Articles tagged with: theG
A few weeks ago, I suffered a birthday. At my age, I no longer care to celebrate birthdays. I merely endure them, as inconspicuously as possible, and hope no one else remembers. I am none too thrilled about getting older. I feel okay, but age does strange and disturbing things to the body. Plus, society in general tends to be a bit youth-obsessed, and gay men in particular can be extremely ageist. I’ve tried to keep myself in relatively decent shape; however, over the years, my skin has lost a considerable amount of elasticity, and I find that exercise doesn’t have quite the impact it once did. Mercifully, people rarely think that I look my age. Although, I’m not sure how my age is supposed to look. I consider it to be case-specific. I believe that genetics and self-improvement play a substantial role in determining how one does or does not display the influence of time. Personally, I often think I’m gross. And occasionally, I suffer, to varying degrees, from feelings of obsolescence. I’ve tried to rise above it, but it never fully dissipates. Being single doesn’t really help all that much.
To be crystal clear, I think “loss of innocence” is not about “discovery of shame,” and I am not equating same-sex marriage with anything shameful, wrong or naughty. But let the lessons be taught by real-world couples who live with dignity, out of love, and with the occasional marriage license. Let the lesson be taught because OUR neighbors live life honestly, in the open. This is our fight, this is our opportunity. Do we really want to hand the job over to, well, hand puppets?
Personal Narratives »
The rainbow is such an amazing symbol and one that I am so proud to have as a representation of my community. The rainbow is about lots of beautiful things individually coming together to create something even more breathtaking. Nearly every person at the National Equality March was sporting a rainbow of some kind, be it on their shirt, a small flag, a bracelet, a home-knitted scarf, or even a flag that stretched across the entire street and had to be held by over 30 people. And that color and light was reflected in all of our faces. I often found myself just looking around in awe of all the smiling and beautiful people around me. There was a palpable energy in the air. It was a mixture of excitement, hope, anger, and laughter. But, like the rainbow, the combination was breathtaking.
Personal Narratives »
My real concern is about how our community defines violence and who we label as criminals. Boystown residents are scared for their lives, but many of them have instant access to safety. For instance, has anyone spoke about the fact that this highly-circulated video of the public Boystown stabbing was shot on a small camera, by the owners standing on their private balcony. They weren’t in any harm’s way. But if you read most news reports, it would seem that the residents of Boystown were under direct attack. While robberies and muggings occur, a majority of the fighting is not only black on black, but gay on gay crime. I reluctantly share that a lot of illegal activity happens all the time in Boystown (and in most gay spaces in general.) Who is able to get away with it is a different story, and there’s a big difference on the types of bodies policed.
Notorious flagship tote bag dispensary “Human Rights Campaign and Action Center and Store” on Connecticut Avenue totally got roughed up last night, according to TNG’s shadow-mercenary queer terrorist double-agent informants, who alerted us by way of a glamorously high-stakes and sexually tense Bond-like dead drop on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial. A group going by the eminently unGoogleable name of “The Right Honorable Wicked Stepmothers’ Traveling, Drinking, and Debating Society and Men’s Auxiliary” took credit for the action, citing the inspiration of the Stonewall Riots in a playfully overcaffeinated liberal arts grad sort of press release certain to win them thousands of adoring fans in the relaxed, prank-loving, not-in-the-least-bit-politically-curmudgeonly gay blogosphere:
I shuffled down the hall into Andrea’s room and sat on her floor in the middle of the rug. Looking down at the threads, at nothing in particular, I mumbled to her, “I……….. like guys.” She was the first person I had come out to… sober, that is. But my awkwardness was transformed by Andrea’s immediate response: “That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!” Her excitement changed an uncomfortable and self-doubting moment into a source of pride for me.
Being gay isn’t something I have been proud of, in and of itself. But I take pride in how I have handled what I consider the fallout of being gay.
During this gay pride month of June, I hope we’ll all take some time to assess what we’re so damn proud of. I’ve made that list, and “being gay” isn’t anywhere on it. Do I take my sexuality for granted, or am I ungrateful?
I’m proud of Mark, the man as he is today. I’m proud of my brother for keeping the bullies away. And I’m proud at my success, day by day, of recovering from addiction and having a purpose.
I don’t usually click Facebook ads. As the guys here can attest, if you list yourself as a man interested in men, pretty much all you get are ads for laser hair removal, dubious gay dating websites, and Bonobos ads that talk presumptuously about how your boyfriend’s ass would look in their khakis. Earlier this week, though, I saw an ad from an organization called DropFox, asking me to click to show support for an action calling on Orbitz to withdraw support from Fox News. Bearing no great love for holier-than-thou manipulative sideshow anger-theater, I clicked.