Houston, We No Longer Have a Problem

I just want to send a shout out to the city of Houston. 53.6% of you were able to look past Annise Parker's sexual orientation and evaluate her credentials. You are the largest Texas city to ever elect an openly gay mayor. Kudos!

Dallas was so close... maybe next time?

God of Convenience

I hope everyone had a very safe, happy, and cherished Thanksgiving yesterday! Although I was unable to spend it with my family due to work, I'm thankful to be one of 89.8% of Americans that's not padding unemployment statistics right now. Instead, it was a day of thanks, friends, co-workers.... and football!

Last night, my Texas A&M Aggies played against the Texas Longhorns, in which we were heavy underdogs. A rivalry such as this becomes very important when you have a best friend rooting on the other team. We butted heads last night, and for the most part, kept dialogue to a minimum. But, when the Longhorns won a very good, close game, I was irked when their quarterback approached a news reporter and started spouting off about God, and how he's an awesome God, and the Lord Almighty this, that, and the other.

Of course, being deeply religious and proud of a close relationship with God is nothing for me to be hating about. I'm glad that young athletes embrace their religious roots. However, this little episode reinforces why I'm suspicious of athletes and this outpouring of religion on a football field - especially as a sideswipe answer to the reporter's actual question.

You see, last time the Longhorns were at our home field, things didn't end so well for them. They lost to a heavy underdog 38-30, and the Aggies helped sabotage their season. This same quarterback, Colt McCoy, sang a drastically different tune after that loss. There was no awesome God, Allah, Budda, Sheeba, and whoever else roams the divine clouds - only the evil, Satanic claws of defeat, pain, and angst. It was talk about what went wrong... what to improve on... you know, "football talk"... not "God-is-great talk".

What kind of message are we sending when we only show public displays of divine affection when we either win or get something we want? Perhaps if I had seen him on his knees thanking God for not suffering any life-threatening injuries in such a high collision sport, he'd have more credibility in my eyes.

With that said, I wish both sides all the best. There's a lot of talent and leadership that will aid many of these guys in their journey to greatness. But the next time one kneels after a touchdown and blows a kiss to the Heavens, I hope he/she can publicly acknowledge that there are blessings in defeat as well.

Happy Holidays everybody, and make it a great day!

Vacation in Chile

I really didn't know what to expect when I arrived here in Santiago, Chile a few days ago. Of course, the usual questions roamed through my head when visiting foreign locations. How many Black people would I see? What is gay/lesbian life like here?

My intentions were to visit Buenos Aires, Argentina -- a place widely considered to be less conservative than Chile. But, that didn't pan out, so I now take in the surroundings here.

The scene here seems to be quite open in a lot of ways. The pretentiousness is nowhere near levels seen in the states. I don't see men and women walking down the street in super-designer labels, perfect bodies, and perfect hair. When walking down the streets of Santiago, I get the feeling that they are who I see they are as they walk by me.

A transgender walks hand in hand with a young lady. Two lesbians embrace near the Plaza de Armas. Even the Barrio Bellavista (where most Santiago clubs seem to be) blends in with other areas in a weird, can't-put-my-finger-on-it kind of way. Maybe it's the absence of Rainbow flags marking the entrance and exits to the neighborhood, among other things?

I'm definitely heading out to one of their disco clubs tonight... and I was told that things don't really get lit up here until after 1:00AM. I'm looking forward to sampling the gay culture here, and maybe even talking with some of the local gay men and women (through translator, because my Spanish sucks) to learn what it has been, and is like living in Chile.

Racism: The Two Way Street

So, I was sitting at home enjoying a hot cup of coffee this morning when I received a very thoughtful story from my mother. In light of recent comments regarding anti-Obama sentiments linked to racism, I felt this story would serve as a reminder to keep things real on both sides of issues.

A Caucasian woman, somewhere in her mid 50s, was seated next to a Black passenger while boarding a flight from Dallas to London. She was obviously disturbed by this and eventually rang her call button to summon a Flight Attendant. A middle-aged White male quickly answered her call.

"How may I help you, Ma'am?" the Flight Attendant asked.

"Can't you tell what's wrong?" she snapped, "you placed me next to a Black man, and I don't agree with sitting next to someone from such a repugnant group. I demand to be reseated."

"Please calm down, Ma'am. This is nearly a full flight, so I will see if an empty seat is available," he replied softly. Then, he went away for a few moments and returned.

"Ma'am, just as I thought, there are no available seats in Economy class. However, I spoke to the captain and he informed me that there is a seat in First class," the Flight Attendant explained.

Before the woman could respond, he interrupted her and continued, "While it's not usual for our airline to permit someone from Economy class to sit in First class, we can certainly make an exception in this case. The Captain feels that it would be scandalous to make someone sit next to someone so disgusting."

The Flight Attendant turned to the Black man and said, "Therefore, Sir, if you would like to, please collect your carry-on luggage and join us in First class."

Witnesses to the event stood up in their seats in shock; gay and straight; Republican and Democrat; Black and White; young and old; man and woman... and they erupted into applause and cheer as the Black man was escorted to First class.

I guess no matter who we are, racism has no boundaries, and none of us are immune to its poison. Perhaps we should be careful in generalizing a particular group of people, regardless of which side of the fence we are on.

There will always be the White man that marched alongside Black men when justice eludes color. There will always be a straight man that rides on the brightest float in the Gay Pride parade. There will always be a Republican or Democrat that is willing to part with his/her own political affiliations to do what's right. Simply put, we can all be guilty, and there will always be someone that won't fit the definition of the label we've placed upon them... and they will turn us into the fool that sits on an empty row of the aircraft... marinating in our own folly.

For the woman in this true story, I feel sorry for her. Someday, she will get an organ transplant due to a life threatening illness... and I'd love to see the look on her face when she learns that her new heart came from a Black woman. Maybe, just maybe, it will open her eyes.

Texas Ban on Gay Marriage Unconstitutional

Here is the story regarding a monumental ruling by Dallas Judge Tena Callahan:

CLICK HERE

Attorney General Greg Abbott will fight the ruling tooth and nail, but at least this is a start. It's a cruel irony that the dust was kicked up because two men wanted a divorce.

Malice in Dallas?

Wow, who'd have thought that the beautiful Fountain Place tower here in Dallas would be plunged into the news two days ago? It could have been a very tragic terrorist attack, but was averted by an excellent operation performed, in part, by the FBI. Moments after the story broke, a rather vocal blogger had this to say:

"This also SCREAMS that we need to close our borders and control who comes into our country, and assure it's only with our permission and at our invitation."

Of course, the blame game continues against a myriad of targets: Obama, Bush, Democrats, Republicans, Muslims, Arabs... you name it. In the meantime, I'd love to hear this blogger's thoughts on how closing the borders and controlling who enters our country will help secure us against our own citizens... those like the American who attempted to pull off a similar terrorist act in Springfield, Illinois that very same day.

Yes, that delusional American citizen who empathizes with people such as John Walker Lindh; the deranged American, such as Timothy McVeigh, who thinks mass destruction is the answer to getting across anti-government messages. It's these people that we can't account for with border closures and immigration control, and none of us know how many homegrown nuts we truly have.

Besides... while I'm all for improved border security, protecting over 7400 miles of international border is unrealistic -- and I doubt it's the answer to plucking the homegrown nuts off the tree... or even those that follow the rules and come into our nation legitimately... only to unleash some hidden agenda in the future at some point.

Cycle of Evil, Part I

Today, I feel like I'm 52 years old. For those of you who are keeping tabs, that's almost two decades ahead of my current age. The reason is very simple, and very sad as well.

You see... earlier yesterday, I hired a younger relative to mow my yard for some extra cash, because I'm a firm believer in working for your keep. He was out of gas and out of money... stranded without employment, motivation, or a future. Plus, he's had his run-ins with the law, which has since spawned a gargantuan rift in our small family.

On one side, there are those of us that believe nurturing and understanding will eventually break the cycle of evil. On the other side (which I'm on), we seek to avoid playing the role of "enabler" -- teaching and endorsing a sense of learned helplessness and diffusion of responsibility. I just can't afford to chunk money at him carte blanche; I demand hard work for honest gains. Sadly, I've been criticized for that approach and accused of not being there for a family member.

So, imagine how upset I was when I got home from work last night and the yard wasn't completely mowed. I had also discovered that he'd somehow used an entire 2-gallon jug of gasoline for my yard, which made no sense. I swiftly concluded that he put the rest of the gasoline into his car and drove off after doing a half-ass job.

There I was, grinding my teeth, when I received a text message from him. He wanted cash for an incomplete job, so I ran up to the ATM in the middle of the night to retrieve some cash. Then, I'd give him his money after he turned on the back porch light and/or flipped on a flashlight and finished mowing the yard closest to the house. Yeah, I'm prepared to take the label of asshole for that one. I'm cool with that. Nevertheless, however strong my resolve was, it had cost me precious sleep... hence, I feel like a 52-year-old man.

I'm so frustrated with him, and I wonder what it will take to break this cycle that he and other young men like him are in. What will it take to stop the stealing, drugs, and irresponsibility? Incarceration? Well, I'm wary of the overuse of incarceration as a means of staving off criminal and irresponsible behavior... and I certainly don't think capital punishment is the ultimate answer for anyone.

I'm just thinking to myself: How many youngsters like him have gone to jail and actually come out cleansed of their deviance? Are we just feeding a cycle of evil by breeding new generations of criminal predators through incarceration? Or, are we as a society marking young deviants with a scarlet letter of eternal failure? (Play your Race of Spades card here, if you dare.. or wait until my next post to see if it can be trumped.)

More and more, I think that even if juveniles escape back into society with the determination and motivation to make themselves a better person, they will ultimately carry with them an insurmountable stigma. Just ask the Michael Vicks of society... it doesn't matter that they served their punishment... they will always be criminals in society's eye.

With that said, should we blame them if they ask themselves, "What's the point?" Should we blame them if they have the mentality that they have nothing to lose? It's a vicious cycle of evil, I tell ya.

The Phone Slave

Okay, now that I've finished up a hot bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, I finally decided to take out my mobile phone and see who's contacted me since yesterday morning. Yes, that's right... a day without answering my phone. A day without returning text messages.

I know, I know -- I hear it every day. I confess that I just plain suck at answering my mobile phone. It's not that I hate the world, or that the person that's calling me has somehow pissed in my milk... rather, some people are slaves to their phones. I'm not.

I work next to a phone that rings constantly for up to 16 hours a shift. I walk two dogs, which leaves no hands available to answer the phone. I mow a 1/2 acre lot almost constantly due to demonically-growing grass/weeds, which makes it far too noisy to hear if someone calls. I commute to and from work, and would rather not plow into an 18-wheeler talking on the phone about a sale at Armani Exchange. I don't have a phone clip to hook my phone into my belt loop and the matching t-shirt that says, "iBitch". It simply means that I have a brave, new world out there that I occasionally explore free from technology.

As I've mentioned before, I'll never understand society's dire need to take calls no matter where they are... especially the guy chatting on his phone from the confines of a stinky bathroom stall. And don't get me started with airline passengers that have to be told 50,144 times to turn their frickin' mobile phones off so we can depart on time.

*sigh* Sheep... mere sheep.

Nonetheless, I tolerate such addictions because we are all different. For those of you who are frustrated with guys like me that don't answer the phone immediately, I humbly ask for reciprocal toleration. Phones are nowhere near the top of my priority list... never have been... never will be. If it's an emergency that can't wait until I check my voice mails and return your call, chances are better if hang up and dial 9-1-1.

I'm a dinosaur... living in the past when there were no mobile phones. Please don't be mad at me or any others like me. It doesn't mean we are cheating, lying, stealing, or in the middle of something... promiscuous. It doesn't mean we are angry, reclusive, or arrogant. It just means that some of us out there are resistant to total assimilation by technology. It's nothing personal... 99% of the time... I swear.

The Three Doors

It's a cool, wet morning here in North Texas... eight years and one day removed from one of the most vicious, history-altering events of our great nation. Some spent 9/11/09 in a prolonged state of reflection. For others, like one of my friends and former high school classmates it served as a reminder of 'why he hates God... why he's now an Atheist'.

Of course, technically, he can't hate something that he doesn't believe in because that would acknowledge its existence... but it was a very bold statement to make on a worldwide stage such as Facebook or Myspace. So, for those of us who identify ourselves as Spiritual or a member of an organized religion, why was 9/11 "allowed" to happen in the first place? Why did those terrorists slaughter many Americans? What message were they really trying to send?

In my opinion, the seeds of religion run deep into the soil of countless acts of violence, oppression, and suffering that have stained this world's cloth with the blood of innocent people. Life on this planet is morphing into something that is increasingly unsustainable, and when Gayagenda.com's James Hipps challenged me with the question of how to counteract the effects of the Religious Right, this unsustainable state of affairs has become more and more apparent to me.

I believe we have reached the end of a hallway and now stand before three doors. Behind one door, there are endless acts of violence based upon unprovable beliefs that will eventually make 9/11 seem like a blip on the radar screen. Behind door number two, the disproportionate ratio of natural resources to consumers will serve as a catalyst for our arrogance, which will trigger a human-spawned Armageddon that will kill billions. And, behind door number three... there is a single shopping basket. Inside, there's logic, common sense, reason, and hard evidence -- enough to make 7 billion doses of a potion that will provide a greater sense of self-awareness. A potion that will help us see any and all outdated claims and beliefs regarding religion.

The problem is, the doors are not numbered, and we can't open more than one at a time; but one must be opened. So, how do we counteract the Religious Right? I bluntly believe that you can't make someone change... you can only poke holes in their beliefs, such as question what the Bible says about hermaphrodites. If it doesn't say anything or specifically address the implications of God's children who are born with both sexual organs, then certainly, one can draw into question the basic foundation upon which the Religious Right draws their power.

And don't even get me started about finding life on other worlds. Just think of the motives that drive those in power to ensure that we never truly know that answer unless E.T. lands on the White House lawn. Of course, if the Bible specifically addresses that scenario as well, please let me know where you find it. The bottom line is -- over time -- more events will unfold that cannot be affirmed in the Bible, and thus bring about questions that will erode the Religious Right's credibility, with or without our help. In a nutshell, Mr. Hipps... the answer is either time or opening up the door with the shopping basket behind it. Hopefully, we won't kill ourselves in the meantime.

Twist of Fate

I just wrapped up a guest appearance on James Hipps' Blogtalk radio show, featured every Wednesday on Gayagenda.com. It was truly an honor and a refreshing experience!

I was just about to crack open some wine and kick off the 3rd season of The Lair, when I ran across an article in the local news. Apparently, several pro-Gay Christian billboards have been spotted along one of Dallas/Ft. Worth's major arteries, Tom Landry Highway (Interstate 30). And so the fiery debate begins.

In an incredible twist, a woman driving down the freeway sees this gargantuan billboard and gets all riled up and pissed off... so much that she fires a scathing email stating that she didn't appreciate the Lord's words being twisted to fit someone's needs. But lady, dare I ask... Doesn't EVERYONE do that? As a matter of fact, aren't YOU doing that right now by getting upset because someone interpreted the word of God in a way that YOU didn't agree with?

While I applaud these local churches for apparently endorsing gay acceptance, one could easily argue that they 'accept' gays in their congregations and collection plates -- but not necessarily incorporate gay acceptance in their sermons.

I'll dig up more info on the five churches that sponsored these billboards and get back to ya. In the meantime, this receives a YELLOW light.

Is There an Artist In The House?

The Black Man Next Door has been working feverishly on a gay fiction novel, and things are coming along very well. A special thanks to those friends who have been very encouraging and supportive along the way. Finally, there may be light at the end of the tunnel.

Eventually, I'll have a dedicated website and a Facebook page for the work. But in the meantime, does anyone know someone that's great at book cover illustrating? GLBT or GLBT-friendly artists are welcome to hit me up for more details!

The Mt. Rainier Escape

I've spent the last week here in the Seattle area, and I must say, it's been a really fun trip. Not only did I finally make the trek to Mt. Rainier, but I also got the opportunity to do a lot of soul searching.

During my little excursion, I got a chance to hang out with some of the best co-workers I've ever been with. They were welcomed company, yet, oftentimes I felt alone in a strange way.

I laughed, drank, ate, hiked, and had a good time with very cool people -- but deep down, I knew that they would never be able to understand or relate to me on a level that gave me a true sense of belonging.

So, I have come to accept quite a few things... things I refused to accept up to this point. I've been running from some things in life and clinging to other things that just don't want to be held... situations that I can't change nor control. I've set an unrealistic bar of expectations in my personal and professional realms. I am who I am, and I can't expect everyone to touch the tip of the iceberg when it comes to understanding or relating to 'me'. The fact is -- through all of my blessings and accomplishments, there lies a thin layer of sadness that I just can't seem to shake. I feel as though life is hollow at times, filled with nothing but shallow, evil people and false hopes.

It's very hard to maintain optimism in today's world, almost overwhelmingly so. Too many people think they have all the right answers... the right ways to live... the entitlement to suppress and demean those who are different. But, as I strolled through the mountain meadows of wildflowers, I was able to escape from the jadedness and dig deep within myself to figure out if I need big changes.

There was once a very happy "Kevin"... a Black Man Next Door who always had a smile... confidence... a sense of impervious hopes and aspirations. There was no feeling of 'going through the motions'... constantly longing for the next day off from an extremely stressful job. There was purpose... meaning... and as I took in the smell of fresh, pine air, I realized that somehow, someway, I'd have to get myself back to the "Kevin" I used to be.

In order to do that, I had to list what is in my life now that was or wasn't there then. Hmmmmm... I didn't have my current job, some of my current acquaintances and friends, a house, and the memories I've built between then and now -- just to name a few.

I can't do anything about the memories and the choices that I've made along the way... only to use them as references to build something better. My house may have brought more bills upon me, but it certainly isn't my source of angst at the moment.

That leaves my job, current acquaintances, and friends. As I wandered through the snow near Mt. Rainier, I finally realized what I had to do. Like Mother Nature, I must do what I need to do to restore balance. Right now, the scale is too heavy with negative influences. The only way I can find that balance is by getting rid of that little by little until the scale is level again.

So, my dusty, rocky trails at Mt. Rainier have come to an end. Soon, I'll fly back to Dallas and grow a bigger sack of nuts that will be needed for some hard decisions ahead. A deep breath. A plane ride. A fast-beating heart. I know now what I must do.

"Honey, It's Just Broken"

So, has anyone watched the old, classic movie, "A Christmas Story"? If you have, the lamp pictured to the left should come flowing back into your memory banks. The next question is, how does this lamp end up as a blog post?

Good question. I'll get to that momentarily, I promise. In the meantime, perhaps you can relate to the nice person that brought home his/her first lover to meet the parents. Maybe you can relate to the feeling of the first kiss... the first time in the sheets... the long line of memories spawned by a relationship that you deemed to be a very special part of your life.

Now, say that life backhands you in the face, and you are betrayed by this 'special lover'. In fact, it happens over and over again until something even worse happens -- you come down with an STD, you are taken advantage of, or you are used and abused, etc. These relationships are analogous to the leg lamp from "A Christmas Story".

If you've watched the movie, you know what happens to this leg lamp, right? And how does the father respond? He attempts to glue it back together and return it quickly to its pedestal by the window. Then, the world could see its prominence and influence once again. Of course, the lamp is broken beyond repair, and no amount of glue is going to make it whole again.

In a way, perhaps the father saw this as an escape from the reality that his wife's legs will never look like that again... an escape to something that could get his hormones raging again, like they were during his younger days. Nevertheless, internal dialogue kicks into the father's brain... "Honey, It's Just Broken" ... and he gets rid of the lamp and moves on.

As I cross paths with more and more men in the dating world, I wonder to myself, when is that internal dialogue going to kick in for them? Will they run out of glue before they realize that the leg lamp will never be the same again? Will they grow tired of gluing its gaping cracks, and then worrying/wondering when it's going to come crashing down again? When will they stop ignoring the store with a Mega-Sale on premium lamps?

*Sigh* I guess some men look for a new lamp... some men buy another case of glue.

I used to be the man that spent my whole paycheck on glue... and I often wonder what kept me going back for more. Seriously, what is truly behind the difficulty in letting someone go? I can't speak for all the other guys that are still squirting glue at a broken lamp, but I used to think it was the power of sentimentality at work.

Now, I wonder if I was running from something... maybe a deep seeded fear of being alone? Maybe I was running away from some sort of inequity, deficit or surplus? Maybe the glue-squirters of the present are running from something, too?

Whatever the case may be, my key to ditching the glue was to accept that while shopping for just the right lamp, very good things can happen in the dark!

The Lost Art

So, yesterday I was at work minding my own business when "BLING!" I got new email. It was from a man (whom I'll refer to as Witch Doctor) that I was in the dialogue phase of the whole dating scene. We had seemingly developed a good rapport, but things were suddenly cut loose from his end via text message last week.

Quite honestly, I've learned to expect that most of the time -- call me jaded, that's fine. Perhaps 10, maybe even 5 years ago, I'd be pretty upset and distraught. Nowadays, I toss it over my shoulder like grains of salt. But, this e-mail I received represented a lost art in today's society. As I read his words, I honestly couldn't believe that he had sent this message... an apology.

I checked to make sure it went to the right person. The correct name was in the header... yep... he was aiming this right at me. It was a package with lost art inside -- one of the best gifts a soul can receive -- an apology.

Now, maybe you appreciate a detailed explanation embedded within an apology. Me, I don't particularly care to have explanations 99% of the time. I believe that, unlike my coffee, the less cream you add to an apology, the better and more sincere it becomes. No rationalization. No excuses. No justification.

Witch Doctor had nailed it down, and he certainly did his homework on performing this lost art in a way that I find pure and sincere. He acknowledged what happened. He said, "I'm sorry if I hurt you in any way." There was no 'blame-transfer' or anything like that.

As such, I had to thank Witch Doctor for restoring my faith in the belief that there are still people out there that care about others' feelings. To me, sincere apologies are one of the most fantastic pieces of art. I wish Witch Doctor all the best, and I hope that he finds nothing but peace and prosperity in his future.

Children of the Closet

Work and fiction writing have taken their toll on the Black Man Next Door's free time as of late. But, as I toil away at today's agenda, I had to stop and show appreciation for an article I came across on today's news.

In the war against bigotry, homophobia, and plain ignorance, perhaps our most powerful weapons are the emerging stories of children raised by gay parents. In this particular article, I love the fact that this 29-year-old man is straight and Republican -- a testament to his lesbian parents' ability to raise a child with the freedom to develop a free-thinking, healthy psyche; to forge his own path, even if his philosophies are different than his own parents. He's successful, he's bright, and he's mastered an art of love and acceptance that's admirable in its own right.

Nevertheless, I find it amazing that people like Dale O'Leary still even have legs to stand on... clinging to the belief that somehow children need a male and female parent in order to develop normally. This is a slap in the faces of single parents, as well as those of us who were raised by one.

How many of these stories will they need in order to get it?

Obama's Justice

So, Justice David Souter is the next one to retire from the U.S. Supreme Court. Although his successor probably won't shift ideological leanings one way or the other, President Obama is faced with yet another very important task of choosing Justice Souter's replacement. I'll be watching with great interest!

Mr. May

It was many years ago that I first laid eyes on Mr. May -- back in my days of watching the soap opera The Young & The Restless. Eddie Cibrian played the part of a bad young man named Matt who did some very devious things. This naughtily delicious man paid his dues and faded from the show -- never to be seen again on Y&R.

Now, this 6' 2", 35-year-old Gemini is back in my thoughts with a vengeance. Mr. May is a Cuban-American actor that any man-o-philic person can appreciate. From his lovely dimples on down to his shoes, Mr. May provides delicious candy for the wandering eye. (I'll let the pictures tell all)

Mr. May is a rather interesting man once you peel away the outer looks. Aside from an alleged affair with LeAnn Rhimes, perhaps his stint as one of the 3-member boy band 3Deep is an even tastier tidbit. Come on, 3Deep? I'm wet already.... anyway, it's been 10 years since their debut album "Yes Yes Yes... No No No".

This 1999 album featured their hit single Into You. (Now, I'm really drooling...) Nevertheless, the band wasn't as well-known here in the States as it was in Canada and other countries; if you were a follower of the soap opera Y&R, you'd definitely know Mr. May and his fellow 3Deep band member, Joshua Morrow.

So Mr. May has sex appeal... that much is apparent. Finding substance in a hottie can be a bit more challenging; for Eddie, it's there. For one, I can appreciate a romantic from time to time, and my knees stirred like soup when I read that Mr. May proposed to his lover Brandi Glanville just a few seconds before the turn of the millennium.

A man with an education is also something to appreciate, as Mr. May attended UCLA and majored in Business and Economics. He is also involved in several charities such as the Make-A-Wish Foundation.

Some other notables about Mr. May is that he enjoys football, tennis, golf, and basketball. His list of filmography includes the TV series, "Third Watch" (1999-2005), "Invasion" (2005-2006), ""Criminal Minds" (2007), and "Ugly Betty" (2008).

Mr. May -- Eddie Cibrian

Free Cat

Okay... I may not be a cat fan, but that's cold-blooded.
Dark humor to admire from time-to-time, though...

Conformity

One of the biggest ironies in my personal life was being afraid to fly, and then seeking employment with an airline to alleviate my fears. Not only did I conquer my fear in many baby steps, but I was also given the opportunity to meet and be exposed to people from all walks of life. Hence, this is where I get off into a very touchy subject that was spawned from my post on Dallas' recent smoking ban.

I remember my first encounter with a passenger that was pissed off because she couldn't smoke on the aircraft. She recalled the days where she could get up into that metal tube and light it up, and now, the evil ones that be are coming up with more and more regulations. Of course, I was a little tyke back when it was legal, and the look on her face was that of a blissfully reminiscing lady.

At this point in the conversation, there were two choices -- not just for her, but for those around her that will be indirectly affected by whatever choice she makes at this juncture. It's not just about what's fair or unfair to her, and it's not about judging her as being right or wrong... and it wasn't an attempt at personal insensitivity -- it was about conformity. The dreaded "C" word that someone, somewhere will inevitably have to endure.

So back to the choices: 1) The lady could choose not to conform and get a refund -- take a car, bus, boat, or alien spacecraft instead. 2) The lady could choose to conform and board the plane, yet refrain from smoking until she landed.

And because her choices affect those around her, those people are now confronted with choices as well. For those people, their choices are: 1) Conform to an atmosphere that they feel is personally unfavorable to their bodies and endure the flight. 2) Refuse to conform, deplane, and request a refund or another flight.

I believe that conformity blends in with choice -- and choice almost always affects more than just one person. Like it or not, someone's "freedoms" are encroached in the situation above. I chose to listen to her complain about something that was beyond my control -- yet, something for which I could see two sides to the issue. Saying "Yes, Ma'am" over and over again wasn't my way of brushing her off and being insensitive, rather, it was my duty to inform her of her choices and address the next person.

That lady paled in comparison to an issue regarding the "Customer of Size". You have an overweight passenger that feels singled out when he is told that he must pay for an extra seat IF he chooses to fly on this airline. It was a very delicate tight-rope to walk, and I empathized with the gentleman. However, there was the "other side" of the equation that suffered in silence. Again, both sides have a choice. Both sides' pursuit of life, liberty, and happiness have been encroached -- because they are on different sides of the fence. As a result, someone has to conform if they want to receive their product.

Yes, I ultimately disagreed with the gentleman, because the fact is -- he did absorb two seats. It was one less seat that could have been purchased by another passenger -- not to mention the gentleman would have been encroaching the space of the passenger next to him. Insensitive? Depends on how you look at it. Judgmental? Depends on how you look at it. Unfair? Well, what exactly is the definition of unfair, and did that apply only to the Customer in front of me?

If a non-smoker and a smoker walked up to you, both wanting to go to a bar -- the non-smoker doesn't want to smoke, and the smoker wants to smoke -- how would you personally address the issue without singling one of them out? Do you believe things like a flat tax on all income and goods would be fair, equitable and realistic -- and can we truly achieve fairness and equality across the board in this world?

Beginning of an Era

Today marks the beginning of a new era, a day of storms and cool weather here in North Texas. I got up this morning and headed for the coffee machine like I always do. But when I got there, I found a brand new coffee pot and a thank you card from my now ex-roommate. He thanked me for 4+ years of good times and a nice friendship... quite touching, actually.

When I realized that I had no filters, I came back to the bedroom and got dressed. On my way out to the grocery store, he was outside loading up a truck... and it was then that I learned something about myself.

I was too choked up for words, and I may have gotten just a bit teary-eyed. But one thing I couldn't bring myself to do was to say "goodbye". I knew once I left for the store and came back, he wouldn't be there. This was my chance... but all I could manage to say was that I'd contact him soon... not knowing if that would even be possible.

So, then I rushed into the car and sped away, leaving a vapor trail as I peeled around the corner. Now, you'd think I would know something like that about myself by now. After all, I am a ripe age of 34. But in retrospect, I never really had the opportunity to say goodbye to someone on my own terms... you know... to say goodbye to them AS they were in the act of departing. Sure, I've attended funerals and a wide range of other "goodbye" ceremonies -- but those are somehow different.

I could stand over a dead person and say goodbye all day long. But, that wouldn't invoke the feeling I had when I saw my ex-roommate and dear friend loading up a truck for what could be our last moment together in this lifetime.

*Sigh*... the thunder roars... and rain pours... he has ridden into the sunset... another interesting twist in life's timeline that signals the beginning of a new era.

Texas Tea Party

Well, yesterday's Tax Day went off without a hitch... almost. Many people are hearing about Texas Governor Rick Perry firing up an Austin crowd with talks of Texas seceding from the United States of America. CNN's post on this subject received over 300 comments before it was closed off.

It never ceases to amaze me at how one-eyed some people can be. One of the many anti-signs held up during yesterday's tea party urged us to stop "Obama's Socialism". Where was this bitch when Bush's administration crafted most of the bailouts that are taking place now? Where was the "Stop Bush's Socialism" sign when then-President George W. Bush appropriated bailout money for the automobile industry?

These tea parties are a crock of shit, really... and I want to stress that not all Texans are advocating seceding from the United States -- myself included. The blood of our family members have been spilled to give us what we have today. I'm proud to be an American, and I'll be damned if some right-winged cronies take that from me.

However, I believe the rest of the nation can sit back and chill. This secession talk will come to a screeching halt the next time Mother Nature rams a hurricane up Texas' ass. There was no need to even mention the issue of secession -- at all -- except for personal political gain. This only serves to distract our great nation from bigger threats and global issues, and it's time for sore losers to fold up their tents and come back into the American fold.

After all, just last week, Gov. Perry groveled for FEMA assistance regarding wildfires that threatened over 95 counties. It's obvious that we all need each other, especially in times of crisis. Seriously, Texas needs to watch what it wishes for. If secession were to ever happen, I'd high-tail my ass to American soil and rebuild my life in another state.

In the meantime, when the next devastating hurricane barrels onshore, the ungratefulness will come to fruition, and I'll be watching from American soil... praying for my Texan brothers and sisters to come back to their senses.

Ahoy, Matey!

With piracy consuming the American media these days, I have to stop and give kudos to the Navy SEALS, the former hostage and Captain who was recently rescued, and to President Obama. Up until now, when I thought of pirates, I envisioned black hats with skulls, parrots on their shoulder, and... well... it never dawned on me that I've never seen a real life dark-skinned pirate.

Looking at this pirate pictured in this post, this just shatters everything I thought pirates were. There are no gold chests and other treasures on these boats. Most of these men are doing what they do because they are part of a failed government; a poor, starving nation that cannot feed its own people.

Normally, I'm not an advocate for violence. However, I agree that this piracy war will ultimately end on land... and hopefully, many nations can truly work together on this issue. Until then, this is what the Black Man Next Door would do if he were in command.

You remember the story of the Trojan horse? Well guess what... I'd be sailing phantom boats with fake cargo up and down the Gulf of Aden --- luring pirates like roaches. Imagine their surprise when they find nothing but a throng of troops ready to stub them out. Yes... hundreds of booby trapped boats... like mobile roach motels, giving pirates something to marinate over.

Of course, the other option would be to simply arm these vessels so they have a fighting chance when pirates board their ships. Why there are so many unarmed boats sailing in pirate-infested waters, I'll never understand....

The Big Gay Surprise

So, apparently Polish right-wing fanatics fail to understand that homosexuality goes far beyond the human species. I was tickled to death when I read this article - HERE.

What I find tragic about the article is that the head of the zoo really thinks this animal is "too young to decide" whether he prefers males or females. That zookeeper is in for a big disappointment.

One has to question this zookeeper's credentials if he hasn't heard of gay animals, and one has to wonder what the pissed off politician thinks about homosexuality being a choice.

Changes in the Wind

2009 has turned out to be a wonderful year so far, albeit only 25% complete. Compared to last year, things could only have gone up... and now, I can feel changes in the wind.

Starting in May, I'll be alone for the first time in seven years. On the surface, it may sound bad... especially for those who are wary of loneliness. However, I won't have that lonely feeling. My roommate is moving out, and it will just be the dogs and me in the house.

I will hear the creaking of the house; the wind rushing against the window; a dog in the distance; the tiniest raindrops hitting the roof. Peace and quiet... total autonomy... laying on the couch naked, watching whatever I want, whenever I want.

There won't be a lover in my bed, which isn't all bad either. At least my arm and shoulder won't be numb from sleeping in awkward positions. I won't be waking up to his alarm clock, or his bedshaking trips to the bathroom, or his snoring. Dare I say it? I'm actually at peace being single and having my house all to myself... me, the Black Man Next Door.. a man driven by intimacy and connection.

In retrospect, I think 2008 took something from me -- a very big part of me -- and now, I refuse to give away just a part of me to another guy. Finally, I'm quite comfortable with taking all the "me time" I need, enjoying life as it presents itself, and being as selfish as possible without consequence to someone else. Perhaps someday, I'll once again have the whole me to give away to that special guy.

Tattoos and Darkness

Well now, it appears that a friend has just lost a bet. You see, once upon a time, there was an argument between the Black Man Next Door and a close friend... we'll call her Fag Hag X.

In this story, we walk past a tattoo parlor on a lovely afternoon. Suddenly, we stop and gaze for a bit. I had visions of moons, yin-yangs, and suns dancing in my head. Could this be my daring moment? Should I finally step out of my shell and do something that I've always wanted to do?

I took one look at Fag Hag X, got down on one knee, and popped the question.... Should I get a tattoo?

She then proceeded to tell me how Black men are fiiiiiiiiiine, as long as they don't have tattoos. Then, she dares me to find just ONE black man that looks good with them. For some reason, her mythical brain thinks that tattoos just don't look good on a Nubian body. So, in this Tattoo War, I say behold... my weapon of mass destruction -- Tyrese Gibson! I put this WMD into an email and forwarded to her for review. I'm still awaiting a response.

Go on... you feel lucky? Huh? You feelin' lucky Ms. X? Just check out that work of art inked into a work of art... then look at me in the eye and tell me how nasty tattoos are on a Black man. Yes, I believe my Fag Hag X has just been put into checkmate... thanks to Mr. Tyrese Gibson!

Great American Smokeout

So, it's no April Fool's joke here in America. Today, American smokers were hit with an extra 62 cent excise tax on cigarettes, and people are getting pissed. Also here in Dallas, a smoking ban goes into effect this month, and the gayborhood bars will be smoke-free.

One elderly man paid $58 for a 10-pack carton of cigarettes in Colorado, and like others, he feels like smokers are being singled out. Another elderly woman flat out says that we are picking on poor people that smoke, and it's just not fair.

Okay, now as a non-smoker, I certainly appreciate my clean air to breathe when I go out. I personally believe that smoking is disgusting, and the chances of me dating a smoker are much lower than another non-smoker. Moreover, while I understand that smoking is a deadly addiction, these two elderly people have a very simple solution to their problem if they are too poor to buy cigarettes.

Not to mention that it's not unfair to tax certain products higher than others. You still have a choice whether to purchase it or not. Besides, look at alcohol in America. The tax on that is not low, either... and by far, the airline industry bears one of the highest tax ratios in comparison to the base price of the product they sell -- airline tickets. But if you don't like that... the beauty of living in America is... you simply A) Shop around for alternatives. B) Don't buy it at all.

Mr. April

Warm and wet -- that's what April is around these parts... and the Black Man Next Door was all about that when searching for Mr. April, Canadian Actor, Ryan Rodney Reynolds. Some R&R we can all appreciate, right?

It's weird that the first time I saw him was on the horror movie remake, The Amityville Horror. To ponder the frailty of a human mind that's 'taken over' by some unseen force is quite frightening... but one look at him, and I got over it pretty fast.

"Vetting" eligible men for this position has proved to be quite difficult, yet rewarding.... considering the eligibility requirements. For the basics, Mr. April is originally from Vancouver, British Columbia - a city that I thoroughly enjoyed, and I wished I had bumped into Mr. April then. At 6'2", Ryan is a 32-year-old Scorpio with rich, deep credentials.

Many of us gay men aspire to win the heart of one who not only takes care of himself physically, but mentally, too. In our many endeavors to find a man like Ryan Reynolds, we find narcissism, overcompensation, and emotional coldness in his place. But when that nightmare is not realized, a moment of reflection is definitely due.

In researching Mr. April, one thing that particularly struck a chord in my heart was Ryan's trip to Malawi a couple of years ago -- documented in an exclusive article on The Advocate. Now, many "celebrities" journey to places that are chocked full of humanitarian afflictions for various reasons. I'm always wary of their true intentions... skeptical about their sincerity vs. their desire to come away with a more marketable image.

Not Mr. April. In going to Malawi to help repair a crumbling orphanage and visit medical facilities, Ryan Reynolds managed to do a good deed for a worthy cause, all while squelching my skepticism over his humbleness.

There are many other things about Mr. April that provide much more dimension to his delicious physique, if you're more interested than just getting him in the sack, that is. Here are some general tidbits about Ryan Reynolds:

Ryan enjoys fishing, motorcycles, mountain biking, and football.

Mr. April has a fear of flying, but obviously overcomes that somehow because he loves to travel, and his favorite city is Amsterdam.

Ryan used to work in nightclubs, a grocery store, and yacht club... jobs that the 'everyday man' can identify with.

One of my favorite quotes from Mr. April regarding the issue of "Outing":

"Hence the witch hunt. That’s what frustrates me about some of the celebrity blogs in particular. They’re so obsessed with outing certain celebrities or punishing the people they think should be out that it turns into sort of this new McCarthyism. If I were a gay man, I’d like to believe that it would be my choice if I were to publicize that or not."

Mr. April - Ryan Reynolds

The Holy Shell Game

My hiatus from Texas continues, as I am thoroughly enjoying a well-needed vacation. Now that I'm 72 hours removed from the esteemed American Bible Belt, I can look at it with a bird's eye view and really understand why I hate living there.

I remember having a rather heated conversation with a co-worker regarding religion and spirituality. Although she is a very nice lady, she just couldn't understand how I could go from being a Baptist to a person that claims to just be 'Spiritual'. In her view, 'Spiritual' people are going to hell because we are essentially rejecting the Almighty. You know the rest... repent for being a cocksucker, blah blah blah... burning in hell... blah blah blah... lake of fire... blah blah blah.

Mmmmm hmmmmm. So, what is my problem with religion? It's simple, really. It would seem that every 'one-God' religion shuns upon us idolizing other Gods, and thus, idolatry is like a Level 5 sin. Okay, my dear, sweet lady... so how do you know that 'The Lord' is the correct one to idolize? How do you know you aren't being tricked by some dubious Demon or Devil into thinking your God is the right one to worship? Is the correct God the one that hates fags? Is the correct God the one that so many wars of oppression, affliction, and violence have been waged over? How do you know that you aren't straying away from Allah, or Raheem, or Khalil, or Holy Rock, or some other nutwing that claims to be the way of 'God'?

You don't. Neither do I. As such, I find the safest course of action is to adhere to the belief that there is a higher power... I just don't know His/Her/Their/It's name... and truthfully, it doesn't matter to me. What does matter to me is that I live the best possible life that I can. I treat others with respect and dignity. I do good things. I love others, regardless if they hate me. I try to make the world a better place. If your God will send me to Hell anyway, since I suck dick and all, then which of us truly has morals? Your God.... or your friendly cocksucking co-worker?

Prohibition Sunday

So, Sundays continue here in Texas without hard liquor sales. About 10 days ago, a survey went out regarding legislation that currently prohibits Texas stores from selling hard liquor on Sundays. Apparently, the overwhelming majority of 400 voters were opposed to overturning that legislation.

Mind you, bars can sell hard liquor drinks seven days a week; still, many people felt that didn't justify the need to have stores sell hard liquor seven days a week, though. Plus, when the voters were informed that New Mexico saw a steep rise of alcohol-related fatalities after their legislation was repealed, even more Texas voters opposed overturning legislation.

Now for the Black Man Next Door's spin on this issue. First and foremost, I'm liberal. I believe in individual rights and freedoms, and the word "Sunday" would not make me feel any different than the word "Friday" in this legislation. So what if New Mexico's alcohol-related fatalities jumped on Sunday? That's not really surprising, nor is it any piece of fact that should be a deal breaker when casting a vote on this issue.

In answering why, I ask myself - how do they know that this increase wasn't attributed to more New Mexicans drinking on Saturday night, and then crashing their car in the wee hours on Sunday morning? How do we know these people didn't drive drunk from liquor they purchased the Wednesday prior? How do we know that higher Sunday fatalities weren't attributable to more people drinking too much in a bar, rather than people consuming a bottle of Tanqueray that was bought in a store?

Just because alcohol-related fatalities increased when New Mexico opened the flood gates to Sunday hard liquor store sales, that doesn't necessarily mean it's the sole reason why accidents increased on Sundays. If they had surveyed me, and then fed me statistics from some other state, I'd call it like it is. If it smells like bullshit, and it looks like bullshit... then what is it? Just another way to exert control over people's freewill.

Toxins of Truth

Well, just one 16-hour shift stands between me and a very long, well-needed vacation. It's been a busy time for the Black Man Next Door, and the next few months foreshadow even busier times.

As I get ready for work, I take pause and note today's date. Not only does today represent what some term vernal equinox, but I learned a very important lesson about the power of integrity just one year ago. I learned just how much of a slippery slope "telling the truth" can be.

You see, once upon a time, there was this red-headed guy who captured my heart and opened my eyes to the simpler logic of life. In a way, he represented the classic vernal equinox event -- a time where the sun straddles the middle of the world -- a time where the light and the dark are equals. He had his light side, and he had his dark side. Which side faced me when I met him? That's the question.

He seemed to have it all right. He treated others as he'd want to be treated. He valued and understood the importance of family. He was the easy-going, down-home type of guy that any gay man could appreciate. These are qualities that we can rarely capture in the cyberworld, and they are easily masked online by lusts, vices, and desires. Anyway, we started dating each other off-grid for about two months before something began to rear its ugly head.... the truth.

Needless to say, he was HIV positive; and on March 20, 2008, I became painfully aware that he knew the truth long before we even started dating. Although we worked things out in the interim, things gradually degraded and we broke it off. In hindsight, I wondered about the power of telling the truth. Everyone advertises that they want "completely honest" men to date, but is there such thing? Are we setting ourselves up by feeling entitled to truth? After all, I wouldn't be surprised if we all lied a dozen times a day, on average.

I wish truth was black and white. Life would be so much easier, but we all know it's not. So, in decoding the truth's many shades of gray, when should you let someone know your status? Is it something that should come out in initial conversations? Of course, that would provide a hypocrite the way to brush someone off easy and early. Hmmm.. perhaps, it is something that should be talked about after you agree to start dating, but before sex? Well, a lot of people would probably think they've already been lied to at that point. Or, what the hell... should anything be said unless the other person brings it up? It'll all be safe sex, right? After all, the real truth is that it's more about 'not catching something' than anything else, right?

Needless to say, I can only imagine how hard it must be to wrestle with the truth when you meet someone you really like. Sometimes the truth can save, and sometimes it can destroy. I honestly believe that truth is like a weapon... carrying it means nothing -- how you use it means everything... and a man's true integrity shines if he knows the right time to be truthful, and the right time to lie.

So, in closing... I'm a proud, registered member of the Hypocrite Party. Why? Because I don't know if I'd do or say things any differently... especially if I was the one with a toxic truth to dump on a really great guy that I'm developing feelings for.

The Pains We Wear

As R&B Singer, Rihanna's story unfolds, there's something that really got me to thinking. As I sat in my car on this sunny St. Patrick's Day listening to her song, my heart went out to her all over again.

Yes, she's recording a duet with that woman-beatin' man of hers. Yes, I hope he's prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Yes, I hope they both find some sort of peaceful retribution for the pains they wear. But, damn -- I have to wonder, should we have seen this coming?

We oftentimes embrace the principle that personal matters should never be brought into a workplace.... and in theory, that would be wonderful. But, we all know that the human mind rarely works that way. I believe that when your personal life is in turmoil, unless you have split personalities, that turmoil will manifest itself in every little thing you do.

Now, let's take Rihanna into consideration. She's a singer, and just a couple of thoughts ago, I asked should we have seen this coming. Where I'm going with that is... think of her song titles, Disturbia, S.O.S., Unfaithful, Hate That I Love You, Rehab, Breaking Dishes.... and the list goes on and on...

I guess rich and famous celebrities can't even escape the ills of humanity. They cry out just like everyone else, and I wonder did anyone listen to her prior to her assault being plastered all over the news....

Battle of the Brands

Well, the birthday festivities are over, and it's time to settle back into the routine. One of the most daunting tasks I must do is go grocery shopping. While at the store, I thought a lot about my habits -- and on the surface, what I'm about to talk about next ties in with my "Labels du Jour" post earlier this month.

I caught myself walking down the aisles... snagging my usual products such as Mrs. Baird's bread, Progresso soups, and a variety of name brand items. But then came the mouthwash.

Listerine - $5.47

Something compelled me to pick up a mouthrinse bottle of equal size with the label pictured in this post.

Equate - $3.27

Okay, have I been stuck on labels this bad that I haven't even considered alternatives? I figured there's got to be something wrong with Equate Citrus Antiseptic Mouthrinse, so I turned the bottle around to read the ingredients. They were identical to those in Listerine! I tell ya... for those that really hate labels, this would be a compelling reason why. Looks like whether it's in a grocery aisle, in the streets, or under the sheets -- labels can be so misleading.

Yet, as much as we say we hate labels -- they obviously have some stronghold on our mind and our wallets. The sooner we break free, the more money we keep to ourselves!

Coffee Bandit, How I Hate Thee

Okay, fellow Bloggers and Bloggettes, a crime has been committed at the residence of the Black Man Next Door. Today is a very special day... a day that REQUIRES a morning ritual of coffee, clean shave, and hot bath.

One of those requirements has been put on hold today. Why? Because a certain coffee bandit (aka roommate) has committed a clear violation of Gay Relations Bible Code IV, Section 41, Title X, Subsection B, Verse 1:14. In case you haven't read these codes, I'll summarize this verse in the following:

Don't leave just a little bit of something to avoid being guilty of using all of it.

As you can see from the picture, I was left with a paltry tablespoon of coffee grounds to put into my massive coffee machine to feed my voracious coffee addiction. This is one of my biggest pet peeves... someone leaves just a little bit of something left so THEY can be satisfied and YOU will end up buying more of it.

This crime is either out of guilt, or out of sheer sneaky cleverness.... I'm not certain of my particular Coffee Bandit's motives. But, I'm confiscating his Nintendo Wii until the supply is replenished. What some call being a bitch, I call fair play. Sometimes, to break a man's habits, you gotta break him.