...ok, ok, if you read my last post - let's be up front I was carving out a k-hole (it's amazing I had the will to write), but I was soo caught up in this vision I had that I wanted to squeeze out the juices of it and see if it was drinkable. Overall the idea wasn't bad, but was still inadaquately conveyed in relation to the jumble of words and phrases trapped in my head to describe and relate it. (Tyler and Chad - man, my run on sentences must make your heads spins!)

...anyway - now I have a big steaming cup of black joe and have wolfed down a delicious PB&J, so let me begin again.

Somewhere between bumps and rewatching Laz Burman's retelling of Shakespeares 'Romeo & Juliet' and Oprah (the 1am airing) and 'Longtime Companion' I felt caught up in the emotional action of "suppression".

Watching the modern retelling of the Bard's classic tale of lovers woe you can't help but think that as our parent's children we feel so "duty-bound" to follow some set script they have for our words and our actions. When we so suddenly attempt to force open those doors and live our lives - rebelliously so - as ours, but still subconciously carry such a deepseated need for their approval - we fall into tragic or unfortunate circumstances. No we don't drink lye - or whatever - or hey was it 'G' that Romeo sucked down upon the vision of fair Juliet laying in her mock death bed, but we attempt to negotiate ourselves, our loved ones and our behavior, and as I recall - isn't negotiation primarily used as a tactic in hostage scenarios ?? So are we the 'hostage' or the hostage negotiator ? But it's this sense of negotiation that is tragic, we take so long to accept ourselves as we are - gay men (and women - I really need to start realizing and respecting that I have lesbian readers - sorry 'bout that), that we have grown used to daily negotiations and inconvienences to who we really are to meet the standards of others (family, co-workers, neighbors, strangers).

I mean - do you really think that your straight brother or sister ponders what they wear to Thanksgiving ?? I would wear a tie - but is that totally gay of me, I would wear my favorite tight beaten up well worn green t-shirt - but is that totally gay of me - or hell should I wear the Manhole t-shirt from last Friday night - now really that would be really gay of me - wouldn't it ?? Of course I know the suggestions for clothing are far reaching - but the fact is I HAVE to think about it first. I mean more importantly it's what I'm not bringing to Thanksgiving Dinner - my boyfriend. Somehow - with his family coming in town and my family already here - we just accepted that for all basic purposes - that we would celebrate the holiday seperately. On the day when I most have to ask what I am to be thankful for - one of the most important things is him.

So Oprah was about 'stepping out of your box', overcoming fears, and I kept thinking how can I translate this to these thoughts - well that and come on now honey WHITE WOMEN can come out of their box toooo gurl! -(ok - like I said it was 1am and I was high - I was going along for the ride). So now it's after 1am and my mind is still seeking and I thumbed through my DVD's and decided to rewatch 'Longtime Companion' - well actually first I thought about watching 'The War of the Roses' again to snap out of the funk - but I really, really wanted to ride the K out.

So I'm rewatching Campbell Scott (who really makes a lousy gay man) and Dermot Mulroney (who REALLY makes a great gay man) and the Mary Louise Parker (so baby-faced and young and even then a scene stealer and a potential sub-tier goddess) and I placed my friends faces and names on these people - and as the tragedy of the AIDS epidemic unfolded I thought about being twelve and gay and sexual active and first hearing the strains of "the gay cancer" wafting over a bright yellow school bus radio - I remember the tightening of my chest. I suspect with all honesty I was the only 8th grader on the bus that day thinking he was about to truly die for his sins - well maybe. I had just started sucking dick and it was already going to kill me. I had a FAMILY at the time to go to. BUT NOT A GAY FAMILY - not the family that we create for OURSELVES - those cherished friends and lovers who become friends and friends who become lovers and so on and so on. I didn't have a family I could confess my fears to, tell my dreams to, be honest with about who I really was. I had to ride out this terror that every man I touched was a death sentence alone. What I had then was The Montagues and the Capulets - a family that wanted to only know me and see me as they saw me.

So here I am and movie night has become some greater sense of something that I intended to blog about and put into words - but I kept writing and rewriting and couldn't find this statement.

There is only one true family to share the holidays with ...and it is the family that we created for ourselves.

Personal negotiation is character assasination. Justified inconviences that we take at the holidays - taking down the pictures from the White Party, the one of you and your boyfriend shirtless on a beach - or in a wig, putting away questionable books and movies, wearing this tie over that t-shirt. We box up some of our most treasured and beloved experiences for what - to not make our parents or siblings uncomfortable with who we are ??? It's wrong - it's just plain wrong that we feel a need to do that. And not spending a day intended for giving thanks with the person and the people we love is just plain cruel.


I think I got my thought out, I think I see it right here on my computer screen.

Thanks for letting me share.

Fag
Cocksucker
Butt Pirate
Pervert
Sodomite
Pansy
Faggot
Queer
Sissy

At moments in my life - both grandiose and insignificant, self-effacing and self-involved - I become so enthralled with who it is I'm trying/growing/hoping/pretending/focusing myself to be - that being succcessful, being "straight-acting", carrying on as if I was "normal" - actually seem attainable and pertinent attributes. Through it all perhaps somehow I forget one simple fact - to others - I'm still the 'gay guy' no matter what I say or do. As the holidays crush down upon us - the seperation between gay and straight becomes more evident or for some - more hidden.. We negotiate ourselves, our actions, our being. We become part of that larger family unit created through forced cohesion brought on by the holidays...but we arrive alone to the dinners, or more discreetly with a partner - a friend - in tow...and attempt to not push buttons and boundaries. We play our part as Sons and Uncles, Brothers and Cousins. We smile at our siblings children, applauding their efforts, patting their backs as we schedule bar time after Turkey to make it all bearable. We attempt to feel, even just a little - not out of place. So we forget - or we downplay - who we are - we are gay. We suspend kissing in public, and take down 'certain' pictures, we drop the endearments and push something intangible to who we are to the back of our minds til after coffee and cake. We give a back seat to the men that will be holding our hand when we die - to give the upper hand to a hetero sibling who managed to remember to bring pumpkin pie.

I am a Gay Man.

And somehow through the holidays I manage to be so much more....

I have "family" beyond my bloodline
And I have that to truly be thankful for.

....I feel like I'm at a loss for what I want to blog about lately. A great idea will surge in to my head about my "Top Ten Most Embarrassing Moments Ever" and then it will fade away, I'll write some clever one act play about absolutely nothing - and then decide it'll only humor me, I decide to share a poignant remembrance from the past and then think - eh, it's to whiny. So then I ended up not blogging at all - bloggus interruptus. There's stress all around these days: crushing work pressures, the IN-LAWS coming to town for Turkey Day, the coming together of my own terribly dysfunctional family, all that the holidays bring on and then just the everyday pressures of trying to be a better friend, boyfriend, son, employee, boss. So instead I find myself worrying about why I watch a movie called "Thirteen Conversations About One Thing" and it ends and I have no fucking clue what the "one thing" was ! I sit back in horror that 100 people have died in riots over something as trivial as the 'Miss World' pageant. I read Business Week and feel conflicted that Fox is making headway in his fight to recapture Mexico from the lawless ways of the drug cartel - I mean I don't want kids on crack or poverty or violence at the borders - but honestly I like most drugs. I watch "Bowling For Columbine" (with HER nonetheless) and I laugh and I clap and get choked up at all the write places - but then think - even Mike Moore can "spin doctor" a controversial subject - so where is the answer? I jerk off and think - if I watch "barebacking" porn am I endorsing poor safe-sex practices through my consumer dollar ? My head spins - my though pattern bobs, then weaves, then bobs again...and then I'm wondering if Traci Gold had stayed chubby if she would be still acting today ??

When I grow up I want to be:
A Star Fucker
A Fireman
A Sodomite
An English Professor
A Good Husband
A Bad Boy
A Chef
A Revolutionary
A Spin Doctor
A Porn Star
A Hustler
A Runaway
An Indie Movie Star
A Humanitarian