Yearly Archives: 2010

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.

Flipped

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My brother and I got out our respective Harleys early yesterday morning and went for a “ride to nowhere” which we enjoy doing. Ten miles (16km) beyond where I live, we have many fine two-lane less-traveled country roads to explore.

Our practice is that when we reach a major intersection, we flip a coin. Heads, turn left; tails, turn right. Or tails, turn another way. Or heads, go that way… whichever… the point is, we’re out to ride and have fun.

Sometimes, we let that “twin thing” guide us. We would reach an intersection and whoever was in the lead would just turn, and the other would follow as if he knew it was our planned route. While I’m not much of a believer in mystery, I am convinced that I can sense what my brother is thinking and vice-versa — at least when we are relaxed and doing something fun.

We found a neat little hole-in-the-wall diner for lunch. We stopped for gas at a little gas station that still had a pump for “Ethel.” (Though it had a modern pump for 93 octane gas that our Harleys require.) We stopped for water. We stopped to watch a whole herd of … some large four-legged animal that I swore looked like Elk, but I know we don’t have herds of Elk in Maryland. We stopped to stretch and just admire the corn as high as an elephant’s eye.

By early afternoon, though, storm clouds were gathering on the horizon, so I set the GPS for “home” and we made it home safely.

What a terrific motorcycling companion. What a wonderful brother. What a great birthday ride!

Birthday

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Yep, happens every year just about this time. I am taking some time to share my birthday with my twin brother, to ride motorcycles together, to share joy with family and friends, and to rejuvenate my soul.

Unfortunately, a police-escorted ride to lunch yesterday didn’t happen, because it was raining all day. My partner arranged with some of the local police officers with whom I work in civic activities to ride over and take me to lunch. They were supposed to arrive on their police bikes and ride with me to the restaurant on a nominal “police escorted” ride. (Due to department procedure changes, they couldn’t officially stop traffic in taking lil’ ol’ me to lunch while I was riding my bike. But it was the thought that counts. I mean, how many guys get four police officers to take him to lunch?)

However, considering the rain, all four of them showed up in a large truck that one of them owns, and took me with them. That was nice enough. I enjoyed lunch with them and some other friends who joined us.

A family tradition is that the “birthday boy” gets to pick what he wants for dinner on his birthday. My tradition since I’ve been together with my partner is to request Maryland steamed crabs — nothin’ better (though I admit, I have to wash off the spice. Don’t threaten to have my “Maryland” license forfeited, since Old Bay is a mandatory requirement on Chesapeake blues. I wish my colitis understood.)

This afternoon, we’ll be pickin’ crabs and spinnin’ yarns and relaxing on the deck among the flies and the beer with the bestest brother a guy could have, the most best partner a guy could have, the wonderfulest sister-in-law a guy could have, and all the smiles one could ever want.

And to Tef and all my other English teachers: please accept advanced apologies for killing the language in the para above with the superest superlatives. I affirm that I wrote this alcohol-free.

BTW, my brother gets to pick his birthday dinner tomorrow. Since I am four minutes older, I have “seniority” and get to have my birthday dinner on my actual birthday, while “little” brother gets his own special celebration on the next day. That’s how my family has always done it — we each have our own special day and our own party as we want it. We were raised to be individuals, even though we happen to have been born on the same date. Our parents were quite thoughtful, weren’t they?

Life is short: enjoy it!

First Ride – Bad Ride

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My brother and his wife slept peacefully yesterday morning until after 11am. Even though we didn’t get to bed until 4:30am, I slept fitfully at best and decided to get up at 7am because I couldn’t sleep since my system is so conditioned to rising fully awake at 4am anyway. I read the paper, talked to my partner, and did some quiet housecleaning.

When J and his wife awoke, I had prepared a great brunch of home-made waffles, fruit, sausage, orange juice and coffee. We enjoyed catching up a bit. Then sister M came over and took J’s wife to visit some of our family while J and I went to go pick up his Harley rental.

The bike rental process went fine. Then J and I took off to pre-ride a group ride that I’m scheduled to lead next week. A pre-ride is riding the actual planned route to look for potential hazards, note the turns, and become aware of any possible problems or situations in advance of leading a whole group of riders there. A pre-ride builds confidence in that “I’ve been there before” and I can then concentrate more on the group when I’m leading it than on making certain I catch each turn.

This was J’s first ride on a Harley since he rode with me last August. He was a little rusty, but picked up his riding skills rather quickly after a few turns in a parking lot, plus some practice on stopping quickly.

Off we went… the first 65 miles were great. J loved the scenery and I enjoyed riding with my brother again.

We approached a turn onto a busy highway, which would soon be followed by a quick left onto another back road.

Unfortunately, the road we were on had a very steep incline as it approached the highway, then a stop sign. One literally was pointed to the heavens and then had to stop. Then accelerate quickly to join the flow of traffic on the highway.

No way… no friggin’ way. I lost my nerve, and almost lost my balance. J did, too. We couldn’t get the bikes going without potentially stalling or dropping them. Here we are, at the top of this hill, holding these darned heavy Harleys with our lug-soled booted feet, the bike’s brakes, and our balance. Gosh, one would think that after the same experience last year, I would remember and not do that to myself.

We realized that: a) we couldn’t go forward; b) we couldn’t turn around; and c) no way in hell I could lead a group through this torture. What we finally did was slowly walk our bikes backward in the curb lane until we got to the bottom of the hill and were able to turn around. Tuck our tales between our legs and go back home.

We got home safely and unscathed, if not feeling a bit sheepish. But that is what a pre-ride is for: to learn what potential problems there may be and avoid them. I will plot another route and J and I will go ride that some time this coming week, to make sure there won’t be any more problems like that hill again.

Life is short: know your limitations.

The Bro’s Arrival

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Last night, twin brother and his wife arrived. Or shall I say, this morning, just a little while ago… 2:30am to be exact. This post is actually going up “live” as I write it, then to bed…to bed… I’m exhausted.

J’s plane was scheduled to arrive early yesterday evening (at an airport on the other side of the Potomac River from where I live), but it was delayed leaving France. I was told it would arrive at 9pm, but we waited, and waited… with little information. Finally, we were told that the original plane had to return to France due to a mechanical problem that happened soon after it took off. They had to offload all of the passengers and luggage, find another plane, and put everyone and everything back on the new flight.

But wait… there’s more. My brother told me that they made all of the passengers go back through security, even though they never left the secure side of the airport. Oh brother… no wonder flying internationally is such a challenge these days.

I brought a book to read, which I had finished fairly early. I went to look for a bookstore, but by the time I thought to get another trashy novel, the stores had closed. I tried to sleep a little bit, but there was a Mom with a bratty little kid waiting for this same flight to arrive. The kid was cranky and tired, and instead of sleeping as his mother was encouraging him to do, he seemed to scream louder.

I had to wait outside the customs area, and there weren’t many places to sit down available. When I did find a place to sit, that’s where the kid was. There wasn’t any other place to go, as the restaurants and shops were closed.

I’m a zombie. I am only on the computer to find out the hours of the place that has the Harley that my brother will rent. I don’t think we’re going there the moment it opens, but it’s not open tomorrow so we’ll pick it up today, sometime.

Wish us a good visit, despite how badly it started.

Life is short: patience is a virtue. Sleep is better.

Not Another Poker Run

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It seems that when a weekend day may free up on my schedule and I look for a motorcycle ride to join, it always seems as if there’s a ride to a poker run.

What’s that? You ride to a designated meeting place. You pay an entry fee, which is collected as a charitable donation to the event organizer’s designated charity. You get a map of a route to follow. You ride the route, and as you go, you pick up playing cards. At the end of the route, you put together your best poker hand. Prizes are given to people with the highest-scoring hand.

Can you spell b-o-r-i-n-g? Sorry, I know there are a lot of people who like events like this. I don’t. I never have. I don’t play cards, anyway. But that’s beside the point. The point is to ride along a route with your friends and help a neighboring club raise funds for its charity. I get it. But…

I really prefer shorter rides without some gimmick along the way. I need to offer to lead more such rides, which is why I offered to serve as a road captain anyway — to offer these kinds of rides as a choice to our club’s members. So rather that bitch about what other people are doing, I need to step up and assert some leadership.

News at 11…

[An American expression for “check back later for more information”]

Life is short: lead when you don’t want to follow.

I’m Taken

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Having a website and a blog inevitably results in receiving the occasional email from guys who are interested in more than my boots or leather. Receiving such email on these rare occasions is flattering. However, they miss the note in my profile that clearly says that I am in a monogamous relationship.

I do not intend to mislead you — I really do not receive much email at all, and very few email messages making “certain suggestions.”

A few years ago if I received a suggestive email message, my first response was to say to myself, “what, this guy can’t read?” Then I thought about it for a while, and realized that most read a few pages, and do not see the pages that describe my relationship. Nowadays I reply to say, “thanks, I am flattered, but I’m ‘taken’.”

I enjoy camaraderie with lots of people. I enjoy exchanging email with people from all over the world. I learn a lot. I appreciate the comments and different ways of thinking. But that’s my limit: no clandestine meet-ups, no traveling to meet other men, no playing around behind my partner’s back… none of that.

Yep, I’m taken. I remain in love with one man. Bound by our hearts, we continue to make bootprints of our journey.

Life is short: love is sweet.

Oh Doo-Doo!

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I was served a subpoena to appear in court yesterday as a witness in a civil matter between two neighbors who are in dispute about, of all things, doggy doo-doo. Oh cripes! Thus the challenge of being a community leader. I feel great regret that I wasn’t able to encourage these neighbors to resolve their issues civilly between themselves without having to have a judge do it for them.

On came my dressy Nocona blue full-quill ostrich boots with a pair of dress pants, dress shirt, and a “spot” of leather — my maroon leather tie. Damn it was hot! Choking in that noose made me sweat a lot — but because I had to do a quick 10-block trip to a drug store to get medicine for “Dog A” which was present in court as “evidence” (seriously, I kid you not!) “Dog A’s” owner is disabled, and the doggy was suffering an asthma attack because the air quality was poor. I couldn’t let “Dog A” suffer so badly, and if getting a children’s antihistamine would help relieve it’s symptoms, off I marched in the heat to get the drug. It actually worked!

One of my friends is a local police officer. I griped a bit about this court date with him a few days ago. He told me stories about appearing in court on both civil and criminal matters that made my head spin. I don’t know how cops have the patience to deal with all the dumb stuff that some people do. My short court visit is nothing compared with what he has to do on a regular basis for his job. So I’ll quit my bitchin’.

Civility in today’s society is lost. People are quick to yell, scream, and behave like total and complete idiots — then file a civil complaint for a judge to decide. Such a waste of time for the judicial branch of government. I am so sad. We have to be better than this.

However, that is one reason why I refrain from posting much about politics on this blog or on my Facebook page or other non-political forums. Some people have opinions that oppose my own views. They’re entitled, but the vehemence with which they voice their opinions is awful. I choose not to incite those riots on on-line social forums.

I do have political opinions, and I do post comments about them where it’s appropriate. There is a statewide political blog on which I have written comments and guest blog pieces. But always in a civil, respectful, manner. I choose to post in what I call “appropriate” places — and not discuss politics on social media. To me, “social media” is for fun and friendship, not for challenging others to a war of words.

Life is short: be calm, civil, and choose where to say what in cyberspace.

Persistent Website Downtime

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I truly regret that my website experienced a significant period of downtime yet again last night.

After incurring five prolonged periods of downtime within the last six weeks, I said to myself, “okay, that’s it!” I called my web host, Hurricane Electric (which was recommended to me by Larry of hotboots.com), and they confirmed the server on which my website is hosted was having problems again. So I sent them an email and requested that my site be migrated off their dysfunctional server to another one. Hopefully, the new-to-me server on which my website is hosted won’t have such problems.

Unfortunately, my website and my email was also down during the transition period to the new server. If you sent me a message any time from Monday afternoon until night, I haven’t seen it yet, but no worries, I’ll get it eventually and reply to you.

I have been very pleased with Hurricane Electric’s service for many years. I have a number of websites hosted by them now. Bootedman.com is the largest, but regardless of a website’s size and functionality, their reliability and affordability is what “sold” me. I think this one server downtime problem is an anomaly.

To anyone who tried to visit my website and received an error message or a message that the site wasn’t there any more, I apologize. Hopefully with this migration to another server, the problem will be resolved.

Life is short: don’t have unplanned downtime!

Guest Blog From The Bro’

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Hey, big brother… in just a few days, a big jet will be headed your way with The Wife and me on it. Headed back to see you for our birthday. I’ve made arrangements to rent a Harley. Lets Go Play! One week ’til our birthday! (But who’s counting?)

M and The Wife will do the girly stuff (shopping, yakking) while you and I will go explore. Revisit our youth, see our family, strengthen our souls — as only you can do for me.

It has been a year since we’ve done this, yet it feels like longer. I rejoice in knowing that you and I will be spending significant time together, hangin’ out, havin’ fun.

Love you, bro’ … always have, always will. Can’t wait!

See you soon,

J