Monthly Archives: December 2009

Which Cowboy Boots Next?

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Okay, loyal blog readers, it’s time for another poll!

I am seriously considering getting one or both pairs of cowboy boots featured here. What do you think? Vote in the poll to the right and let me know. Thanks.

Pair 1: “Silvercreek” boot from Nocona® features a full quill ostrich leather foot and 13″ fancy stitched leather shaft. Leather lining. Supportive, handpegged steel shank. Pointed toe. Color: denim.

Pair 2: Justin “Bent Rail” buckaroo boot features a buckskin bay Apache leather foot under a fancy stitched 15″ sea blue cowhide leather shaft. Buckskin bay Apache scalloped, punched collar. Easy-on pull holes. Soft leather lining. Leather covered cushion insole and triple density insole board. 1 3/4″ heel. (Click on the image to see it larger).

Update: the poll I took from blog viewers closed on December 9. The results? 4 voted that I buy the Justin Bent Rail buckaroos; 11 voted that I buy the Nocona denim ostrich boots (plus one positive comment about them); 5 voted that I buy both pairs; and 1 voted that I buy neither pair. Majority rules! The blue ostrich boots have been ordered and are scheduled to arrive in January. (January??? yeah, January, 2010.)

The Masculine Gay Man

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Some of my past blog posts about gay men and masculinity, or masculine gay men, or even “if” gay men can look and behave in a masculine manner, continue to be among the most viewed on this blog. They are found when people use a search engine and look up “masculine gay men” or “how to find a masculine gay guy” or “can a guy be gay and masculine.”

I read a blog post dated November 6, 2009, titled The Myth of the Masculine Gay Man. In that post, the author describes some generalities and stereotypes attributed to gay men, and takes some criticism for what he said, as well.

I found the post interesting and consistent with some things that I have said. I believe that it is possible to be gay and to behave in a typical male, masculine manner. I’m just wired that way. There are other gay men who behave more effeminately, who dress more fashionably, who speak with a distinctive voice or sound, and whose behavior is more or less obviously “gay” and therefore, is more likely to be out of the closet.

I contend that there are a number of us guys who are not so obvious in our mannerisms and behavior to be labeled immediately by straight people as being gay. The blog contends: “The reason that homosexual men who don’t fall into the common “girly-man” stereotype do not come out is because of an intense fear of being excommunicated from their social group. Suddenly, once ‘out,’ they are no longer a man.“

I both agree and disagree with this assertion. I had been in the closet for a number of years, primarily for fear of reprisal where I once worked. That’s all behind me with maturity and a change of jobs where being gay is no big deal. There are other gay men where I work, and nobody treats us differently. Some of my gay peers are quite effeminate, and some are not. We all have a job to do, and that’s that. No big deal. I remain a member of my social group which consists primarily of straight people, because they compose the members of the committees, clubs, and activities in which I choose to engage. I do not self-isolate to participate in activities only with other gay people. I like to participate with people who share common interests — not “just” being gay or “just” … well… anything.

The blogger states further: “The typically masculine gay man has no category. He has no home. For him to come out of the closet is to take off a mask that no one knew was there. This kind of personal/sexual revelation makes people uncomfortable because they are forced to ask, Who else? To admit that gay men can be manly men — and not some effeminate subspecies — makes all men ask themselves, ‘could it be me next?’ “

I sense among straight guys who participate in activities in which I participate that they do not ask themselves, “could it be me next,” but rather seem to be questioning their own perceptions of what “being gay” means. I set a different example from what their previously limited exposure to gay people has been. I live in a nice home. I live in a stable, loving relationship. I have a warm and supportive family. I have a full-time job with a regular work week. I work on several local and state political campaigns and even chaired a few in the past. I contribute to the well-being of my community through active involvement and giving my time to help others. That’s just who I am. I am complex, and not easily categorized.

And that’s my point of this particular blog post: the masculine gay man is not easy to categorize. He has his interests, activities, home life, work life, and behavior as any other person does. He may not socialize only with gay people. He may not be the guy wearing a tiara in the next LGBT parade; in fact, he probably even isn’t seen on the sidelines watching. He may, or may not, be the guy dressed in leather at the next gathering of the Great Leather Clan. He may be seen presenting testimony before city or county elected officials. He may be playing recreational sports with friends on the local rugby or softball team. He may be involved with groups that do activities he enjoys. He may be at the sports bar during “the big game” cheering on his team, or hosting “the guys” for a poker and cigar night. He may be helping to care for older parents and loved-ones.

You see, to me, a masculine gay guy is first and foremost, a guy. He is who he is by how comfortable he is in his own skin. Being gay is not his primary raison d’être.

Gay men are all colors of the rainbow, and all have a seat at the table.

Life is short: be who you are.

Not a Practicing Homosexual

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A friend and I had a conversation the other day about some issues that continue to be brought up by certain members of my extended family and their hyperconcern about the fact that I am gay and yet, for example, I served as a pallbearer at a Catholic funeral for my aunt.

He said, “it’s okay to be gay and Catholic — what they get upset about is ‘practicing the act’.”

Okay, I get it. I’ll just tell them that “I am not a practicing homosexual.”

After more than 16 years with my one-and-only man, I don’t need to practice. [giggle]

Life is short: maintain your sense of humor, and if you are like me and don’t have one, surround yourself with those who do!

Tearful Thank-you Note

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I mentioned that we entertained a number of seniors and guests on Thanksgiving last Thursday. It was a lot of fun, and was not as much work as it may seem since many people helped. I remain particularly thankful to my partner, my friend “E” who did a lot of the logistical planning this year, and my family who helped orchestrate the transportation, feeding, and entertainment of our guests.

I am receiving a number of hand-written thank-you notes in the mail. It’s so sweet, and a custom seldom practiced any more. I’ve learned from a book that my best friend sent to me that Millennials (young people in their 20s) have an earnest desire to express what’s on their mind, so they think nothing of sending an email or a text as soon as possible such as a thank-you text for a job interview. Okay, I understand that better now, and will no longer think poorly of the method of communication and get to the bottom line: what was said.

I digress… I still value written thank-you notes sent in the mail. Doing that shows a level of effort — it takes work to hand-write a note, prepare an envelope for mailing, and mail it.

I received one such note yesterday that caused both my partner and me to shed tears:

Thank you for persuading me to join you for your Thanksgiving pot-luck supper. At first, I was reluctant, because I didn’t know anybody except you, and I wasn’t sure how I would feel.

Since my beloved husband died three months ago, this is the first Thanksgiving I have had without him. Our children wanted me to come to spend the holiday with them, but that would mean an airline flight and travel during the most busy period. I just couldn’t do that. They seemed to understand, though not seeing them and my grandkids weighed heavily on my mind.

You and your family warmly welcomed me, made me feel at home right away, introduced me to others, and made sure I had plenty to eat. I ended up seated next to [your partner]. He listened to me, held my hand, and was the most empathetic person I have ever met. What a wonderful, thoughtful, caring man he is. You are blessed to have him.

I never felt alone while I was there. I basked in the warm glow of joy when your niece drove me back home. I didn’t know a neighbor who lives in the building across the street from me until I met her at your party. We went out to lunch on Friday and had a great time shopping together. What an unanticipated benefit!

Thank you again for all that you do for everyone. I hear from a lot of people about how special you are, how much you are adored and loved, and why you deserve the praise you get from us. While you never asked for money, I have sent a donation to [our local fire department] as a gift in your honor.

Aw shucks… I am still sniffling. Thanks [P], you’re pretty special yourself.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Happy First Day of Summer!

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I originally titled this post “Longing for Melbourne” but have extended it in thinking that, truly, I am longing for a visit back Down Under. (Read all the way through and you will understand the title of this blog post.)

My partner and I traveled to Australia for the first time in March, 1996, to discover what the Sydney Mardi Gras was all about. We made travel plans a year in advance, and stayed in a hotel on Oxford Street, which is the main route of the Mardi Gras parade. I recall that we bought fresh fish earlier in the day from a vendor at Bondi Beach, and came back to our hotel which had a kitchenette. I prepared dinner, and my partner and I sat on the hotel balcony to eat and watch the parade.

Wow, what a show! We were very impressed, especially because they actually started on time and kept it moving — so unlike gay parades in the U.S.

After the parade, we went out in our leather and walked to the grounds where an all-night party was held. We did a lot of man-watching, and enjoyed the whole affair. Every Aussie we spoke with was pleasant, friendly, helpful, and gracious. We got back to our hotel fairly early (as things go), about 2:00am. When we arose and looked out onto the street about 9am, we saw several people still staggering back from the party.

We thought Sydney was cool, but to be honest, we found another city in Australia captivating — Melbourne. After Sydney, we rented a car and drove south. We stayed one night in the Australian Capital, Canberra, which is a deadly boring city — much unlike Washington, DC. They roll the sidewalks up at 5pm sharp. Honestly, we could find only one restaurant that was open after 6pm for dinner.

We arrived in Melbourne the next afternoon, after a breathtaking drive on the Hume Highway. That’s where I saw my first (but not last) mob of Kangaroos out in the wild. (Photo not from the road, but at a sanctuary in Queensland taken on another trip.)

Melbourne is a fascinating, wonderful city. It is laid out well, and easy to navigate. For me, that’s a big deal because I get lost in a paper sack. We stayed with a friend who lived in a suburb east of the city.

We took our first drive on The Great Ocean Road that runs along the southern coast, and were constantly amazed at the breathtaking scenery.

We learned that Melbourne has such a good public transportation system that we really didn’t need a car. We returned the “hired car” early, and bought day passes for the trains and trams. My partner is a “tram-aholic”. We rode and rode and rode all over that wonderful area, and saw many things.

The Melbourne Zoo was terrific, as when we arrived, an Emu greeted us and took us on a personal tour. I saw my first platypus at the Platypusary. The Fairy Penguins were adorable, both at the zoo and one night when we saw them in the wild.

We enjoyed a visit to the Laird, a local leather bar full of fun guys. They made us feel very welcome, and wouldn’t let either of us buy a drink all night. We met many very fine men who were very interesting to speak with, and nice to look at, as well.

Subsequently, we have gone back to Australia seven times. Each time we went, we would pick out a new place to visit, as well as return to Melbourne. We just love the place. The people are very friendly. The town is clean, well-maintained, and the public transit is outstanding in its huge service area, its frequency and affordability.

Regretfully, the last time we were there was in 2004. That visit included an absolutely unbelievable train trek on The Ghan from Melbourne via Adelaide to Alice Springs. Then we hired a car and drove to Uluru (Ayers Rock) then flew on to and Townsville, Brisbane, and then home. Right after that visit, my partner had his first of several surgeries on his hips. Now he is unable to travel by air. He just cannot sit in a plane for a long ride, even if we travel in the Business or First Class sections. Further, he was so humiliated when we returned from IML in Chicago in May, 2007, by being subjected to a thorough, personally invasive search at security because his prosthetic hip set off the magnetometer, he refuses to consider being subjected to that treatment by the TSA again.

As the weather chills here in North America, and as I see visitors to my blog from Melbourne and my blog pal Sue from Brisbane drop in for a check, my heart longs to return to that magical, wonderful country and its southern city of Melbourne with its great vistas, wonderful friendly people, and great things to do and to see. After all, today is the first day of Summer in Australia! Hmmm… I can imagine my gorgeous partner in a Speedo at the beach … but I digress!

My Aussie friends remind me that “your seasons are timed according to the astronomical calendar instead of using meteorological seasons, and are backwards.” But our Aussie friends excuse us because we are upside down and therefore cannot think as clearly as they can since they are on the “right” side of the Earth.

Life is short: keep the dream alive! Happy first day of summer to my friends and blog visitors from the Great Land of Oz!