Monthly Archives: November 2008

Bike Cops Speak

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Since my Guide to Motorcycle Police Patrol Boots has been linked from two major internet sites this week — one that is read regularly by motor officers and one that is read by those who enjoy boots — I have seen the visits to that page on my website soar. Yesterday, I had an all-time high of website visits with over 3,400 unique visitors.

That’s fairly astounding. These visits have generated some email. A few message excerpts follow (names are withheld to protect the innocent):

Hey, man, for a non-bike cop you really know your boots! Thanks for putting all the information together. It’s helpful.
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I’m amazed and impressed. This is one of the best and most fair comparisons of motor patrol boots I have read in ages — and I have been buying boots and uniform equipment for [location] motor unit for years
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It is good to see the various listings of boots. It is helping us decide what to get for our outfit’s next major purchase
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Your video helped, but the quality could be better. Email me back. Our county could do a better-quality video and perhaps some of our officers could be in it. Let’s talk
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yes sir, officer! That sounds great!

An honest one, which I expected:
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…glad you admit that you’re not a cop. I hate pretenders
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Yep, I’ve never claimed to be something I’m not. I do, however, appreciate your hard work and thank you for your service to your community.

And here’s another, which I found a bit funny though tongue-in-cheek:
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for a gay guy, you know your boots. Nice pics.
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Hmmm… “for a gay guy”… I guess that’s cop speak for thinking that “us gay guys” may not know that much about boots (or anything else.) I’m still scratching my head over that one.

Finally, this last one which I really appreciated:
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Interesting web page. I’ve worn Dehners for years and until I read one of your messages earlier this year, I didn’t even think of getting Chippewa boots. I got a pair this summer. They’re much more comfortable. The other guys on my squad have been switching out, too. The Chippewa boots are just as easy to keep clean as Dehners, and don’t crack (like you said happens.) Keep up the good work. I have shared your web page with lots of others on a motor cop forum that I post messages on. You are helping more cops than you may realize. [sent by a Sergeant in a motor unit in California].
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Buckaroo Booted At The Office

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I bought a pair of 17″ genuine Olathe buckaroo boots when a buddy and his partner took me to Kleinschmidts Western Wear in Higginsville, Missouri, this past July. I had gone to Kansas City for a business trip. This Western Store, right off of I-70, is quite a ways away from the city, but a nice drive. The boots have a blue shaft, black foot, pull holes, fake mule ears, a 2-1/2″ (6.3cm) riding heel and a smooth all-leather sole. They are fully leather lined, so they keep my feet and legs warm, especially on cold days.

When you get a pair of real cowboy boots like this, you want to wear ’em! And I have, around the neighborhood with jeans inside and the beautiful tall blue shafts showing. I have even put a pair of spurs on them, riding on the spur ridge as designed. The boots make quite a visible presence, and a firm, masculine, clunk when I walk in them. They are fairly comfortable when worn with thick socks. Their only downfall has been that the left boot had a nylon stitching thread come loose while I was wearing them the first day, and it caused a small bleeding sore. I melted the offending thread with a flame from a lighter, and all was well again.

Since I work in an office where “business casual” is the norm, I can’t really wear boots showing the shafts there. But I wear cowboy boots to work all the time, so these boots, worn with pants over, looked like any other boots on my feet. I enjoyed wearing them to work yesterday.

The only comment anyone made was as I entered a conference room for a meeting. A colleague said, “Oh, he’s coming” as I was walking down the hallway. When I entered the room, my colleague said, “I heard you coming … nice boots.” I guess that’s my signature — boot clunking down the tile floors.

A guy on the Metro on my way home kept staring at my boots. The train was crowded at first, but as the crowds thinned, he moved to the seat across from me. He then asked, “what kind of boots are they? How tall? Where can I get a pair?” He was impressed, and said that he always wanted a pair of boots like that, but wasn’t sure he could wear them to work.

I asked him if he liked his black wingtip dress shoes. He said, “no, but that’s what everyone else wears at my office.” I asked if there were a dress code requiring a certain kind of footwear to be worn at his office. He said, “no…” and I could see the wheels turning in his mind. I told him not to be concerned about following the pack, and be his own man. I enjoyed a nice conversation with a young man who just may become another Olathe Buckaroo cowboy boot-wearing office worker in Washington, DC.

Why Not Protest?

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Over this past weekend, there were gay rights protest marches held around the country, including one at the U.S. Capitol in Washington, DC. The purpose of the protests was to express anger that California voters were persuaded to vote for Proposition 8 by a heavy influx of money for advertising from the Mormon Church and other conservative religious groups. California Prop 8 put a ban on marriage between two men or two women into the state’s constitution.

There are many who say that it is unfair to have “our” civil rights put into a state’s constitution. But nobody said it was unfair to include civil rights for racial and gender equity into state constitutions. I just don’t abide by this double-standard and this argument has never passed muster with me.

You know, gay people tried, but just couldn’t get their act together. The opposition was better funded and better organized. I know that hurts hearing that from another gay man, but it’s the truth. And unfortunately in politics in this country, money counts. Organization counts. Lacking either, or both, makes it almost impossible to win — even if logic and fairness are the issues of debate. People who don’t like you twist logic to their side. Even if they are wrong, their hateful, hurtful message is what most voters hear when advertised via the media using tons of money. And being politically active at the local level, I can affirm that most voters don’t know anything about the issues, and some only begin to look for information just before they cast their ballot. By then, it is often too late.

We have to face it, with the last eight years of political polarization fostered by the outgoing Administration led by the worst President we’ve had since RR, there are many people out there who just hate gay people. They won’t listen, and they won’t consider that marriage can be a civil matter and not harm their religious beliefs. They claim to be filled with Christian love for others, but demonstrate their hypocrisy in how they act. I pity those people — I don’t hate them. They’re too stupid to hate.

I met my partner on an LGBT march — “The March On Washington” — in April, 1993. Hundreds of thousands of people representing the huge diversity of the LGBT community participated. It was organized for many months in advance. That march has a very special meaning in our lives. I asked my partner why we wouldn’t consider going to one of the events this past weekend, and his answers were pretty much on target with my thinking, as well.

The main problem is that LGBT people have been asking for too much too fast. It is a HUGE shift for many people to go from keeping gays in the closet and pretending that they don’t exist to allowing two men or two women to get married. My partner has long advocated for taking “baby steps.” In the racial civil rights movement, well-organized activists moved through the process for many years, one step at a time. And there wasn’t the “complication” of racial civil rights having anything to do with religion.

Further, this past weekend’s protest was organized last-minute, so there wouldn’t be much of a crowd to make much of a difference. Local TV news reported that about 1,000 people showed up at the U.S. Capitol. Heck, on any sunny day of the year, it is common for more than 1,000 people to be on the Mall and milling about the grounds of the Capitol anyway. What probably kept crowds down was that there was a major meeting of world leaders for a global financial summit going on in DC also this past weekend, and roads were blocked and security was tight. Locals know that when things like that are going on, it’s best just to avoid going into the city.

I want to marry my partner and enjoy the same benefits under the law that man-woman married couples have, and have our relationship recognized by our state. However, I agree with my partner that we should go for “baby steps.” The chant, “marriage equality now!” has not worked. In fact, I think it has backfired. It’s scaring off people on whom we need to depend for support. We have to re-think our strategies as LGBT people, or continue to suffer failure.

In Maryland this year, I’ll be gently and quietly working with my elected officials to advocate for more advancements of civil recognition of our relationship, and support a strategy of incremental steps from there. We have already begun — two hearts, families, friends, co-workers, colleagues, critics, local and state elected officials… it goes on from there.

Last Ride of the Season

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As my loyal blog followers know, I am an avid motorcyclist. I love riding my Harley. I enjoy riding in groups. It’s safer and more fun to ride with others.

Today I led a ride that went in a circular route through some untraveled, rural areas of Central Maryland. I have to be honest, if I weren’t responsible for leading the ride, I probably would not have gone on it. Yeah, call me a “wuss” but when it’s cold and really windy, then riding isn’t quite something I look forward to doing. But I made a promise to lead this ride, and I always fulfill my promises.

It was quite windy and never got any warmer from the chilly 44°F (6.7°C) ambient temperature. Add the wind at our speed, along with some strong gusts, and the wind chill temperature was at least 29°F (-1.7°C) or colder. Brrrrr! I wore my LAPD full leather breeches and my H-D Police Enforcer boots, a long-sleeved t-shirt, long-sleeved leather shirt, and my motocross jacket on top of all that. Warm gloves helped, too — though on my way home, I had to stop to put on even warmer gloves because my fingers were going numb. I had on a “throat coat” neck warmer, which when tucked inside my full-face helmet, kept me nice and toasty. My body never got cold at all.

The cold and wind didn’t deter nine others from joining me on the ride along our beautiful Maryland byways. We rode for a couple of hours, then some of us had lunch after the ride to warm up while others returned home.

When I got home, I found that my partner had mowed the front lawn, and was waiting for me to finish the sides and the back. Okay, no problem. I picked up the remainder of the fallen leaves, too.

After that, I went to the University for an hour to swim. I need to pick up on my exercise since the outdoor gardening and lawn work has also been completed for the season. I have to get my exercise somehow. Swimming works best for me, and in a heated pool, helped thoroughly re-warm my chilled body.

A nice day! But I’m sure that I will sleep soundly tonight!

Patience Pays Off

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If I have learned anything in my 15+ years with my partner, is that patience with him when he becomes stubborn eventually results in things working out.

When I got my new Harley at the end of May, my partner pitched a fit about the new bike being so much bigger than my old one, and that he couldn’t park his car in our garage because there wouldn’t be enough room if the bike were parked against the back wall where the other one had been parked when I had it.

When I built the house, I intentionally built a garage that was 5′ (1.6m) wider and 6′ (2m) deeper than standard. Our garage has always been able to accommodate my truck, my partner’s sedan, and my old Harley.

But Mr.-insists-that-it-won’t-fit would not permit me to even try to park my new bike against the back wall. He wouldn’t hear of it. I know when he gets like that, just to let it go. (A word that my family uses for this condition is “testadura” — hard headed.)

So all summer, I parked the Harley in the bay where my truck went, and left my truck in the driveway.

Well, eventually my partner re-thought his position, and we had a calm conversation about it this past week. He agreed that if we re-arranged some things, including some shelving and storage, that perhaps we could return to keeping all three vehicles in the garage.

So that’s what I did this afternoon. I built some more shelves, took down some others, and reorganized everything so there is room for what we have to store in the garage, plus the Harley, plus our two vehicles. Now it all fits. Best yet, we got rid of some junk that just had to go, and had been accumulating.

With time, patience, and a cool head, I’m happy that everything worked out as I had hoped. I won’t have to scrape frost, ice, or snow off of my truck this coming winter. My Harley will be warm, dry, and secure, yet available when the weather is suitable for a winter ride.

I have learned that when this “testadura” characteristic is demonstrated — either by my partner or some others (perhaps in my family sometimes or with others in the community with whom I meet)… to step back, take a deep breath, and let it go for a while. Revisiting later may produce a better, more optimal result. Fighting about it certainly won’t resolve anything. In fact, arguing may cause the other person to become recalcitrant and refuse to consider compromise. So taking a pause, letting the fire cool, and allowing (in this case) my partner to think that the change in position was his idea resulted in a positive outcome for both him and me.

Life is too short to fight about stuff like that. I knew that if I waited quietly and did not push matters, that eventually, things would turn around. They did. He’s happy, I’m happy, and life is good.

Oh Brother, It’s My Brother

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Guest blog written by BHD’s Twin Brother

Hi, it’s a pleasure to have been invited to be the first guest blogger for my brother, BHD. Just call me J.

I have been following my brother’s blog since it started, as well as the million other things he does. To tell you the truth, I can’t keep up with the guy. I have always called him “Taz,” which is the name of the Tazmanian Devil in the Road Runner cartoons that were popular when we were growing up. He’s always running off somewhere, stirring up a lot of dust. But he leaves the world a little bit better in his wake.

We are fraternal twins, meaning I got the looks and he got the brains. Well, not quite like that, but we have kidded each other like that for a long time. But what it does mean is that we are different. Often when we are together, people look at us and say, “you’re twins?” We really don’t look much alike. Our voices are different, too, but when we are together, we complete each other’s sentences sometimes. It’s weird that my lil’ bro’ knows exactly what I am going to say, and how I plan to say it. What’s even more scary is that he knows what I’m thinking.

I call him my ‘lil ‘bro because he is so short — six inches shorter. But I am 193cm (six foot, four inches for people who still use that backwards measurement system in the U.S.) But he will not let me forget that he was born right before I was, so he and all of our siblings still pinch my cheeks and call me the baby of the family. I hate that….

I have been working and living in Europe for most of my adult life. It is different, but rewarding. I met my wife over here, and we were married last year in Italy. Of course, my ‘lil ‘bro in his boots was my best man. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oh — speaking of that — let me say publicly that I am NOT the Imelda Marcos of shoes as my brother is the Imelda Marcos of boots! But that is again where we are different. He likes boots — he always has. It is as he says on this blog, “the way he is.”

What I want for my brother is that he continue to enjoy his life, and continue to offer fulfillment of needs he sees in the community, and with our family and his friends. That he lives comfortably with his life-mate partner, who is a great guy and asset to my brother’s life. He keeps him grounded (else he would go flying off on yet more activities and tangents.) I want him to live free of discrimination and injustice — as happened to him as recently as this week. We must remain open and accepting of our gay family and friends, and value the contributions and benefits we receive from them. Heck, he wants to marry his partner, and I’m all for it! I think it’s a great thing! Why this world has to be so narrow-minded is beyond me. But I’ll leave the political work to “my ‘bro the ‘pro.”

I am impressed with all that my brother does, but I will not go into more detail here. I don’t want it to go to his head. But what I want to say is that I love him very much, and always have. He is thoughtful and kind, warm spirited and more loyal than a Boy Scout. His energy and zest for life is uplifting and endearing. If you are fortunate to have him as a friend, you will know what friendship really means. He shows it in all he does, as he does with me and our other siblings and family.

I love you, you big bad biker dude! Keep the rubber side down, and your heart set on all the right things, as you have it. I continue to be amazed by you! So, ‘lil ‘bro, how’d I do? You never thought I would write a guest blog, did you?

Boots at the Office

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I have been enjoying a wonderful email dialogue with an intelligent, insightful guy who, like me, appreciates boots. He works in the banking industry. He has said that he does not get to wear boots to work very often because it would not be well tolerated. He says that he wears boots to work occasionally on casual Fridays, or sometimes when he knows he will not be meeting with upper management.

I work in a management position in professional business setting, yet I only wear boots to work (and everywhere else). Seriously, I don’t own a pair of shoes or sneakers. Do I have something against shoes or sneakers? Not really (except that shoes/sneakers are absolutely not acceptable for use while operating a motorcycle). I just don’t like that kind of footwear. I think they look funny, frumpy, and personally I would feel extremely uncomfortable. My discomfort would be more from emotion than from actual foot pain, but the emotional pain would be severe.

I’m not quite sure why I feel that way. I guess it is just because of how I am wired. I was just born to be a Bootman. My twin brother got the shoe genes — and he and Matt Lauer (who is reported to be quite a shoe-fiend) would probably be in competition if they compared closets. While I don’t have much of a competitive spirit, I guess my 136+ pair boot collection would qualify to compare with some of the most prolific Bootmen I’ve come to know or observe who participate on hotboots.com.

This dialogue also caused me to think about my choice of where to work. Would I choose to work at an employer that had restrictions on what I could wear on my feet, either by written policy or internal peer pressure? I reflected on when I changed jobs a few years ago. Where was I applying? When I had four successful interviews and was offered a job at all four employers, I was elated. But I also really wonder if I rejected at least two of the employers because the dress code was much more formal than I was comfortable with. The job duties were #1, the commute was #2, the pay was also up there in strong consideration, but I have to say that the dress code was strongly considered as well. I just don’t think I would be happy being forced to wear a suit or shirt & tie all day, not to mention shoes instead of boots. If I were unhappy and uncomfortable at work, I would be unproductive. I am much more productive when I have the freedom to be creative, and express myself as I am, within limits that I consider to be reasonable.

A funny aside — when I began working in my first professional non-acacemic position in 1987, that employer had a fairly strict dress code. Shirt and tie was required every day, and wearing a jacket at meetings was written policy. But there wasn’t anything in the dress code about footwear. So there I was in a suit and boots. Sometimes the old fuddy-duddies around me might say something, but I just ignored it. If my boots were shined and weren’t outrageous (with x-toes or extremely underslung, high heels), we just lived with the fact that I wore boots, period. Eventually, like most employers did during the 90s, the dress code was slowly relaxed. The jacket was shucked, the tie became less of a menace. But the boots always remained.

My buddy said that “most people who I know professionally are always taken aback when they see me outside of work and I’m in boots, Wranglers and a belt with a buckle. Sometimes people get used to seeing colleagues in a certain situation and don’t stop to think that someone’s job doesn’t necessarily define who they are as a person outside of work.”

He is absolutely right. And let me tell ‘ya, I’ve seen photos of my buddy in his boots & Wranglers, and he’s definitely a HOT man! Woof!

While I very seldom see people with whom I work outside of the office, I don’t think they would react as my friend’s colleagues may react, because the guy (me) that they see at work is pretty much the same guy they would see outside the office. A guy dressed in clean but casual clothes, and boots. Now if they saw me all decked out in leather, that might be a different story. (smile).

Life is short: Wear your boots!

Happy Birthday, My One and Only

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A shout-out loud and clear to my partner, my best friend, my one-and-only:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

November 12 marks a very special day in your life, and I’m here to celebrate it with you!

Words can not express the depth of my love for you. Today, and on all days, I wish you only the very best. And I’ll show ‘ya at home later! Guido’s guidance will help me produce yet another culinary Italian masterpiece from our chef’s kitchen to tantalize your taste buds. And I have just the outfit in which to serve it to you!

From an e-card that I sent to you:

Today, you are a little wiser,
truer to yourself,
and more confident and comfortable than you were the year before.

You are stronger and deeper on the inside because of the experiences life has given you,
and softer around the edges because of the things
you have let go of along the way.

You are clearer about your dreams and your purpose…

…and richer because of the laughter, love, and friendship you have shared.

And the gifts you have gathered just make you all the more beautiful.

From my heart of hearts to my man of men, I LYAWM!

No Room at the Inn

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There’s a serendipitous convergence of timing between the dates when Mid-Atlantic Leather Weekend (January 16 – 18, 2009) will be held and the inauguration of the next President of the United States (January 20). According to news reports, the inauguration and its related parades, parties, and balls will attract the largest crowds that Washington, DC, has ever seen. Ever. That’s a lot of people!

Hotels have been booked solid for months. The few rooms that were available last week have been booked for two to five times as much as they ordinarily go for. I kid you not, there are some rooms that have been reserved for over $12,000 a night, with a four-night minimum.

Even the sleazy, run-down hotel that serves as the host of MAL is getting into the act. While they did guarantee rates for those who made reservations long ago, they are throwing MAL attendees out no later than the 19th to accommodate people who will pay five times as much for a room there.

With as crazy as it has been in finding a hotel room in the city, much less anywhere within 50 miles, people have been calling friends and family who live here asking if they can stay. We’re no exception.

Yesterday, I heard from someone I met at a conference ten years ago, but haven’t heard from since. He actually had an interesting angle, and at least was honest in that he acknowledged that we had not kept in touch, “but that wouldn’t stop us from renewing our friendship.” I have also heard from four cousins, two other more distant family members, and about a dozen friends. “We’re happening to be in Washington on January 19 (or 18, or 17…)… we’re wondering if we can crash at your pad — just a couch is fine. Nothing special.”

Then there are the guys with whom I have exchanged email over time and who have recently contacted me again. They begin with friendly banter, then ask, “I’m coming to MAL and can’t get a room. Can I stay with you?” Most do not realize that I do not live in the city and it takes a bit of doing to get there from where I live. Traffic will be a nightmare around inauguration time, and I’m sure the Metro system will be crowded, too. It’s not like you can walk out our front door and be in the city in a few minutes.

To all: thanks for your interest and renewed friendship and camaraderie. Sorry, only my twin brother has a “no-reservation” reservation for our guest room, and that’s it. My partner and I are planning to “nest” during that time, since we will be off work. We can see the parade and swearing-in much better on TV anyway — so can you. Sure: celebrate, enjoy, have fun. Sorry we will not be able to accommodate anyone else.

And if it gives you a little insight into me as a person: I was asked if I wanted a ticket to an inaugural ball. I declined. I just don’t have time to polish my tiara. (Actually, I’m with my partner on this type of thing: I detest crowds like that, I can’t stand dressing up, I don’t drink, I can’t dance, and it goes on way past my bedtime. Events like this are not for me!)

Good luck finding a place to stay if you’re coming for MAL and/or the Inauguration if you haven’t found a place yet. I don’t think anything is available anywhere.

Movin’ On

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A note for readers of this blog and my website: I have removed some pictures from my website and about a dozen blog posts for a reason that I do not wish to say publicly. It’s difficult for all involved. I am torn between my firm belief in the right to free speech and expression (which includes non-risqué photographs) but also in not engaging in actions that bother puritans.

I figure that the person who started the whole thing is from way beyond where I live and has nothing better to do but to act as a “net nanny,” which resulted in pressure on people I know to communicate their displeasure with a few photos on my website which displayed an appreciation for a group. I am learning that the group’s national administrators do not want to acknowledge that a gay man can be an out and open part of the group for fear of harming their “brand”. Poppycock.

I anticipate that those who are involved with this matter are reading this blog, and this message will assure them that the actions have been completed as requested — and thoroughly (as best as I can determine). While I removed those photos because they asked, the more I thought about this censorship, the more I wanted to disassociate myself from endorsing the group.

I’ve decided that as a result of this situation (and this decision has been reaffirmed through discussions with my partner and my 8th brother), to return to activities for which I joined the group (that complained about the photos) and not pursue more active participation. I have plenty of other things to do than let this stuff annoy me.

Now, let’s move on to more happy subjects!

Three days ’til my partner’s birthday! Since his special day is in the middle of the upcoming week, when I have less time to work in the kitchen, I spent a lot of time yesterday preparing him his favorite meal: home made manicotti, raised yeast rolls, a well-balanced salad, and from-scratch, lemon meringue pie. I had the pleasure of treating him to a fine meal last night. I also gave him his birthday present early — a new LCD monitor for his computer — so he could enjoy using it while he is off work today and tomorrow.

What was funny is that he said that the best “treat” I gave to him was taking his old CRT monitor to the e-waste receiving facility for disposition. He can’t stand having junk around the house! I have him to thank for not having a house and garage full of stuff that we’ll never use. His rule: volume in = volume out. And he enforces it!

Just seeing him smile with his treasures and treats made it all worthwhile. He brings many smiles to my face each and every day, so I am glad that I can begin his “birthday week” so well. Happy birthday, il mio amore!