My Left Turn

I am the product of a mixed marriage. Dad grew up Baptist and a Republican. Mom grew up Catholic and a Democrat. Dad converted to Catholicism so they could marry but has never lost his faith in the Republican party.

Mom and her sisters (RIP) were devoted to the Catholic Church, the Democratic party, and University of Kentucky sports though not necessarily in that order. Arguing was a family hobby. Despite countless differences of opinion about numerous things, they did agree on one thing: John F. Kennedy was a saint.

Despite my decidedly liberal aunts, my upbringing in the lily-white burbs pushed me to the right. Being different in any way from people your own age was a curse. You didn't want to be too tall, too short, too fat or too skinny. Better to blend in than to stand out. People who dared to be different were outcasts, misfits, and trouble-makers. Uniformity and conformity reigned supreme.

You could say my liberal aunts preconditioned me for the left turn I would eventually make. Perhaps. But I don't think so. My upbringing and mediocre high school record produced a spoiled little, know-it-all with an over-sized ego and a whopping sense of entitlement. Some would say I haven't changed much.

Perhaps not. We grow and age, but at the core we don't really change all that much. Hard to say whether my experience since high school has caused me to evolve into a better person or if it has merely led me to be differently biased. Obviously I prefer to think I've evolved.

Unlike a lot of gay guys, I honestly didn't suspect a thing growing up. Looking back it's clear I was just stupid. Or maybe you can't see what you don't want to see. For whatever reason I didn't connect the dots until I was almost 21.

Coming out produced a sudden, almost violent turn to the left. I became "different" and hence subject to the scorn of the same conformists I once emulated. Karma is a bitch. One three-letter word negated any positive qualities, attributes, or accomplishments. Wah.

I know, some of you think being gay is a choice. Show me three straight people who want to be gay. Nobody wants to be gay. That's not to say I'm not happy. Nor do I have any desire to change, especially at this stage of the game. I'm blessed to live in a time when it's possible for me to live my life openly, honestly and without fear.

I know, some of you think that's the whole problem with America today. We homos should get back in the closet and hide. You just don't get it and nothing I can say will make you understand. I know. Back when I first came out and didn't know any better, I used to try. Some kinds of stupid are permanent.

That's why I'm worried. I wonder where all this name-calling and brick-throwing is taking us. I see Virginia rolling back protections for gays and religious conservatives battling to save society from all us godless homosexuals and the hair on the back of my neck goes up.

Stop the hate. Please. Lives depend on it.

Eye Opening

Yesterday we watched Sacha Baron Cohen's latest satire, Bruno. I know I'm late to the table on this one. Frankly nothing I'd seen or heard about this movie made me want to see it.

Terri Gross's interview with Sacha on NPR's Fresh Air changed my mind. Hearing all the behind-the-scenes drama around the making of the movie piqued my interest. Sacha explained the need for an over-the-top character who embodied what people fear most about gay people. I'd like to catch this excellent interview again now that I've seen the movie.

To say Bruno is offensive is an understatement of epic proportions. Had I not heard the Fresh Air interview, I might not have gotten past frequent graphic depictions of often unimaginable sex acts. But I did. It wasn't always easy, and I'm hardly a prude. Close your eyes and plug your ears if you must, but stick it out.  In the end it's really not about the sex.  It's about pure unadulterated hate and ignorance.

Sacha Baron Cohen is either very brave or very foolish. I've been out for more than 30 years. I have never come close to being as outrageous as the Bruno character in no small part because I don't like getting beat up. For the same reason I've avoided the situations Bruno faces in the movie. As a resident of the Deep South, I was encouraged by how far Bruno had to go to get the Alabama hunters to react. Showing up naked at someone's tent in the middle of the night is just asking for trouble.

Bruno made me think about my own experience in a different way. It won't, however, change my behavior. I will continue to carefully avoid commenting on any straight man's appearance (don't you look nice today!) unless I have known him for a very long time. You can't be too careful.

I'll continue to be very careful about commenting on photos people post of their male children (isn't he cute!). I've learned the hard way how quickly people can jump to all the wrong conclusions. Ever had someone seriously call you a child molester? I had to leave the house when my ex had his two boys over because his ex-wife was afraid of what I would do to them.

My biggest complaint about Bruno? The people who should see it, won't. If per chance they do, they won't get it. If you need to hit people with a sledgehammer to get their attention, you'll need to spell out exactly what you want them to know once you do. To me, without the Fresh Air interview that's where Bruno fails. 

A Brush with Celebrity

The first time I saw Bradley, he was dressed up as Frank-N-Furter. It was the premier of Rocky Horror Picture Show back in September of 1975. Every detail was perfect. I worked at the movie theater at the time and must confess that all I could do was stare. Keep in mind, this was long before the movie became a cult classic and everyone dressed up. I was a senior at the time in a largely white suburban school, which means Bradley was just a junior in high school. Talk about balls. Walking around Lexington in the daylight in 1975 in spike heels, fishnets, and full make-up was just asking for trouble. It certainly made an impression on me.

I saw Bradley again several years later. Bradley was a cocktail waitress at the local gay bar, with a strong preference for plain white, long-sleeved blouses, tight black and/or metallic skirts, nylon hose (with the line up the back) and various and sundry spiked pumps. It wasn't drag so much as stuff he found attractive or just liked to wear. He had a definite style sense of his own. He's the first aggressively androgynous person I ever encountered.

One night Bradley attended an after-hours party hosted by one of my best friends. We heard a very loud crash coming from behind the bathroom door. Cries of "help" followed, so we flung open the door. The bathroom sink was in the floor. Bradley (in his customary short skirt, hose and heels) was on his knees using his thumbs in a desperate attempt to keep water from spraying from the now broken lines coming out of the wall. He looked up and with mascara running down his face said, "Who the f*** lives here?" Apparently, he perched on the edge of the sink for some reason, pulling it from the wall. I still get tickled when I think about it.

Wasn't long before Bradley was fronting a punk rock band. I'm not sure I ever watched a performance. At the time disco was king and I was the proverbial dancing queen. The punkers were definitely cut from a different cloth.

Soon Bradley opened his own club in Lexington. I have no idea where he got the money. It was called Club Au Go-Go, and the crowd was definitely mixed. The club featured drag shows, punk concerts, and everything in between. We went a time or two, but it really catered to an edgier crowd. Even so, it was pretty clear that Bradley was going places.

A few weeks ago one of my classmates posted pictures from the glory days of Club Au Go-Go on Facebook. He played in a band that played there often with several classmates, including a few that are still in bands today. The club closed in the early 80s. I used to think about it whenever I drove by the intersection where it was. But I hadn't thought about Bradley for a very long time.

So I googled him. His full name came up on the list of suggestions almost immediately. Turns out, he's now party planner to the stars. He's planned several big Hollywood bashes, birthday parties for Elton John, and other fabulous parties. In the pic above, he's with alleged best friend Chi Chi LaRue who made her fortune producing high-quality gay porn. Or so I've heard. I wouldn't really know about the high-quality part.

Bradley always had a knack for making an impression. Looks like he found a way to make a living at it. Just another brush with celebrity for...

The Crotchety Old Man

American Idol 2009

I have to weigh in on the 2009 American Idol competition. It's time. Adam or Kris?

Let me say that I watched less of the competition this season than ever before. For the first few years I was there for every audition, performance, and results show. Idol was definitely the highlight of my television-viewing schedule.

I learned fast not to get too attached to a contestant early in the competition. Year after year my favorites failed to win. In fact, my favorites have often gone home fairly early (think Jennifer Hudson). It hurts a little, but I've learned to accept that 50ish gay men are not really the target demographic for American Idol, pop music or really anything.

Then Fox got greedy, and more than a tad arrogant. With AI dominating the ratings, network executives saw a gold mine and moved to cash in. The show moved from a one-hour to a two-hour format--and longer. The extra time was devoted to mind-numbing filler and advertising. I started to feel abused--like someone was taking advantage of me. I flatly refused to make a three-night commitment to American Idol. Somehow, doing so seemed dirty to me.

Last week I watched all the performances and was not surprised that Danny went home. He stood out early in the performances I saw, but didn't perform as well as Adam and Kris that night. Last night I watched all the performances and felt like Kris didn't perform as well as Adam. Really it was about that last song, which proved that Adam can sing anything and make it sound good.

They are both very talented and sure to have careers in music. But I'm predicting that Kris is going to win. The gay blogs are going to say Adam lost because he is gay and America is homophobic. While the latter part of that statement may be true, I really don't think it is a factor here.

The winner is determined by the voters, and the voters are overwhelmingly little girls with cell phones. Remember middle school? Girls this age have no problem spending several hours after the performance show calling and texting votes for their favorite contestant. I bet millions of girls and more than a few boys do this every week.

Think about it. The little girls that think Adam is hot are not home watching television. They have better things to do. Besides, voting for an American Idol contestant wouldn't be cool. American Idol's most devoted fans love his performances, but mostly Adam reminds them of the weird kids at school.

Kris, on the other hand, is the face they see behind the door when they play "Mystery Date." Girls from sea to shining sea will diligently dial his number as a testament to their love and devotion. He'll get all of Danny's fans, too which should make for a comfortable win.

That said, recall that my favorite contestant never wins. Ever. Just another reason I'm still...

The Crotchety Old Man

Keeping My Fingers Crossed

I love President Obama more and more all the time. His approach is so different from what we've seen in recent years. Sometimes I just have to stop and enjoy the breath of fresh air he is spreading across the land.

A big waft of that fresh air came with the speech Obama gave at Notre Dame. Instead of remarks to polarize and agitate, Obama asked for tolerance and an end to the demonization of our opponents (aka the Rove way). That's change we can all believe in.

The tone is changing. Increasingly, protestors on both sides come across as overly shrill. Those tactics don't work any more. Use tactics that don't make me dislike you the moment you open your mouth. More often than not, winning and being right are two very different things.

I hear the homos grumbling about how little President Obama has done for us. Get real. Other than that thing with the cigar, DADT (Don't Ask, Don't Tell) was Clinton's biggest mistake. It's not fair, but the truth of the matter is that any kind of push for gay rights by the POTUS serves mostly as a stick jammed into the hornet's nest of far-right religious fanatics. Pissing them off and giving them a focal point (i.e., POTUS) helps them more than us.

The big thing we need to do right now is keep our fingers crossed that the economy turns around and the Republicans remain clueless so that Obama gets elected to a second term. Voting on a single issue is out. Voting for consensus-builders is in. Demonizing those with different opinions is out. Finding common ground to solve problems is in. If you're not part of the solution, well, you're the problem.

And that's why they call me...

The Crotchety Old Man

A Blast from the Past

I got an e-mail from a high school pal of mine Sunday inviting me to see her profile on Facebook. We were in school together from third grade on, had lots of classes together, and were both in a couple of plays together our senior year. I haven't seen her in at least 30 years.

Before that e-mail I'd resisted the urge to become a social networker. Blogging (posting and keeping up with other blogs) is a big enough time waster for me--I didn't feel like I needed another. On top of that, I'd been told that I was too old for Facebook since it was primarily for 20-somethings.

Well, if she could be on Facebook, I could too. So I created a profile, posted some pics, and started looking for FB friends. Facebook is the Internet equivalent of crack. It's her fault that I've been combing through profiles looking for friends for most of the last 48 hours. As I write, I'm up to 47 friends!

Of those 47 friends, 16 are high school pals, 15 are coworkers here in Georgia, 6 are colleagues that work in other states, four are spouses or children of friends of mine, 3 are friends (no connection to work), 1 is a cousin, and I have no idea who in the hell two of them are.

By far, the most interesting are my high school pals. We have a class reunion every five years. So far, I've never missed one. The five year reunion was just like high school--exactly. The 10 year was interesting because I went with a troop of lesbians and a suitcase full of drugs and alcohol. Apparently, I'm the only gay man in our graduating class of 675 students, but we have LOTS of lesbians. To say we were the life of the party would be an understatement.

I went to the 15 and 20 year reunions with hubby #1 and the lesbians. He went to the same high school but graduated a year earlier. Hubby #2, 8 years my junior, went with me and the lesbians to the 25 year reunion. The wonderful man I'm with now (who I fully expect will be my last hubby) went with me to the 30th. He's 22 years younger than me, so many of my classmates have kids his age or older. Was a tad awkward for him but I had a ball.

The last time I caught any flack for being gay was at the ten year reunion from some of the jocks. I was more than a little wasted and with that, perhaps a tad mouthy. Fortunately, the lesbians kept them from beating me up.

Now we're all just glad to see the people we grew up with. Even the jocks the lesbians saved me from greet me with a hug today. Any differences we may have had then or have now pale in comparison with our shared histories. My high school pals can appreciate more than just about anyone the person that I am today, and vice versa. After all, they knew me long before I became...

The Crotchety Old Man

Most Visited Postings

One of the first things I do every morning is check Google Analytics to find out how many folks visited this blog the day before. I used to spend a lot of time looking at all the subcategories. There's a ton of information, and I even know what some of it means. But these days I tend to focus on the number of visitors and the most popular postings.

My October 1 rant about my dissatisfaction with the "new and improved" gay.com is by far my most popular posting (New & Improved Gay.Com Sucks!). A follow-up posting on October 26 (New Gay.Com Still Sucks) is a distant second, with my rant about Gay Republicans wrapping up the top three. With the exception of four more (two on gay topics), the rest of my postings have about the same number of viewings. Interesting.

Most of the folks (about 60%) who read this blog come directly from another blog. Less than twenty percent come directly to the blog. The rest show up because this blog turned up when they searched for something. In about a fourth of those, "crotchety old man" was the search term. Most of the rest are various permutations of gay.com chat sucks. Apparently my view on that particular topic is shared by quite a few people.

"Most Visited" doesn't really tell me much. It might if I had as many viewers as Joe My God or Helen & Margaret. I don't think I'm gay enough or political enough for that to happen. My tendency to drift from topic to topic doesn't help me to build a regular following, either.

One of these days I'll look back over all that I've posted so I can post the list of my ten favorites. Some of my early rants were pretty good hehe. Some of my best postings aren't rants as much as reminiscences. Until I get my top ten list together, I'd love to hear from you about any of my postings that you really like (or dislike). You can either comment on this post or comment on the post you like (or hate). And thanks!

Betty & Walter

Betty was the oldest of the five girls in Momma's family. She was an x-ray technician when I was very young, then moved into administration and something to do with insurance for a private hospital for children. Work was always a big part of who she was. She was a career woman in an era when everyone was a stay-at-home mom.

She married Walter when I was in first grade. I remember because everyone came to school--the Catholic church next door to school to be exact. It was a big deal to see my aunts and uncles all dressed up. Some of my older cousins got to skip class to attend the ceremony.

Walter is a postcard from the late 40s and early 50s. He smoked a pipe, sported thick glasses, and always wore a white shirt, short-sleeved or long depending on the season, pleated pants, wingtips, and a skinny tie. He was a higher up in the county tax commissioner's office--a career bureaucrat. He had a amazing train track set-up with mountains, bodies of water, small towns, and farms. When we were very young, he would sometimes put on his conductor cap and run the trains for us. He also fed the ducks and other water birds that hung out at a city pond in the park behind their house.

Betty and Walter never had children. As the oldest girl in single-parent family with eight kids, Betty probably had her fill of raising children well before she married. Betty was the typical oldest sister--a bit bossy and quick to point out to her siblings the error of their ways. She was also the one everybody ran to anytime they needed anything. She always helped, and rarely said a word about it--to anyone.

Betty and Walter often hosted potluck picnics, especially around Memorial Day or Labor Day. These were much more sedate than the big Fourth of July blow-outs, but similar in that the aunts and some of my uncles would sit at card tables in the shade playing bridge. It was not unusual to have as many as three tables going at one of these family picnics. From time to time they'd call out for one of us to come sit in for them while they took a break from the game. Most of the cousins know the fundamentals of bridge.

These bridge games were often loud and boisterous, especially as time went on. None of the aunts was ever wrong about anything. Consequently, arguments would break out about proper bidding, what somebody should have done, and the best way to play the hand. The language would be enough on occasion to make a sailor blush. Everybody smoked. Given that the get together was associated with a holiday, alcohol flowed freely, too.

Betty was an avid supporter of University of Kentucky basketball and football. She was thrilled to have nieces and nephews with UK degrees. She praised us for our accomplishments and was quick to offer support to anyone that was struggling for whatever reason. She bought more interview, funeral, and wedding suits for various cousins than you could count.

I don't recall Betty or Walter ever saying a word about me being gay. They knew. Everyone did. My partner and I hosted the annual Fourth of July blow-out at our house for several years. They always came, and they always treated my partner like he was one of the family. Actions speak louder than words. They died, fairly close together, of cancer and were very well cared for--by my cousins--up to the very end.

The Rush to Judgement

I remain convinced that Barack Obama is the most intelligent man to be elected to the Presidency in my lifetime. His campaign was not only effective, but brilliant. Not since Lincoln have we seen a President comfortable enough with his own ability to govern to surround himself not with those to whom he owes a favor, but with individuals that are *gasp* among the most capable in the nation. It's a new era--an awakening--and it's long overdue.

Clinton is smart--actually both of them are smart. But Bill doesn't always think with the right body part. Hillary is widely recognized as one of the most partisan politicos around. President-Elect Obama is too smart to make either of those mistakes. Obama is a new political animal--one with the goal to bring people together from all walks of life to solve the problems we face together as a nation.

So to all my gay brothers and sisters that have exploded over the invitation Obama issued to Rev. Warren to offer the invocation at his inauguration, I say relax and give the man a break. Believe it or not, what other people do isn't always about you. And in this case, making nice with the new Billy Graham and one of the nation's most popular and well-respected ministers is quite likely to help more than hurt in the long run.

Frankly, I find the reaction from the gay community to be disappointing. The gaystapo marches again. It's us engaging in the same ugly tactics and behavior that we've seen from 'the other side' all these years. We have become them, and it's ugly.

Give our new president a chance. Don't rush to judge in light of one little incident. Yeah I've read all the posts about what an affront the Warren invite is to the gay community. If you're that mad, take it to FoxNews or talk radio. Join the rest who will jump on every single perceived slight and are doing whatever they can to bring the man down before he even takes office. But me, I'm going to support the man that I believe is the best hope we've had for equal rights in the history of the United States.

Change I can believe in. What about you?

Holiday Greeting Cards

I send a ton of Christmas cards out every year. It's something I've done for as long as I can remember. Not only do I send cards, but for years and years I typically wrote long letters in each and every one. Throw in all my friends and former coworkers, and at one point my Christmas card list was bigger than the phone book of some small towns.

Most of my cards go to family. Both of my parents have (or had) eight brothers and sisters. Nearly all married, had kids, and lived in and around Lexington, KY. Not only do I have a very large extended family, but we saw each other very frequently. I practically grew up with my mother's siblings and their children. I'm closer to many of my cousins than most people are to their siblings.

Before I left Lexington for greener pastures in 1996, my long letters went mostly to friends and family that lived out of town. Once I left town, I needed to write a letter in every card. My annual Christmas card became my only contact with many of the aunts, uncles, and cousins that I grew up with. These annual letters were something that I enjoyed writing, and I've heard from many of the recipients that they looked forward to receiving them.

I stopped writing letters in every card several years ago. Those that send me a card are more likely to get one of my letters in return than those who never send cards. Some of my cousins that never send cards have been dropped from my list all together. Friends and family that simply sign their names to a card without even a "hope you are well" are less likely to get a letter from me than those who write at least a sentence or two. One must have standards.

My card list is much shorter now. I've lost touch with some of the friends and former coworkers that once received cards from me. My gay friends are so bad about sending cards that I gave up sending them cards years ago and stay in touch via e-mail and the occasional phone call--if at all. Frankly, with very few exceptions the gay people I've encountered in 30+ years of being out haven't been very good friends--especially when you or they move away. Out of sight, out of mind. With only two exceptions (2 guys that were in the circle of friends I had when I first came out), I get tired of doing all the work to maintain those connections.

In Mom's family, all my aunts and all but one of my uncles have passed away, along with two of my cousins. Most of Dad's siblings left Lexington long before I did. All but one are still living though they are getting really old now--the youngest is in his late 60s. I haven't seen or heard from some of my cousins for decades, and it's been a couple of years since I've seen most of the rest. Time marches on.

The day will come when my card list will be short enough that I'll be able to write my cards in an afternoon. While I have sometimes felt overwhelmed by the quantity of cards that I had to do, it's always been more a labor of love than a chore. Maybe I should reconsider some of those I've crossed off because I am, as always...

The Crotchety Old Man

One or Two Religious Conservatives at a Time

This weekend I happened to catch one of the more interesting episodes of Split Ends. In case you haven't seen it, Split Ends is a reality show where two hairdressers swap salons for a few days. Most of the time they swap someone from an upscale, hoity-toity salon with someone from a salon somewhere in Podunk. Yeah it's not the best show on TV, but Georgia didn't play this weekend so I needed some fillers.

This particular episode featured a hairdresser from Worcester, MA swapping with someone from Crescent Springs in rural Northern Kentucky. What made this show interesting was the fact that the MA hairdresser did drag, and the KY shop featured prayer several times a day. Talk about a culture clash....

Things started off fine. But Christian returned to the religious shop after lunch in drag, as Crystal Mess. Sparks flew. Heather, the ultrareligious owner freaked out. Get this--she said a salon was no place for a drag queen, and walked out. Now I don't know about you, but if a drag queen doesn't belong in a beauty parlor, I don't know who does.

The next day, all the other hairdressers were told they were not allowed to talk to Christian, who showed up to work sans drag. As an aside, he's adorable in and out of drag. He asked the owners (Heather and her husband, Fred) if he could talk with them. Heather was a bitch. Fred was uptight, but nicer. If you ask me, Heather was probably worried that Fred might play for the other team which looked like a distinct possibility.

On the final day, when the swappers get to run the shop with their rules, Crystal Mess shows up. Heather has a fit, but doesn't walk off. For his "final challenge", Crystal has to do makeovers for two of the dykiest looking softball players you're ever going to see. He agrees, with the condition that he also gets to do a makeover for Fred. The end result with the two girls is amazing--reason enough to watch this admittedly lame show.

Of course, Crystal puts Fred in drag for his makeover, and Heather cries. Then she prays and cries some more. Wah. Crystal takes her wig off, and apologizes to Heather saying he never intended to hurt anyone's feelings, and that it was all in fun. The icing on the cake was when Crystal asked Heather to pray, and all the hairdressers got together in a little prayer circle. What a gay!

The end of the show is Heather coming around to say that Crystal wasn't so bad after all. I don't think she's ready to vote for gay marriage, but she definitely had a dramatic change in perspective. That's the way we'll win our civil rights--one or two religious conservatives at a time.

Aunt Toodles

Everyone should have an Aunt Toodles. My mother (now 70) was the baby of 8. Toodles was the next youngest and four years older. She was fiercely protective of my mother, and from the time I was born, loved me more than just about anything else in the world. At least she always made me feel that way. I can certainly say that I love her more than anyone I have ever known.

Toodles was a large woman. Obese, really, but also pretty and outgoing. She was larger than life in just about every way. She always wore gigantic jewelry and carried huge purses because she felt like it made her look smaller than she was. Especially when I was kid, she usually wore flattering skirts and heels. She also wore Tabu perfume. If you've never caught a whiff of Tabu, it's not the least bit subtle. It hits your nose like a prize fighter.

My earliest memories are scented with Tabu. It's loud and obnoxious I know, but for me it's the sweet smell of love. Toodles was around a lot when I was small. She lived with us for a short time, and spent the night at our house often--into my teen years. She was single, 24 when I was born, and the kind of woman that tended to make a party wherever she was. I swear she lived with us for years, but Mom says it was only for a few months sometime before my sister was born.

I had my own room with twin beds until age four when my sister was born. Toodles always slept in the other bed when she spent the night. She told me about creeping in drunk trying not to make any noise, and of course, waking toddler me up. She'd fall in to bed and wake up with me beside her, and a wet washcloth neatly folded across her forehead. Eventually she found out I was dipping the washcloth in the toilet to get it wet.

For years before she died, we talked on the phone for an hour or so, two or three times a week. Man I miss those conversations! A sample.... Toodles knew that I enjoyed gay chat rooms. I told her it was a good way to meet people. She didn't like the idea of a chat room--couldn't see why anyone would ever want to do that. Now Toodles was about the most social animal I have ever encountered. So I just couldn't imagine why she was so cool toward chat rooms.

So one day I asked her what she thought a chat room was. Toodles explained that you went to chat rooms to sit around naked with other people to watch porn on the Internet. Even with that image of a chat room, she never in any way suggested or even hinted that going to a chat room was something I shouldn't do.

She thought my first ex, Tom, was someone I took on as a project. She felt sorry for him, but was never wild about us being together. I doubt he ever even suspected in the 12 years we were together that she was other than thrilled. She hated my second ex--though Kevin never knew it either. Turns out, she saw right away what it took me five years to figure out about Kevin. With #3--my current main squeeze, she was opposed at first because she was sure this guy half my age was just using me. Didn't take her long to come around. Before she died she told me how happy she was that I had finally found someone I deserved. Now that she's gone, I'm so glad that he got to meet her.

Everyone should have an Aunt Toodles. She loved me absolutely and unconditionally. I don't know what I would have done without her during the early years of coming out. In fact, I really can't conceive of how different I would be without this enormous love in my life. I'll have to blog about her again. There are a million wild Toodles tales to tell. She always wanted me to write a book. She would be thrilled to know I blog--if I could ever get her to understand what that means!

The Movement

I've been watching the news and checking blogs to see if anything bad happened during the simultaneous rallies around the country yesterday at 1:30 p.m. (Eastern Daylight Savings Time). Given the incidents that have taken place since the election and passage of Proposition H8, I was worried. I haven't seen a word about the rallies, and I'm taking that as good news.

I have to say that I am very impressed with the way the simultaneous rallies came together. It was a modern protest, communicated across the Internet at lightening speed. It was not organized by any existing protest groups. It was a more or less organic spontaneous event. To my admittedly limited knowledge, it's the largest such demonstration that has ever taken place. We even had a gathering here in Athens! I hope someone is tallying up participation so we find out how many people were involved nationwide.

I assume by the presence of directions and guidelines about how to (and not to) act at the rallies that I was not the only gay man disturbed by the thuggish behavior we've seen replayed all over the Internet. That makes me feel good, too. For a few days I thought I was a lone voice calling for more civil behavior.

I tuned in the Today Show this morning expecting to hear a report on the rallies. Not a word. Not one single word. There was a short article in the Athens Banner Herald this morning, but no mention of the gathering here in Athens. As of a few minutes age, there is very little on any of the blogs. I've noticed that most of the gay bloggers I read tend to take weekends off, so maybe I'll see more starting this evening.

The one piece of good news I glean from the absence of coverage is that there must not have been any significant thug behavior. If that's the case, it is GREAT news. It demonstrates that we can be sane and rational when voicing our concerns, and that means those concerns are more likely to be heard. It gives me hope that maybe this time, we'll succeed.

Militant Morons

Yesterday I wrote about my shock and dismay at the attacks by loud-mouthed gays on anyone who disagrees with them. Today I'm going to write about it again. Only this time, I'm starting to get pissed.

I heard that members of the gaystapo (with a tip of that hat to Colbert who I first heard that term from) turned on some blacks at a Proposition 8 rally somewhere. Said it was their fault Proposition 8 passed, and then called them the N-word. The victims here were also gay.

Joe.My.God posted Sir Elton John's views on gay marriage and Proposition 8 today. In essence, Sir John thinks the problem is the word "marriage." The UK has a "civil partnership" which is a legal union as opposed to marriage, which is a religious union. Pushing for gay marriage agitates the Christian fundamentalists, and they react. I'm inclined to agree with him.

Here's a sampling of the comments directed at one of the first openly gay public figures in the world:
"Thanks for the advice, idiot who stayed a closeted queen until he was 50. He's such a fucktard!"
"Mr. John is rooted in the past, as are his music and his influence."
"This queen is so out of touch. Go. Away. Elton. You do not represent the gay community in any way, shape or form. Go. Away."
"Old and in the way."
"Elton John had great music in the 70s...now he is an old annoying queen. Go to bed, Elton."
"Elton John is a left over 20th Century Uncle Tom who's obviously happy with the scraps mainstream society has thrown his way. Pity that."
"This shitface has no idea what he's talking about."
"Fuck that fat Queen and the shit that spews from her fat mouth."

That's right, go ahead an turn on your own kind.

I guess if you are African-American and gay, you should probably avoid the big rallies planned around the country for this Saturday. You wouldn't be welcome, anyway. It is apparently your fault that gays can't marry in most states.

Keep pushing, you militant morons. In a world of laws and majority rule, you're inviting the kind of push-back that will only make things worse. Keep giving the opposition video clips to incite the masses against us. Go ahead and attack African-American gays and blame them for the way things are. Keep calling anyone who disagrees with you, or perhaps holds a wiser, less combative view nasty names. Go on discrediting the leaders and public figures who can help to make a difference.

I thought this kind of attack politics and negativity was soundly defeated when Obama won the race for President. It may have worked for the Republicans (Bush/Cheney) in the short run, but in the end, it bit them in the ass. The same thing will happen to us. It will unify the opposition and they will push us all the way back to the closet.

Gay pride? Not today. I'm just ashamed, annoyed, and frightened about the future you are creating for me.

The Crotchety Old Man

The Gay Rights Movement

I will admit that I was disappointed, and even a little hurt, that gay rights propositions were defeated in California, Florida, Arizona and Arkansas. I wasn't, however, surprised. I've been out for almost 30 years now which is long enough to see how far we've come. It also makes me old enough to know that this kind of change happens over a very long period of time.

I'm shocked and dismayed by the words and deeds of some of my gay brothers and sisters in response to these defeats. I understand their outrage. But in no way does that justify the hateful comments appearing on many blogs. Hatred toward Mormons and others that campaigned for Proposition 8 is over the top. Hate breeds hate, and is born out of fear and ignorance. I really thought because of our own experience we were better than that. Apparently not. It's like Karl Rove is now in charge of the gay agenda.

I was appalled by the treatment of the little old lady who foolishly ventured into a gay rally bearing a cross. I don't agree with her beliefs, but she is entitled to them and has every right to voice them. Rude and obnoxious behavior by the big gay bullies at the rally does not help our cause one little bit. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that footage will show up in churches all over the place. Thanks guys. Trampling crosses and roughing up old ladies is going to win us a lot of friends...NOT!

I'm stunned by the hateful and racist comments that are posted on Joe.My.God in response to an article by Jasmyne Connick that dared to suggest equal rights for African-Americans are more important than gay rights. Let me be very clear here--the fact that I am gay is not a choice. That I choose to let others know that I am gay IS a choice, and that's what makes gay rights very different from civil rights for African-Americans.

Other than not being able to marry (and missing out on the privileges that go with marriage), I have never, ever been discriminated against because of my sexual preference. I venture to say there are very few African-Americans who can say that they have never, ever been discriminated against because of their race. It's apples and broccoli--not even in the same food group.

It's interesting to me that the reaction to the defeat of Proposition 8 in California is so much more than any reaction to the losses in Florida, Arizona, and especially, Arkansas. The Arkansas initiative that outlawed adoptions by gays and lesbians was really a much bigger deal because gays and lesbians have been able to adopt and serve as foster parents in many states for a very long time. In my view, it represents a bigger step backward than the marriage initiatives. Why isn't there more of an outcry from the gay community?

Because Arkansas is not California, and doesn't count. I hear a lot about stereotyping--that gay white America is largely affluent. I don't know if that' s true or not, but it sure looks that way. How else do you explain the obvious air of privilege and the strong sense of entitlement that pervades the movement? Much of what I read sounds like something I'd expect from Republicans. Being sore losers is not attractive, and it won't help us move forward.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. It's the only way to gain respect, and with respect, rights. Strident, bitchy, over-the-top rhetoric isn't helping. It just makes us all look bad.

Crotchety

New Gay.Com Still Sucks

Now that we've had a few weeks to explore and use the new gay.com, I find little reason to change my view that it sucks. Apparently, I'm not alone. The main topic of conversation in the few rooms I visit, next to politics, is how much people hate the new gay.com. In fact, I'd say we haven't seen such a flop since New Coke.

The number of users in the rooms I frequent at any one time is significantly less than what it was before the launch. I'm guessing this is in part the result of non-paying members only being able to be in one room at a time. I suspect, however, that it's at least partially due to a serious decline in gay.com visitors. At least here in Athens, Manhunt is now the cruise site of choice. To be fair, Manhunt had already eclipsed gay.com prior to the launch so the new gay.com is not entirely to blame.

I've always used Gayboi's chat client. It was the only way to prevent the adbots that plagued gay.com from harassing me. I guess you could say that integrating a botguard into gay.com is an improvement. But it's an improvement that comes with a few negatives.

When using the chat client, if someone made a comment in the room, I could easily find the profile for that person. All you had to do was click on the list of folks in the room and type the first letter of the screenname. Quick and easy. Now you have to scroll down a list that at least on my computer, bounces around a lot in an annoying way.

Another feature I liked was the ability to view all the pictures of those in a particular room. That is no longer possible on the new gay.com. I will say that it's a bit of a plus for nonpaying members to be able to view up to 3 pictures in a profile compared with only the main picture with the old software.

I also liked being able to see who was in a room before I actually entered it. If that's still possible, I can't figure out how to do it. Instead I find myself popping in to nearly empty rooms and then exiting to find a room with at least a few people in it that chat.

I don't like the way biolines are handled with the new gay.com, either. In the past if you clicked on the screenname you could see whatever they put on their bioline. Now only a truncated version of the bioline appears, and you have to scroll over it in just the right way to see the rest.

The good news is that I use gay.com exclusively for entertainment purposes. With the new gay.com, I find I spend considerably less time in the chatrooms than I did before, and I guess that's a good thing. It gives me more time to blog!

The Crotchety Old Man

Gay Republicans

I've never really understood how it's possible to be both gay and Republican. I know I'm old school gay. Sorta. I'm not what you'd call artsy, or fashionable either for that matter. Even so, I have never voted for a Republican presidential candidate. I could, in theory. I just haven't had a reason to do so up to (and including) now.

I read an article a while back suggesting that the presence of gay Republicans is a good thing. It's a sign that being gay has become so accepted that even uptight conservatives are able to come out. Maybe that's it.

I know we sure have a lot of them here in Georgia. The chat rooms are full of them. I like the one who calls himself Cute_Republican. Of course he doesn't have a picture in his profile. In fact, most of the guys that are advocating for McCain and Palin in the chat rooms don't have pictures in their profiles. Interesting.

I've always lived in a red state. Even before we talked about red and blue states, I lived where Republicans ruled the political landscape. Just another reasons I'm...

The Crotchety Old Man

My Blogging Experiment...Continued

The first thing I do every morning is sign in to Google Analytics to see how many folks read my blog the day before. I'm not sure what most of the stuff in these reports means, but I'm pleased to see that I have around a dozen visits every day. Some days I have more--as many as 30--and other days I have less. But most the time I'm hitting right around 12 or 13.

One thing is clear--I need to find a better way to promote my blog. Posting the URL in my bioline and hanging out in chat rooms on gay.com has got me this far. Because of this strategy, however, my most popular posting is "New and Improved Gay.Com Sucks." My postings on other topics aren't nearly as popular. But that's ok, I'm doing this mostly for me anyway so I'll keep blogging gayly forward.

Gradually I've added some of the "gadgets" available from blogspot. I like the "labels" directory. Seems to me it makes it easier for my dozen readers to find the postings they most want to read.

I'm less satisfied with My Blog List. It's not about the blogs I'm following. The problem is that I've had a hard time finding blogs I want to follow. A lot of the gay blogs are too focused on porn. Most of the political gay blogs post more or less the same stuff. If you have some suggestions, I'd love to hear about them.

The other day I added AdSense. I was startled to see ads for Ann Coulter and the Republican National Committee appear. I don't think I'll be getting much revenue from them. In fact, given my huge following--the bored dozen--I'm not likely to get much revenue anyway. But the odds would improve if the ads were more relevant to my political views. It's not like I've been tight-lipped about them or anything.

If you're not familiar with AdSense, my revenue will keep accumulating until I make my first $100. Then they'll send me a check. I hope I live long enough. Anyone interested in starting a pool to guess the date I'll get my first check?

Thanks for reading, and tell your friends! I need all the help I can get. In the end, however, success might keep me from being...

The Crotchety Old Man

Biology and Gay Marriage

I read about a straight couple--the Galloways--that opposes gay marriage for "biological reasons." This argument revolves around marriage purely for procreation, with marriage between a man and a woman as the best way to raise children. Even though they are Christians, they refuse to use religion to defend their position.

They are not--emphasize not--bigots. Ha! The husband goes on to argue that he can't possibly be a bigot when he's looking out for society as a whole. They are just trying to protect "the foundation of society." I'm laughing so hard it hurts!

Watch for the Religious Right to jump on this like white on rice. Turns out the Galloways are childless, but not for lack of trying. Annul that marriage! What about couples that don't want children? This is a very slippery slope. Is this good news for transexuals?

And if biology becomes the determining factor, there's a lot of gray there. Are we going to require a chromosome check? You can only marry if between the two there is an XX and an XY? Turns out, nature isn't that neat and tidy.

If you ask me, we should prevent stupid people (like the Galloways) from marrying and having children. I'm not a bigot. I'm just trying to protect society.

The Crotchety Old Man

More Crap in Profiles

OK, I'll admit that three postings on this one inane topic are at least two too many. But I can't help myself. Every time I think I'm done, I see something else that I just have to write about.

I'm amazed that so many people put in their profiles that they are looking for someone clean. Is hygiene that much of a problem? I know some guys are into "aromas" -- and we ain't talking cologne. In fact, most that say they are into aromas are pretty specific that they are not into cologne. Same with deodorant.

Today I've noticed that all the guys who have "hot" in the screen name or who specify in their profile that they are hot, aren't. Unlike "clean" which may not be readily apparent online, hot can usually be discerned by the pics included in the profile. Of course, a lot of these guys don't use their own pics--but that's an entirely different issue.

A fair number of guys claim to give the best head in Georgia. That makes me laugh. If we were to conduct a national survey of gay men to find out who gives the best head, I predict that everyone would have one vote. I've yet to meet a gay man that didn't claim to give the best head. Loving what you do increases the chances that you do it well--but doesn't guarantee it.

More than anything, reading profiles helps me to appreciate that I'm not on the market. I feel the same way after a night out on the town. If I was single, even more than I already am I'd be...

The Crotchety Old Man