Monthly Archives: August 2010

A Brother’s Perspective

Posted on by

Guest blog by BHD’s twin brother, J

Well, bro’, our visit sure went quickly. It seems that no sooner than we arrived, we’re back on a plane headed for home in France. But I did get to go riding with you several times, and enjoyed visiting with our family and our aunt who you look after so closely. Too bad the rain interfered with some of our riding, but that’s life. It didn’t interrupt the quality time that you and I spent together.

This year, I observed that you were more laid back, calm, and — how do I say it? — peaceful. When we were around our family, with the kids running around and everyone talking at once (as our family is wont to do) … you may have been sitting quietly on the floor with our two-year-old great nephew building a tower with blocks. Or you may have been sitting with our sister having a quiet conversation. Or, I even caught you poking your nose under the hood of our brother-in-law’s restored ’76 Camaro. (Don’t tell me you aren’t a wrench. I know ’em when I see ’em.)

You extend you care so gently to our aunt, and draw her out of her shell and engage her in a way that she doesn’t do with anyone else. You get her to smile, to laugh, to walk, and to eat. No one else can seem to do that as well or as often, even though she has excellent around-the-clock care.

And once again, your clan of seniors who adore you were omnipresent. Their gift of cake, ice cream, and their little song during their visit last Sunday afternoon was a delightful surprise for our birthday. It is obvious that they adore you, and you care for them very much. You always say, “what goes around comes around” or “it’s a two-way street.” Whatever… the energy you put into caring for them is obviously much appreciated, and you are deeply loved.

You seem to be at peace with everything and everyone. You certainly remain busy with the political campaigns you are working on, your community work, keeping your household running, and lots of other stuff. But you have made your limits clear; keeping your focus on (how you say it) “the priorities.” You have established your priorities and everyone around you knows what they are. That’s simply amazing. But then again, you always amaze me, man.

I laughed when you were preparing dinner on Tuesday and the doorbell rang. At your request, I answered. Your state senator was at the door, and it was obvious he needed something. But before he said anything, the first thing he did was greet me by name, then excuse himself. I’ve never seen a politician 1) remember the name of a visitor he’s never met; and 2) figure out quickly that with my visit, it wasn’t the time for a lengthy discussion. Man, you’ve educated him well. (Mom would be proud, as the Congressman she worked for wouldn’t have done that!) You just handed him an envelope and said, “talk to you later” and that was that. Simple. I like that.

I won’t forget the looks on our family’s faces on Wednesday evening when we went to our nephew’s event to recognize his recently-awarded M.D. You got me to wear my leather pants and you wore yours. I think we were the coolest dudes in the place. I have to admit, I was a little self-conscious, but The Wife encouraged me to wear those leather pants to this big function. They looked great with the jacket & tie I was wearing (though I couldn’t get you into a tie for the life of me.)

You seem to have natural grace. Not necessarily in how you walk or move, but how you function. I’d say that you take each minute of every day and flow from one thing to the next. You don’t get rattled. You accept change — no, I would say that you “embrace” change — quickly, and with an even temperament that sets a great example for the rest of us. We should learn your secret, though you swear it is no secret; you just naturally and gracefully move on from task to task, person to person, thing to thing, or whatever. Again, amazing.

I am also glad that The Wife and your partner spent quality time together. They seem to hit it off well. Your partner is so well-read, and so interesting to talk to. You have a tremendous man in your chosen mate and I am delighted to be part of your lives.

Brother, just being with you restores my soul. I cherish you, and am blessed to have you as my own. My twin. My soulmate from our early life, and my best friend. How fortunate I am.

In closing, I will borrow one of your lines: life is short… show those you love that you love them. Love you, bro’! Sempre!

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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

Posted on by

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.