Category Archives: Guest Blog

A Brother’s Observations

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Note from BHD’s twin brother (I go by “J”): I have hijacked my brother’s blog again, so while he said that “my regular postings” will resume tomorrow, I have changed that.

Brother:

When you called me from the hospital just a few moments after Aunt Lee died, you sounded stoic, but just about to lose it. I listened to you say, “don’t fly back; it’ll cost too much; Lee’s sons will be here; my partner is here with me; our other siblings who live around here will be here; I’ll be alright.”

Bull, brother. I know you. I could feel your heart breaking all the way in Paris, where I work and live.

I got on the very next flight that I could, and with weather delays and whatnot, I didn’t get to your house until midnight on Friday night.

Why were you shocked to see me? I am your brother, your TWIN brother. I love you. You lost someone who you cared for so very deeply, the least I could do was be by your side.

After you regained your composure from finding me at your door, and gave your partner some resuscitation (he was as surprised as you were), we rested. Then I watched you through the weekend, and here is what I observed:

* Your partner loves you so much. He was so tender, thoughtful, and caring in all matters and in all ways in what he does for you. He has the best ability to listen and to act, without even speaking a word. He can read you better than I can. He effortlessly guided you as you made arrangements for Lee’s party, knowing how forgetful you get sometimes. He was right there, reading your mind, and executing your thoughts. Gosh, I wish my wife and I achieve that deep level of understanding each other.

You continue to say, “I’m alright, I’m alright,” but you are not alright. You are grieving. Understandably so. You say, “she died quickly, without pain or suffering, and she was able to stay in her own home for so long with such a great quality of life.” Yes, that’s true, but you watched her die. That hurt. It had to hurt. But what I observed about how you were able to talk about her last moments is seeing your faith. You have deep faith that you called to strengthen you while you told Lee’s sons that their mother’s death was dignified and peaceful. You can attest to that, as you witnessed it. Your faith is deep, personal, and abiding. I respect it very much.

* You are strong and you held others up, but this is a big deal for you, so you need to let us help you and surround you with the love and support you need. Our helping you helps us.

* Your senior citizen friends love you. Their appearance at that thank-you party to hug you and to sing for us was absolutely amazing. But you expected that. What you didn’t expect was one of your friends showing up this morning on a ruse that she needed your help getting heavy groceries. Without batting an eye, you ran off to help — then found a whole troupe of singers right at the store, assembled to sing “Amazing Grace” to you. Oh gosh how you cried (I knew this was going to happen, bro’), but how much you loved it. They love you and demonstrated that by their public display of affection. (So don’t go bad-mouthing PDAs any more LOL!)

* You are seeking a way to fill a big hole in your life. Take time: listen, look, and feel. You will find your calling again. It will not be the same. It will not be as deep. But it will fit the character of the brother I love.

Thank you for all you have done, and who you are — as a man, as a brother, as a nephew, and as a caregiver. I am so very happy you brought me over to see Aunt Lee when I came home for Christmas. We had such a great visit, thanks to you. You truly have no idea just how much we love you, and are here to support you. You will have your tough days dealing with this… remember, I’m right here, in your heart.

I am sorry that I have to leave in the morning. Know that when I say that “I am there for you,” I always am. Always. Hell, I am your TWIN brother, and I cherish the man who is the best half of that egg that split.

Luv ‘ya, big guy. Hang tough, but grieve for our beloved Aunt Lee. She was quite a woman, and you are quite a man.

PS: I hope you don’t revoke my keys to your kingdom (that is, the access to this blog), since I wrote it after you went to bed on Sunday night so you will find it in the morning, then rearranged your other pre-written posts to appear a day later each.

Observations From Frye Boot Fan

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Note from BHD: This is the second of a two-part guest blog series from Frye Boot Fan. His previous post recalling how he got into wearing Fryes as a teen during the late ’60s in suburban Washington, DC, is here (link). Below, he shares additional observations.

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Footwear historians note that in turbulent and unsettled times (wars, etc.), for centuries, the unconscious trend is towards substantial boots, as they make us feel safer and more protected than foot-revealing, light-weight, low shoes. It’s all very psychological.

Look at that era, no more tumultuous or troubling times that I can think of in the 20th Century. As youngsters we lived in mortal fear of getting drafted and going to Vietnam, getting busted by “the pigs,” having to run away, or just let our “boot heels go a-wandering” at a moment’s notice to escape parents’ authority (e.g. the series of Kay Lenz hippie-hitch-hiker-girl movies, ‘Billy Jack’, troubled teen flicks, etc.)

Too close to home–remember the skies glowing red all night from DC in flames in the 1968 riots following the assassination of Martin Luther King? It was pure trauma to suburban kids–boots afforded protection.

Until Fryes hit the scene, really, the only alternative were cowboy boots. Those were uncomfortable and bespoke red-neck culture. Where I lived, those guys were pretty hostile to long-hairs like us. We dallied with surplus store combat boots for a while. Those were “cool,” but too grim a reminder of what might await us at 18–Vietnam service. Frye boots were just the right things at the right time for our generation. They were not hold-overs from any previous generation, not borrowed from another sub-culture–they belonged entirely to us. We made then culturally-charged icons, pure and simple, not a style with any stigmas to overcome like cowboy boots.

Dress has ever been all-defining. In the halcyon heydays of Fryes, for all of the propaganda about non-conformity and free-thinking, a more rigid and “uniform” dress code enforced by peer-pressure I cannot imagine than what we endured. Official public school dress codes mandating: neatly cropped hair, collared dress shirts, and prohibiting blue jeans, boots, etc. in the classroom had only just been rescinded in local junior and senior high schools in ’67 or so, and this new-found freedom began the whole sartorial “fashionista” trend for school kids–the excesses of which are now causing a return to dress codes in U.S. public schools (nobody I heard of ever got killed over their Frye boots, as some have been for popular sneakers).

If period advertising is anything to go by, the current chronology of Frye styles is messed-up it seems to me. Frye marketing claimed that the “Campus” boot came “first” in the “mid-’60s”, as a revival of some “1863” boot. I cannot find any ads for the “Campus” style until c.1973, even among the copycats like Sears, who only lagged a few months in ripping-off popular styles. Double H Boots’ website says they came out with their “Snoot Boot”(TM) (harness) in direct competition with Frye, around ’70-’71, but HH never copied the “Campus” style. The square snoot toe and harness, I think, came in first, but what year exactly? Some bloggers claim to have worn Frye harness boots to Woodstock (Aug. ’69). Is there a really a pair shown in ‘Easy Rider’ (1969)? Maybe we need to look more closely at album cover photos of the day. Others say Jim Morrison (d. ’71) wore Fryes to boost his height, but no reference to which exact style.

If my memory serves, the harness boots appeared on the suburban DC scene c.1970 at the earliest, and the Campus boot followed in c.1973. All of the Frye Co. ads I have found pre-1970 only show cowboy boots, and the older ’40s-’50s ads shoe just the “Jet” boots, all mail-order only. My theory is, Frye underwent some changes when they decided to wholesale boots to retail stores, and that this coincided with the new styles of the harness and later the “Campus”. The square toe harness style was quickly co-opted by long-hairs, and bikers, so Frye came out with the more clean-cut and neutral “Campus” style for the general youth market, by then trending towards bulbous toe shapes, thick platform soles and the straight chunky heels that reigned supreme during the Disco era. More research is needed here.

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BHD comment: My recollections about Fryes are the same as my Guest Blogger’s memories — we grew up in the same geographic area, and are about the same age. I recall comments about “only rednecks wear boots” and thought those slurs were part of an ongoing repertoire of commentary that was hurled at me by other guys who picked on me — typical grade-school bully stuff (though we were in high school at the time.) To me, I just liked to wear boots, and I did. I began back then to emerge as my own person, and with the encouragement of my family, I didn’t let negative comments make me change my mind about what I chose to wear on my feet. Plus, having strong ties to Oklahoma, wearing cowboy boots in Maryland was a way to demonstrate some pride for my mother’s family roots and my Choctaw blood.

One more word: I realize that about half of my blog visitors live elsewhere in the world, and do not know what a “redneck” is. That is a term for someone who works out in the hot sun, such as a farm worker. Thus, their neck would get red from sunburn. It was usually a term of reference to someone from the U.S. South, and in the north, calling someone a “redneck” was deemed an insult.

Frye-ography

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Note from BHD:  the following post was written by “Frye Boot Fan,” a guy with whom I have been corresponding lately.  He grew up in the same county that I did and during the same era, though we did not know each other. With his permission, I am posting his recollections of wearing boots in the late 60s and early 70s in the suburbs of Washington, DC, in one of the most wealthy counties in Maryland.

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Cool boots were part and parcel with bell bottoms and the urge to grow long hair, none of which my parents would tolerate until I entered junior high in 1969.  Junior High was a melting pot of diverse kid-tribes from several elementary schools — [well-to-do Suburb A] with Bohemian [Suburb B] and blue collar and collarless [Suburb C] — as diverse as the United Nations it seemed.  The “freaks”, proto-hippies in-training I fell in with; the “greasers” from the marchlands, plus the clan-less mass of collegiate clean-cut kids.  These three tribes were known as “click, soul, and rock-n-roll,” in reverse order given above, “click”=clean cuts, “soul”=greasers, and “rock-n-roll”=freaks.

Dress, musical tastes and overall demeanor defined one’s tribe, and there was no inter-tribal fraternization, especially between freaks and greasers, amongst who there abided the greatest animosity.  The “click” kids were seen largely viewed as potential recruits for both groups, though some of their more intrepid girls were fair game, dating into either tribe, but I digress. The “greasers” amused themselves with hot-rodding older buddies’ ’57 Chevys, wearing black leather blazers over white tee-shirts, or pastel yellow Banlon polo shirts; cuffed khaki trou worn too short in the legs, and black high-top “Chucks” (Converse All Star sneakers).  They maintained ’50ish coiffures with plenty of hair grease, hence the name I suppose.  They listened to R&B soul music music, and hosted the occasional chain-fight rumble.  Nobody messed with these dudes–bad news.  The “freaks” of course listened to rock, formed garage and basement bands, chased hippie chicks in all their sartorial splendor, and discovered pot.

As 7th graders we of course looked to the 9th graders for fashion guidance in everything cool.  They were two years ahead of us in hair growth, as they had fatigued their parents into accepting a level of hippie dress our parents were still resisting.  This was soon to change as the pressure for hip back-to-school wardrobes and plummage was overwhelming, and parents relented in most cases.  After assorted un-cool boots all my young years, the first cool boots I had to have were Flagg Brothers chocolate brown suede, back-zipped, pointed toe, 8″ Beatle Boots, with an instep strap and antique brass buckle.  These were pure crap, and only available from a Flagg Brothers store in the mall.  With all the walking we did, in all sorts of nasty weather, one pair was blown-out in three months, but they started us on the road to that loose-fitting, clunkity-clunk heel walking soon perfected.  The next boot du jour was a Jarman fashion boot, a pull-on, with a wide square toe, and likewise an instep strap and buckle. These came from a store at the mall too, and were as crap-tastically made as the Flagg Bros. fashion boots.  Snoot toed harness boots, Fryes and cheaper Sears knock-offs for the kids on tighter budgets appeared on the scene overnight it seemed in late ’69–or maybe for back-to-school in ’70-’71.

My first pair were Frye, sans harness, snoot toed, antique stained reddish-brown color, with an added leather 1/2 sole in the front, 3 tacks across the toe and a few at the sides.  These, like all my subsequent Fryes were bought at a Western Wear store in Washington, DC.  Why mom drove all the way down there I have no idea.  Now correctly Frye-booted, and in faded Levi’s “Big Bells,” frayed away at the back from being overly long and trodden under boot heels, from the waist down I was “cool” man! I recall Fryes cost $70 a pair then, a princely sum, so I only got one pair each year for back-to-school.  Consequently, we devolved a taste for beat-up Fryes, to match our beat-up everything else.  The 9D was too short, but the 9-1/2 D boots were always a bit sloppy on me, so the clunkity-clunk heel noise was accentuated. I ran the counters over badly, the heels down, and the snoot toes mushed into amorphous shapes after several months’ hard wear. For us nothing was quite so cool unless it looked like it was about worn out–brand new Fryes were the exception, but they did not hold their shape for long.  It amazes me how many vintage Fryes on Etsy and eBay today have managed to keep in such good shape, especially those snoot toes, as they were usually the first things to go soft.

In 8th grade pair #2, same again, but this time with the more dangerous harness–“Dingo Rings” we called ’em.  During a favorite pastime–dodging gym class by feigning to have no gym clothes–the coach chided me: “if your mom can afford those expensive Frye boots, she can afford to buy you sneakers!”  What an asshole he was–Fryes were cool, high top black Chucks for gym were greaser-gear.

The 9th grade was passed in the harness boot, but it was off to High School in a more daring saddle tan pair.  When that pair were about shot I experimented pulling the heels off and wearing them that way. What a rube. It was back to basic antiqued reddish brown harness Fryes from then on, some with the 1/2 sole added, some without, whatever the store had on the shelf.  After high school, more of the same.  By then I discovered that an spare pack of smokes would slip down in the leg for those long weekend over-nights, parties, and forays with some exotic “B-Town girl” or another.

It seems nothing great lasts forever.  My “last” Fryes were bought in 1977 for a trip to Britain, and it seems the snoot toed harness boot was being supplanted in local popularity, as well as the store stock selection, mostly by the dreaded “Campus” boot.  This pair was an unappealing burgundy-red, with natural colored sole and heel edges, all of which I over-dyed black.  After suffering shin splints because of the 2″ chunky heel, I had the heels lowered.  Other footwear was by then rotating through my young adult wardrobe, but that pair of Fryes held on in occasional wear, clumping through Austria, the Czech Republic, and the UK several times into the late 1990s.  I finally made a gift of them to a 20-something pal who was obsessed with the ’70s cultural revival and dress, and they are still going somewhere up in Connecticut. Interestingly those less than desirable broad blunt Campus toes, and the heel counters, held their shapes better than the 9 or 10 previous pair with snoot toes.  The latter crushed down and looked every bit like the Campus toe eventually, but it was the principle of the thing.  To me the Campus boot hinted of Disco music/culture (I deplored) and platform shoes, and they had none of the danger or cache of the harness with snoot toe in ’70.  Levi’s stopped making those “Big Bells” by 1980, too, and I even cut my hair off short, at shoulder-length, and had it layered.  What were we thinking?

The final chapter–I chanced upon some ’90s vintage used Frye 9-1/2D harness boots in an antique shop in Pennsylvania about four years back, and bought them for $35.  Oh how the mighty had fallen.  The insoles were foam padded, and it took the heaviest socks I could find to even keep them on my feet, meaning they were cold weather boots at best.  They were finally gifted to my ’70s-obsessed young friend too.  Last week on my birthday my wife presented me a nearly-new pair of saddle tan, 15″ Campus Fryes, “Black Label”, and I’ve been clunkity-clunking all over the house ever since, and scoping Etsy and eBay for some antiqued brown harness boots with snoot toes.  The Campus boots still whisper Disco-era to me, and I need to go back to the headier days of Led Zeppelin, Zappa and the Stones, underground comics, and maybe some Levi’s big bells, if I can find them in 33 waist now.

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Frye Boot Fan apologizes that the photos of him do not show him in his Fryes.  Image blurred on purpose, to protect the identity of the guest blogger.  If you wish to comment, you may do so with this post, and he will see it, or you may send me a message and I will forward it to him.

Be sure to read “Observations from a Frye Boot Fan” — Part II of this guest blog series posted 24 January, 2011.

A Brother’s Wish

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Guest blog by J, BHD’s Twin Brother

My wife and I had an argument recently — where to spend Christmas.  We live in a little flat in Paris, France, where we work.  Last year, we went to visit my brother, BHD, and see the family.  I wanted to go back this year.  My wife wanted to go to St. Tropez on the French Riviera, instead, and spend some time with two of her siblings who were also going to be there for Christmas.

Sure, it would be nice to take a holiday on the Riviera, but it’s cold this time of year and it is extremely expensive.  I very much want to come home to see my family and have an old-fashioned family Christmas.

What to do?  I called my brother, and he listened, but didn’t try to tell me what to do.  Sometimes I just need someone to listen, and my brother does that very well for me.

Our flat was very quiet for several hours.  The tension was high, and my wife and I both were feeling uncomfortable for having disagreed.  After a few hours, I gently knocked on the bedroom door to apologize.

No sooner had I said, “I’m sorry” than she showed me a printout confirming that she bought two airline tickets for us to come to Washington on 23 December.  She told me how much she enjoyed our family, and the casual, friendly, and fun atmosphere. She said how welcome she felt in my brother’s home, and enjoyed spending time with my sisters.  I think as she reflected back on our visit last year, she thought more about it and how much she would like to return — as much as me!

WE ARE COMING HOME FOR CHRISTMAS!  Whoopie!  Can’t wait!  (Bro, don’t worry, I’ll bring my leather pants — you can provide the boots!)

Boots and Breeches: Looking Good on a Motorcycle

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A note from BHD: the following guest blog post was written by a friend who rides a Harley and lives in Vermont. He’s a straight guy, quite witty, and has opinions that are similar to my own. I thought some of his recent email messages were interesting. With his permission, I am posting his comments below.  

Photos are of me, to illustrate the point, not of my friend.

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Everything old is new again. You are just a trend setter. You know looking good is not just a, for lack of a better phrase “a gay thing”. I think there may be a perception from some people that wearing boots is just for gay men and it is not.

I live in Vermont. We have had civil unions and gay mariage for so long here I don’t even think about how sometimes that in other locations that this kind of bigotry still exists. As long as you are not wearing your chaps with the crotch exposed with boots on your bike on the highway, then screw ’em.

Everything is retro. You know part of the the Harley experience is being an individual. Everyone’s bike is differrent. Each is customized to what the owner wants and every one wears what they want to in order to express themselves in the way they want. That is why you ride a Harley. Next time someone busts your balls about the boots, tell them if they keep it up, you will kiss them, I doubt they will say anything to you again. Include some photos of you in your boots in a biker newsletter. Maybe some other guys will ask you where to get some boots. Tell them that the women love them.

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… and from another message about wearing boots and breeches on a Harley, my friend said:

I am the only one around here to wear boots and breeches. My girlfriend has a pair of boots and breeches too. During the forties and fifties most everyone riding a motorcycle wore boots and breeches. As I said I do not wear them in the summer as it is just too hot so I switch to jeans but do wear the poly breeches if it is not too hot. I have to tell you, I really do not give a darn what people think.

I do receive a lot of compliments from women about the boots. They love them and I love women, so it kind of works out. Just again the other day we had taken a ride and were walking around a country store. A woman came up to me and said, “I love your boots.” I don’t wear breeches with a stripe as I don’t want to be confused with being an on-duty cop. If it was me and some one made a disparaging comment about my boots, I would tell them that I would just stick them up their ass to find out how they feel. Or you could just tell them to go f*ck themselves.

I would not get too self-conscious about it. Both Harley and Davidson wore breeches when they rode. Just look at some older photos and any old issue of a Harley magazine, and it is filled with riders wearing boots and breeches. They must have been on to something.

Coming Out

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Guest Blog Post by ‘The Cop’

I was invited by BHD to write a guest blog post about my experience as a police officer who happens to be gay, and the processes and trials in coming out.

I write it that way because I am a cop first. Being gay has nothing to do with it. I am a cop. I am gay. So be it.

It was very hard for me to be myself, although I have been a police officer for over 10 years. All of my fellow officers thought, naturally, that I was straight, interested in women, and such. In fact, for some social events, I would invite female friends to go with me as a date. No one thought the wiser … so I thought.

Then a fellow officer came up to me one day and said, “you’re gay, aren’t you?” I was shocked. I thought I hid it very well. I never once looked at anyone else on the job, said anything, or posted anything anywhere on the internet.

I gave him my best “cop stare” and asked, “why did you say that?” His response was informative. He simply said, “well, you are a very private guy, but after a few years, you just figure things out. That’s okay. I won’t ‘out’ you.”

My head was spinning. I was afraid about what other people would say. I had a reputation to uphold. I was in line for a promotion, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that.

I went home that night and began searching the internet for information. That’s how I stumbled upon BHD’s blog. He is respectful to cops and others. I sent him an email, and in that first message, I just asked if he knew any gay cops.

He replied, and said that he doesn’t give out other people’s information, names, or email addresses. BHD told me later that some people have asked him to connect them with gay cops for liaisons. I wasn’t interested in that. I wanted to know others like me who I could talk to.

He referred me to Blue Pride, which is an organization of law enforcement officers who are gay. I joined, and learned a lot. They helped me figure out how to maintain my integrity, and they helped me come to terms with being honest in the workplace. I mean, after all, we enforce the law every day. We demand honesty and integrity in what we do. I felt so torn that by keeping the fact that I was gay to myself (being in the closet) that I was lying to my fellow officers. I thought that what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. But then I learned that by hiding my sexual orientation, that a form of distrust was building among fellow officers. More of them had talked about me than I thought.

I communicated with BHD on-and-off for over a year about this. I am still reticent to communicate with others. BUT…

I approached the officer who first asked me about whether I was gay, and asked if we could have coffee after work. We sat down and I told him what was on my mind.

All he said was, “finally, you’re being honest with me and with yourself. Don’t you feel better?”

I was expecting something else. I don’t really know what I was expecting. But I wasn’t expecting such a casual response. Like, “no big deal.”

I then screwed up my courage and told my boss. Again, her response was pretty much, “so what?” All she was concerned about was that I was doing my job well and working effectively with my fellow officers, the chain of command, and the community.

I realized that much of my concern was self-developed. To the point of keeping me awake many nights, fearing the unknown.

Thanks, BHD, for being such a supportive guy. I appreciate your friendship, your candor, your honesty, and advice. What I appreciate most is that I can say whatever is on my mind, and you don’t beat me up for it.

I got that promotion by the way. But have things changed for me at work? Yes-and-no. Some people are more formal, or distant. Maybe I am over sensitive. But most people treat me the same. The expect me to do my job, and after knowing me all these years, they know that they can rely on me to help out and stay focused on our duties.

Now, off to fight the battles of law-and-order, honestly, with integrity.

Note from BHD: this blog post was long in coming. When my friend Kevin wrote me an email where he described coming out to close friends and gave me the okay to post a part of his message, that is what caused the officer whose words are above to send me an email with this guest piece in it. I never really know how my blog posts are received or thought about by others.

I wish my friend well as he continues to serve the public, and be himself. He has asked me not to give out his email address, but if you wish to write, you can write to me and I will forward it to him.

Guest Blog: Straight Guy and Leather Gear, Pt. 3

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This is the third and final post in this Guest Blog series which I invited to be written by a friend. If you missed it, read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

–BHD

My Perspective on Wearing Leather

BHD has given me some questions to help guide me along — an interview of sorts — I will attempt to answer coherently:

1. What is it about wearing leather that you like?

I like the way it looks. I like the confidence it represents. I like the way people react to it. It makes me feel good. Much better than a suit or a good pair of jeans. Wearing leather gives the impression that I don’t completely conform to everybody’s whims, and if you choose to enter into a relationship with me — whether it be business or friendship — you should not expect me to go along with how the mainstream may do things. The mainstream is more becoming screwed up!

People are more and more just becoming “Look At Me” copy-cat automatons incapable of independent thought.

2. What do you think about having an interest in leather and not having an interest in men?

I admit I think some guys look good in leather, but it stops there. Some guys look great in a good suit or a pair of jeans. It is possible to admire something without wanting to hump it. Takes some practice but it is accomplishable. Its called self control! Our society has too little of it these days. Is it possible to say, “that is a good looking guy” and not be gay? Yes.

Completely. And I am not deluding myself. I think leather is a wonderful material — supplied by God — I love wearing it and the way it looks. I have gained confidence since I realized that. Maybe psychiatrists should try making patients with low self esteem wear leather out in public. Hey, maybe I’m onto something: “Leather Therapy” LOL!

As I explained previously when I wear leather I feel confident. I like the way it wears. It is strong. It can be rejuvenated. All I have to do is imagine what I would loose should I ever indulge and my thoughts go another direction. There is a difference between lust and love. Lust happens all of the time. Its human nature!

We lust after people, food, and things. It is completely possible to control lust and keep it where it belongs just as it is completely possible for me to not eat half of a pecan pie in one sitting, much as I’d like to. Look: I have kids who depend on me, a wife who depends on me. Would I destroy or at least severely change their lives for a selfish indulgence? Sure it will make me feel physically great for a fleeting moment but it will destroy three other lives in the process.

So how do I get what I want? I don’t always get what I want. That’s what is wrong with society. Everybody is trying to get what they want and nobody is thinking about the lives they are impacting in the process. In the case of leather I just have honest conversations with my wife and it all seems to work out. Right now I want to get my ear pierced. She ain’t down with that. We’ll work on it. How many guys do you know who’s wife lets them wear leather to church? Mine does. She says I look sexy.

If communication is what it should be in bed then your sexual needs should be satisfied! I love my wife. I am not attracted in a loving way to other men, wearing leather or not. I use lust to make creative energy. Works for me!

3. Do you think hanging out with gay guys may possibly cause others to raise questions in their mind about you? How do you feel about that?

Yes, in fact I am a little surprised this didn’t come to the top of the pile right off. I’m always telling my son, “Son, you are who you hang with.” I’m not gay. I have known a couple of gay men through work. One of them was extremely insecure, and the other one was pretty confident. In fact, Rick, the confident guy was a lot of fun to be around. He wasn’t constantly second-guessing himself. If he had not told me he was gay I probably would not have known. Being Gay wasn’t the subject of *everything* that came out of his mouth, unlike the other guy. I found the insecure one very embarrassing. I would not want my sexuality questioned.

I think you can wear leather without people thinking you are gay. I have come across many many many masculine men in leather with their wife at their arm. They appeared to be happy. Probably because they weren’t sitting in a cubicle in some non-descript business but rather out enjoying their Harleys. After penning this out I will probably not find myself hanging out in a gay bar. Biker bar maybe, but not a gay bar.

So, if I may borrow the closing style of the great Blogger BHD: “If you like wearing leather, whatever the reason, wear it.”

The Good Book says, “What is life, it is even a vapor that appears for a short time and then vanishes.” Before you know it you’ll be 80 wondering why you never wore the leather you liked so much. Wear your leather. Enjoy your life!”

Note from BHD: I truly appreciate the thought and energy that my friend put into writing this series of blog posts. He said, in a way, it was cathartic for him to express himself this way. I sure learned a lot. If you wish to write a message to send to him, write to me and I will forward it to him.

I hope you enjoyed this series. I hope to have other invited blog posts from other guys on occasion.

And remember: life is indeed short! Get out there and embrace your passion!

Guest Blog: Straight Guy and Leather Gear, Pt. 2

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This is part two of a series. If you missed Part I, read it here. Enjoy!

–BHD

Embracing My Passion

I took a credit card and bought several thousands of dollars worth of equipment and leather hides. As a teen I did some tooling and I liked it. My dad is a very talented carpenter and I think some of his creativeness may have made its way into my make up.

The more I work with leather as a medium, the more I feel satisfied that I have found something that can be my true area of expertise. People would come to me with their leather-making needs.

I like the bald-guy leather look. Time to remake myself into what I actually feel and not what I think will appease other people. As far as Jesus, I think we have him figured out all wrong. Read your Bible! There is so much we ignore in favor of “church” which is not Jesus. Time to get some leather pants.

They were hot and they were too big so I ordered a smaller pair. They were three sizes smaller than what the tag said. I took pictures using a tape measure and sent them back. I got a third pair; they had a saggy butt. I ordered a fourth pair with side lacing; slightly too big but manageable. I wore them.

After wearing the side-lace pants for a week every day in the middle of winter I decided I really liked them! I wore them out … to Walmart … to eat … to a school function. I was afraid of embarrassing my 14 year-old son. He thought it was cool.

Some of the parents gave me weird looks. They were secretly jealous that they didn’t have the kahoonas to wear leather out in public aside from riding a bike.

I bought a leather vest. Three of them actually. One was too big. One was really flimsy. It looked hot on the guy modeling it but it was made really cheaply and I doubt it would have held up very long had I kept it in service. The third was just right. Great lining .. Looked good. It’s the one I wear every day and in pictures.

Next were the wrist cuffs. I have made myself ten or so that I really like. People look at me either with an admiring look or like I am a fetishist. Again, it’s my life!

Now for the big conundrum. How can I mix with other guys who enjoy leather for the purpose of promoting my products without being involved in the homosexual side? In my experience, which is very limited, most guys into leather are gay. I am not. I am happily married 23 years to my wife. We have two great kids (14 year old boy and 21 year old daughter, who is about to get married). While I think some men look really good in leather, it stops there. I would never indulge myself at the risk of destroying what I have with my wife and my family. She is too much a part of me.

We are entering this new stage of our lives together. She is very feminine but I manage to sneak some leather on her in the form of bracelets and cuffs and she really likes them.

Check back tomorrow for Part 3: My Perspective on Wearing Leather.

Guest Blog: Straight Guy and Leather Gear, Pt. 1

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Dear Readers: this post was written by a friend who I invited to write a guest blog series about his thoughts about wearing leather gear. He is straight, married with children, and has interests that parallel mine. Enjoy a series of great reads!

–BHD

Young Adulthood

First of all let me start out by saying that if this blog entry got out amongst my fellow Baptist friends I’d pretty much be finished! I’m not ignorant, I know it is going out onto the Internet, however in a somewhat anonymous fashion.

Since turning 40 two years ago I am finding that I really care less and less what other people think about me. I used to care a lot. I would dress to be accepted by my conservative friends; use language that would be accepted by my conservative friends, eat and drink in a way that would be accepted by my conservative friends … Notice a pattern? I am also a Christian and I would try and act in a way that would be a reflection of Christ.

So what happened? Simple. I started a little business making leather wrist cuffs, and I immensely enjoy it. I like making the stuff, selling the stuff, taking it to shows, doing custom orders…all of it. For the first time in a long time I really enjoy my work!

I think I have always loved leather. Actually I have but I didn’t know it. As a youth I was always attracted to slick shiny things. In the 70s it was anything satin. In the 80s it was vinyl and latex. I worked in a call center with no dress code and in the late 80s and early 90s I would wear latex jeans to work. I had several colors. I liked the way they looked but they were hot and sticky. I had not yet considered leather.

In my 30s I started noticing leather; but I wasn’t really into it. I thought a pair of leather pants might be cool to have, and I have always liked boots. In my 20s I was a deputy sheriff and I wore boots as part of my uniform. The boots represented rigidness and adherence to a code. When they get dingy you can shine them up and they look new. They stand out no matter what you are wearing. They represent order and neatness. I’ve always had at least one good pair of leather boots.

In my late 30s I was an I.T. manager for a manufacturing company. I was there for five years. I remember how I hated going up to that office every day and sit in that little room with no windows. I was making good money but I absolutely hated going to work. One day the boss came in and fired me. He said it was nothing personal he just wanted to try something different.

His choice didn’t really work out for him. The brain-child that wooed him into the decision to get rid of me only stayed a short time and left a big mess. I came out of it with the thought that I would never again put myself in a position where I could be fired. (Just wait for it. I am going somewhere with this.)

One of the things I did when I had the I.T. job is shave my head. I was getting a little thin atop. Bald was making its appearance and I liked the bald-goatee look. My boss told me I looked like a gay forest ranger. I didn’t know there was a stereotype there. It may have led to the demise of my job. Of course there is no way to know.

After loosing the job I went through a year of depression. Serious depression. I came out of it with the help of Prozac, and Vitamin D. I no longer take the Prozac finding that probably some good counseling and vitamin D was what I really needed.

I am now in a good place. I have decided that even though it is a little selfish, I am half way through my life and I am going to care less about what people think about me and do what I like. I am going to embrace my passion.

Check back tomorrow for Part Two: Embracing My Passion.