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!

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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!