Family Service

When I was a little kid, my father (who had served in the Air Force during the Korean War), told me the story about my grandfather.  

The story was about how grandpa (my father's step dad) had served time in prison because he was a conscientious objector during WWII.   A devout Jehovas Witness, he didn't believe in fighting or killing.  My dad, who was prejudiced beyond belief about anyone who was different or believed differently than he did, told the story every memorial day when I was little.

I had a brother who served in the Armed Forces during Vietnam when I was an infant, and other family members who had served in both world wars so memorial day was important all the way around.  

I believed in military service from a very young age, so much so that I was willing to join when I was 19 and sign an oath I wasn't a homosexual.

Years later, after my father died, I found out he had been discharged from the Air Force with a 'less than honorable' label attached to his service record.   I never found out why, though I could have.   It also made me think about how proud my dad he had been when I joined......but how if he had lived long enough to learn I was gay....odds are he would have disowned me. 

I still believe in serving one's country, and that includes in the military.   If we are privileged to the point of living here and enjoying the freedom the rest of the world envies...we have a duty to serve and protect that.....even if we're gay.  

This memorial day I remember my family members who have passed...those who served, and those who were simply a part of the tapestry of my life.    I also pause to honor those currently serving.....and those whos service has been hindered or destroyed by DADT. 

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No, Please. Do Tell.

I voted for the guy, I've supported him because I know he has a full plate of issues on his table......issues that affect the entire country.

But he promised.

I'm a sorta-kinda patient person.   I realize things take time, priorities shift, things come up.

But he promised.

I know better than to believe a politician.  After all, they have to be all things to all people, work the room, make the deals....make friends.....make
 ....compromises.

But he promised.

I thought this President, would be different....because he promised.

DADT is wrong.   The President and his last minute compromises are wrong.  

Give me a reason to believe in your promises Mr. President......because you promised....and so far I see nothing but excuses.

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I'm The Kinda Guy.....

I'm the kinda guy that performs at his best when there's a deadline involved.  An end goal, a reward (or penalty) at a firm finish line.

For me, there has to be something 'to' the journey.  A method to the madness otherwise, otherwise I flail.

If I have an open-ended amount of time, I don't do well....I procrastinate.....I get distracted by shiny things.

I know this about myself and while I hate it, I've come to accept it,  It's just who I am.

This doesn't mean I don't enjoy free time, because I do.   But too much free time?  Too much expanse without a final destination?  To me, that is well.....'yawn'. 

What about you?   Do you enjoy deadlines?  Goals etc?  

  

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It's My Birthday Bitches!

Another year, another birthday.  I think I'm just beginning to realize they are piling up surprisingly fast.   Oh well, no time for self-pity.  I'm privileged to be in this world and count my glbt friends as my family.
 
Today it will be chinese for dinner, followed by the cake I have insisted on since the first grade:  devils food chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, round, two layers.....and no fucking candles.

So carbs be damned!   It's my birthday bitches!

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Happy Birthday Harvey

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Full Circle

It was 1985. Ronald Reagan was President, Amadeus won the Oscar for Best Picture, New Coke was introduced and I was about to graduate High School.

Twin Falls Idaho was (and in many respects still is), a small town USA kinda town. Patriotism, church, conservativsm all reigned supreme. I knew I was gay, but could not envision a future anything close to what I have now. I felt very much alone, and remember the 80s were pre internet so unless you moved to a big(ger) more progressive city…you really were kind of alone.

My graduation present came early, a project and gift from my Dad. It was a 1972 Plymouth Satellite Sebring, in original condition with a 440 V8 engine and a cassette deck.

At that time, I heard a song on a TV show and tracked it down to the group “The Nylons“.  Once I played that tape in my graduaction car I fell in love with them, eventually learning every song, backwards and forwards.

The song “Up the Ladder” and “Please” blared through my car windows, competing with the roar of the engine as I cruised through town in my vintage muscle car. It was a good time in life, full of sun, possibilities and care free youth. I loved all the songs on that cassette….they spoke to me. The Nylons were all about soaring accapella, intricate harmonies, pristine vocals and rich lyrics that bent your heart to their story.

Then life happened, cars changed, cassettes morphed to Cds and MP3s and I mostly forgot about that special group I spent my spring and summer with.

Recently on You tube a chain of accidental clicks reminded me of The Nylons and I found them once again. My friends from long ago were still there, as well as new favorites from their old material. As I watched the vids I had a feeling they might just be family. It wasn’t just the funny 80’s fashion…or their dance moves…or the fact I detected facial wasting in the lead singer Marc Connors. It was something more, and it inspired me to find out more about them. So, I did a search and couldn’t believe what I learned.

They were gay. All of them.

It was an emotional moment for me.  While I was beginning my life as an 18 year old gay kid…their songs had became a part of my life, and little did I know we shared a bond, a kinship.

The story of the original group is amazing, heart breaking and touching all at the same time. And even though "out" gay entertainers were practically non-existent in the 1980s…they connected with a young gay man just starting out in life. The Nylons have owned my heart for a couple decades, now we’ve come full circle and I feel I owe them my thanks.
The above were my favorites from all those years ago....the one in the Daily Aural is my new favorite.

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Time Travel Thursday

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Chalk It Up

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BIZZY Day!

Today was one of those days where I was playing catch-up from the moment my feet hit the floor!  It wasn't a bad day, just freakin busy...so in lieu of a real post (and believe me I had plans for one)......here's a photo I came across that kinda floored me.

I love them both, but daay-ham!

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This Week's Artist Spotlight

This Week's Artist Spotlight is Ross Bleckner.  His slideshow featuring some of his work is in the far right column. 

Ross Bleckner new he wanted to be an artist from childhood, but unlike most children who eventually leave behind the joy of creativity, he stayed with it, and today at 60 he has achieved a level of skill and popularity most can only dream of.
He graduated high school in 1967, and attended NYU where an influential art teacher advised him to enroll in art school, which he did in the early 70’s. At California Institute of the Arts, conceptualism and minimalism were the trends and his early painting reflected some aspects of those genres.

For the last 25 years, his art has been largely an investigation of change, loss, and memory, often addressing the subject of AIDS. Mr. Bleckner uses symbolic imagery rather than direct representation, and his work is visually elusive, with forms that constantly change focus.  An influential Gay Activist, He is also a philanthropist, donating time and money to many organizations and is on the board of ACRIA, the AIDS Community Research Initiative of America.
When asked how the AIDS epidemic affected his work he said in part, “For me, AIDS in the 80s when I was in my 30s, was an issue which signaled kind of an end to an era of unbridled optimism about what it actually meant to live, a normal life-span. So suddenly endless optimism became a sense of a fear of mortality. I think that became a very pervasive sense of consciousness regardless of what your sexuality was, and that was very profound”.

http://www.rbleckner.com/press28.html , http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ross_Bleckner , http://bigthink.com/rossbleckner

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Time Travel Thursday

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I Need To Prooffread

I just left a comment on one of my favorite blogs and yet again...failed to proof it before hitting enter. 

How many times can one use the word 'amazing' without sounding like a seventeen year-old air head?

This bitch needs to start proofing!

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A Rainy Day & A Huffy Ten Speed

It is freakin raining....again.  

I gotta say, I'm longing for some sun, some blue sky, some free time outside, but it just isn't happening.

I have a love/hate relationship with rainy days.  I always sleep sounder when it's raining, I love storms, I don't have to water the lawn, and by nature I'm an 'enjoy the dark' kinda person so I'm usually welcoming to this kind of weather.  

On the other side, I know I'm somewhat prone to depression so too much of a good thing simply isn't.   I also need to be active and rain seems to prevent that.

My main rainy day memory is a good one.  

It was raining on my tenth birthday, and my older sister gave me her brand new ten speed bike as a present.  I was beyond excited as I had been coveting that metal steed the whole week.   It was a baby blue (mens) Huffy ten speed, the coolest bike around and it represented so much fun and freedom to my ten year old self. 

I had opened her card feeling blue and found the key to her bike lock.   She wrote, "Geoff you already have the key to my heart, so I'm giving you the key to your new bike.'   I was so excited I raced out to the back patio to exercise the ownership which came with the small key.   I couldn't ride because it was really pouring, but I stood there practically stroking my new gift while the rain hit the metal patio cover-- so much fun at my finger tips...so much freedom, just out of reach.  

You might think that's a bad memory as far as the rain is concerned, but it isn't.   It was an integral part of that day so many years ago, and I guess it's a good life lesson.    It's good to have delays in life like the rain was for me on that birthday.   Maybe the rain makes us appreciate the joyous sunny days more than we would otherwise, and whose to say we can't find joy in the delays themselves? 

After all, I can still hear those very raindrops today.

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Lena Horne

Much like Daphne Moone off of Frasier, I am a little bit psychic.   Nothing major, nothing earth shattering...mostly inconsequential stuff that has no bearing.

This weekend, I kept thinking about Lena Horne on the Cosby Show and wondered aloud how old she was and if she was still singing.  

Odd huh?  Especially given she passed away yesterday.  

I'm not a huge Lena Horne buff, but I knew of her.   She was more of my mother's generation, but I loved her signature song "Stormy Weather" and read about her contribution to Civil Rights in the 60s and beyond.

In addition to her huge talent, she had a little bit of a temper.  Okay, a huge helping of temper when it came to civil rights.   During the war, she would perform for the soldiers, but the Military made her perform for the white soldiers first, and then the black.   On one famous occasion, when she returned to the mess hall to do the 2nd show, she saw the first few rows were full of white guys, and found out they had seated German prisoners of war in front of the black soldiers.   She flew into a rage and marched off the stage performing the entire show in between the dividing row with her back to the prisoners.  

On another occasion in the early 1960's, she was performing a show in the states and during her set, overheard a drunk white man hurl a racial slur at her.  She flew into a rage throwing an ashtray, a table lamp and whatever she could lay her hands on at the guy, cutting his chin in the process.   When the media caught hold of it the next day, phone calls letters and telegrams flooded in supporting her and she recognized the commonality of the black struggle for civil rights.

"Geoff, watch when she sings" I remember my mother saying with a smile, "she's known for her trademark snarl......the way she curls her lips when she sings....a lot of men still think it's attractive". 

Lena Horne had a smooth voice, both when she was singing and speaking, and performed well into her later years.   She was an amazing woman.

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Happy Mother's Day

"I think you're missing the silver lining here. When you're old and in diapers, a gay son will know how to keep you away from chiffon and backlighting." ---Karen Walker

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Kissing

I LOVE kissing.

For me, the kiss isn’t just a warm-up for the big event, it’s an essential part of making love.

Kissing is one of the most intimate expressions of desire, tenderness, connecting, and sharing two men can experience. It’s perfect for the beginning, middle and end of a relationship.

Have you ever been on a date with a guy, where there’s that electricity in the air? The night has been flawless. He’s funny, sexy, sweet, totally into you and everything is clicking. Then at the crucial time, he drops that teeny tiny bit of information that….”I’m not a kisser. Hope that’s not a problem”.

Crash and burn.

Okay, that’s not really the norm, but those guys are out there.--I’ve crossed paths with one or two of them over the years and you probably have too.

Kissing was always non negotiable for me, and I’m not talking about a peck on the cheek or one of those insane ‘dry kisses‘ either. When I’m in the mood for a kiss, it‘s a main event sport. I want a kiss so intensely powerful, so full of emotion it knocks you off your feet.

I want a tongues dueling, teeth clicking, stubble scraping kiss, so powerful you share the other’s breath as you melt away.

A kiss where everything, and every one, just disappears

THAT’S the kind of kiss I’m talking about.

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It's An Andy Gibb Kinda Day

Ever get a song stuck in your head?   For me today, it was "Shadow Dancing" by Andy Gibb.

I don't know where it came from, but it popped in my head and I haven't been able to get rid of it.

I had a huge crush on Andy back in the day.   Of course I was only about 10 when he was popular, but that still makes me ancient.   When I was in sixth grade I begged for his record after seeing him on tv and my dad said "Absolutely not".   Maybe it was the long golden hair....the flowing shirts or the tight polyester pants.......I guess I'll never know his objection to the youngest Gibb brother.  

Luckily for me, my mom did the shopping and she made sure I got it.   I listened to the whole LP over and over and over, and I still have it!

When I was reading some blogs recently, I ran across a posting on 'just a jeep guy' I think , (it was A Rad Homo) about Olivia Newton John on Glee and since I was in love with her too....maybe that's why Andy popped in my head.  

I had such a grush (that's 'g'ay / c'rush') on Andy and it's funny to remember all those innocent little gay boy day dreams I had while singing along to his record.  

Today I'm not so little or innocent, but I just added "Shadow Dancing" to my iPod because for me, it's an Andy Gibb Kinda Day!

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No Such Thing As A Stupid Question?

So I'm giving my psycho-sister a ride the other day, and things seem to be going pretty well.   I'm in a good mood, she's in a good mood....sun is shining and for once in a very long time I'm not repulsed at the thought of spending (any) amount of time with her in a confined space.

Then, she opened her mouth.

"I need to ask you a question" she stammerd.

"Uhm, okay"

"Is that ring a sign to other men that you're gay?"

"What?" I asked.

"Do all gay men wear those kinds of rings to meet other men?" she clarified.  "Cody, (her son, my nephew) has a friend who wears a ring exactly like that and we think he might be gay"

I looked down at my hand.  It was a regular ring.  Just a stainless steel ring.  Not big and chunky, no embossed rainbow flag or male symbols intertwined....just a plain freaking ring.  Yet suddenly, to this twit who has known me all her life, I am no longer a guy who has a job, pays his bills ....I am reduced to a club-going, on the prowl for sex homosexual, using covert signals to send my intentions and broadcast the fact I like dick.

If I seem cruel by my reaction to her question....trust me, I'm not. You've never met my sister.  This is the same unbalanced woman, who a few months ago was yelling I was nothing but a "fucking faggot", yet when she needed a ride, assumed I posessed a very short memory. 

"Yes Sherri" I was tempted to answer, "yes it is.  All gay men are required to wear these rings."  Instead, I just shook my head and said "No."

So as to the old saying that there's "no such thing as a stupid question"?   Wait til you have a conversation with my youngest sibling and see what you think.

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Time Travel Thursday

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