Guys,Glee, and Gaga

I want your LOVE

Love Love Love

I want your Love

Lady Gaga

Believe it or not I was one of the guys in my younger years. I counted in my circle the most sought after boys of the 6th grade. We went to the arcade together. We went to the mall together. We slept over each others places. I felt safe among my brothers.

By 8th grade this had all changed. It seems they all had perceived my latent homosexuality before me, and had started an elegant sidestep out of our friendships. I being the ever naive fairy I am, ignored their disinterest and preserved my worldview that people meant the best for me. I was cute and funny. My social calendar was full. I was a hit, with my Oaktree wardrobe and Jukebox TV dance moves.I was a star!

My first rude awakening came in the summer between middle school and high school. I had a roller coaster year with my newest bff. Freddy was a recent transplant from another suburb of DC. His parents were divorced. His mother, sister, and he were starting over. I could identify with his new boy status.I had become the new kid many times in my life. I also identified with his theatrical behavior. He was loud and gregarious, just like me. But in a far more masculine way. We became friends over long phone conversations.We basically ignored each other during school.

We had a but of a rowe at the end of the school year and Freddy began to pull away. There was some confusion over a joint class project. He failed and I got an A.He eventually saw my point and he changed his attitude. We became friends again or so I thought.

Midway through the Summer I started receiving threatening phone calls. An old man disguising his voice threatened to kidnap me from the bus stop on my first day of school. I had encountered prank callers before so I was unfazed.Upon deciphering my non-chalance the prankster escalated by speaking to my mother. Telling her that I was seen getting into strange men's cars before school the year before. That I sat with him until the bus came. That I sometimes pulled off with him and showed up to school late. My mother interrogated me like I was a terrorist threat!

The pranksters were brilliant! I couldn't *69 the number , because they *72'ed it blocking it. I finally decided on a process of elimination. Thinking of everyone that had my phone number and the audacity to pull this off. My deduction lead to Freddy. But before I could call him out, I received a call.

Freddy was on the phone with a fellow classmate. I had not really spoken to Freddy all Summer, although, I had called repeatedly. I just thought he was busy. This conference was about those calls. I wondered where he was and why he had not bothered to return my calls. He said I called to much and I had become a pest. The light bulb went off! I wasn't a pest, he just stopped being my friend and forgot to tell me. I told him as much, and he sadly agreed.

Although we attended the same high school. Even though we had neighboring home rooms. While he dated my closest female friend. He and I ignored each other completely. By the end of the Senior year he was voted most likely to succeed and I was voted most unique. I would rather be unique than "successful" any day!But that encounter hurts me to this day.

I was watching Glee on Hulu. I rarely watch. I rarely watch television. This episode connected for me in a way I forgot TV could. In the episode the theme of Gender and Family roles were etched in every scene. The plot line that touched me most was of the Jock and the Faerie.

Their parents are dating, and have taken the step to move in together. Merging the two households proves difficult for the young masculine character because of his perception of the effeminate character. Forced to share space, the Jock decides that things have gone to far when the Faerie decides to turn their space in to a tent fit for a Sheik. The father of the Faerie has to step in when the Jock abuses the term Faggoty, enough to raise an eyebrow.

When the dad takes a stand for his Faerie son, I realized that this episode was a message. The message to me was that men can always take a stand not to hate. Hate is a virus and it creeps around in the hearts of men and can cripple.

The episode went on to tackle sisterhood, motherhood, and individuality. I saw so much in this one episode. Another lesson came from the male members of the club rejecting Gaga in favor of Kiss! Brilliant! In order to fulfill their lesson of theatricality they embraced the Goth glam of the Legends of Kiss! After everyone shed their wigs and makeup the question remained who the people were underneath.

After losing all of my male cohorts, during my freshman year. I began to feel a freedom I had not known. In order to express this freedom, I started to dress strangely. I would wear layers and mash-ups of colors and patterns. One of my favorite looks was a faded salmon and navy striped shirt, I would pair with a long sleeved t underneath ( in any color), a graphic t (under the striped shirt but over the long sleeved t, also in any color). I would pair all of that with thrift store pants of various eras and cuts. My miss-matched style became the talk of the school ( good and bad)! I never listened to any of it. They way I dressed saved my life.

I was a depressed teenager. I had lost my friends that I came to high school with. I was living in a depressed home. And then there was the other statistical data. Dressing without rules gave me a real world example of boundlessness. I love the impossible. Its what I love most about myself. I never dressed weird for controversy. I did it because it was a statement from me to the world that the rules didn't apply to me. If they wished they could not apply the rules too and be whoever they wanted to be.Others were not my interest though. It was all about saving my spirit.

So the next time you see a strangely dressed person, realize that strange is relative. And we are all Family.

AIN'T THAT THE TRUTH!

Epiphany

I go through
All this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be
Safe Again with you
Bjork

So I discovered that I have an addiction! I am addicted to unavailable men. Cliche, as it sounds I truly received that message today. I search out the disappointments of men standing me up, avoiding my calls, and ignoring my needs. Its quite possibly the only thing I know of men.

I went to an Art Event tonite. My second featuring the talented Fahamu Pecou. I barely had two dimes to rub together, and I knew there would be free booze at the Gallery, so there I was. I got there extremely late. I had invited a guest. A gentleman I had been having great sex with for a number of weeks. The invitation was an attempt to move our relationship out of the bedroom.

I breached the subject of becoming more than bed buddies and he shared an enthusiasm to have more. There is the issue. Why did, I decide to move our sexual relationship into the platonic. Because, I had to know he couldn't follow through!

In my case, I am addicted to challenge. The challenges I'm addicted to are those I have struggled to overcome my entire life. The task in my mind is to get a man to want me, irregardless of if I truly want him. The less I want him the better. Father issues. Check!

My dad is a classic deadbeat! It took years for me to relieve him from his pedestal. I never acknowledged that his efforts were lackluster. I believed everyone that told me not to tear down my father's image due to his life choices. He was relieved of responsibility by everyone, so I let him off the hook too!So the first man I ever knew ,was the man I know least ,but feel the most drawn too. That's fucked!

I am searching for strangers. I need the men in my life to be enigmatic and hard to tie down or I get fearful. I just cant believe a man has the integrity to say what they mean, although I require
myself to live in honesty. I dare myself daily to be the honest man, I never met. The one thing I craved most, I give readily, a reason. I don't even care if its sufficient! I will settle for the excuse of not knowing better. I don't mind if you make the biggest goof a man can make, just offer an explanation. After that, I can decipher things like consistency and self responsibility. I can feel safe again with him. I can feel safe because I can take on the monster of uncertainty with that one head of the hydra removed.

I recognize that I began taking steps away from this addiction, long before I had these words. The clarity of admittion will hopefully lead me to a future of requiring answers and demanding accountability for the ways people handle my time, body, and emotions. And not only when they have done something wrong.


AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Why I LOVE Fashion!

VH1 TV Shows Music Videos Celebrity Photos News & Gossip

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

So I must admit to my inner Velvet Rage! I grew up in the Suburbs of Washington DC and life for me was void of excitement and interest.It seemed at some point around my early adolescence, I became obsessed with the idea of life being full of adventures.

I loved any movie that was set in Europe or an exotic location. I especially was devoted to James Bond. High speed chases and danger all around were my escapes. I was lucky enough to grow up around trees and quiet country roads. I would imagine myself on high speed chases,pedaling for my life on my Electric Blue Mongoose. If I was feeling particularly adventurous I would take on Construction sites.

I used to have a living room in the woods. Someone discarded a green sofa in a Clearing in the Woods beyond my neighborhood park.It was my lair. I would hatch plans to assassinate Despots and Terrorists. It was my place of safety.

As I grew, I yearned to be an international citizen. The word international gleamed in my head. Borders were nothing but imaginary lines, drawn by greedy men , seeking to control the most uncontrollable force on earth, Humanity. I was eager to join the world in a progression to Utopia. A world where I was an Earthling and not an American. That's why I have no problem picking up and moving to this day.

But underneath it all, I know its the Boogeyman. The narrative I created for myself in order to escape the tedium of life in the Burbs. Growing up in a Military Family, moving was a way of life. When my mother was honorably discharged from service, we retired to Clinton,Md. Where she could easily access her veterans access to Andrew Air Force Base. Our home was nice, and had a pool in the backyard. There were a few repairs needed.My life became a renovation project. It never turned out quite right.

My teen years in Suburbia fueled my urge for City living. I never want to return to the Suburbs. I never want to be bored and looking at just my neighbors house again. I never want to go from window to window and see virtually the same picture everyday. Barring changes in Weather or additions to the decor of my neighbors homes, the view was permanent. It gave me the feeling of entrapment.It was a prison. A mental prison ,nonetheless, I felt the need to RUN!I have ever since.

I want to stop, and lay safely in my over sized bed.I want to enjoy a prescription induced slumber. I want to stay out all night at parties with Artists and Dancers. I want to park my car in my garage with electric door. I want to accept invitations to visit friends in Villas on Private Islands. I want to have a dog. I want a husband. I want to have affairs. I want what I want. A life full of desire. Instead I keep packing and moving.

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

What dont happen in a year
Happens in a Day!
Dem Say

So Atlanta is finally unfolding for me. Letting me in to see the social side of this otherwise working class town. I had the best weekend ever! Here is the rundown.

Friday

I am dressed in my favorite uniform, Blue jean jacket and distressed denim pants. I have accented the blues with a beautiful pumpkin orange silk scarf. My new street hikers are olive green and they gently blend into the worn edges of my jeans. I feel very sexy.

I'm off to attend a Talk Show. Its talk show as installation piece by Atlanta artist, Fahamu Pecou. The guests include the editor-in-chief of local rag Creative Loafing, a local Art Critic, a guitar playing man mummified in Toilet Paper, and a founding producer of the Dungeon Family hip hop crew. I stood in the back. I learned so much about Atlanta pop culture. This City seems to be much more aware of the death of Nightlife than any other , I have encountered. I figure its due to the amount of Money, Atlanta saw during that period. As usual, I'm always too late for the real fun.

The ease with which everyone related was refreshing. It showed a capacity for diversity, that I feared this City lacked. Fahamu's candid nature and, fashionable appearance helped to maintain the edge of the scene. Mnsr. Pecou sports a "Gumby" ( that I learned in Atlanta has a much more complicated name), wears vintage suiting, and never removes his aviators. He is Bobby Brown meets Chris Rock with a sprinkling of Austin Powers.

Saturday

I FB'd Fahamu. We ended up chatting for quite a while.He is BRILLIANT! I am very excited about seeing more of his Art and his productions.

Later in the Afternoon,it finally happened. I got my boo to come over and chill with me. One problem, he wasn't free to come until the evening. He ended up showing up, right in time to pull me away from my BFF's housewarming. Luckily the BFF lives in the same apartment complex!

Between running back and forth to the party to pretend like I was indeed there, I was laying in my bedroom smooching and talking to my new boo. Luckily, the BFF never caught on. He was too wasted.

We ended that night at out local Boy Bar. Drunk and stumbly. I don't remember, how I got home.

Sunday

I got him twice! My boo and I decided to catch a movie. I got the tix online and we met up at the GAYTACULAR Piedmont park. He had been out chilling with friends. It was a nice casual meet up. I could tell they were a little taken aback, by his size. What can I say! I love a Big Ol' teddy bear! I hugged him Hello. Hugged my friends Goodbye. These are the days when I feel the most blessed. I can feel safe to love in my own way in the Sunshine! No need to go darting in dark corners or back alleys. I can love out in the open. To know within my lifetime that this occurred is beautiful. To know it doesn't happen everywhere, and I get to experience it, is very humbling.

We saw Date Night. Starring Tina Fey and Steve Corell, this movie is funny x 10. It was a perfect movie for two SNL fans on their first real date. We ended the night, walking off the Burgers we had for dinner at Atkins Park ( I know perfect name for a Burger joint). I enjoyed a cup of Ben& Jerry's Oatmeal Crunch, while we strolled down North Highland. A strip of Bars and boutiques a little off the main roads. It was a perfect night.

So as you can see, I haven't been blogging this week. That's because the weekend extended to Wednesday! I will give you part deux, manana! LOL!

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Talk to Me

Your always actin so composed and cool

Never got many words for me

You always turn your head to make sure I see

Baby ain't nothin wrong with the love

You and I dream of, So sweet

Your eyes can say more than your lips can speak

Amerie

Sometimes when you are getting to know someone, you have to rely on emotional intelligence. More often than not, you should back up your intuition with communication. The scenario, I try to avoid is the misconception that creates miscommunication.

I have been the victim of fantasies my entire life. I am a Tall, Athletically built, African-American Male. People would always walk up to me and ask me about football and girlfriends. I am non-gender performing. As a Poet once noted I stand flat footed, akimbo, with hands firmly on hips. I am at ease with my feminine nature.

Dating men, the fantasies have ranged from stereotyping to fetish. I look intimidating, people say. This leads to men approaching me to be dominated. I have a masculine appearance ( stereotypically). This leads to men disappointed by my gay cultural mannerisms. I make no apologies, but I am a sophist. I behave according to the environment.

The worst fantasy to be cast in is that of relationship monger. This often occurs when one participant is a commitment phobe ( usually unaware), and the other is a communicator. Heterosexual couples tend to rely on gender stereotypes to explain this scenario. Being SGL when one faces this crises, it can often leave both parties pointing fingers.

I have witnessed numerous weekend plans, conversations about goals, or inquiries like" what are you up to" cause breakups between male/male couples.The commitment phobe (CP) assumes everything is about gaining control. The communicator assumes every omission is a tactic. Assumptions although problematic are natural. It is the conscious effort to dispel the perception, that builds a relationship.

The CP has to realize that all interactions are a relationship. In every communication your a gaining more access to a person and them to you. No matter what you do. The unavoidable consequence of social interaction is a memory. Make it the best one you can.

The communicator has to act definitively and without fear. Problems tend to erupt from coding your inquiries. Realize your intentions are only transparent to you. Talk from intention. And be ready to listen.

It is neither persons fault that relationships fail. The failure of a coupling has too many variables to point blame. Open you heart. Open your eyes. Look with your mind. Hear with your soul.

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Daddy's Home

I ain't gotta do a lot of flexin

Shorty you already know what it is

And girl tonight we gonna do a lot of sexin

Can't nobody do your body like this .

Usher

So one of my mentor's was curious about current day ATL. He said he left this City more than a decade ago. I am guessing he hasn't been back. I don't blame him.

The culture of this City is best described as, What one person cant get away with another one can. It may not be your style to wear a wig in 80 degree weather,with a creme and chocolate pinstriped suit, but that guy did and he loves it!That's not a sign of mental illness, he just like wearing that! Don't you judge him.

But I do. I judge people based on how they prepare for the elements. I discern whether a person is safe or not by how they move. I look for signs that a person is genuine or not. If none of that is important to you, you will love Atlanta.

I have met some of the most inconsistent, inconsiderate, downright crazy people I have ever met in all of my years. I have been stood up, lied to, begged from, and callously handled more in Atlanta than New York City, Washington D.C., and Boston combined. I assure you, the offenders are all Atlantans or Southerners. ( It is often argued that most of the offensive people here are Northerners).

The biggest problem with Atlanta's culture is it is in denial. The roads take you through not to, so Downtown Atlanta is skid row. Gas is expensive, yet most people live and work in opposite suburbs. Most people I know commute at least 45 minutes to work. The biggest industry is Service/Hospitality. A field known for late hours. Yet, Public transportation is scarce.There is no Medicare, yet there is one institution responsible for providing health care for the cities growing uninsured population. The African American community presents itself as a force but leave millions of Atlanta residents homeless or living in blight.

The Architecture is contemporary and creates a sprawling skyline. By sprawling I mean, disconnected. There are about 5 skylines and they belong to varying centers of business. There is Dunwoody, Buckhead. Smyrna, Downtown, and Midtown. I often see one to the east but I refuse to venture that way. This creates a lot of centers of population. People live everywhere! You will not have the comfort of running into your friends at the supermarket. Forget late night meet ups at IHOP! Your friends are too exhausted and live too far away.

This makes dating almost impossible. But the denial virus spreads quickly. Invites to Come Chill are frequent. That's because travel, gas, and restaurant tabs are too expensive for random dating. Plus he probably lives in some unremarkable place that you will never find in daylight on your own. He is not worried about that anyways, because he will probably move next month. Lease!Schmease!

The saving grace of Atlanta is the Land. It is a rolling lush green paradise of deciduous and evergreen forests. It is so brilliantly blue and green looking out over Atlanta's landscape that I often feel that I am on another planet. It is hyper real. There are lakes and Mountains nearby. The pervasive Kudzu that overtakes buildings and empty lots. This is why I love Atlanta.

I guess something can be said for a City that lets people openly be the messes we are. It is taking some adjustment. Where I consider home, people are very clear about there personality. Up north, people take great strains to protect their private lives. Not down here! People wont say what they are thinking, but they will clearly demonstrate their distaste. It is a very human place. I will keep you posted as to if I'm home for good.
AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Come Close to Me

Your heart and mind, baby, follow it,
Smile, happiness you can model it,
And when you feel opposite,
I just want you to know,
Your whole being is beautiful
Common


You don't know what to do about what you are feeling. The entire scenario has climaxed. It is not what you wanted, planned, or expected. Its a disappointment. All you have left is, WHY?

The questions are the same for every scenario. No matter what the extremity of the situation.Banal to violent, the events that led to this point lead a path back to intention.Relationship building is the work of intuiting and understanding your partners motives.

You read a text and wonder about word choice.

It all started with a reply. I was invited to hang with him and friends. Mr.Suburban had made it clear he was not interested in making an extra effort so that I could come. I contemplated joining him later in the evening and was rebuffed. " They are acting a fool..."What!? In my head, this is an evasion. I say "Ok :( Enjoy Urself". I thought over it all night.

There is the step after you know you are attracted to each other. In this level of coupling, you are supposed to start adventuring.Memories of your times together must be crafted in a unique way. You take each others hands and run off to find a space where you can enjoy being yourselves. Separately yet together you will look for ways to impress each other with the world you see. Showing off objects and abilities developed in your imagination communicates to your new friend, your capacity for trust.I feel me and Mr. Suburban have skipped this part. A unscheduled detour that we did not have enough fuel to complete.

Then it happened. He text me, after I had written him off. I executed a strategic text conversation to allow my feelings to come out without abrupt disorder. I was pleasant. In actuality, I was livid. I felt taken for granted and dismissed. That I wasn't enough to attract this brutha back my way. I was ashamed.

In an act of chivalry he initiated a phone conversation. I felt relieved to hear him listen to my complaints. I did my best to keep it simple.

When you were a kid and found a new friend, you kept a tally of the extremity of offenses committed to you.Your feeble attempts to gain revenge or stop the infractions, developed the power dynamic of your relationship. Hopefully on your way to self development you discovered the concept Positive Reciprocity. That love is feeling you are fed and its contagious, you spread it. It is energy that reverberates a powerful abundant feeling. When you feel the unloving act of a new friend you must firm your boundaries.

We discussed the infraction and he mended his error with an apology. More than the apology was the acknowledgement that his actions had a negative impact on me. Today I feel very positive about us. Today I feel like I, indeed have a new friend.


AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Venus As a Boy

Its so Lonely
When I'm only
Being Me
Janelle Monae

I am an Oddball! I have deduced the origins of my un-mainstreamness to stem from several sources.I am the Military brat son of a Military brat raised in the (then) most affluent African American Suburb in the nation ( therefore, the world). My peers recognized my difference enough to nominate me as the Most Unique person of my class. ( Yes! I am proud of that!)

It has never been easy being me. There are so many things I just don't understand. Somehow I manage to make it in the world. When I have conversations and someone uses the ubiquitous "they", as in "You know what they Say?" I always wondered who they were. I assumed these they people must have it right. I have spent the better part of my life studying the "They"s. I found out that "They" are not plural. They is a singular entity. They is code.

I know I am strong willed. I have very little patience for laziness, especially when it comes to how someone treats me.

So today, I have to report that the news is officially in. He's not that into me. He may be into me somewhat. But not THAT into me. I could accept it, if he didn't make such half hearted efforts to persuade me.

I am waiting for a text or a phone call, to determine when he will be arriving to whisk me off to the suburbs for supper with his friends. He assured me that his friends were eager to see me. That they were curious , in regards to, me and the progression of our coupling. Mid-afternoon, I decide to text him. He makes me aware that his brunch plans were stalling out. I assured him I was free for dinner, but needed to be back by 7pm. I was double booked for Easter supper. Next text he informs me the evenings timetable has changed and dinner would be served at 6pm.

All this continued for several more lines of conversation, until I decided to cancel. He didn't seem to have a plan in place. Worse, he didn't ask how he could make sure he spent some time with me that night or later in the week. I don't read in between the lines well. Imma need you to say something baby. And preferably it's Get over her and take them draws off!OWWW!

I wont go further into the details of the conversation, but things went from bad to worse. We ended up not seeing each other at all last night. Weekend #2 since we revealed our mutual crushes and singlesness. A month plus after we initially met. According to my clock, we should be rockin and rollin!

I was talking to my friend TV about it all, and he agreed that the fella seemed to not be that into me. He told me to continue living my life, and don't distance myself. I can try. But I know what I know. Spring has sprung and if my eyes land on another, then my Mr. Suburban will be parked for an Expedition with a convertible Roadster. As of now there are know prospects on the Horizon. Maybe I will meet a cutie at the Janelle Monae concert tomorrow!

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Nothing

I went to the Doctor and guess what he told me

Guess what he told me

He said girls you better try to have fun

No matter what you do

But he's a fool

Cause Nothing Compares

Nothing Compares 2 U

Prince sung by Sinead O'Connor

( I couldnt quote the Janet Song, I just couldnt)

This weekend Tyler Perry's production of Why did I get Married Too! Hit the theaters. I'm sure it will do well without my attendance. I love the idea of a sequel for a Drama. However, I wasn't invested in those characters at all. I could easily wait for the DVD.

I will go if my friends decide to do a field trip. Movies like these deserve their own category. Crowd Pleasers that are aimed at a particular demographic. There probably is a Marketing Term for these films. Most likely something offensive.

I am glad to see the return of the Cast though. Especially Malik Yoba. Can I get an AMEN! That brutha has lived in my castle in the sky since New York Undercover. And by Castle, I mean my nineties dream of a Downtown loft with a view of Manhattan and the sweet smell of incense and Ganja in the air.

Malik was the original Terrance Howard. A continuation of the Billy Dee , smooth operator that had his feet in both the streets and City Hall. ( Am I casting a Mahogany Remake)Malik plays the spanish guitar, speaks Spanish ( I think he is part Cuban), and exudes a Dowtown Brooklyn vibe that was the entire feeling of my teenage years. Lets Give it up for the Brutha!

If u dont know about his skills, PEEP!

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Tightrope

Whether your High or LOw

You Gotta

Tip on the Tightrope
Janelle Monae



I love this WOMN! But more than what she looks like and her vocal talent. I love her fearlessness. I understand her.

Its Easter Weekend, and I am not into it. I don't like Holidays, especially religious ones. They bring about a level of bourgeois performance anxiety that I am immune to , but am always the victim of.Most of my memories of Holidays as a child were quite traumatic. I never liked the idea of showing off just for the cameras. Either this is something you lived or didn't.

I had a bit of a tiff with my BFF today. He continues the anxiety ridden tradition of Holiday time. I knew I was in trouble when I got the text a few days ago. What are you doing for Easter? First of all, what do people do for Easter? My friend TV wisely surmised that Easter is a "Let Down". You only get Chocolate, the ridiculous clothes, and the Bonnets. I agree, I don't even like chocolate.

One of the most Iconic memories of my childhood takes place during Easter. My father, whom I am the namesake and spitting image of, was newly returned from Prison and wanted to spend Easter with me. There is a photo of us. I, missing my two front teeth, am smiling from ear to ear in my Gray pinstripe suit. The suit was accented with Pink shirt and Pink Satin Bow tie. I am holding a stuffed bunny, and my dad is holding me. We make a handsome pair.

I devoured the customary Easter Supper. I was satisfied and ready to shed my suit and begin my playtime, when my father's aunt informed me that she couldn't believe how much I enjoyed the Rabbit stew! I thought it was chicken. I smiled and went up stairs. I looked at my stuffed bunny smiling at me on my bed. I cried for about 10 minutes.

Holidays are an excuse to show off. It is yearly progress report for relations chosen and sanguine. Everyone can come together and be proud of the accomplishments of that day. I excused myself from Easter dinner tomorrow. But I will probably show up. ( Im in charge of the refreshments)

After a good Diner one can forgive anybody, even one's own relations
Oscar Wilde
AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Everyday's Holiday

When I think of you
Better days and get aways
Cuz everydays a Holiday
With You
Esthero

Its Good Friday and its a warm spring day. I love the warm air and the tingle of spring. The reawakening of my senses and libido. Some people want to cuddle and be close all winter. Winter depresses me( Yea I'm one of those people). Because I am a teddy bear type of guy, I often get the winter husband status. One of my winter husbands has lasted for a few years now. I love him and he knows who he is.

I often think about a monogamous life, living in the suburbs with children with him. Although we are both City people with voracious sexual appetites, I still dream. The song that inspired today's post is "Our" song. I cant hear it without thinking of him.

We used to take these road trips around DC . Just drive and smoke up and ride. This was before Gas prices went crazy. Even though I loathe driving, I enjoyed the pointless nature of it all. One spring day we hopped in my little sports car and put on the Esthero EP. It is one of my favorite Cd's to smoke to,to this day. We drove around the Chesapeake Bay towns of Annapolis and Chesapeake Beach. We got a little lost and laughed about it. He taught me how to relax.

I am usually at ease in other people's company, but when the intimacy grows, I tend to get anxious. I begin to crave alone time. Irritability and critical thoughts begin to crowd out pleasantries. He always met my abruptness, with a giggle. He would shake his head and say Baby you need to give that shit up. I didn't understand. But I knew to shut the hell up.

Single person behavior is the hardest thing to give up when embarking on a relationship. Eating cold cuts out the pack while reading fashion magazines. Picking between my toes until they are raw. Laying around in PJ's for three days. You may get back to all of that but it takes a period of adjustment. You have to adjust to feel comfortable to resume the behavior. They have to feel comfortable enough to accept your needs while maintaining their boundaries.

I am seeing a guy right now that I can't seem to pull out of the house. He lives in the suburbs. Something I would have avoided if we had met on the Internet. I would have tried to judge his mobility through an interview. Do you come to the city often? What do you do for fun? What is your favorite restaurant?

I have a little fear that he is not that into me. However, he reassures me to not have any fear, he is indeed into me. He admits to his lazy streak and warned me of his traumatic allergies. I'm going to stick it out. Better days and get aways, he is not. Maybe I had that already. Maybe my "Everyday's Holiday" man will be the only one. I know for sure, he would tell me to Give this shit up and enjoy the brother as he is.

Love you ALWA7S

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Just Call Me Xstacy Jones

Why don't ya ll go over there
Or sit over here and watch?
The only thing you have'nt done for me
I show me why that name is ecstasy!
Dru Hill


Whenever people speculate if Celebrities, and especially musicians are gay I always chuckle. I mean really, the guys playing football and basketball in high school always gave a side eye to Chorus boys. Yes there are gay men that have wide public acclaim and stardom. One in particular, taught me a love lesson I will never forget.

Sometimes the winters in NYC can be so unbearably bitter that the only refuge is the phone. I was looking for conversation on a blustery night of mist and wind. The greetings fellows chose to entice one another with were always so stereotypical. Yo Nigga here looking to hook up with that bottom-No Fats No Fems. As a consistent in-betweener myself I ignored those guys. That eliminated nearly 75% of the chatline. The other voices were trannies, heavy breathers, silent, and the occasional normal guy looking for a chat.

I must admit, I had once or twice hooked up with a chatline guy. It was much more of a process for me than other people I noticed. I never trusted that the person was who they said they were. I imagined every person I chatted with was really a 500 lbs, blind, slob, with a face full of warts.

Wassup Guys, I'm looking to chat. Hit me back! His voice was a raspy low whisper. I pressed to talk with him and the chat operator connected us. It was awkward at first and we stumbled into a conversation about music. He was a church boy and loved his gospel divas. I was really into trip hop at that time and I was all about my Portishead and Moloko. I felt like the devil to his angel. We talked until the chatline told us we would have to pay to talk longer. We quickly exchanged phone numbers.

I hung up and my phone immediately rang. He was laughing and making jokes about the things he heard on the chat line. I eventually started to drift off. I am not a phone person. He suggested he could come over and keep me company. I was staying at a friends close to downtown BK and he was just over the bridge in Manhattan. I said sure. My girl wouldn't mind me having someone over. She did warn me to change the bedding before I left!

An hour later there was a knock on the door and there he stood. He had on a grey sweatsuit that seemed to be a little nicer than one you could get on Fulton street. His Timberland Boots were spotless (I have a sorta fetish for that). His shearling was so beautiful I wanted to sleep in it.

He rushed in and began talking immediately. He asked if I had any alcohol. Fuck its cold out there! U got any thing strong? He said everything with a laugh. He was just a tad shorter than me.He appeared bulkier than his hands let on, slender wrists. I went to take his coat and welcome him in. He took his coat off and slammed it on the floor. He crashed down on the sofa. I picked up the coat and hung it on the closet door.

I sat across from him in my PJ pants and a tank top. We began to chat again. I found him some hot cocoa. He remarked he hadn't had a cup of hot chocolate in years. When I took the cup from him he smiled at me and said You are a really sweet guy. I felt warm inside. He was really handsome in a relateable way. He had a process in his hair and a Cheshire cat grin.

I began to feel sleepy and told him if he wished to stay, he was welcome to the couch. He put his hand on my ass and said Are you sure? No I wasn't. I invited him upstairs. I though what could a little make out session hurt.It didn't hurt at all. Not a single inch of him. I went to sleep with a smile on my face and his legs wrapped over me.

When I woke up, he was getting dressed. I could smell him moving around. Fahrenheit. He moved slowly trying not to wake me. I purred Good Morning. He came and leaned over me and gave me a kiss on the forehead. I felt okay with what had happened. He apologized for waking me, I looked so sweet sleeping. Everything was sweet! He told me he would be out of the country for a while and he would hit me when he was back in NYC. I told him I was a big boy and could handle a one night stand. Inside I was a little sad. I slipped on my tank and PJ pants and walked him downstairs. His cell rang, he mumbled OK. I went to the door. He grabbed me from my waist and pulled me back. Kissing my shoulders and grabbing my thighs, he whispered thank you. I opened the door. A black car pulled up he hurriedly ran to it. Layered up with Sunglasses on, he looked so expensive.

I was watching TV later that day and Kurt Loder came on with his monotone voice.He announced that Dru Hill would be leaving NYC for international Tour dates. They would stop by TRL on Monday.

I nearly spilled my Honey Nut Cheerios. I knew he looked familiar. I called him immediately, and told him to bring me back a souvenir. He laughed and told me he thought I knew, and I said Its not like you have blond hair!

I did see him again. Years later. I don't think he recognized me.


PSYCH! APRIL FOOLS DAY!

What R&B Star Would you sleep with?

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Full Moon

Your smile, and all your showin
Lets Me know that you
Like what you see
And wanna get to know me too
This could very well, be the start of something special
Happy that I met you!
Brandy

If you haven't had the view of the Beautiful full Moon that's gracing the sky right now, you are missing an awe inspiring sight. I love the Moon. It is a love affair that has lasted. The Moon my man. This Moon being the true first of the year, has inspired me to talk about firsts. (By true first I am referring to the Vernal Equinox)

My first date ever was a comedy of errors. I was around 18 and I had spotted this adorable guy at a bar. We were always hanging in Bars, not drinking, and turning down advances from men in there 30's. I had seen him with the crew of super bougie Howard U. students I knew of. They were always looking over their shoulders and laughing in this self conscious yet showy way. Like they were having the time of their lives, but at your expense. I noticed his ass first. Although, I had no clue what I would do with that much badonkadonk!

I approached him, he was finishing up a game of darts and I asked him if I could play. I bet him a date if he lost. We went out the next night.

I drove up the steep hill that cuts through the plantational campus. My put-put of a car barely made it. I wasn't concerned, I had a car, bottom line. I wisely, parked around the back of the dorm. He walked out looking every bit of HBCU preppy and stole my heart. I was all teeth and gums. As we walked to my car, I apologized for it. I was self -conscious now. He just got in and looked around and smiled. I told him to wind down his window, because I had no A/C.

It was a warm September night. We went somewhere and did something. It was fun and we decided to walk around Dupont Circle for a while. We reached the south corner of the circle where one of the buildings cuts a sharp angle, making the shape of the structure a giant wedge of cheese. At the vertex,at street level was a Benetton store location. They had a specially angled display to catch the eye of people stuck in the infamous roundabout. Well I was intrigued by something which caused me to get a closer look. I leaned forward to see whatever it was. SMACK! There was a pane of glass, clean and clear. I had hit my head on the angled glass! My adorable date, now fell into himself with laughter. I was still stunned. It hurt.

I have recently met another adorable teddy bear of a man and we have had our first and second dates. We are at a stage in our courtship where we text 0r speak daily. I want him more and more everyday. This is new for me. I have been out of practice, but he is open and easy to communicate with.

We discovered we liked each other, one sunny day during a random text conversation. He was following up on our previous conversations about podcasting ( His podcast is an ATL fave). He mentioned something about me being gracious with my time. I let him know that he was able to access me as much as he liked. We have been happy flirting ever since. I often wonder if I approached him the night we met, would we still be this jovial. Did I achieve a little more success,by being patient. It was nearly a month after we initially met, that we confessed our interests.

I think a lot of times, I have jumped the gun, and put my agenda on the table in the honor of transparency. I now think it just makes my intentions clear for the other party to trifle with. It sounds so jaded to me. But I think I will let it play out from now on. I will exchange information and pursue a relationship based on mutual interests. I am not so sure. I guess I am asking, If you know you want it, must you always front?
AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Acapella

You are the drum in my heart beat
Bass and guitar lead
Stuck on the notes you play
Kelis

I have always longed for love.BIG romantic LOVE! Attention I have always had. Friends, family and lovers I have had in abundance. I guess I am insatiable because, none of it seems to compare to the feeling of a man's tenderness directed solely at me. Even if only for a moment.

I was in need of that touch, one cool fall night in Brooklyn. My phone rang and I lazily said Hello. I am at Grant Ave, do you want to see me? I looked at my phone to read the ID and there it was. Quincy. I agreed, hopped in my late 80's model Camry, and drove the three blocks to pick him up. He was smiling at me when I pulled up.

He got in and didn't look my way, and asked where I wanted to go. I decided to take him on a drive. I was tired of being in the apartment. He rolled up a blunt full of pungent blueberry and made small talk. We wound our way through Queens until I saw the east side skyline of Manhattan. He directed me to a park in the Jackson Heights neighborhood. We can smoke here. We got out and started walking along the river edge. We saw guys in the shadows, doing various freaky things. One male/female couple were clearly about to go half on a baby, on the hood of a white pimp mobile. I knew what kind of park this was, but was slightly amused he brought me there.

We had met months ago and never hung out. He was a friend of a friend. We talked fashion and music. He was from Baltimore and he had a gold crown on his tooth to prove it. I overlooked it, because everything about his style was so on point. Vintage golf caps matched to argyle socks, thrift store t-shirts and limited edition denim, all worn with a frayed denim jacket. I think he would have worn that jacket to a funeral. He never took it off. And I never saw his legs in public.

Months after making acquaintance, there we were smoking a cigar full of ganja, on the side of an abandoned swimming pool overlooking the East Harlem river Skyline. Do you like me? I coquettishly asked. I am not good at noticing when guys are into me. He took a puff, inhaled, and exhaled Yea.

To say I was surprised would be the least of things, because at that very moment the cops showed up. Far flung the blunt and out came the cigarettes. He moved with the dexterity of a lifelong bad boy. I lit up and moved slowly toward him, in terror. Its fine. He cooed. My fear evaporated. The cops didn't even stop at us. But they eventually found somebody to harass. The couple on the car. Good thing to, that girl I heard say she was 14.

We got back to Fort Greene, where he lived and I dropped him at a bar. He said he was meeting friends and would call me later to see if I was up. I smiled and stonedly made my way home. Blaring my ( later stolen) copy of the instrumental version of N.E.R.D's first release. I was no longer alone in the City. I felt well pleased. I also felt,thirsty. So I stopped at the next corner market I saw and grabbed a gallon of water.

I had downed the thing in a matter of blocks. While waiting at a light on Eastern Pkwy, the urge to piss hit my loins with a BANG! I swerved out of traffic, down the access street and onto a side street. No shortage of abandoned buildings to use. I barely stopped, through on the parking brake and jumped out. I left my door open and ran three steps into a demolished tenement structure. I pissed a fury of water all over the place. I was in ecstasy.Crisis avoided, I returned to my vehicle. A stoop boy across the street said something to me. I ignored him and pulled off. I turned to get back to my route. Green light. White Van! I am about to have a head on collision with a white church van!

Then the sirens and the noise is everywhere. " Get out of your car with your hands up, NYPD" Everything else is a blur. All I remember is something about them looking for crack, and making me take off my shoes. I yelled for people to look and make sure the boys in blue did not mistake any of my movements as furtive. I survived that ordeal, only to return to my car with no rear view mirror and stuff everywhere. I decided to just deal with it later and pulled off again.

When my high rise was in full view on Linden Blvd. My phone rang. Hey chocolate, are u home? I shakily replied no. I was completely sobered up. He asked if I wanted company, I replied sure. I am at your stop. I made the right and went and scooped him up.

We came back to my place. He rolled another blunt. We smoked and we talked about designers, while he played in my hair. He kissed me on my neck. I began to cry. He didn't ask me any questions, he led me to my futon,helped me out of my clothes, and laid me down. He got undressed. He laid beside me. He rolled my large frame onto his slender one. I fell asleep. I loved Quincy that night. He came to see me every night that week. He moved back to Baltimore after that.

Until him NYC had been very lonely. Thank you Quincy.

AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Paper Bag

I was staring at the sky looking for a Star
To prey on
Or wish on
Or something like that...

F.Apple



I have indeed dated several other fellows where our relationship barely made it to the light of day. And not for any other reason but shame or fear. The only way I can come to terms with my ability to put up with the claustrophobia is I had accepted a policy of radical acceptance. Radical Acceptance is a phrase I picked up from perusing Buddhist philosophy. I just like the idea that two people can hold on to the core of who they are while building a third person, if you will.

I am not sure if many men understand this concept. Or at least not the ones I attract.

Enter Tyrone

Tyrone, was a second year law student at Howard Law. He swore I was smiling at him in the dark lower level of the landmark Fireplace bar, located on the edge of Dupont Circle. I noticed him staring at me and I had not been stared at in that way before. He had a wild look in his eyes and a New York bravado. He was extremely masculine and approached me aggressively. He smelled of faint musk and wore camouflage, GI Bill law student, just out of the closet DRAG. I was intrigued.

After a short sabbatical in Harlem at my friends apartment. I returned to DC ready for a cold winter. I had been very depressed and not sure of my direction. University of Maryland College Park was the antithesis of the small private New England College I previously attended. I was eager for an adventure. Tyrone and I would go to places I had never dreamed of.


He taught me things about my body. The first time we hooked up at his apartment. I was so nervous. Every touch he landed on me sent me into quivers. He growled and tugged on my clothes. He snarled and smacked my thighs. He appreciated the things on me that I always disliked. My love handles, man boobs, and flat awkward feet. He caressed, massaged, and nibbled every bit. He found a spot on my lower abdomen that sent me into convulsions, of laughter. I was playfully rejecting him, pushing is head away. He pinned me down. looked me dead in the eye. " Laughter is resistance, don't you feel good when you laugh. Relax and laugh."And did I, it was the most innocuous tickling I ever experienced. Thats coming from a former child tickle addict. I would almost pay people when I was a kid to get tickled. I am not ticklish anymore.

Wait I have to back up!

Before Tyrone there was Kindle. This was all around the turn of the millennium. It was the shedding of my need to be pursued and the beginning of my season of love lessons. Kindle was Tyrone's developmental course.

I was a waiter at a conspicuous Dupont Circle restaurant. I was stationed on the sidewalk table section and the late spring winds were picking up. I saw a massive figure moving slowly my way from across the lanes of traffic on the always snarled roundabout. I felt as if I willed him to walk over. Although I was closing the patio, I ran in and begged to take one more table, at the guests request. I have never wanted to feed a man more.

Somehow, I knew I had to ask him out. I put on a bravado, I don't really have to this day. But he was down with getting to know more about me. I went home and called all my friends for a conference. We decided I was ready. I was only 20 but I never got carded. I got a fake ID just in case.

We dated our way around the world; Ethiopian restaurants in the bustling Adams Morgan neighborhood, Brazilian themed lounges in Dupont Circle south, Sexy Uptown Jazz clubs on the Historic U street. We were a handsome pair of chocolate men. We flirted with each other in a simple and boyish manner. Backhanded quick slaps to the torso, accented with a sly grin. The brush of the thigh when rising from the bar, always accompanied by mumbled excuse me. I couldn't wait to go to bed with him.

I never did get him in the bed. One night hanging out in the tony remote neighborhood of Friendship Heights, we were on the side of his car playing brotherly love. I was getting frustrated. I excused my self for the night. Moved in for a hug and he picked me up! While I had those luscious lips in reach, I went in for a peck. I promptly found myself on the ground. ( Stumped ) Me too!

As he pulled off in his family style car, I slowly hung my head and walked away. I waved behind myself as he honked to acknowledge his departure. I felt a sick feeling. Rejection is such a bitch. I was forced to acknowledge that Kindle was simply not into me. It took 2 weeks of phone calls to get him out of my system. We bump into each other every now and again. I swoon every time.

Back To Tyrone



I am in tears. We are standing on the East facing terrace of the National Capital Building. I am filled with a trembling I had not experienced. " I love you" had regressed me to an age before words. I was at once angered and in disbelief, thus producing confusion. I have always liked to be disoriented. The feeling of dizziness comforts me and always has. But this was more. It was too perfect. Cecil Beaton could not have set it better. I was on the set of An American in Paris. He was Gene Kelly and I was whoever she was. I needed an emotion and tears were picture perfect. The mist, the overly productive fountain, the night air, all of this was set into motion just to give me a reason to "ugly" cry.

I'm not sure where my next " I love you" will come from, but the first one was too much. Next time, I would like a faint stench of some sort and the plain setting of a chain restaurant. A laughing " I love you" over Ihop! That's what I want.

I will tell you what became of Tyrone on another post


AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

Window Seat

I need for you to want me
I was thinking and discussing my past relationships with my SistaGurl Destine. I am often the one giving her the advice, so I rarely flip the script. Besides the fact she has the attention span of a gnat. But since I rarely enter into courtship, I needed someone to let me vent. She obliged and I had an epiphany,I am terrible at dating!
I thought I was a perfect date. I am full of wit and energy. The conversation will ebb and flow with hints of devilish flirtation. I think of a date with me like having a never-ending supply of your favorite bubbly refreshment. Its after that, its the third and fourth dates where I stumble.

It may be because I am often in very clandestine affairs.
Enter the Nigerian

He is a Napoleon sized charmer with a thick west African accent. He tends to giggle with a sense of aloofness, especially when discussing politics. He is a Republican. This is not going to work. However, on the third date,he says" You are my boyfriend, I don't care what you say!" I thought it was cute. I agreed and we stayed together for nearly a year.
I lived in a rooming house in D.C's Columbia Hgts neighborhood. I had the top floor street facing room. I pretended that it was a Parisian apartment. I hung posters and had tons of junk everywhere. And this is where we had our relationship.
He had children and lived in the suburbs with them. He divorced the mother a year earlier and he had just started to venture into the World of Men. He would always say "I don't see very many happy men that are Gay" I understood what he was saying. He meant he wanted to be happy and felt a great fear that he wouldn't experience the joys that he had with his heterosexual relationships. Milestones like Engagement,Marriage, and children all seemed like purely Male/Female relationship practices. he had not been exposed to HomoMatrimony or SGL Partners as Family heads. I decided I would love him enough to change his mind.
He did real estate work. appraisals and property inspection. We would go on long road trips to rural areas in Maryland, West Virginia, and Virginia. We listened to talk radio and country music ( his favorite). The only exception was Robin Thicke's " Lost Without You". Lawst Weeeth-ouT U. He would hold my hand and say in his curt little accent. I loved him.
He was obsessed with getting us a condo in the city. But I refused to give up my neighborhood. He accused me of not trying to compromise. I reminded him we were fine in my little room. I understood he wanted a new level to our relationship. So I focused on his other obsession. My becoming a property investigator. I had just bought a used cargo van from a family friend and started doing courier work. He paid for my gas and helped me a lot. I promised I would eventually take on Properties, but I was just getting used to driving again. I hated IT! But I loved the freedom.
We would check in on the road and see if we were near each other. And one day we were. We had never met for lunch ( We have several times since). I sat in my van waiting for him to arrive. When I saw his Sedan pull in I smiled at him, he nodded coldly at me. I jumped out my vehicle and sauntered over to his. He got out very briskly and walked right past me. When we sat down I asked if he was having a bad day. "No, In fact i am having a very productive day." We ordered our lunches and ate them silently. He whipped out his Gold Am ex and paid the bill. Then shot a look at me. "You could have paid for this if you began doing like I said and added some properties to your daily runs." I smiled and said Thank You, for Lunch.
I began to slowly withdraw from our relationship. One early summer night we sat down for an impromptu dinner on the banks of the C&O Canal. It was a full moon and we were particularly chatty. He asked me what I wanted to do for our anniversary. I said Montreal. He looked at me very sternly and said he wasn't ready for international travel. I didn't consider him having children as a part of this decision. I believed he was more afraid of taking our relationship out of my room. I felt it and I said so. He admitted that beyond having never done such an extravagant thing with any of his past lovers, he thought the idea was silly.He suggested for me to pick a nice hotel and we would just fuck and order room service. I mentioned that was basically what we did already.I called him a week later and broke it off. I could hear his sadness. I could hear him acknowledge his inability to be free. He said he would still buy me that condo, if he found a foreclosure in my neighborhood. I went to Montreal anyways. By Myself.
,AINT THAT THE TRUTH!

This Aint HBO!

I have had an interesting romantic life. I have decided to share my stories of love and lust with the world. My failures and triumphs will hopefully pass the torch of romantic love to another SGL brother or sister. My first post in this series will deal with the present. I will try and cobble my wake to it through my forthcoming posts.
So I recently decided to stop being a wallflower and jump back in the game. A game, thats right there are objectives, rules, and winners. Therefore, there are losers. The great thing about it is you start a new game with every person that danes to join you. One of my first new game tactics was to post an ad on a dating site that made me more marketable. I had dealt with the more popular sites for Black men in search of other men ( for whatever interval of time they required). I often found that the list of suitors grew short fast.More often, they just weren't suitable game partners.
On this new site I was not an anomaly for my size and appearance but because of my sheer Blackness. It is interesting to note, that although my new site of choice is international, I rarely got a mention of my Blackness. Although, on the prior sites that were mostly aimed at Black American homos, I was constantly reminded of my Blackness (esp. my Darkness). It became so disenchanting. The complexion of a Black man to me is not a deterrent or an attraction! I have never understood the fascination. I look for bone structure, teeth, grooming, stuff that makes a person them not a category.
Anyways, I have been happily clicking and chatting meeting men from all over the world! I have a particularly strong following in Pacific Mexico. I have to note that I have always been fascinated with this region. I plan to have a house full of houseboys in Cabo some day!I, however, met my most consistent suitors in the Atlanta Metro area. I guess Internet dating be damned ppl still aren't romantic enough for an international fling.
I have always dreamed of having a romantic partner on the other side of the globe. Rendezvous in Marseilles and Amsterdam, planned twice a year or more if possible. I guess royalty really don't see love in the same way as sheeple!
Concurrently I have been trying to meet men the old fashioned way! In person! Its so much easier when you are affable and well mannered. My protocol coach when I was a child (aka Grandma) would always tell me "People are funny baby, just deal with them as much as you can. And say No thank you, when you have had enough" (RIP GMa)
I must say, I am very taken by a young man right now. He is tall, dark, and handsome. And he is very clear about his royal status. Mainly, he seems to hold the same tenet I have for possible suitors: Keep it Positive! We are always wishing each other the best and hoping for great things!It is the manifesting of positive energy that balances the negativity in our daily lives. Never choose a lover that takes more of you than they want to replace. Like Lauryn said " Who I got to be to get some Reciprocity" Up in this MuthafuckA! It is so far so good, Stay Tuned!
AIN'T THAT THE TRUTH!

ATL is the Armegeddon

I have been in ATL for over six months. This town is so many things... Old and historical, New and Shiny, Artsy and Non Conformist, and Stepford Wifeish. The games these people play are old ones covered in politically correct jargon. Needless to say the Prince had his armor tested.

I worked for the majority of my time here as a Host at an upscale casual sports themed restaurant. Hosting is a suitable position for royalty. Hospitality is the base of a proper kingdom. Atlanta is currently trying to change its image of Sodom and Gomorraha into a Babylon of sorts. Hospitality being the base of the economic engine of this Temple of Titans. They tower over the skyline like giant Cyclops.

The Cyclops is a greek mytholigical figure that were the builders of the weapons of the Gods. They were known for their skill and abruptness of emotion. Sounds like a Corporation to me. Well they live here! CNN, Coca Cola, and TBS are the Cyclops of our American Pantheon. If you doubt their skill and their abruptness of emotion as an entity look that up for yourself!

I digress. At this den of temperance in an otherwise prohibitionless town I greeted and escorted guests to their seats. My main job was to create the first impression of the establishment. The human interaction with an otherwise inhumane business that glasses bottled concoctions and serves roast beasts. Oh the trials of being a Who in Whoville with a weighty crown in my sack.

A few months ago we switched management. I knew I was in for trouble. However, my early education in survivalism, defenses against wizardry, and pro active communications, prepared me for the battles I knew were ahead. I must admit, these guys are good!

Needless to say.I will be keeping you abreast on my trevails as I pursue my first council with the federal anti-discriminatory legal world! EEOC here I come!