Amusing Google Searches

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Every now and then, I look at the stats linked to this blog to see what draws new visitors to it. Most new visitors (not the “regulars” who are followers, friends, relatives, or google “friend connect” users) come from searches using Google.

Here are some of the searches that landed up here, categorized by topic. I copied exactly what people entered into a search, including typos, misspellings, and grammar (or lack thereof).

1. Gay issues

  • why gay men have those squeaky voice?
  • can a gay man be masculine
  • can you be gay and masculine
  • boots outside jeans gay?
  • gay boots and jeans

Response: some gay men speak with a distinctive sound. I described it recently here. But honestly, most do not. Most gay men sound like anyone else. It’s a stereotype that all gay men speak with a squeaky voice.

Gay men and masculinity? Yep, I have blogged a lot about that. It is quite possible, speaking from personal experience, that there are masculine gay men. Again, not all gay men are prissy queens. Gay men range in masculinity as straight men do. However, many unenlightened straight men fail to recognize or actively deny this range.

Does a man who wears his jeans inside his boots mean he is gay? Um… no. Again, another stereotype. Just go ask a rodeo cowboy in Buckaroo boots that question.

The funny: “gay boots and jeans.” I have yet to find such a combination….

2. Cowboy Boots

  • how can men wear cowboy boots
  • how to wear cowboy boots with jeans
  • what boots to wear with blue jeans
  • what jeans do you wear with cowboy boots
  • can you wear cowboy boots with a suit?
  • boots outside jeans cool?
  • how should a man wear cowboy boots
  • how to wear cowboy boots to work
  • how do cowboys iron their jeans?
  • what kind of boots do cowboys wear?

Response: It amazes and amuses me how many, many people inquire about how to wear cowboy boots, what jeans to wear with them, what stacked jeans are, if one can wear cowboy boots with a suit, and so on. I do not know the reasons why so many inquiries of this nature are searched, but ever since I posted the tutorial Cowboy Boots and Jeans on my website, it is continually the second-most visited tutorial on my website. (See below for links to the first).

Funny #1: “how to wear cowboy boots to work?” Answer: on your feet.
Funny #2: “how do cowboys iron their jeans?” Answer: it depends if you’re straight or gay. Straight cowboys don’t iron their jeans. Gay cowboys send them to the dry cleaner.
Funny #3: “what kind of boots do cowboys wear?” … um, how about, “cowboy boots!” LOL!

3. Motorcycle Boots

  • do I need motorcycle boots
  • difference between biker boots and cowboy
  • the best motorcycle boots
  • how to break in leather motercycle boots
  • how to put on 17 motorcycle boots

Response: yes, if you are going to ride a motorcycle, you need to wear boots designed for that purpose. Wearing sneakers or worse — flip-flops — is just stupid. I have blogged a whole lot about motorcycle boots and wrote the tutorials on motorcycle patrol boots and motorcycle boots. These tutorials are tied for the most-visited on my website. It is no wonder many searches about motorcycle boots end up on my website and this blog.

How to break in motorcycle boots? Train the ankles, then put on good, thick socks and wear them while riding.

Funny: “how to put on 17 motorcycle boots.” Answer: grow 15 more legs and feet!

4. Leather

  • leathermen who wear thier leathers 247
  • is it illegal to wear a uniform if you are not a cop
  • does leather hurt?

Response: I for one can’t wear leather 24/7. While I enjoy wearing leather often, I wear it when the weather is suitably cool enough. I don’t like to sweat. I guess there are some guys out there who wear leather all day and all night. I’m not one of them, and do not know any.

As for uniform wearing: yes, it is legal to wear a uniform if you are not a cop. Just don’t wear one within the jurisdiction of the agency being represented, and don’t try to act like a cop by making certain comments to other people, or carrying a weapon such as a gun or baton (night stick). It is all explained here on my website for those who are curious (and I have blogged a little about it, too.)

Funny: “does leather hurt?” Answer: yes, the cow who donated it for human use probably would say it hurts.

5. Funniest of all

  • shoes for cocktail attire

I just about died laughing when I saw this search ended up on this blog. It goes back to my April Fool’s Day joke where I spoofed about shoes to wear with cocktail attire to attend the latest guppy gathering in my area. I laughed because I am about the last one to be consulted on shoes and cocktail attire. I care for neither.

Summary: I hope you enjoyed this brief tour of what people enter into search engines and how or why they ended up on this blog. And before you worry that I have gone all “big brother,” no worries, I do not know who you are. I just see what you are looking for and where (the town) you are coming from.

Life is short: search on!

Reunion

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These past two weeks have been unusual for our household in that my partner and I have been more separated than together. I had to take a lengthy business trip. When I returned, my mother-in-law was there. My partner brings her to our house for a visit each summer. He arranged her visit to occur mostly while I was away. Her visit continued for two days after I returned.

I care for my mother-in-law, but she is not easy to be around. As a product of her upbringing, she has developed bigoted attitudes which are difficult to hear. She is recognizing that her vocal statements bother me a lot and stops herself when she sees me grimace when she makes unreasonable comments about her neighbors back home. And her eating habits are, well, challenging to observe. I won’t go into more detail, but it’s not pretty.

My partner drove his mother back home last Friday. He stayed the weekend and returned on Sunday afternoon. While I enjoyed some “me time,” and having a weekend reprieve from the long list of “honey do” projects, I was missing my man.

Prior to his arrival back home, I changed the linens on our bed, dusted and cleaned a lot of the house, and even vacuumed. That is not something I ordinarily do in our division of household labor, but I know he likes a clean house and he cleaned it up before his mother’s visit, so I returned the favor by doing it this time.

I also drained the water from our hot tub, thoroughly cleaned it, replaced the filters, and refilled it. I knew that my partner would be miserably sore from his long drive back home, and a relaxing soak in the hot tub would help.

I also got busy in the kitchen. My partner loves to eat whatever I cook, so Guido (my chef’s assistant, pictured) and I got busy and made a loaf of Italian bread, a pasta salad with fresh ingredients from our “deck garden” (cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers), and then prepared a zucchini casserole. We have tons of zucchini ripening, so a casserole would use a lot of it. Too bad I can’t eat it, but my partner loves it. It was all for him.

When I heard his car pull into the garage, I went out to greet him. I winced as he was obviously in a lot of pain from driving — as I expected. I unloaded his luggage and got his clothes into the wash. He hadn’t eaten lunch, so I fixed him a sandwich with our fresh bread, then sat with him at our kitchen table and caught up.

Then we relaxed in our hot tub, and soaked for a whole hour. It helped him immensely with his pain. It did wonders for my spirit. We had a long conversation about our relationship, and how much we think of one another, and how much we remain deeply in love.

We dried off, and went inside where my partner became amorous. He asked me to bring him a pair of boots and asked me to “get booted,” then… (big evil grin)

Dinner was an easy fix, as a portion of the casserole was quickly heated with a zap in the microwave, and the pasta salad and bread side was all ready. I had a sandwich, as the veggies do not agree with me.

After dinner, we kept the TV and computer off, and cuddled in each other’s arms. We didn’t say much — we didn’t need to. Just being there, holding each other… lovingly, closely, fondly. I had blogged before about the importance of touch, and it’s so true. Soon enough it was bedtime, ending with a long snuggly back scratch. Ahhhh… perfect end for our reunion day.

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

500th Blog Post

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I am still amazed at my interest and ability to keep going with blogging, at least once a day and sometimes twice. What you are reading usually has been written a week or two in advance, and scheduled for publication each day at 4:00am local time. That way I can maintain my busy schedule and not have to worry about writing a blog post each day. I write when things come to mind.

I hope you enjoy the blog — my various interests, life, times, concerns, and activities.

As I often say: life is short! Show those you love that you love them, wear your boots, leather, and keep blogging!

Here are my most popular blog posts both historically and recently:

Now with an average (still) of about 500 visitors each day, including some from my home town, county, and state, I have developed somewhat of a following. I am not quite sure what the straight guys who live near me are looking for me to say, but I hope they enjoy what they’re reading.

Thanks to some of my loyal followers: Paul, Roland, Tef, Filipe, Jerome, my brother J, AZ, Kevin, Brian, SueG, as well as very regular followers from Huntington Beach, West Hills, San Jose and San Francisco, CA; Jonesboro, AR; Mukilteo, WA; Brookline, MA; Singapore, Singapore; Taiwan, ROC; Hong Kong, China; Berlin and Munich, Germany; Roma, Fierenze, Venezia, Turino, Milano, Padova, e il Veneto, Italia; Barcelona, Spain; lots of locations throughout the U.K.; Melbourne, Brisbane, and Sydney, Australia; and Moscow, Russia.

…and several others who shall remain unnamed…. I “see” you and welcome you to my blog. Note, these are “regulars,” but I also get many visits from all over the United States, Canada, and the rest of the world. It’s interesting that one can enter certain words into Google and end up on this blog. Google drives about 75% of my visitors, with “regular visitors” being the rest.

Enjoy life and this blog! Cheers, mates!

All American Biker

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Yep, that’s me, in a photo that I set up and used a tripod and self-timer on my camera to take yesterday:

I have traveled the world, but love living in the good ol’ USA, with all her faults and strengths. I prefer to wear American-made boots and leathers, and ride an American motorcycle. I’m not saying that bikes and boots made elsewhere are bad; these are my preferences.

Life is short: enjoy it where you live!

The Floodgates of China

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I remain in awe that about 30% of the daily visitors to my “bootedman.com” website are from mainland China.

I have heard stories that the Chinese government was requiring computers to have a filter of some sort on their browsers, but delayed implementing that rule. Meanwhile, literally dozens of visitors to my website from China are viewing hundreds and hundreds of pages. They seem to visit everything, from motorcycle boots to cowboy boots to cop galleries.

Simply amazing… the floodgates of China visit my lil’ ol’ website so often and look at so much. I figure that they are interested in American culture, are fascinated with what the web can bring to them, and perhaps more than a few have an “interest” (wink) in leather and boots. Perhaps some are trying to figure out what styles of boots that they make over there will sell better over here in the U.S.

Too bad the Chinese have blocked visiting this blog — or for that matter, any U.S. blog. I read about how blogs are blocked in China, and feel badly about that. Perhaps that’s why I get so many visitors to my website instead. An interesting side note, blog visitors from Hong Kong are not blocked, even though Hong Kong has been a part of China for over a decade. Perhaps the PRC’s net nannies do not extend their influence to the former British Colony.

I have stopped trying to over-analyze why about a third of my websites daily visitors are from China. I just observe that when they visit, they don’t just pop in, read a page or two, and move on. No, they view hundreds of pages (I have about 350 pages on my website now), and continue to return over and over again.

Well, fellas, enjoy!

Gaydar

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Updated — the original posting was uncharacteristically critical, and I changed it.

————–
Gay men sometimes intuitively guess if someone else is gay by engaging in a guessing game using “gaydar.”

What’s “gaydar?” Well, according to an article in Wikipedia:

Gaydar … refers to the intuitive ability to assess someone’s sexual orientation as gay, bisexual, or straight. The function of gaydar relies on usually non-verbal sensory information and intuitions. These include the sensitivity to social behaviors and mannerisms….

My gaydar went off as I observed this young man texting away on his cell phone while he was seated at National Airport across from me.

I did not talk to the guy, but heard him speaking when his cell phone rang. His voice had a distinctive “gay sound.” According to another website, the sound is called a lisp, though not actually a lisp. It is described thusly:

The markers of this speech pattern include higher than normal pitch that changes frequently and rapidly, a breathy tone, long fricatives, and a very careful pronunciation style.

He waved his other hand a lot while speaking, and generally gave off many signals that made my gaydar go off.

Is there anything wrong with that? No… and I never said the guy was or was not gay. It was behaviors I was observing that are similar to behaviors I have observed in some gay men I know. It doesn’t matter if he is or is not gay. What I’m describing is that there are some behaviors that some men do that give signals that other gay men can read.

Throw-Away Culture

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I was commenting on a buddy’s blog the other day. He wrote about the sorry state of affairs of residents in “old folks homes.” He was referencing the difference between “residents” and “inmates,” and stated that it was his perception (shared by others) that a home for older people is more of a restraining facility, with many restrictions and fixed times for activities. He concluded by stating that living in such a facility is living the life of an “inmate.”

This is what I wrote in my blog comment to him:

I have befriended hundreds of older people and can relate to what you are describing. My observation is that while a few older people are childless, for the most part, older people who have had children no longer receive much attention from their offspring. The older parents are left to rot; to be cared for by others.

It hurts me so much when I see the bright smile and glow on the face of a senior whose home I visit — perhaps to repair a squeaky door, compute a tax return, or to take her out grocery shopping — to know that often my brief visit is the only younger person he has seen all day, all week, or in a month.

It just galls me that older people are abandoned, left to being cared for by facilities such as “old folks homes,” nursing homes, assisted living centers, or the like. Sure, some of the older people need more assistance with daily living (bathing, eating, taking meds on schedule) than others. But they should never be left to rot in abandonment. Children who haven’t said as much as “boo” to their parent, or who have not visited in years, should be ashamed.

Yeah, yeah, yeah… you’re “busy” raising children, working, and dealing with the hassles of daily life. I’m busy too and still make time in my schedule to take some older people grocery shopping, drop in to pay a visit, do some light home repairs, or whatever. Don’t give me “I’m busy” … it doesn’t wash. As they say, if you want something done right, give it to a busy person. The right thing to do is to pay attention to parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and older friends.

In the U.S., we have too much of a “throw-away” culture. I get incensed when we throw away our elders. That is perhaps why I volunteer so much, and care so much. After all — soon enough — I will be one of them.

I admire people, like BBA and some other guys I know, who have totally reordered their lives to care for elderly parents as they have aged and need help. It is a huge inconvenience, but to tell you the truth: when you were a baby, you were not all that “convenient,” either. Love conquers all, and it works on both sides of the aging continuum.

If your parents or grandparents are alive, how lucky you are. All of mine have died; however, I have no regrets. Each of them were part of my life until they passed away, and they knew how very deeply I loved them. Go visit your elders, or give them a call. Show them that you are thinking of them. After all…

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

Winging Home

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I took this photo last night from my window seat as I was on the plane on my way home. It’s nice to be home, in my own bed, in the arms of my man, snuggled warm and close.

I even was happy to see my mother-in-law who has been here while I was away. I prepared a nice breakfast for her and my partner, and enjoyed listening to them catch me up on what’s been going on while I was away. I even was amused, rather than annoyed, at my mother-in-law’s sloppy eating habits. Nothing has changed.

A day of rest, recovery, de-poopification, and doing laundry, before returning to the working world back in DC tomorrow. Ahhhh…

Christmas Shopping Is Done!

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I hate shopping. I really do. I do not like crowds, salespeople, or browsing. When there are things that I have to get, I make a list, and either find it on-line at a good value, or buy it in a store. Go in, get it, pay, get out. Period.

I definitely do not fit the gay stereotype of enjoying shopping. Yuck. I have lots of other things I would rather do with my time.

Therefore, I was pleased when I completed my shopping for Christmas 2009 already. There’s one good thing about a large family — we do not buy Christmas presents for each other, else lead to personal bankruptcy. I have about ten people I buy presents for, including my partner, my aunt, my mother-in-law, and a few special senior friends. That’s it.

Recently I made some time to go to a card shop and bought the cards for my annual gift for the card organizers for seniors. Birthday cards, anniversary cards, and a few general all-purpose cards for special occasions that may arise. I carefully stored the cards away at home in a safe place. I will organize them come December, but don’t have to get out into the crowds during the busy holiday buying season.

I have also purchased a few items via the internet. Those items arrived last week, and also have been carefully tucked away.

My partner insists that he doesn’t want a present. He never really had a childhood Christmas where the kids tore open the presents and played with toys all day. Christmas, to him, is rather quiet and he calls it peaceful. Therefore, what I bought for him, which is a surprise, is something that is “peaceful” and that I know he will enjoy.

Well, anyway, all of my Christmas shopping is done. I will be happy come December when everyone is fretting over needing time to go shopping, dealing with crowds, long lines, and items being out of stock that I can sit back, bake breads, and try to relax a little bit. That makes my Christmas that much more joyful.

Life is short: plan ahead to relieve stress!

100 Kilometers and Boot Sightings

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Last Thursday I arrived at a crazy-huge hotel where a conference I am attending is being held. Upon arrival, we were provided a pedometer as a fun little item to promote health (walking) and to inspire a competition among the staff about who walked the most. Since arrival until writing this message on Monday evening, I have walked 100km (>62 miles). Wow!

It’s not hard to walk a lot in this place. My hotel room is 1km (0.6 miles) to the location where most of the rest of the conference is going on. So if I walk to and from my hotel room just once, I have walked over a mile. Or like today, when I had to go back and forth four times, I logged 8km (4.9 miles.)

Then the meeting rooms and other locations where various functions are going on are also far apart. I am averaging about 18km (11 miles) of walking — in cowboy boots — each day. My colleagues look mighty uncomfortable in their dress shoes, poor fellas.

I walk at a brisk pace. With all of the indoor waterfalls and fountains, the air is rather damp and humid. It makes the walk less enjoyable because it causes me to sweat a lot — especially since I have to wear a shirt, noose, and a jacket all day. Yuck.

But the bright side is that I am indeed walking a lot, and I need to do that. I look forward to walking more when I get home — in comfortable jeans, t-shirt, and boots better designed for walking.

Boot sightings: They held a conference social event last night which was themed around country music. We were allowed to dress “casual” (thank goodness, I could ditch that damn tie!) I put on my cowboy boots, jeans, western shirt, and straw cowboy hat and strolled over to the place. I fit right in, as a lot of other men were dressed the same. They had a good band, and a group of dancers. Man, can those lithe young men dance in those tight jeans and boots!

I decided that I should get something to eat and got in the buffet line. Unfortunately, all that was offered was barbecue pork, beef, or chicken. I can’t eat meats soaked in barbecue sauce. Last year, such food sent me to the emergency room! Other choices of foods were tossed salad, cole slaw, and corn — none of which I can eat, either.

Oh well, I grabbed a ginger ale and sat on a wall for some boot watching. In about 30 minutes I probably spotted over 100 men in cowboy boots. Nice change from playing dress-up all week. They looked more comfortable and relaxed, too.

I got tired of that, and felt my intestines beginning to turn (probably from last night’s meal), so I started to head back. I am glad I did, as by the time I walked that two miles back to my room, I … er… “wasn’t feeling well.” Geesh, I hate not being able to eat various foods most others enjoy. Called it an early night by 8:00pm. I’m just not the party boy nor dancer. Never was, never will be. Plus, I’m getting a little homesick for my man, whose arms I will be snuggled in soon. Can’t wait.

Life is short: wear your boots!