Yearly Archives: 2012

Denim Jeans

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Denim jeans (aka “blue jeans”) have been worn by men (and women) for ages. Jeans are durable, easy to care for, and fairly inexpensive compared with dressier clothing. According to a great source, “Best Stuff for Men: The Denim Guide,” there are over 100 brands of jeans with over 450,000 pairs sold each year in the U.S. Wow… that’s a lot of jeans!

Jeans and boots go well together. A natural combination of casual, comfortable jeans with a pair of boots looks good — whether you choose cowboy boots, work boots, or motorcycle boots. Guys wear denim jeans more than any other type of pants. You can see that for yourself everywhere you look.

I have often been asked what kind of jeans I wear and recommend. Well, I’ve learned a thing or two….
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Folsom

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This one word, “Folsom,” is well-known. It refers to a week’s events and activities in San Francisco, California. The largest activity that culminates this week of events is a street festival held on Sunday, September 23. There will be plenty of entertainment, parties, after-parties, demonstrations, dances, smokin’ and drinkin’, and lots and lots of boots and leather. While it is predominantly attended by gay men into leather, there are a lot of people (both gay and straight) who go. It is the largest such outdoor “fetish” event in the world.

Ahhhh… back in the day…
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Are Boots on Men Indicative of Being Gay?

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Oh crap, here it goes again, this time from an historical society in Ohio, USA:
I have addressed this issue on this blog many times. Short answer: no. Longer answer: hell no.

Go ask a cowboy, motorcop, or a construction worker if by the mere fact that he wears boots means that he is gay, it’s likely he will want to lay you out flat with a quick one-two punch. As for me…
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Motorcops Practice

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I had a crazy-busy weekend, what with replacing one of my decks, building an entry ramp for a senior pal to make it easier for her to get into her home, and lots of other stuff. Fortunately, my partner was feeling better, so I felt comfortable enough to leave him for a few hours to help some friends practice for a big event that they will be entering next week.
I enjoy watching such skills and the camaraderie with my friends.

Check back in about a week or so for more photos during the real event.

Meanwhile — life is short: help the cops when you can.

My Socks Fall Down Inside My Boots!

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I get this fairly often, “Dear BHD, my socks fall down inside my boots all the time. How do I stop it? What socks do you recommend?”

I tell ya, lately I have received a large number of sock-related questions. So in my attempt to put a sock in it (sorry…) I thought I’d sock it to ya (sorry…) with an insight shared with me by a friend whose information has resolved that problem for me.
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Rider’s Dream

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Readers of this blog know that I enjoy riding my motorcycle, though with restrictions imposed by a chronic health condition, I cannot ride for long distances any more. I have to stop often, stretch, pee & poop, eat something, drink fluids… all that takes time. If I don’t do it, I get so sick that I would require medical attention.

No one in my club or any bikers I know want to “ride that slowly” — that is, take so many breaks — so I have not been able to test out the full “touring class” of my Harley. I don’t know if I ever will. I dream of it, such as in this photo taken by a friend on a recent trip sponsored by my club (these are my fellow riders in the Blue Ridge mountains of North Carolina or Tennessee).
But I continue to dream….
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Memories and Tributes

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Today, the date of September 11 (not “9/11”), marks a very dark date in the history of the United States, where cowardly terrorists caused pain, anguish, injuries, and deaths in 2001. I won’t let them win by describing what they did — we all know that. Instead, today, I will pay tribute to the countless thousands of responders, both in professional positions (fire, law enforcement, EMS) and those who jumped in voluntarily to alleviate suffering and help as best they could.

I spent six months after that dreadful day doing my part in providing relief, and that included much time in New York City. It’s one reason why I have no plans ever to return to NYC … too many painful memories which still haunt me today.

But there’s more to this day than memories of those attacks…
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Skilled Riders

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Took some time yesterday to watch some local motor officers do a demonstration of their riding skills, as they prepare for a major competition in two weeks.

Here’s a friend showing what I need to remember to do: look where you want the bike to be, not in front of you or where you’re going. The bike will go where you look.
Here’s another one demonstrating the same skill.
Here’s a view of one of our local motormen relaxing on his bike. Nice dress instep Dehner boots with half-sole and Vibram 100 lug soles.
Here’s a wider view, same cop.More Practice: And my friend finally got new boots — his old boots were beat up badly. Nice Boots, MC!Life is short: respect what trained motor officers do — not only in skilled riding, but in serving us every day.

Being Loved Despite Being Strange

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Frequently, I am one who describes to others that what we see on television or view on the internet about what people do in daily life is often exaggerated or sometimes blatantly false. But one can’t help but feel influenced by what he sees, such as couples going out for a night on the town for dinner and dancing, or guys my age using smartphones, eating lunch “out” every work day, having drinks with “the guys” after work, relaxing with a glass of wine with my partner after a long day, or staying awake at night until 11pm, yet rising to go to the gym early, changing to shirt/tie/dress shoes, then going to work and having coffee along the way — while swiping plastic for almost every transaction.

I recently explained to my sister, “I feel so strange… I don’t do any of that. My partner and I don’t eat out, we don’t have or want a smartphone, we go to bed by 8:30pm seven nights a week, I’m too cheap to pay for a gym membership, and I hate to dress up, dance, or wear shoes. I make our lunches to take to work, I don’t drink coffee or alcohol, I pay cash during our weekly grocery store visits and for most everything else, cook meals at home every day, I don’t send or receive text messages… honestly, I’m weird.”

To that, my sister said…
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