Yearly Archives: 2009

Homecoming

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Guest Blog from BHD’s twin brother

Hey, brother, I’m coming home! You know I enjoy my work and my wife and I love where we live over here in Europe, but it’s not home. I have always been like you — I get homesick from time to time. I miss you. I miss our siblings. I do not remember what our nieces, nephews, and great nieces and nephews look like. Man, you can’t get a burger in Paris like they serve at our favorite little hangout. You can’t call a five cent euro coin a nickel, because it is copper in color. While gelato is great, I miss ice cream from the place Uncle Joe took us all the time.

I’m coming home! I want to rent a Harley and go riding with you again, like we did last year. Go get lost. Try out your new GPS, and this time, avoid water hazards (smile)! Let’s ride to see the corn as high as an elephant’s eye. (Just don’t sing to me, please!)

I’m coming home! I want to visit with our family, and especially our aunt to whom you lovingly provide care. I want to listen to her stories, laugh with her, share with her, and love her — as you do. I want to play games with the little ones, see what the bigger ones are up to, and congratulate our niece on her big honor she earned last week.

I’m coming home! I’m going to talk sense into that partner of yours, and encourage him to ease up on the demands for home renovation projects. Sure, you are skilled and can do a lot of things — but you need to get out and enjoy life. Spend time doing things you want to do — and perhaps not as much (at least while I’m there) for what you have to do. I look forward to giving your partner a big hug and talking world economics with him. He’s so astute, intelligent, and interesting.

I’m coming home! Our birthday is in a few weeks. That’s when you will see me for a visit. Though I can only stay a week, spending time with you will be my birthday present. I want to see you wearing the present I got you (smile again). I love you, ‘bro, with all my heart. See you soon!

J

Where Was I 40 Years Ago?

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There are a lot of news reports and feature stories about the Apollo 11 moon landing on TV today. The moon landing occurred 40 years ago at 10:56pm EDT on July 20.

Back then, I was an eager 11-year-old who, like most kids my age, was fascinated by all things “space.” I had a model LEM (Lunar Module), and an Apollo 11 patch that I wore on a jacket.

Our family had been following news of the launch of Apollo 11 and its subsequent lunar orbit, then the landing of the lunar module on the surface of the moon. My mother let my siblings and me stay up to watch Neil Armstrong bounce down the ladder onto the moon’s surface and say his famous line, “one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.”

I read an article in The Washington Post about how to take photographs from television, limiting the strobing that occurs on TV. I took a lot of black-and-white pictures from our black-and-white television set. I remember watching the fuzzy live television beamed back to us Earthlings, and marveling at it.

I got to stay up long enough to watch the President speak by phone to the astronauts, then reluctantly went to bed.

The next morning I got up and developed my film. I printed dozens of fuzzy black-and-white enlargements which I shared with family and friends. I brought them to my father who was in the hospital. He smiled and complimented me on my photo development skills.

Where were you 40 years ago?

Summer Vacation?

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People around my office are gearing up for a major conference that our organization puts on. This year, it will be in a southern U.S. city. Without a rental car, I’ll be trapped at the conference hotel and wherever I can walk from there. I’m not looking forward to being stuck in a very expensive hotel property, but I don’t have many options… that is unless someone drops me a note and says, “let me take you and your boots away….” (LOL!) [If you write to me, I’ll let you know when and where I’ll be.]

After the conference, my office will be a ghost town as many will be going on holiday during August. A lot of colleagues are asking, “where are you going on your summer vacation?” They presume that I’ll take off during August like most others.

I am taking one week in the middle of August off work — for a “staycation” at home. My partner and I have quite a major project lined up for that week with contractors coming to do some renovation work in our home that I might be able to do myself if I had four months. Alas, as my eighth brother (AZ) keeps chiding me, “stop killing yourself! Hire somebody!” … we are. But someone needs to be home to keep an eye on things. So that’s my “summer vacation.”

A few colleagues make assumptions that when gay people go on holiday, they go to “gay destinations” like “P-Town” (Provincetown, Massachusetts, on Cape Cod.) Some have asked me if I am going there. Sure, I enjoy spending time at the ocean, but I’m one of those weird guys who actually likes to swim in the ocean, float on a raft, or go body surfing. The water up there is too cold for that. I have my eye on the Gold Coast of Australia… but that’s a different story for a different time of year, and probably won’t happen since my partner is unable to travel.

A few have asked me if we would go on a gay cruise. No way — yuck. Without offending the diverse Gay Community, let me just say that the clientele and what the cruises have to offer (destinations, activities, and food) do not appeal to my partner and me.

I resent that straight people assume that gay people always go to gay destinations for vacation/holiday. I’m just as happy with going to my Maryland Atlantic beaches or nearby Delaware, where I spent many happy times as a kid through adulthood. But I don’t like crowds — crowds of gay queens or crowds of screaming kids. When I go to the beach, I prefer late September or October, when the kids are gone (back to school), the ocean water is still warm, the sun and heat is not as intense, and the hotel rooms are less expensive. I can spend hours watching my partner laying on a beach blanket. I love just to gaze at him. (I’m still deeply in love with that hunky stud.)

I do have a few extra days of time off planned for the fall, for a very special visit with some very special friends. But I am the superstitious sort, so I won’t announce it yet. I don’t want to jinx the chances of one of these guys not being able to join us. My travel is already set, since the vacation time follows a commitment that I have confirmed for work.

I will concentrate most of my time off at the end of the year to enjoy Christmas with family and friends who live nearby.

Alas, I once had quite the wanderlust, and would take weeks at a time to travel to Europe, Australia, New Zealand, Asia, or Africa. But with the economy the way it is, and with my partner’s inability to travel, most of my vacation time is a day here-and-there where I may saddle up on my Harley for a nice long ride, or stay at home to get things done.

Life is short: make the best of it!

Wet Boots and Bike – Updated

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I can now completely validate that Wesco Motor Patrol Boots are watertight. While on a motorcycle ride on Saturday, the GPS merrily led me along on a road that appeared as a connection between two main roads. However, the road that the damn GPS led me on became progressively more narrow until we came upon a ford! Who woulda thunk our ritzy county still has roads in it with fords?

Heck, this would have been fun had I not been attempting to lead a ride with others behind me. Out I plunged, almost dropped the bike, made it through, along with one other. But the rest of the riders turned back, and I don’t blame ’em. What a friggin’ dumb idea!

Oh well, the boots performed admirably! Never lost my footing, nor got my feet wet.

Life is short: try to have fun, even if lost!

Update: My friend, Bamaboy, is a whiz with Photoshop. He created a revised version of this photo, just for me. It is below. I am ROFL!

Bulges and Breeches

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This Tom of Finland classic is also a print that I had framed and have hung in my home. It taught me what “flares” (sometimes called “balloons”) were on leather breeches. The flares were built into riding breeches to give the rider (of a horse) ample maneuverability as he rode his horse. They work well for operating an iron horse, too. I know — I have a pair and have ridden my bike with them a lot. They make very comfortable attire.

The rest of what this image inspires in thought remains for the beholder to imagine. And there’s lots there to think about, fantasize about, and admire.

Wondering: were other leathermen inspired to get breeches with flares by seeing this image after ToF published it?

More on Boots as Art

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This Tom of Finland image is titled, “A Man and His Boot.” When it came out, I got a large poster of it and framed it for display. Man, what a striking image: the hunky stud and a tall black boot. The equestrian spur adds a touch of class. I don’t know what I stared at more — the penetrating eyes of the blond hunk, or the boot.

Were other Bootmen as stricken by the image?

The Leather Brotherhood

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The Leather Brotherhood is the name of this drawing by Touko Laaksonen, the famous artist who was better known as “Tom of Finland.” This print was released in 1980, and soon enough it was appearing, well… everywhere.

The timing of the release of this print was co-incidental with my return from a year’s education in Europe. I was coming to terms with being gay, or at least acknowledging that I liked men and wasn’t interested in women for sex.

The strong, booted, leather-clad masculine image struck me. The guy on the right in the Muir Cap, leather jacket, tight jeans, and cowboy boots and the way he is interacting with the other guys in tall patrol boots captivated me. I found a large print of this image, and put it up on a wall in my bedroom. I would stare it it for what seemed like hours. The whole masculine, booted leatherman image was both a fantasy and a dream of what I wanted to become. At least in my male image.

I may not have the body or physique, but I have the boots, leather, and gear. These guys portrayed an image that had always captured my attention, and influenced me in my choices of gear and even behavior, in a way.

Have other guys been so influenced?

Dehner Boots as Art

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Pictured here is the classic Dehner Bal-laced Patrol Boot, from a photo on the website of a boot retailer (used with permission.)

I was speaking with Mike the other day when I placed an order for a pair of these boots for a police officer from France who is coming to Washington, DC, next week to attend a special international police conference. My visitor works in a major city in France, and wears short tactical boots on the job. He has moved up in the ranks and no longer rides a motorbike or goes on patrol, but his heart still is with the beat officers.

He told me that he has always admired the appearance of Bal-Laced Dehner Patrol Boots, and had always wanted a pair. We exchanged many email messages, half in French, half in English, and weren’t getting anywhere because my French is awful and so is his English. We discovered that we both can communicate more effectively in Italian, which is how I finally figured out what size he wanted, and what he thought about the appearance of Dehner Patrol boots.

Questi stivali hanno un aspetto di un pezzo eccellente d’arte. Posso scegliere di mostrarli nella mia casa piuttosto che li porti sui miei piedi.
These boots have an appearance of a fine piece of art. I may choose to display them in my home rather than wear them on my feet.

He told me that he has also seen this photo (to the left) that has been circulated on the Internet for years. It’s original source is from the Big Black Boots website. He said that he had the image reproduced and enlarged and is hung on a wall in his home. However, the quality of the photo is bad since it pixellated when it was enlarged.

Actually, that is how he began to communicate with me. He saw images on my website of my Dehner Boot Collection and asked in a very nice way if he could have a higher resolution version of two of the photos from my website. Usually I delete the original hi-res images from my hard drive, else I chew up memory. However, I had one of the original photos that he requested, and I sent it to him. He said that he had the image printed in a large format (0.5m x 0.8m) and is hung on a wall in his home. Wow — I never really thought that some of my boot photos would be admired so much as to have a cop from France want to hang it on his wall.

I look forward to presenting my new-found friend his new Dehners next week. Despite having plastic shafts, the boots really do look beautiful. I will be interested in meeting him, and learning more about his work and outlook on life. It’s funny how boots bring people together, and when they find out that they have much to talk about in addition to a mutual interest in boots.

Life is short: appreciate how boots can be art!

My First Pair of Boots

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There is a thread of responses to a question about when you got your first pair of boots, and how old you were when you knew you were “interested” in boots on the “Boots on Line” discussion board.

I replied to it, thinking back to the days when I spent summers on a family horse ranch in Oklahoma. I was surrounded by cowboys and their boots all the time. I got my first pair of boots at a very young age, and I don’t quite remember how old I was — probably age 5, wearing those cute little-boy boots that they made at the time.

I remember that a sister was getting married when I was ten years old, and having quite an argument with my mother when she tried to drag me to a store to get a new pair of dress shoes. I insisted on wearing my boots. At first, my mother tried to talk me out of it, but realized that I wasn’t going to budge, so she just dropped it. I think she thought I would feel funny wearing boots when everyone else was dressed up at the wedding reception. Actually, quite the opposite happened. I loved having my boots be the center of attention!

From then on, it was boots only. I spent most of my time “back East” where I live now from about age 10, only going back to Oklahoma for occasional visits. In my early teen years, Frye boots were all the rage. I clearly remember wearing Fryes in Junior High and High School. I know that I must have had some regular cowboy boots, too, but I think I wore ’em out or trashed ’em (or both.)

I remember being fascinated by watching some other guys in class who wore harness boots. Soon enough, I got myself a pair, and wore them almost exclusively. I couldn’t stop fiddling with ’em during class, pulling on the harness straps until they were stretched and almost drooping on the floor. It was kinda cool, in a high-school-kid kinda way.

At age 18, I had saved enough of my own money to buy my first motorcycle. Along with it, I got myself my first pair of “bad-ass” engineer boots, made by Sears. I remember a guy in high school who always wore engineer boots. I think he was my first crush, though I didn’t really know it.

Anyway, I can remember placing the catalog order for those boots, then getting the call that they were ready. I rode over to the local Sears store and picked up my boots. I tore the box open and put them on right in the parking lot. I thought “I had arrived.”

I still have those Sears engineer boots and most of my Fryes, though no others from my earlier years. Anyway, I thank my buddy Bob for initiating the thread on BOL and some fond memories of my own.

Hard-workin’ Old Chippewa Engineer Boots

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These “old Chips” (steel-toed engineer boots made by Chippewa) worked hard all day long on Sunday. The day began when I pulled them on at dawn, prepared a big breakfast, then paid a very early visit to a local home supplies store to get a few things, then my partner’s favorite K-Mart to get a few more things.

By 7:30, we began work on our home renovation projects. I was able to get more of that flooring put down in our upstairs hallway. It required lots of precise cutting at odd angles for the parts of the hallway that go around corners and over to an atrium that overlooks our lower level. Unfortunately, the tools required to make these cuts are in my basement workshop, so I must have gone up and down two flights of stairs at least 50 times. That’s okay, I can use the exercise!

While I was doing that work on my own, my partner was painting. He’s the painter of our partnership. He painted all of the baseboard and closet doors in our master bedroom. Seven doors and 70 feet of baseboard is a lot to cover!

We broke early for lunch. These boots clomped around on the deck while I grilled some burgers and veggie toppings. Then… back to work!

We called it a day about 2:30, and were happy with what we both had accomplished. It was such a nice day, I decided to hop on my Harley and go for a ride. I dropped over to see an elder bud who hasn’t been feeling well. I wasn’t able to stay that long, but it was good to see her and give her a smile and a hug.

I climbed back on the Harley and rode some more through some backroads and byways not too far away from where I live. These Chips loved the ride. I stopped along the way at a roadside vegetable stand. Totally without intent, the boots sunk in some mud while I was waiting to pay. The stand operator handed me a paper towel and said, “sorry about that. Use this to clean up.” I wiped the mud off my jeans, but left it on the boots (LOL!)

Off I rode toward home, with sweet Maryland corn, cucumbers, green peppers, and tomatoes in my Tourpak, and mud on my boots which dried and flaked off during the return ride. When I got home, my partner called me into the back yard. He was irritated with a couple of bucks that were trying to get to the bird food. I set up our motion-activated sprinkler which deters the deer quite well. And oops, the boots and jeans got a little wet in the process! Oh well, they got cleaned up a little.

I took the boots off and stood them up on a rail of our deck to dry in the sun. The boots deserved a rest, as did I. My partner and I showered in our two-man, two-headed shower, then relaxed in our hot tub. Following that, I put on some patrol boots and breeches while I prepared a steak dinner with fresh vegetables that I bought a few hours earlier. My partner loved them! (I wish I could eat corn and peppers, but they don’t agree with me.)

Life is short: work hard, then relax and enjoy!