Yet another apartment inspection tomorrow, so I've been cleaning. I hurt my back while dusting under my desk. That's wonderful. The Republicans have steadily drummed it into the minds of the gullible that half the people receiving public assistance are layabouts living like royalty. That means there’s always pressure on Congress to increase the regulations and to make the bureaucracy ever more elaborate. Did you know that more than half of the people who are approved for HUD assistance never get their vouchers because Washington has made the process so difficult that applicants are unable to find anyone who will accept the voucher, and if they do, they don’t have apartments that HUD will approve of. You wouldn’t believe all the rules and regulations and paperwork. The government turns its back on Wall Street bankers, but they have me and an army of bureaucrats exchanging forms and bank statements all year long, and they’ve got a guy coming out here to look at my toilet four times a year.

I’m sick. I have post traumatic stress and extreme social phobia. I do not want strangers poking around in my house, looking in the cupboards and closets. It upsets me. And what the hell would I do if they found a leak that management refused to fix and they cut out my subsidy? I could very easily end up homeless. Just imagine old people and people dying of cancer trying to deal with this shit. And on top of everything else, I get to scroll down my newsfeed on Facebook and see “friends” demanding drug tests for people like me. Assholes. I guess they’re afraid I might enjoy myself for five minutes while living in this dump. I think they should be subjected to a drug test and a full body cavity search if they want to use a public toilet or walk on a sidewalk. We can’t be too careful, you know.

If I Had A Fortune To Spend

A friend recently asked if I had the money, would I live in a house like Downton Abbey. This was my reply:

If I had a fortune to spend, I can't imagine using it to live in a house like Downton Abbey. I might donate some money to maintain it so long as it was open to the public and operated as a museum house.

I'm a long time fan of the PBS series This Old House, so I can imagine the restoration and preservation of historic buildings might become a hobby.

I would love to travel more. And traveling in comfort on long trips would be especially nice. I'm not afraid of flying, but airports make me very nervous, as does buying tickets, checking in luggage, etc. Just having someone there with me to keep me calm would be a huge help. I've never been on a long flight, but I imagine spending more than ten hours confined to a small, cheap seat would be torture. My own private plane or chartered plane might be very nice, but I think two first class tickets would be luxurious enough. One for me, and one for my social secretary/traveling companion/"luggage lifter". (He would probably be in his early to mid 20s. Physical type: slim, boyish with a pretty face. LOL )

Of course I would see to it that my novels are published and promoted. And I would also like to produce documentaries and feature films about LGBT people.

I would like to promote a number of causes like green energy and LGBT rights...do my bit to make the world a better place.

My dream is to have a cottage or a cabin in the woods not far from a town with a train station or an airport so that I would have some place to shop for supplies and I could travel. If I had a fortune, the cottage might become a little more elaborate. I think I'd want to keep the cottage feel, but it would be nice to have a few luxuries...like a guest cottage for friends, maybe a small barn for exercise equipment and a pool table, a small swimming pool and a hot tub and a sauna. And it would be really nice if I had enough wooded acreage for my own walking trail...a half mile loop that surrounds the house and the out buildings. I think I would like it to be near White Sulphur Springs or Lewisburg, WV. There's an Amtrak station in White Sulphur Springs, and a small airport in Lewisburg. The Greenbrier Hotel is in White Sulphur Springs, too. It's a famous luxury hotel, so if I had guests who didn't want to be out in the woods with me, I could put them up there.

I don't like the colder months in WV, so I would winter in Key West. I'd go down there after Christmas and stay until the middle of April. I'd want to go back to WV in time to see the spring leaves and the fruit trees and dogwoods in blossom.

There are a few business enterprises I think I might be interested in--besides producing films. I think I would like to open a camp or a retreat in WV for gay men, sort of like Yosemite's Camp Curry. And maybe a theater nearby for the general public. There are so few cultural opportunities in WV. I think the locals and the tourists would love to see a play now and then in the evening. I know I would, and going all the way to New York to see a professional play can be a bit much even if you do have plenty of money. It’s not likely that either venture would make money, but if they mostly broke even, I'd be happy. I'd feel like I was providing a useful service that made my customers happy.

Emotional Honesty

When I was growing up, my father would always ask if I had a good time every time he took me some place. I soon learned that he didn’t want to hear the truth. He just wanted me to say that I had a good time. Saying how I really felt became an act of defiance, and he would make me pay for it by acting hurt which caused me to feel guilty. He did that kind of thing to me all the time. He let me know that he didn’t want to really know me or understand me. He just wanted me to say the words he wanted to hear. And of course when I realized that I was gay, I knew he definitely didn’t want to hear about that, so I kept it all inside.

Eventually all of this made me feel alone and isolated. But it also made me doubt that I was a real person. I suppressed so much that I began to wonder if I had feelings and opinions like other people. When people outside the family asked me what I thought, I couldn’t answer them. I didn’t know. I wasn’t used to talking about my inner life. And I also didn’t trust other people enough to tell them the truth. And I couldn’t simply tell them what they wanted to hear because I didn’t know them well enough for that.

My father didn’t want to hear the truth, and he would punish me with emotional blackmail if I was truthful. And my mother would sometimes react in wildly irrational ways if I ever slipped and told her what was really going on in my life. She’d sometimes call parents of classmates or teachers on the telephone and threaten to kill them, for instance. She sometimes did that without me saying anything.

After a while, it nearly drove me crazy. It was like Chinese water torture. Walking on eggshells doesn’t seem so bad if you do it for a few hours or a day or two now and then, but if you have to do it every day and you know nothing else, there comes a point when you just can’t stand it any more.

Emotional honesty is very important.  That's something I've learned in life. 

I really hate the idea of people forgoing sex and romantic relationships because of religious beliefs that were, in my opinion, created by human beings who did not fully understand or appreciate human nature. I think if spirituality has any validity, it stems from being true one’s heart, not an artificial doctrine.

I think it’s high time that our society accept the fact that some of us are attracted to members of our own sex. We, as a group, don’t pose any more of a threat than any other group. We are not mentally ill. We are not confused. Our attractions are not meant to be rebellious. And we can’t simply turn straight if we want to.

Heterosexuality and the propagation of our species in no way hinges on hostility toward homosexuality. Homosexual feelings are not “temptations” that one succumbs to. Homosexual feelings do not drive out heterosexual feelings. Most will have strong heterosexual attractions no matter if homosexuality is treated as a threat or not. Just as homosexuality has survived despite hundreds of years of overt hostility and suppression. No matter how hostile the culture, some of us experienced sexual and romantic attractions to members of our own sex, and some of us acted on those feelings.

Over the last 150 years, we have become increasingly aware of these facts, so we should change our laws, institutions, customs and mores accordingly. We are not going anywhere, and to continue to discriminate against us either by ignoring us and our needs or by treating us as a threat would be unspeakably cruel.  

If I have a soul, I don’t think its value or its savageability depends on me accepting anyone’s religious beliefs. If religion has a purpose, I think it’s to help believers to live their lives. I don’t think it makes anyone more acceptable or worthy. And I also think that wisdom is significant no matter where you find it. If there is more to life than meets the eye, maybe we need supposedly “holy” places and supposedly “sacred” words, images and rituals because our limited perception prevents us from realizing that everything is a revelation.

Dionysian Spirit

I’m not a very social person. I don’t like excessive amounts of alcohol. I’ve never taken illicit drugs except for poppers a few times. It was like smelling a cleaning solvent, so I don’t what all the fuss is about. I don’t think my dancing experience was enhanced by making me think of cleaning the kitchen sink. I have taken my share of controlled substances, but they were prescribed by a doctor. They serve their purpose, but I don’t think of myself as partying when I take them.

But I grew up in an environment where not only was homosexuality denounced, but sex and nudity and pleasure in general were viewed as suspect. We were all very careful to keep ourselves covered up, and no one hardly ever mentioned sex. And when it was mentioned, it was never celebrated. According to my father, only crazy and dangerous people indulged in alcohol and drugs. He was convinced that someone who merely smoked a joint was likely to kill you with an ax without provocation.

After having all that drilled into my head, I became rather fascinated with the Dionysian spirit. There’s a part of me that just wants to let go of all the fear and restraint, and I look on with wide-eyed wonder when I see others letting go of their inhibitions--naked bike rides, Burning Man, Mardi Gras, Pride…

A friend of mine once jokingly accused me of being a mattress back. When I objected, she corrected herself. She said I was a mattress back wannabe.

I'm Gay

I’m gay. I’m not confused about this. I really am attracted to men, and women not so much. My parents were pretty nutty, but a lot of parents are nutty to some extent. My father’s masculinity didn’t frighten or intimidate me, and my mother didn’t give me baths when I was in high school. I was never sexually molested when I was a kid. Never had any drug or alcohol problems. Never engaged in sex compulsively or excessively.

Can I tell you why I’m gay? No. But I don’t think my feelings need to be explained. They are what they are. However, some think that people like me need to justify ourselves. These people are generally assholes in my opinion.

Any time I hear these “ex-gay” and NARTH people or Christianists go down their list of unscientific and unproven “reasons” why people like me exist and why our “lifestyle” is so bad, it’s like I’m listening to someone from another planet. They deliberately distort, exaggerate and make things up.

They’re trying to make people like me feel ashamed. And they’re trying to make straight people afraid of those like me. I will not lend any credence to the idea that they simply believe one thing, and I believe something else. They are liars and con artists and lunatics out to do harm to people like me, including young people who are still dependent on their families.

Religious liberty is guaranteed by the Constitution, and I respect that. I think people should be allowed to believe what they want, and profess their beliefs, and to worship as they see fit. But that doesn’t mean I respect every religious belief going. If you believe that people like me are sinners, or if you believe people like me deserve punishment, or death, or eternity in hell, then I think your religion is shit. I don’t say that just to be profane. I mean that I think your religion is excremental, something foul and disgusting, something that poses a threat to health and wellbeing, something that should be flushed away.

If I seem intolerant and unyielding, just remember that it is you who decided to stand in judgment of me. I don’t claim anyone should go to hell. I don’t claim anyone has to follow my rules or believe what I believe before they are worthy of the love of any god.

I’m single and I don’t pursue sexual contact with anyone because I have PTSD and intense social phobia. A lot of people are single and don’t engage in sex for long periods of time for a variety of reasons. That doesn’t mean sex and sexuality are unimportant. I’m still gay. And I still enjoy and celebrate my attraction. I wish things had been easier for me. And I wish I had been braver when I was young. It makes me so happy when young men refuse to be restrained and let their homo fires flame proudly and openly.

Steve Antin

Then:

Now:

Steve Antin played Rick in The Last American Virgin (1982).

I saw The Last American Virgin when I was in high school. It’s one of those raunchy sex exploitation films for teenagers. There’s a few good laughs, but unlike Porky’s and many of the others, LAV isn’t a light comedy. It has a rough edge to it. The main character Gary, played by Lawrence Monoson, is insecure, not exactly a social success, and he is desperate to fit in, make friends and find a girlfriend. The film has some fun with that, but real angst runs deep throughout the story. You feel Gary’s pain, and he gets his heart broken in the end, too. But before then, he and his buddies Rick and David have a few randy adventures. Rick and David are a couple of sleazy, self-centered boys who treat girls like sex objects, and Gary allows himself to be pushed around by them.

Like many teenagers, I was drawn to the film because it was about boys my age, and it dealt with sexuality in a direct, if at times brutal way. When you’re in your mid to late teens, and you’ve been having pornographic thoughts since you were 11, and you might even have some sexual experience, and all the adults in your life still talk to you like you are eight years old, and most of the movies you see and books you read are very coy about the subject of sex, it’s a great relief to see a film that doesn’t beat around the bush…so to speak. I also related to Monoson’s character Gary. He was so awkward and insecure, and what he really wanted, besides sex, was love and friendship. That’s what I wanted as well, and like the Gary in the movie, I didn’t really know how to go about getting those things.

I suspected that Monoson was gay even if his character wasn’t, and that was another reason why I was drawn to the film. There was something about his mannerisms, the way he looked, and the sound of his voice that made me think he was gay. I didn’t know for sure, and that bothered me. I wished like hell that there was some way of finding out. And I wished his character had been gay.

I thought Monoson was cute, but Antin was the one I thought was sexy. Antin’s character was very into girls, and I assumed that Antin himself was straight. My gaydar didn’t go off when I was looking at him.

Funny thing is, about fifteen years later, he played a gay man in the independent film It’s My Party (1996), and then about ten years after that, I found out that he is gay, and he had been out in Hollywood, if not to the public at large, from the start. He was even David Geffen’s boyfriend for a while.

Golly, I wish there was some way to let my teenage self know about Antin. He would have been thrilled.

　

　

　



Humility, It's Not Just For Breakfast Anymore

Lots and lots of people were told that being gay is a sin while they were growing up, but only some spread the shit that was taught to them. It’s one thing to believe something that’s harmful because Mommy and Daddy and the preacher man said so, but it’s another to teach it to someone else.

I’ve noticed that Christians are often very forgiving of other Christians who lead people astray in the name of their religion. This seems to only feed the cycle of fake wisdom, followed by harm and more fake wisdom. I have never heard so many unsubstantiated beliefs stated as incontrovertible facts as when I’m around Christians. I personally think that it’s high time for the overwhelming majority of Christians the world over STFU and eat some humble pie. (That probably goes for those who aren’t Christian, too.) They need to stop telling people that they know things that they clearly do not know just because they have faith. Just because you think you know something does not mean that you do. People are listening, and if you lead someone over a cliff, they’re going to fall right along with you.

“I will not deceive, not even myself; and with that we stand on the ground of morality.” --Friedrich Nietzsche
“I know nothing but of my own ignorance.” --Socrates

Hamlet's Soliloquy

I’ve always found Hamlet’s soliloquy--“To be or not to be…”--to be profound and insightful. I think Hamlet states our basic predicament in a way that’s so eloquent and poetic that it strips away the cobwebs and helps us see ourselves in a more direct light. Back in my twenties when I experienced suicidal depression, I would often get out my copy of the play and read the soliloquy because it helped clarify my emotions, and that helped me manage my darker feelings. I don’t know if the character Hamlet was based on a real person. If he is, I don’t know if the real Hamlet ever said anything remotely like the character in the play. I’m aware that some have suggested that Shakespeare may not actually be the author of the plays that are attributed to him. Interesting academic questions, but I can’t see what difference to makes in regards to how Hamlet’s soliloquy has personally impacted my life. I don’t need to know for certain that the story of Hamlet is historically factual. I don’t need to know for certain that Shakespeare was the literary god many assume him to be. I don’t need everyone in the world to accept Hamlet’s soliloquy as their own personal touchstone. I don’t need for everyone in the world to appreciate it and interpret just the way I do.

Saved

As many of you know, I am from West Virginia. It’s a place that is steeped in a certain kind of Christianity. Of course, just like any place across much of the United States, you will find a variety of denominations. But I would say that at least half of the Christians in the area are in the evangelical, fundamentalist, Bible-believing camp. They talk about “the Scriptures” as being “the Word of God.” They talk about being “born again.” And they have no qualms about asking you, “Have you accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as your personal savior?” They also divide the world into two groups, those who have been “saved” and those who have not.

Rather than thinking of themselves as merely believers or converts or adherents to a particular faith or tradition, they claim to have been “saved.” Of course if you directly ask them, they will claim that their god loves everyone. But most will insist that if you don’t believe what they believe, repent of what they claim to be sin, then their god will judge you and reject you even though he supposedly loves you. But they don’t have to worry about being on their god’s shit list anymore because they have been “saved.”

Whether or not they want to accept it, this conceit allows them to think of themselves as special and more deserving than others who aren’t “in the club.” They believe they know “the truth” and that there is little to learn from anyone else. Those who are not “saved” are not favored by their god. They may like you. You might be a beloved family member, a friend, a next door neighbor, but if you are not “saved”, then, in their eyes, there is something seriously wrong with you. And often times they see it as their mission to try to get you to accept their religious beliefs so you can be “saved”, too.

During my father’s viewing, one of his longtime friends came up to me while I was standing right beside my father’s casket and asked if I believed all the “right” things and if I had been “saved.” He claimed that approaching me in this way was an act of charity on his part because my father, who had been “saved”, was going the Heaven, and he would surely want me to go there, too. The implication being that I wouldn’t be allowed to go to Heaven unless I had been “saved.”

Nearly every funeral I have attended included a sermon delivered by a preacher who warns the mourners that one day, perhaps very soon, they will die. And he tells them that they must believe certain things in order to be “saved.” They also add that it’s best to proclaim your beliefs so that loved ones will know that you have been “saved” and that they will be able to reunite with you in Heaven.

This attitude is something that I had a hard time stomaching. And it’s not simply because I’m gay. It’s more to do with the underlying arrogance. They come at you as if they already know all the important things, and if you’re not “saved”, then nothing you have to say could be of much value. And it really is that overt and belittling. It leads to division, animosity, hurt feelings, discrimination, dehumanization, and on a large scale, it can lead to persecution and even war.

I think that if there is a god, then we are all saved. Some might have more wisdom and insight than others, and this might help them accept and enjoy life, but if any one of us has worth in a cosmic and grand sense, I think we all do. And I reject the idea that people have to jump through certain hoops, claim to believe certain things before they’re worthy of being saved. If there is a god, the idea that this god will throw billions of us away at the end of time, or punish us in hell for all eternity, just because we didn’t bow and scrape in just the right way is repugnant to me.

Nine Years Ago

My mother started complaining of back pain in September of 2003. She was diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic inflammatory breast cancer in early December. Her condition was terminal, but her doctors thought they could extend her life by two or three years with treatment. They gave her radiation and chemo, and the plan was to operate in the spring.

We were all in a state of shock at first. She went to the doctor because she had a backache, and after a series of tests, we learned she was dying. But her treatment went well. Her tumors shrank, and she even started to feel better. I began to believe that I would have her around for a while longer. I imagined that there would even be some good times before the inevitable.

Then on the evening of February 4, 2004, my father knocked on my door and told me that my mother had a temperature. He asked me if he should call the nurse. I told him yes. I was in charge of digesting all the information the doctors and the hospital gave us, and I read that because mother’s immune system had been compromised by the treatment, any sign of fever should be dealt with immediately. It was a sign of infection that she might not be able to fight off without help.

Dad called the nurse who advised him to take her to the ER. Because of the condition of Mother’s back, she had to go in an ambulance, and Dad and I followed in our car. They took mother to an examination room and Dad and I waited in the waiting room. After a couple of hours, we were called back. The ER doctor informed us that Mother had a touch of pneumonia. A touch. A mere touch. She said it wasn’t anything to be alarmed about, and that she just needed some antibiotics, but because she was a cancer patient, she needed to stay in the hospital.

Dad and I went home that night thinking Mother would be discharged in a day or two. We were wrong.

I don't expect to be friends with everyone I meet. If someone can't accept me and respect me and love me for who I am, and if they don't believe I'm as deserving of civil and human rights as they are, then what's the point? I'm finished walking on eggshells and wondering if the people in my life will reject me if they know who I really am.