbian friends are through with this story line, but I guess I'll just have to keep tuning in to find out.

The L Word Season 5 Love Triangle

2008-02-04T18:04:00.001-05:00

A kiss and confusion abounds

Translation: You Get On My Nerves, Hit the Road Loser

2008-01-31T00:18:00.000-05:00

I was on the phone with one of my cousins earlier today. He is usually involved in a mess of problems, but that's a story for another day. Today he was telling me about the recent breakup of his brother-in-law with his fairly long-time girlfriend.

"What happened, I asked, a little bewildered as it seemed the two were headed for greater things.

"He says he didn't like it when she went out with her friends and got drunk. He's 26, she's only 22. I don't think she's gotten it out of her system, but it's not like he didn't have his party years."

I was not exactly satisfied with that answer. I immediately came back with, "That's nonsense. He just got tired of her and wanted to move on to the next girl, try something new. An excuse like that is just a half-assed way of saying that. If that was the real reason, he would have come up with it a long time ago." Then, of course, I went into my usual rant and rave about the cowardis in not calling a spade a spade, the complete ignorance of excuses like that, etc., etc. You've all heard me say it before.

In my experience, most every break-up line, every softened blow of a rejection is a thinly laced veil for the simple fact that he or she has had enough, that you simply don't butter his bread the way you used to. He's ready to move on to the greener side of the pasture. Of course, I can't deny that there are legitimate reasons to end a relationship, more profound reasons; but, for today let's focus on your everyday, run-of-the-mill boyfriend and/or girlfriend scenario. How many times have we heard these words:

I think we should just be friends.

You haven't one anything wrong, I'm just not ready for a relationship.

I didn't mean for it to happen, but I met someone...

We are in different places in our lives.

I think we should see other people.

It's not you, it's me.

Your damn right it's not me!

Giant Wooden Dildo Anyone?

2008-01-28T00:45:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine (female), recently received a subscription to Playgirl magazine as a Christmas present. After a rather detailed description of its contents by her and another friend of mine, I have decided that perhaps it is not a magazine I would be all that interested in obtaining a subscription to myself. What is reminds me of, though, is my first encounter with gay pornography (well, actually, pornography of any kind) as a child of about 12.

I was innocently playing baseball with my father, brother, and 4 or 5 of the neighbor children at the high school down the street from our home one sunny weekend afternoon. I was in the catcher position, which I was not all that good at as I became distracted easily and had to chase down 4 out of 5 of the balls that passed by the batters bat unhit. On one such baseball rescue mission, I had to run around a set of bleachers that was behind our playing area, where I caught a glimpse of a few magazine pages. Curious, I took a closer look. Before being called back to the game and berated for my turtle pace, I was able to discern that there was in fact a naked man on at least one of its pages.

I was immediately intrigued. I began to miss the ball on purpose so as to have to return to the magazine's place in the grass and investigate further. My father began to get suspicious, however, and I was forced to hold off on my sleuthing until later. I was switched out as catcher later in the game, and when one of the balls flew by the new man for him to retrieve, I saw that he caught a glimpse of it, too. My interest was piqued, but I held off my excitement and extreme curiosity until the game was over.

It was not that I did not know what pornography was. I had heard of Playboy. I had heard of boys finding their father's stashes and flipping through the pages with utter wonder and excitement. I knew such things existed, I just didn't know they had such things with naked men in them.

After we had all walked home with my father, the four oldest boys took refuge in the backyard to discuss what we had seen. Quickly, we decided to return to the scene and find out exactly what was there. Boy, was it worth it. I feigned disgust, following the lead of the other boys as we flipped through page after page of naked men, some having sex with each other, others just sitting there with erections in all their glory. The one I remember most vividly was a picture of a man in a carpenter's workshop with work clothes on. He had just created a giant dildo out of wood and was holding it up for inspection and to awe at its grandeur. It was the size of the entire man himself. I had never seen anything like it.

Like the children we were, we ripped the glossy pages out of their binding and flung them across the field like a big confetti party, an exposed chest here, the seductive eyes of an over-enthusiastic blond there. We laughed and made fun until we'd had enough and ended up on the cool grass on our backsides. We left the field a mess of graphic male images, and vowed never to speak of it again. It was a first step out of childhood and into a messy adulthood.

Goodbye Ennis

2008-01-24T21:37:00.000-05:00

It makes me feel a bit mortal to learn that a man nearly exactly my age has died. It forces the ponderance over the idea that I, too, could die at anytime. In fact, I could be gone tomorrow. There is a moment there in which you stop and wonder about your life, where it is going, what you've accomplished, how you would be remembered if, in fact, you were found in your house or apartment cold and lifeless with a bottle of sleeping pills next to your bed.

Of course, I am referring to the recent death of Heath Ledger, the Australian actor best known in the gay community for his portrayal of Ennis del Mar in the film Brokeback Mountain. I have to give the man credit for taking such a controversial role. If I were a straight man, I doubt that I could be so courageous, so sure of myself. It speaks to a comfort in his own sexuality, an acceptance of himself and of others. It shows a lack of fear and a direction we should all be moving towards in the vein of accepting the differences in all of us. His Oscar nomination in 2006 was greatly deserved.

His death hasn't struck me so much with grief (I can't say that I ever had any personal contact with him or knew anything about his first hand) as it has with a sudden sense of feeling my age. We were born barely a month apart in the year 1979, and I don't know that I could say that I had accomplished all that I wished to in this life if I were to be found dead tomorrow. I can't say that I feel like I have had an impact on this world in a way that has really made a difference. It's almost like a wake-up call telling me to get busy with my life, to get moving on trying to etch out some sort of importance in this world. If Heath Ledger could do all he did before his 30th year, then what have I been waiting for?

Perhaps this is a lesson in quality versus quantity as we look at a life that did not quite reach thirty years and yet was capable of moving (and entertaining) so many people. I first came into contact with Mr. Ledger on the big screen in Monster's Ball in which he played a troubled prison employee, part of a team responsible for death row procedures. He committed suicide in the film, unable to deal with the implications of watching men die for their crimes. From then on, I knew he was one to watch out for. Instead of playing pat roles in insignificant movies, he was playing meaningful ones in moving films from early on in his career. Privately, he seemed to keep his head about him, not appearing as the irreverent bad-boy of his generation like so much of young Hollywood these days.

Thank You Mr. Ledger. I hope that you know your courage is appreciated. We could all take a lesson from you.

Heath Andrew Ledger April 4, 1979- January 22, 2008.

(The LA Times story on Heath Ledger can be found at http://www.latimes.com/news/printedition/asection/la-et-ledger23jan23,1,5320235.story)

Gay Airline

2008-01-22T20:40:00.003-05:00

Gay Commercial

2008-01-22T20:40:00.001-05:00

HYUNDAI - Gay commercial

2008-01-22T20:39:00.003-05:00

Funny Gay Commercial

2008-01-22T20:39:00.001-05:00

bad gay dar

2008-01-22T20:37:00.001-05:00

Rugby in Paris (Gay Commercial)

2008-01-22T20:34:00.001-05:00

I've been inspired to find other commercials catering to a gay audience. Here are some interesting ones.

Gay Levi's?

2008-01-21T13:10:00.000-05:00

I was wondering if anyone else had noticed the gay Levi's jeans commercial that has appeared on television. While I rarely have the patience to sit through any kind of commercial, I just happened to be watching something on the Bravo network, when I noticed a couple of boys in stylish jeans eying each other and smiling rather seductively then walking off together into the night. Of course, I rewound the video and watched it again in it's entirety to discover that it was in fact what I thought it was, a gay Levi's commercial.

Upon further research, it would seem that there are two versions of the ad, one in which a girl appears in the phone booth and walks away with our lead man, and one in which a guy does. It is not overt in it's message, you have to be paying attention to get it as there is no dialogue, but it is quite clear once you do get it. I am a little surprised to see that such an ad has made it on to American television, albeit on a cable network that has not been shy about catering to a gay audience; but I am glad to see that such ads are making it without an overabundance of controversy. Kudos to Levi's and to the network for airing it.

Gay Levi's Ad

2008-01-21T13:06:00.001-05:00

Thirty and Counting

2008-01-17T12:51:00.001-05:00

While I still have a year or two left until the milestone age of thirty, many of my friends have already reached that point. I am a little bit fearful of hitting that mark as it would seem that it creates a bit of insanity, especially in the realm of relationships. It is as if a sudden sense of urgency appears like a loudly ticking clock in the ear that will not go away.

Let's start with case 1. Several years ago, my best friend was a man a few years my elder. We had gone to school together and continued a friendship afterwards thought the beginning of our careers. Much of that time was spent almost like a couple of teenagers, playing video games, watching movies, and drinking, sometimes to extreme excesses. Basically, we found whatever trouble we could find. Never was there a care or worry about finding a lasting relationship on either end (although I was deeply into a long-term relationship myself). But then he turned thirty. A few months before the big day, he started looking for dates a little more seriously. He started frequenting the bars where the women hung out, and started a serious of short relationships one right after the other. There were times that we were stuck at the same house after a long night of drinking, and I would be in the other room (or sometimes even in the same room) where he would proceed to have sex with whichever woman he was with at the time. It's a funny thing to watch a head bobbing up and down underneath a blanket, but it is also rather disgusting. Every week there was a new story, a new romance to talk about. And when he spoke of them, there was an urgency in his tone. He was looking, the green light was on. Then November came, and so did a blond who could drink him under the table (not an easy task by any means). Suddenly there were in love. They lived in different cities, so on weekends he would meet her half way and procure a hotel room for a few days of passion and tequila. When that got tiresome, he took a job closer to her and moved away from the city we were living in. He was enveloped into her. He became almost a completely new person, and before 9 months had passed he was married and disappeared from the world he knew before. All almost entirely in his 30th year of life.

Now, let's move on to case 2. In this scenario, we see another friend with whom I've spent many a night drinking, partying at the bars, chasing boys, etc. All seemed to be good enough, life was good and full. Her birthday came around, the big 30, in December. She started to get a little ancy. Suddenly is became more important to find a lasting relationship, to hold the interest of someone. By January she had met him, by February she was engaged, and by the first of August she was married (nice wedding, but the way). Everything seems to be working, so far. At least she hasn't disappeared from the world like in scenario 1, but the timing seems all too familiar.

Scenario 3. My cousin and his wife have been married for just a few years. When they both turned 30, it became apparent that it was time to have a baby, at least for them. Suddenly she was pregnant and now there is a new child in the world. Does 30 suddenly mean that you must procreate or die a shameful death?

Scenario 4....well, that's enough, you get the idea.

Yes, I suppose it is natural to feel your age at times. 30 is a milestone, one that is fast approaching these old bones; but does it require us to suddenly so miraculously "settle down.?" Is it that we are growing up and become responsible adults, wanting lasting relationships, children, and a stable future? Or is that we become desperate and cling to the first real possibility of long-term companionship? (We certainly don't get smarter or more mature just because of the number). In the end, does it really matter at what age our relationships start? How many 40 and 50 year old people are there our there, newly divorced or widowed or simply starting over? Just because you choose someone at 30, does it mean that it will last or have more meaning?

I'm hoping this fever, this 30-year-old sickness does not take over my brain as the dreaded year hits. I'm hoping to avoid the usual worry. I once wrote a poem that was published in one of my college's anthologies of student work. It was called "Quarter Life Crisis." If I was losing my mind at 19, what chance do I have at 30?

30303030303030

Blue

2008-01-15T21:57:00.000-05:00

I thought I would share with you today a piece I created several years ago. There are times when I feel the need to produce something visual rather than through the written word. Art to me has always held in itself a sense of romance simply by the nature of its existence. So drastically can it spur emotion and move us without doing anything but hanging there on a wall.

The first time a painting took my breath away was on the slide show screen of an art history class I took in college. The painting was by Joseph M. William Turner, an Englishman from the late 17/early 1800's. I sat right in the middle of the room as the professor sorted through slide after slide of work form the period, when this mass of color came bursting onto the screen. It was massive, several times it's actual size, it seemed to overtake the entire space I was inhabiting. As was typical of the artist, this scene was of the sea. In this particular one, a ship had wrecked, its inhabitants spread across the waters. It was not the story that struck me so, however. It was the intense color, the movement and energy created by the masses of yellows and blues, blacks and reds. The piece seemed to move before me, take me in. I nearly gasped at the sight of it. Nearly lost a few tears as well.

Call me crazy if you like. I certainly don't claim to be an artist, but I do have a definite appreciation for it. I realize that art doesn't affect everyone in the same way, but in that alone there is a beauty to it. For one thing to mean so many things to so many different people is, well, simply put, amazing. For one visual boxed in piece of canvas and paint and brush strokes to produce such a vast array of responses, it becomes more than the sum of its parts. It becomes art. For me that is romance, that is excitement and wonder and subject for conversation. We put ourselves into what we create and it allows us to connect with each other, to express ourselves and to show what we are made of. I cannot recall my mindset when I created this piece. It was probably more about expressing gradual changes and the intensity of color more than anything. I called it 'electric blue eyes' at that time. Perhaps I was trying to capture the essence and beauty of the eye, the seductive liquid blue eye of someone you can't take your sight from. It is hard to say. In any case, it was a romance for me, between myself and the paintbrush, the pigment and the paper. It is a romance that reappears now and then, asks for a late night date or an afternoon that flies by so quickly that it seems it was hardly even there.

Not Knowing is Worse than Bad News

2008-01-12T10:20:00.000-05:00

I was sitting with one of my closest friends last evening, who had just recently (well sort of) broken up with a fellow he had been seeing for the past four months or so. Being as supportive as possible, I was trying to convince him that contacting the man in question any further was pointless, even if it was only to berate him for his inconsideration. Of course, he was having none of that.

The problem is that his last contact with the man was a simple text message on his telephone asking him to sit down with him to discuss where they were going and if they were going to continue to pursue a possible relationship. At the end of the message, he stated that if they did not sit down and discuss it, then he was done with the whole thing. Of course, there was no response to that and they never met to discuss anything. Unfortunately, it reflected a pattern of tattered communication.

As our discussion furthered, it became clear that the reason he wanted to contact him again, besides wanting to vent his anger in the appropriate direction, was to invoke some response from the man in order to know how exactly he felt about the situation. Arguing with the man, having a knock-down, drag-out fight, getting some sort (any sort) of anger or direct rejection straight out of the man's mouth would be more satisfying than the silence he was getting.

I hate to say I empathize with the situation, but I do (see Perhaps I am not Psychotic). I've been in essentially the same situation, and it is one of the hardest things in the world to just let it go and move on without knowing what exactly is going through his head. And as much as I can tell him not to worry about it, to just let it go, I know it really won't do any good or make him feel any better about the situation. He's just got to get through it on his own time. Not knowing exactly how the other guy feels is worse than the bad news of knowing that he's just not into you anymore because without that 'for sure' statement, your brain continually wraps around the other possibilities until your head is spinning with uncertainty.

The same situation occurs with anything that doesn't quite make sense to us, an untimely death, the sudden withdrawal of a close friend and disappearance from our lives, even the loss of a job or general misfortune. The unexplained leaves our brains reeling, ever trying to find an answer.

The sad thing about the situation, especially when it comes to romance, is that we often do know the reason but refuse to let ourselves see it. The fact that he just doesn't care enough even to tell you that he doesn't want you anymore is one of the worst facts to face, especially when you care so much.

Don't Forget to Enjoy Yourself

2008-01-09T11:18:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you just have to step back for a second and take a breather before you overload yourself with so much nonsense and ridiculous worry that you forget how to enjoy life.

In a ridiculous series of events yesterday morning, I accidentally locked myself out of my own house. While it was a little less than convenient, it did provide me (albeit forced) an opportunity to stop for a minute and think about the direction of my life. I had nothing else to do except to wait for my spare key to arrive via its holder who was slightly delayed due to being at work at the time. I was hoping that my dog would somehow miraculously figure out how to jump up and hit the doorknob at least well enough to open the door a crack and let me back in; but instead he simply whimpered near the door’s base thinking he was missing out on something on the outside. So, instead, I decided to take a walk rather than look like a fool on my front stoop for the next hour. It had been quite a while since I walked the streets of my neighborhood and the surrounding area. Thankfully, it was an unusually warm winter day.

Perhaps I just needed the sunlight more than anything having been stuck on the night shift for the past week and having hardly seen the sun for being asleep during the day. Whatever it was, it seemed to change my perspective in just the way I needed. Not that I suddenly came to some great epiphany walking the streets in my work clothes and looking aimless on a weekday morning; but rather later that evening and into the next day (after a good bit of rest), I decided that I was making life a little more difficult than it needed to be at the moment.

I’ve done this repeatedly throughout my life, worrying about things that need not be worried about, expecting too much from relationships and trying so hard to make things work that I lose the whole point of the adventure and any meaning it could have. I was about to fall into the same trap again. Instead of worrying so much if a relationship is going to work, if you are truly compatible, if you are good for each other; sometimes you just have to let go and let time show you. It’s about going with the flow and, most importantly, enjoying yourself and the life you have. If you are always worried about your relationship, then how are you supposed to enjoy your relationship? Just do what comes naturally, and the rest will take care of itself.

It had been obvious to me since childhood that there is no ‘secret to life.’ There is nothing that makes you inherently a happier person, not even love. Life simply has to be lived. Beyond that, it is our choice (at least to some extent) to enjoy it or to be bogged down in misery. I realize that there are traumatic events that alter our existence, parts of our lives that can pull us into deep depression with no hope in sight. The same is true for ecstasy, although, in either case, the feeling is generally fleeting, even if the fleeting is extremely slow at times. We get what we get in this life, and we have to deal with it.

My new perspective is this: why get trapped in a cycle of anxiety and depression over things that I cannot change. Instead, go with the flow and enjoy everything and everyone you have to the greatest extent that you can. I am feeling a little crazy at the moment, ready for an insane adventure. I do not know what sort of adventure, but whatever it is, it will be fun because I will make it so. Things will work out the way they are supposed to. If I am meant to be alone, then so be it. If I am meant to spend my life with someone special, then so be that. I can do whatever I want, anything I want, and, in that, there is comfort, there is joy, there is a sense of not knowing what is coming next but not being afraid of that unknown. It is this lack of fear that has suddenly brought me a new found sense of freedom. I just hope the feeling isn’t temporary.

State of Flux

2008-01-07T09:57:00.000-05:00

Things do not suddenly feel the same anymore. Something has changed, but I do not know quite what exactly the problem, if there is a problem, is. I feel half like I need a change of scenery or something completely new to explore and half like I simply want to retreat from this world for a while into one in which the hardest decision to make is done from a sofa under a slew of blankets and involves choosing which movie to watch first. I alternately feeling the need to have other people around me and wanting no one at all to even call on the telephone.

My house is the biggest mess (and yes, I realize, for most people it would not be considered as such) it has been since I moved in, and yet I have not the time to tend to it for working so much. I am tired of looking at the Christmas decorations that should no longer be there, and yet, I dread the comparatively bare look that will return once they are taken down. I do not want the food that I have in the house, but going out hardly provides anything enticing enough to make the effort to go after at the moment. I have seen most of my friends and family members on the last few weeks, but mostly in small doses and with very little quality one and one time so that I feel like I’ve met my social obligations but only in a bare minimum sort of way. Everything has been so out of sorts that nothing seems quite the same, not even the clothes I choose to put on each day. My shoes seem all too familiar, the rooms of my house, even the furniture arrangement. Yet, I have no solution, no way to change it, and no routine to fall back on to return a feeling of normalcy. I don’t even know that I want to change anything or that it would do any good.

I feel the need desperately to produce something creative, something fresh and new to expunge this feeling, and yet I know not how exactly to do that. I fear if I pull out the paintbrush, I will be looking at a blank canvas for hours with nothing to show for it. My writing, even here, is not completely fulfilling my creative needs at this exact moment, cooking won’t do it, even my music seems to need an alteration, yet I know now where to turn for a new tune or a new song. Even the new stuff seems that same, somehow. Every bar, every restaurant, every street seems old hat at the moment, predictable and unsatisfying to the point of almost being annoying.

It’s not like there is something wrong with my life at the moment. I have everything I could possibly need. I am sure the feeling will pass; I just wish it would hurry in doing so. I have come to hate this time of year. The holidays have passed; there is no more constant excitement. While it is often overwhelming, all that must be done in December; there is a huge difference when you pair it with the dark and dreary winter of January and February. Sunday afternoons seem dead and dreary, the streets empty and the sky gray. Evenings are filled with dark skies and the light of television screens. Passion, excitement, and romance seem to have fallen dead with the trees, buried somewhere beneath the cold, gray earth.

Winter is a death, a dying of the earth before a spring renewal. It would seem that it has taken my sense of contentment with it this year. I yearn for something more, something new; and, yet, I do now know what. Things are changing again; I am in a state of flux. Where it shall lead me, I do not know.

A Year in Review

2008-01-04T08:50:00.000-05:00

As our month long poll reviewing the past your in love has closed, I’m glad to see that most of us seem to fall somewhere in the middle on the emotional spectrum. I’m sad to see that someone found 2007 to be the loneliest year of their life (there is always hope, trust me, I know from experience); but I dare say that we’ve all been there at some point in our lives.

Where did my past year in love fall in the spectrum? Well, as with everything in my life, there is a complicated answer to that question. If things had continued the way they started last January, it would have most certainly been the loneliest year of my life. Thankfully, they did not. After a bitter breakup that December followed by several months of wallowing self-hatred and self-imposed complete chastity, I found myself in Seattle, where my mojo was finally reawakened, if not completely, at least to start.

It was in Seattle that I met someone who helped renew my faith in the idea that there were good men out there still, men who told the truth and were capable of just being themselves without a lot of grandstanding or hiding behind false portrayals of themselves. The idea that I was capable of love again began to enter my brain.

Before my week there, I had gone on a series of dates with a variety of men that had produced not a single spark of romance and had left me with a rather bitter taste in my mouth about the state of gay romance in general (go figure). I mean, how many guys did I have to meet to get to one with a little substance that was also capable of making my heart pitter-patter, even if only a little? Perhaps it was my own warped state of mind at the time that stunted any possibility of romance for me, but I’d prefer to think it was them. It just wasn’t my time, and the stack of near misses was beginning to become overwhelming.

Anyway, getting back to Seattle. When I went on that trip, I desperately needed a change in scenery and a new perspective. Thankfully, that is exactly what I got. By some miraculous stroke of luck, I came upon a man who was willing to show me around town who also happened to be a decent guy. I realize I could have been walking straight into a very dangerous situation being in a strange city by myself and trusting a virtual stranger. I’m lucky he wasn’t a west coast gay serial rapist/murderer; but I took the chance and it paid off. It was one of those moments in which you are so out of your normal character that you are able to see things in a new way. He even took me to the airport the morning I left and kissed me goodbye right there in front of everyone. It was just like being in a big gay romance movie. He was my Seattle boyfriend, if only for the moment.

Of course, the movie feeling never lasts, and I was warped back to reality once I returned to Kentucky. I had unfinished business to attend to with not just one, but two of my exes (I’ll spare you the details), which ultimately forced me to find alternative living arrangements and lead to the purchase of my first home of my own. While that should have been a happy time, it did not feel like the accomplishment it should have as it was muddled in with the bitter (and when I say bitter, I mean nasty bitter to the point that I was embarrassed by the things that came out of my mouth at times. At some points I was even physically ill over the whole situation) remnants of one long-term relationship and one ridiculous half-second moment of insanity with a male nurse.

I had a few more dates with a few more unremarkable men that failed to hold my interest, which led me at that point to sort of let my romantic life slide for a while. I ended a couple of half-hearted casual dating situations to focus on my friends and the reconstruction of my suddenly shambled existence. My lowest point occurred when I allowed a man I had recently begun a series of conversations with over an internet dating service to come by my home to meet me in person. Falling just short of throwing myself at him in a lame attempt to gather some sort (any sort) of physical affection, I realized I had become desperate; and that was not who I was. It was time to stop.

So entered this very blog into my life back in late June of this year. I never thought I’d be comfortable exposing myself as directly as I have here, but it has been more therapeutic to me than I ever imagined. And, besides that, I find that in order to truly relate to something, especially in matters of romance and emotion, it has to be real, honest, and from the heart, regardless of how raw it comes out. Instead of making me vulnerable, the exposure of myself has actually made me stronger in that I am forced to own the truth. I feel more obligated and responsible to follow a better path because if I screw up, I have to own up to it here in front of all of you.

When I started writing, I was at an emotional and romantic low point for the second time this year; but there was a difference this time. This time I was able to accept the idea that I was alone and that if no one came along, I’d still be alright. I could still make it on my own; and besides that, I had an incredible network of friends to help me along. In fact, I was making it on my own and I was doing alright, one day at a time. I had let everything go and accepted the fact that I had to start with a clean slate in every aspect of my life.

Then fall came. Sort of by accident, I met a man who has forced me to rethink my idea of what a relationship is and can be. Without even trying, he has managed to calm my very restless and uneasy, often haunted heart and mind. Ever so slowly and patiently we have begun to build a relationship, doing our best to create a well-rounded one, one with substance and staying power. It is an adventure that, so far, had allowed me to be myself completely, in which I haven’t lost myself in the process of it. We have become part of each other’s lives without sacrificing any part of ourselves; and, everyday, we grow stronger together, one step at a time. For this, I am eternally grateful.

And so I end 2007 in a complete 180 degree turn from the way I began. It was a lonely year at times, yes, ecstatically joyful at others; but overall a very enlightening one. It was a year of bitter endings, but also new beginnings and new loves. A big gay roller-coaster ride full of surprise up and downs. What can I say? Nothing in my life has ever been anything if not complicated. I could use a little more stability in 2008, but only time will tell if that is possible. Either way, let the adventure begin…

Happy New Year!

[It was the year of the D’s, you guys brought me back from the love and romance graveyard. I can’t thank you enough. Here’s to you DH and DJ].

Goodbye Santa

2008-01-03T08:42:00.001-05:00

I have never been one who was very good at letting go of things, whether it be my favorite sticker as a child, my parents when I moved off to college, or my own opinion, no matter how wrong it may turn out to be. I've been told that I can belabor a point to death or hassle someone for information to the point of driving them crazy. It is a character flaw, I know. Most especially, though, it is people that I have a hard time letting go of, even if they haven't exactly been a good influence on my overall well-being.

I am reminded of this in several ways these past few weeks. today, it was saying goodbye to my family after their annual holiday visit. The first reminder, however, occurred at the beginning of the holiday season, sitting inside with my family as the ice and snow fell outside. I was in the middle of a round of Christmas movies when I began to recall my childhood relationship with the man in red, the great Santa Claus. Even after I knew there was no such thing (at least in the way commercial America would lead you to believe), I still clung to the idea, encouraging the notion with my younger brother and playing along with all the holiday rituals. I didn't want to let the idea go.

I once even caught my parents filling Easter baskets late the night before the big day. Instead of accepting that there was no Easter Bunny, however, I rationalized that he was sick and that Mom and Dad were helping him out this year so that we wouldn't miss anything. Absurd, I know.

As I think about it, though, I begin to realize that I've done the same ting in several of my past relationship as well. How often do we rationalize the situation and stay with someone who may no be the best for us? How often do we chose not to see the truth, going through the motions and playing along just for the sake of not letting go? How often do we cling to something that only brings us down just for the sake of not being alone? I'm good at putting blinders on, I'm good at not letting myself see the truth that I know is there, I'm good at rationalizing the situation; and it would seem that I have been good at it since childhood.

At some point, though, we've got to let go. I've learned that the hard way in bad relationship after bad relationship. Perhaps it's about growing up, maturing, becoming an adult in the same way it is when we let go of our childhood fantasies. If we rationalize everything away, what substance are we left with? What kind of relationship are we stuck in and how can we possibly move forward and grow?

Happy Holidays

2007-12-30T15:58:00.000-05:00

It has been a little hectic in my little circle of a world these past few weeks what with the usual family drama that always seems to surround my holiday experience and the unusually large amount of traveling I've had to do recently. Nonetheless, I wanted to stop for a minute and wish everyone a wonderful holiday season. For some, it can be a sad time, melancholy seems to abound; for others, a time for joy and endless parties; for still others, a time of reflection.

Wherever you are at in your life this year, try to take a moment to enjoy what you have, count your blessings, and give thanks for all that the year has brought you.

I wish you all the best. Happy Holidays!

My Deepest Sympathies and Love

2007-12-22T22:03:00.001-05:00

When you are not directly involved, there is something about the grieving process that leaves you feeling, well, rather useless. You want to be of some use, some support, say the right words, provide some sort of peace; and, yet, there is nothing you can do that quite feels adequate. You don't feel like you are helping at all.

One of my dearest friend's father passed away this past week; and this is how I feel, completely useless. I never met the man personally, but still there is a sense of loss, even if only peripherally. I have been through the grieving process more times than I care to count. I know the drill. I know all too well the chaotic mix of sadness, duty, unfamiliar distance relatives, cards, flowers, strangers patting your shoulder expressing their sorrow and asking if you are alright. I have found no words that truly comfort. There is nothing anyone can do to really ease the pain, the sadness, the tears. Thus, this feeling of uselessness.

How do you balance supporting your friends while still allowing for personal space and necessary personal grieving time? I don't think there really is a formula here. Death is and always will be a touchy subject, and because the depth and time for grieving is such an individual response, one person's boundaries are not going to be that same as the next. Some people need to talk about it, others need silence. It pains me so much now, I think, because I know the process, I know what my friends are going to be facing from now until the grieving is over, if it ever really is. It hurts to watch anyone go through it.

The only thing we can really do is be there, be present, listen. There is no such thing as a hero in these sorts of situations. We are not going to magically lift anyone's spirits or make anyone forget the immediate, often devastatingly painful situation. The important thing is to remember the good times, honor the memories, and be there when a shoulder, open ear, or Kleenex is needed, when it is asked for and not when you think it should be given. The important thing to know is that we still have each other, that our love for each other is strong and will get us through to the next day. All we can really do is keep on living, keep on supporting each other, growing as the the families we have created.

For me, in the grieving process, it was only this that brought me comfort, to know that I was not alone in my grief, that there were people to stand by me and that would help me with whatever I asked them to do. It was not that I needed them to do anything, just knowing they were there was enough.

If I knew a funny story to tell about him, I would, something to remember him by. While I never saw him in the flesh or have any personal memories, what I do recall are conversations of childhood, memories of chocolate milk and candy bars brought home from work as bedtime snacks, country music concerts, and trips to the lake in the boat. This is how I will remember him, even if it is only an imagined picture in my head. This is how I will remember a life that was held so dear by those so close to me, if not by me directly.

So, to chocolate milk and candy bars, and an irreplaceable, wonderful father.

In memoriam

AG 1953-2007.

-to ADG and AN, my deepest sympathies and love.

Words To Live By

2007-12-18T12:15:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite calendars is one that I bought last winter at a little alternative book store on the campus of the major university here in town. It is black and white, and each month offers a quote of some kind. I wouldn't put it in the same class as one of those inspirational items with vast pictures of landscapes and what not, though. This one is more food for thought.

I was turning the pages to December the other day (a few weeks late, I know), and I came upon the best quote I've yet come across. There were several really great points in a rather long entry for the month, but one particular line struck me quite deeply:

Give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.

Words to live by. It is my new motto.

(quote attributed to Christian D. Larson).

Please Stop Crying!

2007-12-14T01:15:00.000-05:00

I just had a quick note today. I was watching Project Runway the other day, which I usually enjoy thoroughly. However, there is one certain aspect of the show this season that has annoyed me enough to feel the need to voice my opinion here. I really, really wish Ricky would stop crying every time they do the personal interview segments. I mean, I know that it's a life-changing experience, that it's great to be there, and all that jazz; but is every little event worthy of shedding tears over? I mean, really, you're cute, love the hat, if I saw ya on the street, I'd probably look twice, but please, please, just stop crying so much!

Trying to Enjoy the Fruits of My Labor

2007-12-13T23:02:00.000-05:00

Why is that we so often make life more difficult than it has to be? We create our own little worlds of drama and worry inside our own heads until it nearly drives us crazy with grief and anxiety. Is it really that difficult to just enjoy what we have, the things we've earned and the people that care about us without concerning ourselves with what we don't have or what those that don't care to be part of our lives?

I laid in my bed last evening in one of those states of unrest, knowing that I needed to fall asleep to rest for an early work day the next morning, but being unable to do so. I grabbed my i-pod laying next to me as always, my trusty companion occupying the empty space where a human companion did not. I am in one of those blue moods brought on by my own insecurities, my own worry and preoccupation with the past and things I cannot change, remembering less joyful times and the heartache of years past. My fingers turned the dial of the small black box in my palm to my ever-present muse of sadness, Lucinda Williams. Several months had passed since had touched on her name in the screen; but instantly, after seeing it, I knew what I wanted to hear.

I've been trying to enjoy all the fruits of my labor...she belts out, ever so heartfelt. She knows the complication of it, the desire to enjoy what we have, what we have toiled over and worked so hard for, to enjoy some small space of peace and contentment; but also how tainted it is by the incompleteness of our hearts, the constant unrest, the reality of imperfect and heart-broken lives. How easy it is to wallow in the sadness, to let the depression and defeat seep in and take over instead of allowing ourselves the joy of our accomplishment, to allow new love. The real courage comes in not allowing ourselves to fall into the trap, to not allow anyone else to have the power to control our emotions, to pull us down into the darkest parts of our hearts and minds.

The saddest part is that we do most of the damage to ourselves, trying to control the perception others have of us, people who should have no consequence on our sense of self-worth, staying in emotionally or physically draining relationships instead of having enough faith in our own worth to move on.

If we only allowed ourselves to be happy, if only we opened the velvet curtains, wouldn't life be so much simpler?

On Day Must End For Another to Begin

2007-12-12T00:13:00.000-05:00

It's Just A Little Sting, But It Hurts Nonetheless

2007-12-11T23:15:00.000-05:00

No matter how over someone you are, no matter how long it's been since you've even thought about him, no matter how deep you are into a new relationship, it still stings a little when you find out one of your exes is seeing someone else.

It's funny all the nonsensical things we say when we end a relationship. I wish you the best, I see great things in your future, I hope you find someone to be happy with. If only we actually meant what we said. Sometimes I think it would be easier if he just said, "I'm over it, your not what I want, bye," and just walked out the door without another word. Maybe it's the fear of coming off as an asshole, or just the cowardice of facing the truth, but few of us have the courage to do it that way. So often it strolls along in an up and down roller coaster of confusion and betrayal until he finally ends it, or he finds someone else. Yeah it's gonna hurt, but personally I'd rather just pull the bandaid off all at once. Of course, it's different if you're deep into a relationship, but if you've only been dating a short time, just cut it off at the root, move on.

I might have said myself to a boyfriend or two that I wished him the best, that I hoped he found happiness, but frankly I don't think I did at the time. In trying to be mature, trying to move on, trying to be an adult, I have honestly made a sincere effort to wish happiness for all my past loves, boyfriends, and flings. But deep down there is an evil part of me that just wants to see some of them live the rest of their lives in misery, unhappy and alone as retribution for the heartache and pain they left behind. As wrong as that may be, I can't deny that it is down there somewhere. And today, it has reared it's ugly head once again as I somehow came into the knowledge today that not one, but two of my previous love interests are off into new worlds of romance. While I want to be happy for them as I have honestly moved on and am once again happy with my life, it still stings a little to know.

The thought will pass, I know. I have enough, almost too much, to occupy my time these days. There is no use in dwelling on the past. I could really use a photograph to burn right now, though, or a voodoo doll to stick a pin into, or a punching bag.....

We Do What We Want

2007-12-10T15:09:00.000-05:00

Ever invite him to go out to dinner with you and your friends, to which he says 'sounds cool,' but then doesn't show up?

Ever make lunch plans with a friend that end up not actually happening?

Ever have a lover say he wants to go away on a trip together, but then never quite getting around to making the plans?

Ever try to include someone from work in a social outing but never actually seeing them out or making the effort to actually show up?

Ever have a man tell you he loves you, but never take that step further into commitment, often even pulling farther away after he's said it?

One of my dearest cousins once said in a conversation of which I cannot recall the subject, simply that "people do what they want." It's funny how such simple words can hold and evoke so much meaning and understanding. It explains every one of the scenarios listed above, it explains most of our actions as human beings. Behind our feeble excuses: not feeling well, forgetting, or getting wrapped up in something else, it all boils down to this one simple phrase.

Why didn't Julie show up for the party? Frankly she would rather lie in bed and vegetate.

Why didn't Mickey go to work yesterday? He didn't feel like it.

Why doesn't Ann help her elderly mother like her sister does? She has better thing to do.

Why did Brandon leave Jim for Charlie? Charlie was better in bed.

Why didn't Henry answer or call Rod back? He was out with his friends and let it slip his mind.

Why did Joe say he loved Robert, but then go off without him to get drunk on Saturday and not reappear until Tuesday? On the first count, it felt like what he was supposed to say, and on the second, it's what he wanted to do.

We can't make anyone love us, we can't make anyone want to be with us, we can't make anyone do anything they don't really want to do. But where is the line drawn between independence and selfishness? Is there any sense of loyalty or obligation anymore? Does anyone go out of their way to help other people anymore?

If we all do what we want when we want to all the time, then how are we even really connected as human beings? Aren't we here on this earth together for some purpose, in some capacity to affect and assist in the lives of others? The connections and the relationships we build are, by design, a matter of compromise, a matter of melding two ideas, two lives together. If we only ever do what we want, then how is that possible? How is it possible to have any kind of meaningful relationship? Any kind of meaningful life?

Waning Attraction

2007-12-09T22:32:00.000-05:00

"My husband and I have a strange relationship," she said. "We have three kids, and we've been together about that many times. I'm probably exaggerating, but you get the idea. Seriously, we have sex twice a year or so, and I have to initiate it."

"Why, what's the problem," I ask, patiently listening.

"Apparently I'm too heavy," (and to this I give a gasped surprise as the woman in front of me may be a few pounds over a size 9, but by no means obese or in any way unattractive because of her current weight). "I am heavier than when we got married, but I have three kids..."

As my conversation with one of my co-workers continued, a lot of thoughts went through my head. We could go one of two ways with this, the first being the idea of losing your attraction to your partner, the other being a relationship with little or no sexual activity involved. Let's start with the first one today.

I once had a relationship myself in which the sexual part of the relationship began to wain after a while. When I pressed the issue, I was often told that I had gained too much weight. I had in fact gained about 30 pounds since our relationship had started, but still 220 pounds on a 6'1" frame is hardly obese. Yes I was overweight, but why did he have to throw it in my face? And in fact, it was the sex that started to dissipate before the weight gain. I often think that I had started to substitute chocolate chip cookies for the sex that wasn't there any more.

If it wasn't actually the weight gain that started the problem, though, then what was the problem? Was there a loss of attraction on the part of one or both of us? Was the physical part of our relationship waning and disappearing? And if the attraction does disappear, what can be done about it?

My co-worker had decided long ago to stay married to her husband despite their problems in the bedroom; but it often seems that most people don't stick around to wait it out or try to fix the problem, especially gay men. Often as soon as that spark wilts even the slightest bit, he's gone to the next man that catches his eye, off to the next bedroom and the next good lay.

Yes, sex is an important part of the relationship, but there is also a lot of other things that make a partnership fulfilling. If you care enough about each other then surely you would try to work on the problem rather than just walking away without even trying.

In the relationship I was referring to earlier, there were a lot of other issues that build up that not only affected our sex life but also ate away at many aspects of our relationship to the point that it was not healthy for us to be together anymore, but at least I did try to address and correct the problems (although unsuccessfully). If I had just walked away, I would probably always have that question in my mind as to whether it could have worked or not. As it stands, I know there was no way it could.

And on a final note, I must say that flat out telling your partner he or she is unattractive, whether from gaining weight or otherwise, is rarely productive. If you care about your partner, then work on the problem together. One of the most basic needs that most of us have as humans in the need to feel desired, and if you tell us you don't want us, it's a pretty big blow. If the relationship needs to end, that's one thing; and if the fire really is gone, then by all means look for a way to relight it, but at least be civil about it.

Worrying for Nothing

2007-12-03T15:56:00.000-05:00

Whether it’s the uncertainty of a new love, the instability of a blossoming romance, or our own insecurities, it is often difficult not to think the worst or want to give up when even the slightest problem or misunderstanding arises. I’ve seen it a hundred times; I’ve been guilty of it myself. He doesn’t return our call right away or goes M.I.A. for a few days and we think the worst, imagine him with someone else or assume he’s lost interest. We call our friends, analyze his last few text messages, go over it in our heads a hundred times. We do a little boy-bashing; wonder ‘why?’ wonder what he’s doing, what he’s thinking. We do it all except wait patiently or ask him directly what’s going on. If we just did that there really wouldn’t be a problem. But instead, we agonize over it and prepare ourselves for the worst, start thinking about moving on or what our other current options are in the romance realm.

Then he finally calls or our doorbells ring with him at the door. Everything is alright again, it was just a misunderstanding. In fact, it had nothing to do with us at all. We’re back on cloud nine. We were bad-mouthing and full of doubt for nothing. We’re happy and alright, at least until it happens again and the roller-coaster starts anew.

Is it worth it, though? Is the constant worry and up and down what a relationship is supposed to be about? In the beginning, when you’re getting to know each other, it is a necessary evil. You can’t know for sure what’s going on or if he’s telling the truth until you’ve had a chance to establish trust. You just have to wait it out until that point is reached. It takes a little bit of a faith, but for some of us, even that little bit is difficult to muster as our hearts are riddled with the bullet holes and shrapnel of past heartbreak. But that doesn’t mean it’s not possible, it may just take a little longer. The beginning of a relationship is about that back and forth, that wonder and uncertainty, testing each other and establishing limits and boundaries until the relationship matures and you grow together as a unit.

Having said that, you would think that the issue here is trust. To some extent it is; but there is an underlying problem that we are ignoring here if we leave it at that. When we subject ourselves to this roller-coaster of doubt and uncertainty (and yes, they are most often self-imposed), when we agonize over his apparent disregard for our presence, we often do so in response to our own insecurities. We worry that we are not go enough, that we do not hold enough interest for him to want to be with us. We doubt our own value and forget that it’s supposed to go both ways, that he has to trust us and want us just as much as we do him. We go on the defense, trying to hold on and hold his interest. But if we do it for too long it becomes a game, and the relationship becomes nothing more than a contest, a pointless exercise in control and an inaccurate measure of self-worth. And in that case, it is no longer a relationship at all.

While we may have moments of doubt and wonder about our partners once in a while as we grow with them and relationships development, it is important to remember that there are always going to be times when he has to do things on his own, and yes he may not return a call right away or be around every day when and where you want him to be. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you. You’ve just got to have a little bit of faith, and enough self-esteem to know that it probably has nothing to do with you and that everything will work out fine. And if it doesn’t, then you’ll move on just as strong as you were before it all started.

Complaint Fool? or Breaking the Rules

2007-11-29T23:00:00.000-05:00

I was nearing the end of my work day today when one of my least favorite fellow employees decided to stop by for a visit, making a pretty hectic day only that much worse. He is one of these useless middle-management types that find one small, insignificant part of your job that he feels you are lacking in or are not complying with policy in and continually reminds you of this one minute detail every time he sees you. All the while in his own mind thinking that he is somehow doing his job by reminding you of your noncompliance whenever he sees you.

In my case, the policy is dress code, and the minute detail so meticulously, repeatedly harped on is the use of a tie in my wardrobe. He once even asked me where my tie was when I was wearing a turtleneck. Not that I am a rule-breaker by any means, but when the tie is currently out of fashion in most instances and professional dress does not demand it's use anymore, I find it ridiculous that such a detail should be so adamantly enforced. If there was something wrong with my job performance, I might understand the incessant harassment, but as it stands, I don't get it. It's a good thing I only see the asshole once every few months.

I think what it comes down to is being able to think outside the box, beyond the constraints of the pages of an employee manual. Any effective, intelligent manager or employer is going to know that there is more than one way to do things, and as long as the job gets done and done well then there really isn't a problem. For a close-minded fool, however, there is only the thick black lines and letters on the pages, there is no gray area.

I may be stretching the situation a bit, but the purpose here is to illustrate a point. When you only follow the letter of the 'law' or your own expectation of a situation, then you live a very close-minded existence. You block the possibility of seeing things in a new light, from a new perspective. There is rarely only one way to complete a task or to live a life; and if you're following someone else's idea of existence, then you're missing out on an opportunity to make your own way, to live life in a way that truly makes you happy and discovering new ideas along the way.

I am unable to live a life that much of society feels is normal by the sheer fact that my sexual orientation doesn't comply with the majority of those around me. As a a gay community, we are (or should be) much more aware that there is more than one way to live life and to be happy, as there is more than one way to get a job done. If I choose to be with another man and to share my life with him instead of a woman, it is not wrong simply because is doesn't follow someone else's guidelines. And my job is going to get done right and on time whether I have a green or blue silk stretch of fabric tied around my neck or not.

Finding Balance

2007-11-26T01:46:00.000-05:00

I am at a point in my life at this moment where things feel somewhat settled and, dare I say it, normal for the first time in a very long time. My life does not seem quite so aimless and my time is filled with meaningful tasks and meaningful, lasting relationships. I feel a confidence in myself that has been lacking for quite some time and I feel like things are flowing smoothly in most respects.

That being said, it seems that I am still having some trouble finding a sense of balance in my life, finding a way to juggle and integrate all the aspects of my life together without neglecting anything or over-attending to one aspect of my being over another. It seems that there are still adjustments that need to be made in the overall scheme of my existence.

Before we get too deep into the philosophy of it all, let's backtrack for a moment. Perhaps we should start with the source of this line of thinking, and work from there. As I sat watching television on the evening of the Thanksgiving holiday with my mother, we began to talk. She pointed out to me that since last Christmas I had been rather distracted at our family functions, participating in conversation only when forced to, not focused on the activities or the people in the center of the current attention, often lost in my own world and apparently disturbed or saddened by what occupied my mind. While it wasn't as bad on this particular Thanksgiving day as it had been on previous holidays, it was still quite noticeable and was becoming a disturbing pattern or behavior.

As I sit and think about the implications of the current observation, I am struck by the truth behind it. Last Christmas was, perhaps, the worst holiday I ever experienced as my grandfather had recently died, I had been dumped on the sidewalk by a man I thought loved me deeply, and I had just come out to my immediate family to a disturbing array of responses. So, of course, I was distracted then, but why was it still so noticeable, why was I so unable to just relax and enjoy the current company and the holiday itself completely and without distraction? It's not like I was purposely trying to be rude to the company or trying not to be a part of the celebration. I just can't pinpoint why exactly that mood, that desire for silence and alone has struck at the most inopportune moments over and over this past year.

I think it has to do with finding that ever elusive balance in life, combining all the aspects that make us whole beings in a seamless way. I have worked so hard this year to rebuild my life, to build the new family that I have here in Lexington, to find myself again. The only problem is, I haven't found a way to combine it all with what used to be me, the family that has been a part of me since birth, that put the blood that flows in my veins in there to give me life and love and heritage. I still have work to do.

What I realize in this process of thinking, this introspection, is that I will never be completely settled, never be perfect and without room to grow. It is the definition of evolution, a constant change, hopefully for the better. There will always be details to tweak, pieces to add and remove, parts to repair. It wouldn't be life if it wasn't that way. I just have to learn to accept that and keep working towards a better me, valuing all the aspects of my life and enjoying every minute that I can on this earth.

Thank You Only Begins to Express

2007-11-25T00:20:00.000-05:00

Before this Thanksgiving weekend is gone and we move onto the more complicated endeavors of this winter's holidays, I would like to take a moment to do what we are supposed to on this holiday, reflect for a moment and give thanks for the blessings of the year. Often we are so wrapped up in the gorging on turkey (although I'd say I could do without for a while, I am about turkey and dressinged out at the moment) and the shopping and the pumpkin pie that we forget sometimes to remember how blessed we truly are.

Last Thanksgiving, I spent the bulk of the day at work while half of my family spent the holiday in the Caribbean for a belated birthday celebration and the rest of the family spent the holidays at their children's houses or the like. After work, I went home and prepared a small meal for two, which I shared with a new love, in a new, rented house, and a smile on my face that hadn't been there in months if not years. For that moment, I was happy, or at least I thought I was. The only problem was that just a few weeks later, everything had fallen apart and I was stuck in an aimless, severely depressed state of confusion and angst. That's why I try not to think about last Thanksgiving, why I often wish it had never happened at all.

Now fast forward a year later, 2007. I stand in my kitchen in front of 12 of my closest friends, a new family I have created out of the ashes of an incinerated previous existence. There is an abundance of food on the tables and counter tops in my new, purchased home, and the drinks and conversation flow freely. I give a short speech, thanking everyone for coming and expressing my gratitude at having gotten to know each and every one of them on a much deeper level in the past year, which is the complete truth. Each of the people in this room before me has brought me closer to finding my true self again this year, has brought me love and guidance in times of deep despair. It is why I consider them my family, why I wish so deeply to spend this holiday with them in celebration of making it through a year of strife and constant change. But in saying this, I know that is has taken that fall into despair in order to build these relationships, in order to be in this place in this moment with these people the way that we are. The pain was necessary for my overall evolution.

And so, I give thanks today, for the help and friendship and love that I have received this past year. The unquestioning acceptance of me as flawed as I am, and the patience in allowing me to slowly find myself again. In that way, I am thankful for the pain, as well, for without it, I wouldn't be standing here as strong and so well surrounded with support and friendship as I am today. I raise a glass to all of you, and perhaps a turkey leg as well, and hope that you can truly understand how truly deep my gratitude reaches. Thank you all.

Happy Thanksgiving!

If I Could Be Who You Wanted

2007-11-24T08:18:00.000-05:00

If you are a loyal reader, you know that I often refer to music when writing, usually spring-boarding into a larger topic based on a lyric or song title. Even the overall title of this blog came partially from a Yeah Yeah Yeah’s song. I find myself doing that again today as I was struck by a line from a song I have heard a hundred times before while driving down the road on a very rainy Kentucky afternoon on my way home for the Thanksgiving holiday. It’s funny how these things happen at specific moments in our lives, an album I hadn’t pulled out in nearly a year just suddenly appearing at my fingertips and then into the player in the dashboard. Then suddenly I am transported into that time, when I was listening to the album incessantly, absorbing the words and feelings of it. It was not a particularly happy time, but one that I have worked hard to leave behind me in the effort to move on into a happier existence.

The song is “Fake Plastic Trees.” The band is one of my favorites, Radiohead. From the title, I’m sure you’ve already decided it’s one of those very oddball pieces, alternative rock just a little beyond alternative, something unrelatable. But in that assumption, you would be incorrect. There is one specific line near the end that struck me then and still invokes deep thought today. It goes, “If I could be who you wanted….all the time.” Such deep, emotionally jarring thoughts wrapped up into one simple line. To me it’s about being at the end of a relationship and knowing that your partner is pulling away, knowing that you are not what he or she wants, about not feeling good enough for that person and feeling them slip away from your apparent inadequacy in complete apathy.

Of course, at the time that I discovered the album and began listening to the song so heavily, I was going through that very situation. It’s why the words spoke so loudly to me, gave me something to relate to. It fed my depression over the situation at the time, but perhaps it gave me a glimmer of hope that I wasn’t the first, nor would I be the last person to go through such a situation. It is one of the worst feelings in the world to not feel adequate, to feel like you are worth less than another person who you’ve loved or who you thought loved you, but in reality wants nothing to do with you. Some of us never recover.

But the lesson we have to learn here is that we cannot be what someone else wants, we can only be ourselves and know that that has to be enough. Even our spouses, our life partners, are not going to be perfect all the time, are not going to be who we want them to be all the time. If being ourselves isn’t enough, then we have to let go, regardless of how much it hurts, in hope of finding someone who will love us and accept us for the flawed beings we are. That was the most difficult thing for me to accept at the time. I didn’t want to give up, I wanted to change or prove that I could be what he wanted, that I could be good enough for him. I wanted him to want me again, like he did (whether he was honest about it or not) in the beginning. It took me a long time to realize that he was the one that wasn’t good enough, that he was the one that should have been fighting for my attention, that I was, in fact, good enough if not better than he deserved. It is very hard to let go when you are not ready to, though; and, thus, I struggled.

Thom Yorke sings, “It wears me out,” on the cut; and that, it did. I wore myself out to pure exhaustion at times worrying about things that I could not change. It was a futile waste of energy. Once I finally let it go, though, and was able to move on, knowing that I was good enough to make it on my own, I was finally able to rise from that ashes so to speak, or maybe out from amongst the forest of “Fake Plastic Trees.” All I can do is be who I am and hope that that’s enough. That’s all any of us can do.

The Problem With Threesomes

2007-11-16T12:21:00.000-05:00

I was walking through the mall on a first date once long ago. We were asking each other general questions, trying to get to know each other, when he looked at me over a pile of sweaters and asked me if I believe in threesomes. I have never been one who was good at immediate answers as my brain generally requires some time to mill over even the simplest of ideas, so I had to stop and think for a second before answering. Of course, I believed in threesomes in the sense that they existed and people did partake; but I knew that the real question was whether or not I found them to be acceptable. He was testing my morals.

Have I indulged in a threesome or two? Yes. Would I do it again? Of course, there is always that one-in-a-million opportunity that might come up that I couldn't possibly say no to, but generally the answer would be a resounding no. While it may be immediately satisfying to some degree, in my own experience, there is generally no residual benefit to such an endeavor. More often there is more complication involved than is generally worth the effort.

First, let's look at the technical aspects. Generally, there is more interest in one person than the other on the part of at least one of the participants, leaving one person out and not equally involved. Not exactly fair, is it? But if you're happy with whatever you can get, more power to you. I know what you're thinking. It would be great to be in the middle, like a sandwich, or getting it from both ends. Yeah, not so much. It tend to spread the focus and leave the whole experience less satisfying as you try to do two or more things at once. Don't let the moan of the porn stars fool you. It's not as satisfying as they would lead you to believe. Now if you're lying there and the other two are focused on your pleasure, it can be pretty fun; but often you are then obliged to return the favor, times two.

Now let's move on to the idea of spicing up your sex life when in a relationship. Often times, when the sex has become routine, perhaps even boring, couples will try new things, even new people in an effort to rekindle some kind of physical spark. I've done it. When my longest relationship felt stagnant and we had lost our connection, my partner and I made some attempt in this direction. It didn't even come close to solving our problems, however, as it seemed that when a third person was present, we focused all of our energy on him, never even touching each other. If anything, it spread us farther apart.

Now, reverse the situation. I was briefly involved with a couple that had been together for several years and was looking for a little outside pleasure. I would have to say that there was equal involvement physically, but it became fairly obvious rather quickly that one of the two was more interested in me both in and outside of the bedroom. In fact, at times it seemed that there was tension between the two over my presence, which made the situation rather uncomfortable. That's why my involvement was so brief.

Based on my own experience, I haven't seen any good come out of the threesome scenario beyond a little temporary pleasure, regardless of the moral implications of such a sexual act. It generally won't fix what's wrong with a relationship. If anything, it's only going to make things worse, if not create problems where there weren't any before. If you're single and just want to experiment a little, more power to you. If you're in a relationship and feel the need to look elsewhere for pleasure, perhaps there is more wrong with your relationship than you are willing to admit.

Like Watching A Train Wreck

2007-11-12T19:35:00.000-05:00

It seems that no matter how vile and disgusting something is, there is something in our brains that overpowers our sense of reason and decency and demands our attention. It's as if our sense of curiosity overtakes us. It's like watching a plane crash or a car accident, or a gory movie. We know it's going to be bad, there will be blood and gore; and yet we can't take our eyes away. We can't turn our heads.

You would think there would be a limit to what we could stand; but, it looks like the latest internet obsession would prove otherwise. I can't say that I am innocent in the matter as I was forewarned before entering the address 2girls1cup.com into my window browser, but I can say that I regret doing it. I think it may be the most horrific thing I have ever laid eyes on. I only made it through about 15 seconds or so before I started to feel sick, but I am told that it goes on for about a minute. Whoever could find what these 2 girls do to each other sexually arousing must have something wrong with them.

You'll notice I've failed to divulge any details about the site, but I can't hardly think about it much less describe it in detail as I nearly vomited from the brief seconds I was able to keep my eyes focused on the screen. I just wonder if your own curiosity will lead you to be one of the many who have viewed this horrid nonsense. Just don't say that I didn't warn you.

The Injustice of HomeOwner's Associations

2007-11-08T14:15:00.000-05:00

You will have to excuse me as I have been a little distracted this past week. I have been in dispute with my home owner's association over the placement of a satellite dish and it has taken up most of my energy. In fact it has nearly drained my energy trying to follow the rules to the letter as defined by a new set of policies that the association enacted at the end of October.

I realize that this has nothing to do with the main subject matter of this blog, but I'm feeling the need to vent somewhere, so I thank you for obliging me.

The main reason I wanted the satellite dish in the first place was because our local cable company does not provide the LOGO channel and has refused to add it to the lineup despite numerous requests. LOGO is, of course, the gay oriented channel with news and drama programs oriented towards the gay community. Without the satellite dish, I am stuck without it. The home owner's association has enacted new policies, however, that restrict where and how a satellite can be placed, which leaves me with no choice but to scrap the whole installation or pay out the nose to accommodate the rules. So I am stuck with no LOGO, and a pitiful number of HD channels after paying a fortune for a new television to watch it on.

Needless to say, I am frustrated by the entire situation. As a result, any romantic thoughts have entirely left my brain at the moment, and I apologize that I cannot focus enough to provide you with a more appropriate entry. Although, I suppose that distraction to the point of a lack of intimate thoughts is a romantic problem. But perhaps that is stretching things a bit.

Anyway, I suppose we should have a moral for today. Let it be that all should have fair access to the LOGO channel, and if your area does not provide it, request it until they do! Thanks for listening.

Happy Howloween

2007-10-31T01:25:00.000-04:00

Perhaps it is just the child still lurking somewhere deep inside of me or the mere fact that it allows for a slight deviation from the normal pattern of life; but, no matter what holiday it happens to be, I find a need to get into the spirit and celebrate!

Sometimes it's about tradition, sometimes it's about catching up with old friends or family, and sometimes it's about throwing back a cocktail or two and dancing the night away. There's nothing wrong with an excuse to do that, now, is there? Halloween is not exception, of course. The biggest gay bar in town throws the biggest party of the year the weekend closest to the trick-or-treat bash. Even furnishes a $500 prize for the best costume. It seems that every gay man alive is either there, at a house party, or wandering belligerently drunk down our downtown streets in tight, skimpy underwear, glitter, and angel wings. There's the "Rocky Horror Picture Show," too, shown Friday and Saturday night at the theatre next door with full audience participation. Fishnets and corsets abound. It seems that even those guys that never go out, disappear from the public eye for months at a time, show up for Halloween.

But, what is it about Halloween that makes it such a party? Why does it seem that so many gay men list it number one on their favorite holiday list? Is it the makeup? The dressing up? The complete disregard for convention and laxing of behavioral rules? Is it the idea of being someone else for a night, leaving your own skin for an evening and trying on someone else's? It's like an orgy of role-playing fantasies all rolled up onto one dance floor, filled to overcapacity and busting at the seams. Pink cocktails at hand, and hands creeping down slowly towards the pink flesh of manhood. A temporary liberation of spirit, of mind, of body.

Or is it the letting go, the fear and trepidation of walking through a haunted house and being completely vulnerable to the whim of a masked teenager in the dark. The exhilaration of being trapped in a pitch black maze alone with your closest friends screaming behind you. The sudden burst of adrenaline when the chain-saw carrying man almost leaps out of the screen and you fall into the arms of your boyfriend sitting on the couch next to you.

Maybe it's just the idea of tricks and treats and gobs of candy, forgetting our figures for one night and filling our bellies with sugar and sweetness (if not something a little more savory). It is the one night we are allowed to be bad, when evil is put up on a pedestal and awed at, wicked green fingers, magic spells, ghosts. The freaks and outcasts are glorified and revered, if only for one night. At least until the sun comes up and the light of days streaks through the windows onto our lipstick stained faces, running mascara, and tattered clothing. Then it is back to reality, back to the gym for another set of crunches, back to the normalcy of life. Until another holiday hits and we can deviate for a split second again....

Of course, I missed it all again this year. I seemed to get jipped out of Halloween every year, somehow, some way. So I missed to bar party, the infamous gathering at my friends' houses, the costumes, the candy, the fun over the weekend. All so that I could sit at work all night and wish I was somewhere else. I am off tonight, though, real Halloween, although it means little for the party crowd as it is a Wednesday night and they are still recovering from Saturday. I guess I'll make a date with my sofa, the 'Great Pumpkin,' and a pumpkin full of sugar sweetness.

Happy Halloween!

May your tricks be plentiful and generous with their treats!

First Taste

2007-10-30T01:05:00.000-04:00

I have been dreading this entry for quite some time, but I thought perhaps since this month featured a poll on first sexual experiences, that I would be open enough to recount my own first experience at the age of 18 whether it exposes my vulnerabilities or not.

The reason I have been dreading this entry, the reason I considered not including it at all, was that my first sexual experience was not exactly the most enjoyable moment of my life. It is one of those dark moments that you try to forget, that doesn't really represent who you are as a whole. It was one of those moments in which you don't quite feel like yourself.

It is sad that the culmination of years of pubescent angst and sexual yearning, years of hormonal boiling and curiosity should come to an apex in such an anticlimactic manner. I'm just glad I'm not the only one. It seems to be a common thread among a number of people I have talked to that the first time was not the most satisfying. But then again, I guess you can't exactly be perfect without some practice.

Obviously I'm stalling here. Could you tell? Well, let's get down to business. I won't bore you with all the details, but my first experience did begin in a public park (but no, I didn't have sex in that park, at least I wasn't that stupid) with a complete stranger. I don't know why I even remotely found him attractive, I don't think he even had all of his teeth. I had read books in the library about cruising at park restrooms and in the woods. As a teenager, the idea excited me. So when I saw this man parked near one of the bathrooms, walking around seemingly aimlessly, I figured that that was what he was probably doing. I don't remembering being nervous or excited or anything like that, like I said, I've tried to block it out. It sort of just happened.

What ended up occurring was that we got to talking a little, figured out each other's intentions, and he took me back to his trailer home in his broken down little blue car with a broken back window covered in black garbage bag (god it just gets worse and worse, I'm really regretting this now). Actually, I don't even think it was his trailer, I think maybe it was his mothers. Anyway, we proceeded to, well, don't even make me say it. Really, it ended up being just a jumble of awkward bodies. Lasted about half an hour or so I guess. He couldn't even keep an erection, since it seemed that he masturbated 4 or 5 times a day and had worn it out for the day. At least that's what he told me. What the hell did I know about it? I put my clothes back on and left as quickly as I could, felling sick and like I was going to vomit all over the gravel outside.

I was turned off by the whole idea of sex for a long time after that. I couldn't believe I had done such a thing with someone I didn't know at all and who I would never see again. I vaguely recall he even said he had been in jail, or was being sent to court for something...ugh, my head hurts. What could I have possible been thinking? I hated that sick feeling afterwards, and that happened a lot over the next several years. When you have been taught for so long that something is wrong, it is hard not to feel that way, and I fear that that disapproval, that nonacceptance of gay sex is what creates this culture of discretion in sex, this underworld just under the surface where anonymity and discretion feel necessary. If it were accepted as healthy and normal, there wouldn't be a need to meet people in parks or any other secret place for that matter.

I find the idea ridiculous now, meeting people in this way. I don't regret anything in my life, that first experience did serve some purpose in the overall scheme of my being; but it still makes me cringe. We all do things that make little sense in our lives. It was a rite of passage, moving from abstinent to sexually active being, but if only I could have chosen someone a little more, shall we say, appealing? I guess it's good to laugh about it though, just a little. Then let's close the book on this one and move on to more pleasant ventures.

Glory Days?

2007-10-28T08:48:00.000-04:00

As I just happen to be browsing the channels on the television into the wee hours of the morning the other night, I came upon a documentary entitled Gay Sex in the 70’s. Naturally, my interest was peaked, so I sat and watched as half-naked men filled the screen along with stories and recounts of the glory days of gay life in New York before the days of HIV and cautious sex.

“Must have been nice,” says a dear friend as I recount the film over a telephone call. What stuck out at me from the film most prominently was the pure freedom and uninhibited abundance that surrounded sex at that time. Over and over during the hour, men admitted to sex at all hours, in all forms, anywhere and everywhere in the city from the abandoned piers or the inside of dark 18-wheelers, to the back room of clubs, public parks, or bath houses that never closed. Sex three, four, five times a day, often with complete strangers, often with several men at once. “Life was like being in a porn,” said one man. It seemed almost an obsession for some, sex came before everything else. And there was no worry, no inhibition whatsoever as everything you could possible catch was treatable. As the film states, men would take penicillin before a long weekend out on Fire Island or stop by a trusted doctor’s office whenever anything unsightly occurred. Everything was a quick fix, and he was off again to the races, often cruising in the waiting room while waiting for his shot. He may even get laid in the doctor’s office itself, by a staff member or the doctor himself. It’s just another shot, right?

Perhaps it would have been nice to have that freedom, to not worry about anything or anyone. A sex that is purely recreational, purely without consequence, and available in incredible abundance. Perhaps the essence of it is that freedom to be who you want and do what you want with whoever it suits you to do it with at that moment. Of course, we know that there were consequences, consequences that stay with us even today. It couldn’t last, and perhaps it shouldn’t have lasted. However you look at, when you indulge in anything to such a vast extent, it is gluttonous, it can become an obsession, and it can take over your life. But in the overall scheme of things, in the ever evolving history of gay men, I think that perhaps this period of pure gluttony was a necessary evil.

Perhaps I am just playing devil’s advocate here, but the idea brings up a lot of complicated issues. One man in the film stated that he felt like every young man needed such a time to explore this sense of freedom of flesh, to explore his physical sexuality. Perhaps young gay men are robbed of that today with the reality and consequences of promiscuity and drug use that was not present in the 70’s. Although, it would seem that the warnings are not heeded by many of today’s youth as I have discussed previously in this forum. One might even go so far as to state that the current generations of gay youth are still paying for the sins of our predecessors. It is hard to say.

I digress. Returning to the idea of the necessary evil, I ask you to look at it in a broader perspective. This period of free love and abundant sex (which was not purely a gay phenomenon, but shared with much of the youth of this generation) created a place in society where gay men felt comfortable, could be themselves, did what they wanted without fear of persecution or backlash. It created a community. If you were in the presence of another gay man, there was an immediate sense of brotherhood, and shared respect. One of the most memorable lines from the film involved the idea that when the AIDS crisis began, it was the gay community that stood up and fought back. “It was the first time that the people inflicted by the epidemic took control of trying to stop it.” Community is what we need in order to have a voice, in order to protect and assist each other, and if it took a decade of overabundant genital exposure, then I can’t say that it wasn’t worth it. The sad thing is that that sense of community seems to be lost on current generations, but that’s a topic for another day.

One of the men interviewed for the film relayed his experiences from that time. He had participated heavily in the promiscuous sex of the day, but relayed a deeper desire through the whole experience to find a special someone, to find ‘the one’ to share life with, to be close to. I find it a common thread among most people, whether gay or straight. It seems to be the essence of some people, from that time and now, regardless of how much sex or how many partners they have until they find it. Perhaps it would have been nice to be alive at that time, to experience such freedom and know so much flesh; but if I had to choose between that and a special someone, I’d pick the special someone every time.

Big Blond Foam Wigs

2007-10-25T08:48:00.000-04:00

There is a wonderful old movie house here in the city where one can catch a cult classic on most Friday nights at midnight. It is one of a dwindling number of cool places to patronize in the ever-changing town of Lexington, where it seems that it doesn’t matter who you are or what you do. Everyone is welcome. In fact, diversity is encouraged.

On one particular Friday night, I found myself carousing with one of my closest friends. We ate, we drank, we painted the town, biding our time before show-time at the historic downtown theatre, where our eyes were about to feast on the glamour and the glitz of the rock-musical classic, “Hedwig and the Angry Inch.” There were dregs and pierced noses along side nerdy, black glasses types, along side gay and straight and a hearty college crowd. Everyone in line for popcorn and root beer, excited to see the horror and the beauty of it all on the big screen.

For those of you who don’t know, the story is rather bizarre and twisted, unlike any other. But isn’t it always that way with the true cult classics. We were informed that the writer was a Lexington resident by the theatre manager as we walked into the main viewing room, quite proud to have someone tied to the project so close. But, apparently, he is not one that you would immediately think was capable of creating such a story by mere appearance. But I imagine that writers are rarely what we expect them to be in person based on their work.

The story here involves an East-German child that is seduced by an American soldier and taken to the United States as his bride after a botched sex-change operation (that the soldier insists he have). Once in the United States, the American soldier finds a piece of fresh meat and leaves our main character behind. As the story progresses, Hedwig becomes a song-writer and falls in love with a young lad, who later steals his songs and becomes a huge pop star leaving Hedwig in the dust without any credit for his work. Hedwig forms a band of the same name as the title of the film and begins following this lad across the country, playing each city he stops in for a concert in a smaller nearby venue, fighting for credit to his work and struggling to reach this child that has left him in the dust. What is the angry inch, you ask? Well, the botched sex-change operation left poor Hedwig with a useless (and apparently angry) inch of flesh where his genital used to be. “It’s what I have to work with,” he says as his lover discovers his malfunction. Such tragedy, such drama, such classic cult style.

Why do we love them? Why are they classic? Because they are so different, because they are so unlike anything else out there. If nothing else, they prove that maybe there is someone out there more screwed up then we ourselves are. They are as unique as each one of us and take us to another place, however bizarre and surreal. Where else can we put on our big blond foam wigs and sing about deformed genitals. I couldn’t think of a better way to pass a Friday night into the wee hours of the weekend.

The Romance of American Football

2007-10-14T09:57:00.000-04:00

While I do not claim in any form or fashion to be a fan of American football, I cannot help but awe a little at the magic that seemed to occur here last night in the Midwest town of Lexington. What I awe at is the way one single event, one stretch of hours on a single autumn afternoon can suddenly stop time, erase all differences, and unite a city in purpose and energy.

It seems that hotel rooms were very scarce here in the city last night, traffic a virtual nightmare as tens of thousands of people fell upon the campus of the University starting as early as eight yesterday morning for coffee, bacon, sausage and eggs off the back of pick-up trucks followed by lunches of beer, bratwurst, and corn-hole games. Some go just for the food, the friends, and the alcohol. The real action began at 3:30 on this afternoon, though, as a perpetually close game ran through four quarters between the best team UK has seen in years and a #1 ranked LSU football team.

“I don’t think a single fan has left the game,” came the voice of the radio announcer, “fourth biggest crown this stadium has ever seen.” Four hours into it, the game comes up tied, we’re off to overtime. The crown chants, “Go Big Blue.” Another tie, another overtime. The tension in palpable as the crowd, the home audience, the radio listeners sit poised and focused. The energy of the city suspended in this one moment, this small stretch of time, all is lost and forgotten: gay, straight, young, old, worries, troubles, arguments, disagreements, prejudices. It’s all gone for the moment as something greater takes hold of the heart of the people and demands full attention.

Finally, third overtime, “TOUCHDOWN UK,” and then a failed score attempt from LSU and the game is over. We win. Records, trends, expectations shattered and left in the cold grass. Fireworks shoot overhead, the crowd rushes the field, music plays. There is dancing, drinking, joy. It is a moment when nothing else matters, all is well, we are one as a crowd, as spectators to a great event in college sport history. As much as you may loathe the idea of sports, as casual a fan as you may be, at that moment you cannot deny the magic, cannot deny the romance of what seems to be possible, a peace in the world, a place where our individual differences mean nothing, where we are all united for a greater cause. It is the romance of a better world.

The party continues into the night, the downtown streets saturated with people. There is an air of celebration in the air that does not want to end, for in the morning, as the sun rises over the cluttered streets and parking lots littered with the remnants of ten of thousands of people, the romance slowly fades and the reality of our world returns. We pick ourselves up and do it all again next week in the hope that that magic, that romance, will begin anew.

A Question of Race...or....Racism Among Gay Men

2007-10-09T01:42:00.000-04:00

"Have you ever gone Asian," says a voice to my right at a pristinely white tablet covered with pristinely white plates and napkins.

I do not respond. He says it a bit louder, and suddenly I'm drawn out of a moment of day dreaming. I am drawn back into the world of the living where myself and several friends are seated for an extravagant brunch after an evening of expensive cocktails and spirited dancing. I politely ask him to repeat the question as it has not registered in my brain as of yet, and then quickly answer, "yes." I am then asked to indulge them in recounting my experience, and then the conversation goes on to delve into the differences in men in the bedroom based on race. We discuss everything from African-Americans to Greek men, to Australians and Latino men. Some experiences being good and others bad, but generally, the conversation was quite interesting and actually invoked a lot of thought on the subject of race in general.

I cannot say that I ever really considered a man's race in deciding whether or not to go on a date with him, hang out with him, have sex with him, etc. It's just not something that generally enters my brain in any aspect of my life. I have been fortunate enough to have had a variety of friends of all different kinds of backgrounds from a very young age so that it doesn't even register into my consciousness that someone is different just because of the color of their skin. It is actually quite astounding that I didn't come out a little bit differently as several members of my extended family can be quite racist. It seems to be a fairly common ideology here in the Midwest with people raised in a certain generation. Nonetheless, I am glad I grew up the way I did. Ever the extreme idealist, I have continued to always try to treat everyone I meet as an equal, which in fact they are. The only exception being stupidity, you will lost points with me on that, but otherwise don't expect me to act differently or treat you any better or worse simply because you have a different background.

However, as a casual observer of the world, I have seen instances that would suggest that not every gay man is as..., let's say open-minded. It seems that there are a number of men who prefer or in fact go so far as to exclusively date one kind of man or one race of men. I realize that attraction is an innate thing. We cannot change who we are attracted to, but I find it hard to believe that such exclusivity is necessary. It seems that such filtration would weed out some of the best candidates who may in fact be right under our noses.

I have one friend who refuses to date African-American men entirely, another who generally won't give a white man the time of day, still another who tends to dwell in a Latino fantasy 90% of the time, and the list goes on. I have found that many African-American men (although I don't know that it is a majority) seem to prefer white men when cruising the Internet or out in gay bars, and quite often, Internet profiles from a number of people in general blatantly state a search for a specific race. But why is it so important? I really do not understand. No matter how you slice it, when you exclude someone because of their race, no matter what it is, isn't that racism.

Of course, when you add in the other factors that gay men use to weed out possible mate candidates, one could easily assume that as a group, we are actually quite picky, if not down right discriminating. There are men who won't date anyone above a certain age, a certain weight, who look exclusively for older men, or men with a certain income, who won't look at you twice if you associate with a certain crowd of people or hang out at certain establishments or are from a certain part of the country. You'd think that after years of being discriminated against because of our sexual orientation for so long that we would have a more enlightened outlook when choosing people to associate ourselves with.

I speak from the idealist perspective here. I realize the people have preferences, that certain things turn us on, and maybe one of those things for some people is the color of someone's skin. All I would ask is that we keep our minds open to whatever comes our way. Life is hard enough being gay, why make it harder by alienating anyone that could enrich out lives?

The Gay Sex Dictionary (continued)

2007-10-08T00:39:00.000-04:00

To continue with our comprehensive list...

Sixty-nine (69)- both partners pleasure each other equally and at the same time. With a male and female, generally the female performs oral sex on the male, while he performs oral sex on her vaginal area. With two men, each generally performs fellatio on the other at the same time. Some find this form of sex less than satisfying as you are in the mist of working on your partner while being pleasured yourself and are not able to fully enjoy the pleasure being performed on you. Others enjoy the experience thoroughly.

Cruising- general term for looking for sex, it can occur anywhere, from the grocery store to the local gay bar, Internet, or the bathroom at the nearest home depot.

Trick- basically a one-time encounter, usually involving oral sex, mutual masterbation, etc, and sometimes, although rarely, anal sex. A trick is someone you never intend to see again.

TS- transsexual. This refers to someone who identifies with the opposite sex of that which they were born. Most often, when using this term, the individual has undergone surgery to become the opposite sex, or is in the process of doing so with hormone treatments, etc.

TV- transvestite, drag-queen. This refers to a person that dresses like the opposite sex. They do not necessarily have any intentions of becoming or identify with the opposite sex.

Transgendered- refers to anyone with gender identity issues, including TV, TS, and Intersex individuals.

Intersex- a person who is born with physical or physiological abnormalities and whose genitals may not directly link them to either gender. Their physical being is often sexually ambiguous.

Handjob- sometimes referred to as mutual masturbation, although reciprocation is not always present. Fairly self explanatory, one partner pleasures the other's genitals with his hands.

DD free- Internet lingo for drug and disease free. Generally means he's claiming to be free of STD's and doesn't use drugs.

Nipple play- yes ladies, men are sensitive there, too. It can range from simple touching and rubbing of the nipples to rougher forms of biting, clamping, etc. I've known several men that when touched there, they became instantly aroused, even with only minor touching.

Prince Albert- refers to a common type of penile piercing.

Water sports- sounds innocent enough, but actually involves sexually pleasing someone by urinating on them (or even in them). I knew a friend who went into a bar in England where a man lay in a bathtub in the restroom where gentleman could come in and urinate on him. personally, I don't understand the appeal.

Steamer- (as long as we're getting dirty, might as well go all the way). This practice involves lying down with plastic wrap over the face and allowing someone to stand over you and defecate onto the plastic wrap, thus creating 'steam.' Apparently there are boutiques in New York where you can pay to have this done.

Dirty Sanchez- This one is rather humorous, although rather disgusting as well. It involves doggy-style anal sex in which there may be a little bit of a mess (don't make me spell it out for you), getting it on your finger, and then rubbing it across your partner's (the bottom's) upper lip like a mustaches as you are giving it to him from behind.

Cement- refers to ejaculate (cum) that has been ejaculated into the rectum during anal sex. Physically harmless, but often a little messy when coming back out.

Pig Play- refers to 'dirty' sex. Generally it is sweaty, raunchy, sometimes downright nasty. Can involve water sports, fecal matter, etc.

Douching or enemas-not just for women, there are rather elaborate devices available on the Internet or at your local adult bookstore for the cleansing of the private areas. Of course, with men, it involves cleaning the rectum/anal area. Some even find the process rather sexually arousing. Water or other liquids are inserted into the bodies cavities and the ejected back out to cleanse the desired area. The general purpose is to prevent any unsavory accident from happening during the sex act.

Glory-hole- generally it refers any hole that a man's genitals can fit through for someone to pleasure on the other side. This is the epitome of anonymous sex as you may never see your partner during the act. They can be anywhere, but most often are found between stalls in public restrooms, adult bookstore video booths, or gay bathhouses.

Gay-for-pay- refers to a male porn star who has gay sex for money on camera, but is actually straight in real life.

LGBT- Standing for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered, this abbreviation is often used to represent the Gay community in general.

Poz- abbreviation for someone who is HIV positive. Often used in Internet profiles.

Voyeurism- refers to getting sexually aroused by watching someone else naked or having sex, usually without that person/people knowing. Sort of a peeping-Tom phenomenon.

Exhibitionism- refers to getting sexually aroused by exposing one's genitals to others, often in public.

Power Bottom- may seem like an oxmoron, as a bottom is usually submissive during the sexual act, but they are out there. A power bottom takes control of the sex act, often inserting his partners member into himself and taking control of the pace and position of the sex act. Basically, a dominant bottom.

Well, that's all I can think of at the moment, if any term comes up that you do not know the meaning of, just ask, I'll do my best to clarify.

The Gay Sex Dictionary

2007-10-07T02:05:00.000-04:00

Feeling a bit Frivolous today, I thought perhaps we'd review a few terms and practices that not everyone may be familiar with, trying to focus the list on the practices of gay men (although most would generally apply to anyone). I know we've clarified a few things on this blog in previous entries, but perhaps a comprehensive list would be more productive for past and future reference if in fact I use some word or term that is unfamiliar with some of our readers. The list may range from tame to downright vulgar, but we might as well put it all out there, provide a little education whether it's pretty or not.

Fellatio- i.e. blow job, oral sex, sucking cock, giving head, etc. A mouth, a penis, you get the idea. Just remember, it's not a straw.

Rimming- licking, tonguing, sucking, or generally arousing a partner's anal opening with your mouth. If you're going to do it or have it done to you, for goodness sakes be clean down there!

Vanilla sex- there are a few different interpretations of this one. For most gay men it means having sex but not going "all the way" (i.e. anything but anal sex). Nothing kinky or extravagant, it's the basics of arousing each other.

Fisting- the practice of inserting one's fist into his partner's rectum. One thing I have no intention of ever trying and find hard to believe that anyone truly enjoys. But to each his own. They even sell plastic versions, like dildos, for personal pleasure.

Dildo- they come in all shapes in sizes, some vibrate, some don't, some have two or three heads for group action. They are generally made of plastic or glass and are shaped and sized like a penis for pleasuring oneself or a partner. They are the anchor to any good sex-toy collection.

Fetish- technically, to be a fetish, one can only be able to get off (to cum or ejaculate) when in the presence of said object or scenario. Without it, arousal is impossible. A lot of people call things fetishes, but they may just simply be something that turns him on but may not be completely necessary for arousal. They can range from things like socks, underwear, or shoes, to being tied up, being choked, or simply being outside. The list ranges from the very mild to the absolute bizarre. I've mentioned this before, but the most unusual one I ever head was haircuts.

Cum- ejaculate, sperm, jiz, cream, whatever you want to call it, it can be a mess if you're not careful.

Top- the insertive partner, whether it be into his partner's mouth or rear end.

Bottom- the receiving partner in either oral or anal intercourse.

Intercrural sex- there is no insertion, but rather the 'top' thrusts his penis between the other man's thighs. Kind of a mock way of having sex. Tends to be more pleasurable for the top if done properly. May be safer as it is a non-penetrative form of sex.

S&M- or slave and master. May be considered a fetish, but generally one partner takes control of the situation and the other does whatever he is told to do. Often involves whips, chains, blind folds, ball gags, nipple clamps, leather, elaborate scenarios, and sometimes pain.

Fucking- anal sex, corn-holing, 'going all the way.' Many gay men consider this real gay sex, everything else being simply foreplay.

Foreplay- everything from kissing to rubbing to dirty talk. It's the stuff that gets you aroused before the main event.

PNP- usually this is an abbreviation seen on internet profiles. It means party-and-play. Which generally means he wants to smoke a little weed (or participate in some other drug activity) before getting your clothes off.

Frot- the rubbing of two penises together. Often when to men face each other, it happens naturally or one will take both members into his hand at once and rub them together.

Tea-room- generally a public restroom or other meeting place where men meet for anonymous sex.

Tea bagging- placing of the scrotum into another's face.

Well, it seems there are more than I thought, so we will have to continue this into the next entry.