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.

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.

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?

Echelon of Hate Crimes, Part 2

One of the biggest jolts of culture shock I ever received was when I attended Texas A&M University back in the early 90s. Not only was it an immediate transplant into a "country-style" culture, but I was tossed into the ring of issues that I'd never really dealt with in my adolescence.

I already felt like a fish out of water just living in Texas... and A&M was like the fillet knife, ready to gut my innards at any time. My first days in school were spent getting acclimated to my new surroundings. I remember walking past old dormitories with Confederate flags draped from the windows. Confederate flags? I vividly remember asking one of my new friends, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Then came the big debate on whether the flags were heritage or hate. From there, the debate spiraled into what constitutes hate crimes... and further downhill to the point that hate crimes are a violation of free speech. Huh?? Seriously. Did I miss something here? Eventually, my Republican, White counterpart -- who by all means was a very nice guy... and HOT -- honed in on freedom of religious speech. This all came to be when I not only used my 'Blackness' as an example, but my sexuality, too.

He felt that while homosexuality was "okay" with him, people that disagree with it could be accused of inciting violence if they preached their views... especially pastors in church. Why penalize a religious figure for his thoughts and beliefs? Essentially, hate crime laws would be sequestering his freedom to speak as he chooses. I listened to him... perhaps mesmerized by his green eyes, dirty blond hair, and preppy gear. I couldn't volley a response, because quite frankly, I felt it was a good point at the time.

Now, after life has 'hardened' me up a bit, I absolutely disagree with him in retrospect. To my understanding, hate crimes zero in on hate-driven violence... so as long as a pastor is not actually inciting and encouraging violence against the homosexual community, he should have the right to throw fire and brimstone from his pulpit until he's blue (or black) in the face.

So now, I'm curious. Does anyone actually agree with my Republican friend? Does anyone agree that hate crime laws inhibit freedom of religious speech? Can anyone vindicate my hot college-era friend?

Echelon of Hate Crimes, Part I

Ladies and gents... this is one tired Black Man Next Door! Today has been a whirlwind of events, and they aren't quite over. Work has been somewhat busy, toiling away with co-workers of all different walks of life - race, religion, nationality, and sexual orientation.

The melting pot of a harmoniously working team of underlings sparked me to write about times where those differences actually make people clash. Last summer, a gay man was savagely beaten in the gayborhood of Dallas by two hetero-thugs looking for trouble. (Story HERE) The DA's office opted not to pursue this as a hate crime, which enraged many in our community.

Hate crime... issuing a higher echelon of punishment to offenders motivated by hatred or contempt for a certain "group" of people. This is one issue that I've straddled the fence on for quite some time now. It may be shocking to hear this from a Black, gay blogger... but it's true. Ultimately, I am for hate crime legislation, but I acknowledge holes.. problems.. concerns about my stance that need alleviating.

This will more than likely be a four-part post, as there are many aspects of hate crimes that I want to touch on and ping you for your thoughts. First and foremost, aren't all violent crimes an expression of hatred toward another human being? For example: Four White men driving on Peace Street witness a man savagely beating his wife, stop the car, assail him, drag him into the street, and beat him within an inch of his life... staining the concrete with his blood. What is driving their actions? If it's not a strong, negative emotion like hatred... why not simply restrain the man until the cops arrive? But say they didn't... they make this man their bitch.

The real deal to chew on is that this would not be considered a hate crime, even if they know this guy, and have in fact hated the man's guts since the day they met him. Why? Because they are ALL White. If a man brutally rapes a woman, screaming "Bitch! Bitch! Whore! Slut!"... wouldn't you consider that an act of hatred? Communities should shun and fear this type of violent activity regardless of demographics... and I am not totally sure that crimes against a certain demographic instill greater fear than the examples of crimes I just described above. Bottom line... part of me believes that all violent crimes should receive the highest echelon of punishment possible.

Anyone have any thoughts about whether or not hate crimes deserve a higher level of punishment?

Interraciality, Part I

The other night at a local gay club, while I was enjoying a celebration for one of my fag hag's professional achievements, I had just enough cocktails to get out on the dance floor. Another one of my female friends joined me out there, and as we swirled away to 80s dance music, I noticed two men off to my left. They clicked so well together, dancing like intertwined birds... arms and hands draped over each other... eyes locked onto one another as if communicating by some extrasensory means.

Now, you're probably saying.. "Kevin, it's a gay bar with guys all over the dance floor. What's the big deal?" Just tie your wings up for a second, I'm getting there. You see, these weren't just two every day gaybirds dancing in the pale moon light. One of them was a 5'10" White guy, dressed like the guy-next-door. The other, a 6' or so Black guy, dressed like the guy-next-door... and there were NO other paired-up dancers like that in the whole joint. Both of them looked as though they walked straight out of the office and onto the dance floor.

Now, you're really scratching your head.. "Kevin, interracial couples are out all the time, and it's a common thing nowadays. After all, the 1960s are long gone." Maybe in your neck of the woods, but...

To that, I say, "Wrong."

I have long walked the streets here in this Texas metropolis called Dallas/Ft. Worth, and you'd be surprised how rare it is to see any interracial couples walk down "rainbow avenue"... much less dancing together in a club. In these parts, out of all racial combinations that you would see on occasion, White-Black 'interraciality' seems to be one of the rarest dynamics. Anyway, as my fag hag twirled me around on the dance floor, I was completely mesmerized. I tried not to make it obvious that I was staring at them, but it was the most refreshing sight that I've ever seen at The Mining Company gay club.

Perhaps somewhere deep in the recesses of your brain, you are asking me "Why?"... Hmmmm, probably because in all my years of dating, I've heard so much about the stigmas of "interraciality", be it homo- or heterosexual. I've had everything from religious beliefs to statistics thrown in my face, and my past failed interracial relationships only bolster those statistics.

But that night, on that dance floor, I felt the energy of two soul mates of interraciality... and it was strong. Love really does have no color, and I walked off of the dance floor smiling, tipsy, and hopeful.

Inside the Lion's Den

Today, my thoughts rest upon one of my best friends from Chicago, Illinois. We've been friends for years now, and we have quite a bit in common. We work for the same place; both love to travel; both love men; both delved heavily into religion in the past; both tend to put others' needs ahead of our own; and both come from 'families' not consisting of a mother and a father -- like many conservatives define a true family to consist of.

Despite all of our similarities, it is perhaps our differences that make our friendship so strong. Most certainly, we've come to respect each other's different philosophies in life. That difference in philosophy truly shines when we go out to bars together.

You see, recently, we went out to The Mining Company -- a dark, mineshaft-themed gay bar in Dallas' Cedar Springs gayborhood. The crowd seems less pretentious there, and there's definitely an age difference between TMC and other nearby bars. Nevertheless, when we walk through those front doors and into the cavernous bellows of the lion's den within, reality blurs for my friend... and I already know how it's going to play out.

Supposedly, the inner soul thrives on one of four core engines: power, intimacy, fun, and peace -- so the color code theory goes. My friend most definitely thrives on fun... and the bare-chested go-go boys, beefy bartenders, and hot, sweaty man-skin seems to instill some sort of hope for something more meaningful down the road. TMC has just the type of man he is looking for, but deep down, he clings to the belief that he can walk out with the heart, soul, and love of any bar fly --- after a night of hot passion in the sheets.

But, I watch helplessly as a sexy bartender pours more and more liquor into his glass, and it flows into his inner child, blurring reality even further. After the bartender engages in conversation with him, he takes that as an advance -- or someone that is receptive to giving him what he wants and needs after last call. Within moments, he's passing out his phone number like free condoms.

Now, my inner soul is driven by the core engine of intimacy. I see bars as nothing more than a place to hang out with friends and have good conversation over drinks... not to mention the occasional "make-a-fool-out-of-myself" routines on the dance floor. Bartenders and go-go boys will smile, say "honey", "baby", "sweety", and all sorts of other words for one main reason... CASH. For a man looking for intimacy, they are like props in a meat market.

Don't get me wrong... I love man-watching just like the next guy, but it IS a meat market. It can even be the proverbial lion's den if you are out for one thing, but truly need another. Lust drips from the walls and onto the floor. If you see where I'm coming from, then you agree that over-emphasis on youth, appearance, and status is shoving kryptonite into the hearts for those that need more for true happiness.

Immediately, physicality has taken priority above all else... and that's totally cool if lust and physicality is all my friend wants. However, as time passes, I become more convinced that he may thrive on fun; but it's not the oil that his engine truly needs in order to run. If he is expecting something more either instantly or down the road --he will continue to walk away hurt, as he did that night... and the night before... and the night before. Then again, what do I know? I'm an over-the-hill, cynical, 30-something, cast-ironed blogger that has no sense of anything but dark realities... only because I learned important lessons the hard way.

*grin*

I love my friends to death. I would die over and over for them... and I know I can be suffocating with my opinions, to the point where I'm dangerously judgmental. It's only because I care -- not to argue who's right or wrong -- but because it sucks being used, abused, hurt, and treated like trash at the first sign of trouble. Nevertheless, from this post forward, I will bite my tongue. I'll be there for my friend to lean on. I'll be there as a drunk man's crutch between the bar counter and the car. I'll hide his keys and take him home. But in his war to snag the "perfect" bar fly, I'll opt to stand outside of the lion's cage and hope for the best.

Within These Walls

For some, there's solace within the walls of a church. For others, there is angst. Still, there are those who find a heightened sense of spirituality. But what some take from the church into the world outside can equate to weapons of mass destruction.

I was an avid churchgoer in my younger days, when I attended Baptist church just south of downtown Dallas twice a week. I remember getting all dressed up for the children's usher board on every 3rd Sunday... riding shotgun in my grandmother's car... listening to His word for nearly 3 hours. Afterward, my grandmother would take us to a friend's house where she always had boxes of snacks and candy to sooth my sweet tooth.

I admit, the absence of fire & brimstone in my pastor's sermons captivated me... moved my soul... instilled me with a sense of security, faith, hope, and a dizzying array of other soul-shaking things. There was no talk of "homosexuality is wrong"... only phrases like "We are all His children"... "Jesus loves all"... etc. When the Reverend did talk about sins, he'd speak in a way that didn't ostracize anyone's core identity. He would provide examples like buying scratch-off lottery tickets or adultery.

As life became more complicated for me, I slowly drifted away from church. Mortal issues such as an abusive stepfather and a growing sense of my sexuality forced me to look at the world in a much broader perspective, with a little less naivety.

Life in a "Bible-Belt" state, especially Texas, proved to be brutal for me. As I grew older, the church establishment became more and more like a storehouse for weapons of mass destruction. Not the church I was attending, but rather, a multitude of locations dotting the Texas landscape. In many ways, I identified with my fellow homosexuals who were angered at things such as messages on billboards pictured to the right.

However, in some ways, I felt pragmatism flow into my veins. Why? Because when I hear some gays and lesbians talk about how bad churches are, especially Baptist churches, I can always point to my home church as an example to the contrary. Even so, the fact is, people have a right to hate homosexuals. They have a right to be racist. They have the right to religious freedoms.

The church that posted the message in the billboard pictured above was subsequently greeted by protesters. You would not find the Black Man Next Door amongst them. In a way, I simply don't agree with our ranks picketing and protesting in front of churches that preach a message that "we" don't agree with. Again, they have the right to religious freedom of expression -- and to encroach upon that makes us no better than them.

Nowadays, this church is posting billboard ads right in the heart of Dallas' gay neighborhood... and I struggle to understand their need to shove their beliefs into our ears. Why can't they live and let live? Why dump their toxic, nuclear wastes into the gardens of people who are different than they are?

There seems to be no shortage of these types of churches, churchgoers, and messages here in Texas. When we encroach upon their rights to live the way they want, and say what they want to say, they recoil into defense mechanisms... a safeguard to defend territory that they feel is threatened by homosexual "invasion". When they encroach upon our rights to live the way we want, and screw who we want to screw, we recoil into our defense mechanisms. A rift in mankind that is steadily ripping open into a gaping chasm.... but after reading many articles and blogs related to our war against our intolerant counterparts, our tongues can be just as toxic and hateful.

In my opinion, if we are to coexist in light of better understanding, it's not just about them getting to know the real "us". It's about us getting to know the real "them", too. They aren't necessarily encroaching our space out of hatred -- but out of simple misunderstanding due to existing stereotypes and beliefs about our culture. As long as we continue to feed those stereotypes and beliefs with Manhunt, Condoms-to-Go, and Gay Phone Sex billboard ads -- they will see the shallow end of the rainbow pool.

We must be pragmatists that are willing to seal the rift... not tear it apart even further. Rather than focusing on differences between homosexuals and heterosexuals, we should focus on our similarities as one human race.

Compromise, as all pragmatists ultimately do at some point.

Fireballs of Texas

So, as I was scrounging the house for a bit o' coffee this morning, Texans from Dallas down to Austin caught sight of something very unusual this morning.

The story is HERE.

Fireballs streaked out of the Sunday morning sky, making a beeline towards Earth. Could it be fragments from two satellites that collided last week? The Black Man Next Door thinks it was an omen from God -- stop screwing around with homosexuals and make gay marriage legal in Texas... only then will the rain of fire cease!

Dallas Gay Couple Files for Divorce -- in Texas!?

What do you get when a gay Texan files for divorce, when he married someone in Massachusetts?

Confusion.

If this case ends up in the Texas Supreme Court, these gentlemen won't have a prayer. They have a snowball's chance in hell requesting a divorce in such a hostile, conservative environment... especially from a marriage that Texas doesn't recognize as legal anyway.

Herein lies the conundrum of the current gay marriage movement in the United States. One state doesn't have to honor another state's laws and values. You marry someone in Massachusetts, move to Arizona, and you could have one hell of a time getting a divorce if things go awry.

Maybe it's best that there is no divorcing in gay marriages? Perhaps we would take them seriously and critically soul search before entering a gay marriage. Maybe this is a way to really show heterosexuals how it's done right -- take a vow until death do us part, and truly mean it. Hmmm... then again... homicide and suicide rates are high enough as it is.

Beating Around the Bush

Wow, the day is upon us. As the sun continues to rise here in North Texas, we as Americans have a lot of reflection to do -- both backwards and forwards. When it comes to President George W. Bush, I've been beating around the bush while expressing my true feelings about him.

This is his "home state", though technically, born in Connecticut I don't consider him a native Texan. In a few hours, as the Obamas get settled into their new nest, the Bushes will be heading back to their old one... just 12 miles north of "The Black Man Next Door" and less than 5 miles from where "The Black Man Next Door" works.

When I first heard about SMU being chosen as the site for our 43rd President's library, tears of sadness ran down my face. I wondered how many foreign missiles would be aimed at Dallas once he came back and littered the place with his influence. I wondered about a lot of things... both good and bad.

Today, I focus on the good things, and I would hope that the George W. Bush Presidential Library would NOT overdo the good things. The truth should come out for all to see, and perhaps the Library could accomplish that by dedicating a floor to each "truth". You know, like the Katrina Disaster Floor... the Weapons of Mass Destruction Floor... the Economic Crisis Floor... and Floor 9/11. I will admit... he had it rough, and I'm not sure many of us could have done better. We clearly see the aging that has taken place on Bushy's face, and it's hard to see what accomplishments he achieved until you really dig into the historical war chest.

Probably the best thing I can commend him for is his attention to the AIDS epidemic in Africa. I am proud of his support in committing funds to that cause, although the one here in the US needs more attention, too. We will have to prod Obama on that. Nevertheless, this is the first and last time you'll ever see the following words from "The Black Man Next Door".

Good luck, Mr. President Bush, in all of your endeavors. You are definitely not my favorite, but the bottom line is, you have done a great service for this country. Hopefully in the future, you will admit your arrogance and make peace with the Americans that didn't like you -- and primarily because of that arrogance. In the meantime, welcome "home".... and don't park your entourage in my space.

Rise of a New Building

There may be hope for Dallas' oldest gayborhood yet. I can remember the days of driving along Cedar Springs and pulling into the Tom Thumb to grab a few 'items' on the way home from work. I remember the dates I had at the old Crossroads Market. Or how about the dark, mine-shaft themed club called Throckmorton Mining Company that ominously closed last year? I miss that 'Wall of Shame' where hopeful one-night standers hung out.

Recently, TMC has moved around the corner and reopened with a vengeance. It's certainly a relief to meet my friends there for Sunday night 80s dance music again. Good, stiff drinks... a Ms. Pac Man machine... and of course, good-lookin' men -- all are back on the menu after a 10-month hiatus. But now, something else catches my eye.

Out of the rubble of a long-gone Tom Thumb rises a new development. Apparently, this place is called Illume (rendering pictured above) -- a mixture of high-end retail, ritzy restaurants, and upscale apartments to revitalize "The Strip"... just what every neighborhood needs during a blundering economy. Seriously, though.. from what I read, the developers are aiming to revitalize gay-anchored neighborhoods all over the country with a broad paintbrush of brighter colors.

I wish them luck, and I'm glad that Cedar Springs is getting a boost. The caveat to all of this is the fact that nowadays, developers seem to be hell-bent on attracting both gay and straight crowds. I can't blame them, as it only makes good business since. At the same time, I'm afraid that this will dilute or otherwise water down the gay identity imprinted in the Cedar Springs neighborhood. But, I guess that's the price we must ultimately pay in exchange for more tolerance and acceptance.

Hmmm... I wonder if Illume's developers supported Prop 8 with generous donations. Nothing sucks more than taking our (gay/lesbian) money and using it to attack us behind our backs.

Power of Perception

As the cold sun rises, I find myself doing something odd -- working a morning shift! I started my usual routine of coffee, oatmeal, and vitamins just a few hours early today. If you're one of those that wake up at 4:30am to get to work, yet you are a night owl, then you feel my pain.

On the way to work this morning, I dropped my friend off so he could catch an early flight back to Chicago. I remember passing up this white minivan on the interstate and loud popping sounds came from its tailpipe. After a recent rash of random highway shootings here in the Dallas area, that certainly made me and my friend skip a heartbeat or two.

I'm kinda allergic to bullets, and being shot is probably second to last on my list of desired ways to die -- with drowning being dead last. I gripped the steering wheel tightly and wondered why it seemed like these freeway shootings were suddenly sprouting up all over the Dallas area. I mean, I'm sure they happen from time to time - and many go unnoticed. But what happens when they DO land on the news?

Does a full page article in a newspaper, or 15 seconds of fame on the TV motivate would-be criminals to take the plunge into stardom? What effect does pictures (like the one above from freedigitalphotos.net) of a homeless, begging man have on those who see them? If the man in the picture was Caucasian, would we look at the picture and feel the same way about what we are seeing? What if the subject in the picture was a female? A child? A drag queen? It's amazing how much power the media has over us, and its tendency to sensationalize events could conceivably contribute to many negative aspects of our society.

Perception is a bitch, ain't it?

Balancing Act

The sun is gone here in North Texas, replaced by a gibbous moon creeping into the northeastern sky. Cold air descends upon us amidst a star-filled canopy. What a perfect night to venture over to Fitzhugh Avenue for a cocktail tonight!

My best friend has dropped down from Chicago to visit, and it seems that he's passed out on my couch. Traveling can zap the energy outta anybody, even if they are seasoned flight attendants like my buddy here. So, while he rests up for "Two Dolla Make-You-Holla" Night at Dallas' Crew's Inn Bar, this is the perfect moment to unravel my thoughts.

One of my good friends, known only as "The Godfather", is going to meet us up there at 10:20PM tonight -- as I do every Tuesday night at this time if we are off from work. It's kinda nice to have "traditions" going with a brotha's circle of friends. Perhaps everyone needs some continuity in their lives to keep a comfortable level of sanity around themselves.

Earlier today, my grandmother called me to chit-chat for a while. I looked at the caller ID and let the phone ring to voice mail. Now, before you throw tomatoes at me, hear me out. I find myself in one of those "hang out with people that understand" moods, you know? Don't get me wrong... I am so grateful to have family that supports and embraces my sexuality. But, my grandmother just doesn't understand what I really go through sometimes. Family provides a much different level of support than gay friends do, and today -- it's the friendship support that I need.

As a homosexual, I went through "The Tribulation", which is typically a 4-step process of obtaining truth and subsequently inner peace. No offense to my straight counterparts, but heterosexuals can't understand this Tribulation -- they can only empathize. The four steps are:

1. Denial - For some, this is a Black boy believing that Black boys can't be gay. For others, it's saying "I'm not GAY" after pulling their penis out of some guy's ass. For some, "it's just a phase". Yes, you get the drift... mentally denying that you are gay, and denying the physical attraction exists -- even if one engages in the act. Still, other gaylings are fortunate to skip this painful step on the staircase altogether.
2. Rationalization - the step of actually grasping what 'being gay' means and its subsequent implications. Examples: seeing other boys going goo-goo-gah-gah over girls and just not sharing in the fun; knowing that there's something different, but not what or why; validating yourself by enjoying manly and womanly parts... you get the idea. If you use terms like "experimenting" or "finding myself"... look at the Tribulation map and you'll see "YOU ARE HERE". Those who aren't really sexually oriented to the same sex may look at this as fun. For those of us who are sexually oriented to the same sex, it can be serious business... and agonizingly long -- if not, the longest step of The Tribulation.
   
3. Realization - aka "coming out" to yourself, then to those you deem it is important to tell.
   
4. Undertaking - integrating into a 'new world' of living and smoothing over any aftermath of Step 3. Engaging the external world as Superman, rather than Clark Kent.
   

I'm well into the final step of the Tribulation, where I will remain for the rest of my life. My sleeping couch-hogger friend here has been on step 4 for years, and he skipped over step 1 like a leaping, happy sprite. Step 1 hit me in the face like a cinder block. The Godfather, who just turned 50, experienced a much longer Step 2 than I did. Once I tried a man, there was no denying that I liked it, and it didn't take long for me to wrap myself around the concept of 'gayness'.

So, henceforth, those who endure the Tribulation can relate, bond, and interact with each other on a different level of intimacy than family can. Given that, it's such a balancing act... to keep a close bond with family, while seeking out the support of my gay friends; and when the grandmother calls 4 times a day with the potential to carry on hours-long conversations, a brotha's gotta have some space sometimes.

I wish I didn't feel so guilty. I don't want to seem like I don't appreciate my family, because I do. I love them very very much. Even if they had disowned me, I'd love them. Even if they flush my ashes in the toilet after I die, I'd love them. But, tonight's little soiree is the continuity I enjoy -- and need... and enjoy it I will.

The Quiet Place

It's amazing how fast days fly by, especially when you are off from work. The sun seems to glide across the sky; eyes struggling to keep up with its graceful movement. Slow down, clock... I'm trying to think!

Today, one of my best friends has graced me with his presence - live from Chicago, IL. He escaped the impending blizzard and landed safely here in the Land of Random Weather. Last night, we went to one of Dallas' popular gay eateries, Hunky's. It's a diner-themed restaurant with patio space and plenty of glass to man-watch while grazing on my food.

Afterwards, we went across the street to the corner gay bar, J.R.'s -- a place I don't really frequent anymore since my favorite bartender no longer greets me at "point". But, on a Monday night, the pretentious crowd seems to be dimmed down to a light dusting of everyday guys just out for a few drinks and quieter conversation. We went upstairs and ordered a $2 rum and coke, which was 7/8th rum and 1/8th coke. Definitely a leg-spreader of a drink!

I haven't laughed and enjoyed myself like this in days. As we drank another, I noticed that the corner coffeehouse was closed down. I was kinda mummed over that, because I can remember the dates I've had there. It was where things began in my last relationship -- and now, fittingly, it was dark and empty. Only a string of icicle lights running along the roofline offered a glimpse of light -- almost like an afterthought. But in that darkness, there is opportunity for a new beginning. Perhaps something better will fill its bellows in the times ahead.

I've really learned to appreciate days off like these. Now that I'm back in the world of the living from multiple graveyard shifts, I've found a "quiet" place to enjoy. I feel alive... as though I was back in the picture above, experiencing the true peace and beauty that life has to offer -- if one'd only accept its embrace. Today is the day I'm doing just that!

Delicious and Unpretentious

So it's been about two months now since I've joined this organization known as For Men Only
based right here in Dallas, TX. I was fresh out of a relationship that ended suddenly and unexpectedly, leaving me wandering aimlessly amongst the shadows. On a tip from a co-worker, I found this organization on Meetup.com and decided to see what they were about.

The concept is very interesting, actually. Here we have hundreds of gay men that have a common goal of meeting new people for friendships and/or relationships. The environment is non-pretentious, and they opt to host social gatherings at locations other than the dark, ominous, meat racks known as gay bars. Yes, they really have my attention now! So, I gave it a shot.

Once I joined FMO, I browsed their calendar and noticed a martini social at a restaurant in Uptown Dallas known as the Margarita Ranch. I picked up the pieces of my heart and tucked them in my back pocket... slipped into a pair of jeans, dress shirt, and vest... and made my way over to the location in hopes of finding friendship and support. When I arrived that night, I was greeted warmly by the organization's founder and helpers. These were everyday men -- postal workers, bankers, techies, businessmen -- dressed not intimidating, but delectably casual. There were no sprites or fairies to be found; no glow sticks and tight jeans that left thighs and ass cheeks crying for air.

I found myself loosening up quickly, so I put on a name tag with a little green dot on it, which essentially tagged me as a "newbie". The restaurant staff provided us with chips/salsa and a menu of delicious $3 martinis to choose from. I opted for a mango martini to wet my lips. Within minutes, I was chatting with several gentlemen who had very interesting stories to tell. It was the most unpretentious setting I've ever encountered in the Gay Realm, and I left the event without the feelings of loneliness that I entered with.

It feels like I've found a much better way to interact with gay men. Technology has definitely altered the landscape of gay society and its dating dynamics... whether in a good or bad way, I'm not certain. Surfing popular chat sites tends to get so discouraging at times -- and more often than not, I'm left wishing the ESCAPE, BACKSPACE, and DELETE keys had much more functionality.

Rest assured, I'm constantly watching FMO's calendar for even more events such as bowling, happy hours, dinners, and especially outdoor events like camping. I feel so much more in a comfort zone knowing that I'm not going to be greeted with naked photos; questions about penis size; top or bottom; your place or mine. Not that I shun naked photos, but I ask myself, how am I expecting things to develop with someone if that's the FIRST thing aired out? What priorities are being advertised? Does that kind of "interaction" have anything to do with getting to know or everything to do with getting to blow? I'm interested in knowing the statistical success of long-term relationships that start online, versus the ones that don't.

For some reason, I wouldn't mind a different approach... bumping into a guy in a grocery store, knocking over his basket, helping him pick up his cucumbers, squash, and bananas, and then striking up a conversation leading to a date. It sounds so much more natural to me. At least you have already learned that the guy is okay with you screwing up from time to time... especially if you still leave with a phone number that doesn't start with area code 911 or prefix 555.