No Junito?!? No You Didn't!

Patrik-Ian,

Word on the street is Wilson Cruz will not be in the Noah's Arc follow up movie. Siiiiiiigh. Dammit!Why the F not! Maybe there was a schedule conflict? Maybe he turned down reprising the role? Maybe he hates the character? Maybe...oh, I just want Wilson. Merde. How could you do this to me Patrik-Ian? I mean, come on my brother! We share a name!

So hurt, so hurt, so sad...

Now I understand how some my friends felt about Aidan not being in the Sex and the City movie. But unlike Aidan, I liked Junito! And I absolutely adore Wilson Cruz. I'm way over Jensen Atwood. No offense, bruh is hot and all, but I'm so tired of him. Watch five minutes of Dante's Cove and you'll see my point. Ugh! Besides, I'm the mindset I want my actors playing gay, really to be gay. Watching Rockmond Dunbar in Dirty Laundry was frustrating. I was really pissed at him for being straight. Rockmond seemed so convincing. Argh! You wouldn't ask a white person to put on black face and pretend to be black would you??

I know, I know, I know... it's not the same issue. Just thank God Wilson's family. I do.

It's funny how things progress. When he starred in My So-Called Life, Wilson was an awkward, effeminate teen. Too delicate. He kinda creeped me out then. Now don't go yellin' at me, I have issues with my own masculinity at times, so I know it was pure projection.

I'm not sure why, but when Wilson resurfaced on Ally McBeal as a transvestite (cross-dresser? I never know which terminology is best to use) and the character was subsequently killed, my hot button surged. In fact, that episode is one of the few Ally McBeal shows I kept. This brother got real me sweaty.

Wilson's filled out rather nicely since playing Ricky Vasquez or Stephen/Stephanie. I miss Junito! I gushed like a little school girl whenever Wilson had a scene with Christian Vincent (Ricky). And his smile? You've seen that radiant smile. Does anyone have a sexier smile?

Wilson's got a whole lotta Latin spitfire goin' on! He's handsome as Hell. Almost said "cute" but that seems so damn childish. And Wilson seems a genuine and sincere actor. His role as Kelly in Coffee Date moved me to tears. Ugh, the unrequited love situation! Been there. Who hasn't?

Most encouraging is Wilson gives back to the LGBT/SGL community. I admire that. He donates himself to causes helping LGBT youth, particularly, youth of Persons of Color. Unlike other well-known "out" child actors, Wilson remembers his upbringing and knows how to give back.

I miss seeing Wilson on TV.(If I say it enough times, maybe my wish will come true?) Perhaps those bastards at Logo who made the decision to cut the series will bring Noah and company back, then I can get my fill.

I doubt it. If anything gay Hollywood is predominantly about white gays. Check on my recent post on top 100 men for 2008 if you think otherwise. How many brothers were on the list outta 100?

No, giving us the upcoming Noah's Arc movie was giving a dog a bone; to pacify us. Oh, just about every gay Black will spend their hard earned dollar to see this feature, so the "Powers-that-be" aren't stupid. I'm sorry if that offends anyone. That's just my personal opinion.

There. Didn't I tell you I'd still post little blurbs on pop culture and sexy guys? Besides, after yesterday's topic, didn't we need something lighthearted today?

"That's my story and I'm sticking to it"

-DT

Spiritual Self-Exposure

My decision to blog has perhaps been of the best decisions I've ever made. I got some wonderful responses to last night's post and I feel loved and embraced. Putting myself out there, being verbally naked, is risky, but I gain insight from your comments and feedback.

Additionally, as I venture out on the 'Net, I'm discovering more blogs written by Black men, who seem to share some of my own experiences. I don't feel alone so much anymore.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. If I didn't live in Hooterville, Pennsylvania, maybe I'd be able to connect more with other out gay/SGL Black men. You're right. But this corner of Central PA has become home. Moving to a large urban community is not in the cards. Sure, I love Baltimore and DC (the jury is out on my hometown. Too much craziness going on back in Philly) but I've expanded and have grown so much more, by leaps and bounds. I feel unique, not just another queer clone.)

A highlight I also want to mention is another blog I discovered by Toddy English. Many of his points are what I'm feelin' or have felt before. Check his blurb out and tell me what you think.

http://toddyenglish.wordpress.com/2008/06/10/45/

Come Undone

"The problem with pulling at the loose, untidy, threads of our past is, often we end up unraveling and destroying the tapestry of our soul."----Anonymous

Been contemplating my past lately. My post on Stefan touched upon other unresolved childhood trauma I keep sequestered in the back of my mind. Drama usually too painful to deal with. But as I indicated yesterday, I want to open up the closed rooms of my soul. Air myself out. Let light where darkness is, and become whole.

I'm placated by the past. Who I am, choices I made, avoidance and defense mechanisms, often leave me wanting. It's difficult to put the emotions into words. I'm still getting over shame, but residual embarrassment lingers. Torn and separated from the ones I loved, the community I struggle to have embrace me.

Sometimes the isolation is way too much to handle, like I'll never be accepted. My sexual orientation and my relationship to my family, my culture, and my faith, have faced schisms and challenges. I'm angry about it. Ashamed about it. I don't feel like I belong. Like I'm not black enough because I'm same gender-loving. Well, there's more to it than that, really.

I'll give you the back story in a moment. In my life I've been afraid of the scorn and judgment cast from the Black community. I've been called "boojee," arrogant, a sellout, a snob, a wanna-be, Oreo, blah blah blah...and it irritates me. Do you even know who I am? Know the struggles I've dealt with? Just because I don't fit the mold of what you think a Black man should be doesn't make me any less of one. Sadly though, some of my guilt comes from believing those very same things about myself. Some days I do feel like "imitation black man."

If you're an "out" gay, bisexual, same gender loving, or however you identify yourself, Black man or person of color, I applaud you. You've made a choice to be who you are regardless of what others might speak against you. Unfortunately, I'm not that courageous. My entirely life has been a role of subservience. It's been conditioned given the situations of abuse, but nevertheless, subservient. I'm not proud of it. I tend to do things to please others, to keep the eye of judgment away from me. I don't like being the center of attention, less scornful words come my way.

Being a queer, homo, yadda yadda yadda, has been not easy for me. Too many friends and family I know strongly believe being gay is a weakness and a sin. If you're Black and gay, well, you're not even a real man. These thoughts have been ingratiated since I was a child. A whole heap of issues stem from this negative message.

For a long time, I exiled myself from my culture, my God given heritage. The shame and the pain, the reluctance to deal with harsh words and judgment were too much. High school and College years were a bitch and a half. But I did, I suppose, what was necessary for survival. Why though? Why hate your community, and further, Black men, your straight brothers? Are you that self-loathing?

Not self-loathing. I've been scared. You'll understand.

I've never had any problems with Black women. Like their white counterparts, sistahs love a gay "husband" just as much. The Black women in my life have been mother figures, sister figures, best friends, who've kept me anchored. I'm thankful for them. The trouble in my life comes from trusting and feeling comfortable around straight men. Men of all walks of life bothered me, but brothers (both Black and Latino) have terrified me. It wasn't racist, but self-preservation. Again, you'll understand my point of view.

My adult life has resolved much youthful strife, but I'm a work in progress. I've been in therapy since the early 90s, particularly after my meltdown coming home from grad school. Today, I live my life and am healing. I can trust and feel comfortable in the presence of men, especially my brothers. But early on, "they" took something from me. Too much wasted time was spent being fearful.

Regular readers know I was sexually abused as a child. I've blogged about it previously. I'm not sure if I've ever spoken on who the perpetrators were. It's tough because one was my paternal grandfather. I don't discuss the situations too much. It cuts too close to home. The biggest shame, however, comes from the first time I was ever attacked.

I have two sisters. My younger sister "S" and I are close. The case is not the same with my older sister "P." I dance around the issue when people ask about her. "She's an evil bitch," is my usual response. We haven't talked in many years. I avoid her like the plague. All our burnt bridges stem from childhood, when her then boyfriend, now husband, Emilio and along with a group Black boys cornered me one day after school and forced me to sodomize them.

Translation: they jumped me and I had to suck their dicks. Plain and simple. To add insult to injury, "Sissy" knew about the incident, but denied it happened. That's reason why I have no contact with her. She married him, that mofo, knowing what Emilio did. She denies it and pretended it never happened. Bitch.

Feelin' me?

My rape happened when I was a little younger than Hester's son Robin's age. He's 10 now, so I was probably 8, 9 or 10 years old. I was used to the verbal abuse. Faggot, queer-bitch, fat faggot, Fat Albert, were all common derogatory remarks used in my presence. As I said, I got used to it. When the neighborhood punks attacked, I honestly don't think they gave it a second thought. It was just them "smellin their piss" as my mom would say. They got off on the power trip and my subjugation. I wasn't afraid of them up until that point. I could deal with the name calling, but forced to give head? Come on. I was no older than 8 or 9! This was the 70s. Children still had some innocence about the nature of sex. What did I know about blow jobs? I was just a little boy, dammit! Why would they do this to me? Further, why would the man, who supposedly loved me like family, loved my sister, do this to me?

Good question. If you got an answer, holla back at me.

My mother wasn't around as much as she shoulda been. She was a struggling, single parent, trying to make ends meet, so often in the afternoons she'd be at work. Remember my generation, Generation X, is the latch key kid generation. P and I are five years apart in age. It was deemed she was responsible enough to watch us until our aunt came over. Nanna Mae usually got there somewhere between 3-4, just in enough time to catch "her stories" One Life to Live and General Hospital.

(Surprisingly, I have no recollection where Stephan and Hawka were. I think they were still living with their dad in South Carolina. I honestly forget.)

Unharmed by incident, the doors to my sexual nature had been unlocked. Aside from being pushed around a bit, held down against my will, with some scrapes and cuts, I was alright. Emotionally I was a mess. I didn't cry over it, but was more than confused. I got home, feeling dirty, embarrassed, and ashamed, I told P what occurred and the BITCH DIDN'T BELIEVE ME. She denied it, couldn't possibly see how Emilio had any involvement in some faggoty bullshit like that.

That caused tension between us. Soon after my mother hired a babysitter, Laraya. She showed me her pussy one day after school and asked if I wanted to touch it. Feeling there would be something wrong with me because I really didn't want to, I did anyway. Laraya was the first girl I had sex with. Looking back, that event doesn't phase me as much, although it was just as much abusive as what Emilio et al did. I guess a part of me has bought into that was normal, for boys and girls to touch each other like that. I had no clue what I was doing, what the ramifications would be later. That's the gist of my first sexual experiences, both abusive.

Emilio attempted to apologize, but that situation got out of control. Another time cropped up where he tried to get me to suck him off again. By that time I learned to have a pair of balls and say "no." Our relationship has been terse ever since. My resentment towards my sister and bro-in-law has never gone away. I'm not certain it can.

With regards to the other neighborhood boys, I steered clear of them as best as I could. Cee Cee, Lee Lee, Larry, and Vernon were all persona non grata with me. I couldn't escape Emilio though. He was forever at my house dating my sister. They got married in 1983. Fortunately, they eloped, so there was no large wedding to attend. Thank God!

This whole time frame was horrendous. I began acting out and my grades slipped. Other sexual awakenings were dawning. Another smaller sexual encounter happened with a classmate, and I was just a monster from it all. My mother couldn't handle me. She tried family therapy, but I was so damaged. I'm not sure she knows what all exactly went on then. My family is good at keeping secrets.

The complexity of everything was severe. Tired and frustrated with attempting to cope with an out of control child, my mother gave up and away I was sent packin' down I-95 South to live with my daddy. More episodes of abuse, verbal, physical, and sexual, would occur there, but I managed to keep out of trouble and suck it all up.

Too, in DC, I ran into the same scorn from black boys. I became a favored target among the kids who lived in my grandmother's neighborhood. My dad lived in an affluent Georgetown neighborhood, but my Grammama lived in SE DC, in the Anacostia section, for a few years. Those were some rough street kids. She and Pop Pop eventually moved closer to Bolling Green Air Force Base, in SW DC right off of I-295, where Pop Pop was stationed. Life got a little better after they moved, but not by much. Military brats, and I was one for little bit, are nasty children and can be just as mean as street thugs. I got called faggot more often than not.

Through the years the reconciliation has been tedious at best. However, time does heal wounds. I can now embrace my fellow Black brothers and have learned forgiveness. Through the course of therapy, I had to take away negative projections based on the actions of a few rather than the whole. Not every black boy was mean to me. Not every Black man is going to hurt me. Still, as a child, adolescent, and young adult, I had to work through this fear and irrationality. A handful of ill-mannered children, do not represent the larger populous.

Today, I'm blessed with many good, solid relationships with black men. Ones where trust is freely given and accepted. There are times where I still get a little fearful and uncomfortable, but overall, my 30s have been a "welcome back to the fold." A Homecoming. I've gotten better. That's what's important. I never once, though, felt hated towards my race for what happened to me. Please don't mistake fear as hatred. I just was terribly, terribly afraid. I didn't have a strong support system to "toughen" me up. I didn't know other gay Black guys (my age) until my mid 20s. Had I had, maybe today would be a different story.

I have not, nor do I think I can ever forgive Emilio. My life changed significantly due to his actions. When he apologized, he told me he was just" going along with the boys." Um, excuse me dude? Weren't you like 13-14-15 years old? You were old enough to stand up to the peer pressure! Old enough to defend your future brother-in-law, your family. Instead, you dropped the ball and I'm left burned with horrible memories and experiences. It's no wonder why I struggled and denied my sexuality for so long. Incest, often romanticized by some gay men (regarding twins brothers) is not remotely attractive. It's sick, twisted, and perverted.

There more to be said, but I'm drained . Time to go to bed though and get a clearer head. I will finish up tomorrow. I've plenty more to say on this, but this post already has gotten waaaay longer than I anticipated.

-DT

I Gotcha Your Back!

Got an email from a reader questioning why there's been lack of men posts lately. Where are all the missing men?!?! Hmph. Missing? I didn't know anybody was missing.

No, seriously. There's gonna be changes to how I conduct myself on this blog. I dunno, I want the blog to seem more "mature." I am almost 40. Really, dontcha think I need stop actin' a fool? LOL.

I'd like to concentrate more on issues going on within. Last week's "Coming Out" post got me thinking. I've been in avoidance mode much of this year. I'm embarrassed at my immaturity and silliness. The Axe is going to transform to reflect my inner spirit. Time to raise the bar a little.

I'm not happy with the person I've become. Time to work through issues. If therapy has taught me anything, confronting our fears head on diminishes their power over us. By sharing with y'all, I hope to expose my irrational weakness, thereby, gaining strength and power over them. I need to reconcile my past before I can progress merrily with my future. Weilding The Axe is gonna to be my vehicle to get me there.

Huh? Yeah, uh-huh. Sure. Whatevah Ian. What about the hot men photographs? Mmm 'K?

Fret not! I'm not turning into some curmudgeon. Yes, I'll still have social commentary and observations on celebrities, television, books, music, movies, and what not. That's not gonna change. Hey, "sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't." Eye candy will also continue be exhibited, it just won't be the primary focus. Pictures added to posts are meant to emphasize mood and thought. If you, the reader, however, happen to have a beatification experience from the photographs, more power to you!

If you're looking for full frontal nudity though, that ain't gonna occur much. For searchers for the beauty of nekkid men, I suggest checking out Chocolate & Salsa. There's photographs aplenty, mostly nudes, of gorgeous men of color.

Lastly, please keep reading the Axe. Share your thoughts and leave comments. As we go on this venture together, I'd like to hear back from you. It's not a prerequisite to comment, but feedback, both positive and negative, help me to further clarify. You know, like am I deluding myself? Plus, comments let's me know people are reading.

As always, I appreciate your time.
-DT

Tagged

Found this tag list on David Dust's blog. Just adding my thoughts. Feel free to complete it yourself.

While you're at it, definitely check out David's blog. He has some very hot and handsome Latino men interspersed through out his blog. I had to dig through multiple posts, but was well rewarded. I'll post a few on Chocolate Salsa if you wanna peek at 'em.

Finding David's blog was a magnanimous treasure! I've neglected to watch most of Top Chef: Chicago this season and I was able to catch up with what's been going on by reading his blog. David gives excellent recaps. Season 4 seems particularly nasty! For whatever reason, I couldn't invested myself in this season's cheftestants. Oh well. There's always the reruns....

Not sure if the season finale has air yet or not, but Bravo usually will do a season episode marathon prior to the last episode. Now I just have to remember to catch 'em!

Tagged:
5 Things on Today’s “To Do” List:
1. Go to the grocery store
2. Watch my Netflix movies I've had over a month
3. Exercise
4. Clean the bathroom
5. Pay bills online

5 Things I’d do if I Was a Billionaire:
1. Travel
2. Start my own restaurant with Queenie
3. Buy a home at the beach
4. Take care of the friends and family who supported me when I couldn't support myself
5. Support programs aiding LGBT/SGL Persons of Color

5 Places I’ve Visited:
1. London, UK
2. San Juan, PR
3. St. Petersburg/Tampa/Clearwater, Fla USA
4. Toronto, Canada
5. The Dominican Republic

5 Places I’ve Lived:
1. Washington, DC.
2. Philadelphia
3. Lawrence, KS
4. Multiple Virginia towns (Alexandria, Falls Church, Richmond, Norfolk, et al)
5. Several Central PA towns (Lancaster, Lebanon, Harrisburg, Hershey)

5 Jobs I’ve Had:
1. State Government
2. County Government (Mobile Therapist)
3. Computer Consultant
4. Security Guard (college)
5. McDonald’s (high school)

50 Years of Prince

Wow! Brother hits the big 5-0 today! I don't know what weirder, Prince turning 50, or me admitting I've been a fan, literally, of his for 30 years!

I remember as a little boy having to sneak listening to his albums. Oh Prince was a nasty one back in the day. His albums Prince, For You, Dirty Mind, and Controversy, were all verboten in my mother's house! My father didn't much care what I listened to, but my mum wasn't havin' any of his "nasty mess" in her home! I was forced to give my cousin Hawka a poster accompanying one of his records because he was nude in the shower on it.

That was too much for my mum to handle, poor thing. Me? I guess the poster was disturbing to me then. Now? Well, it's probably still disturbing. Prince one person I never remotely contemplated nude even though he was scantily clad in the late 70s and early 80s.

Today, I still have all those albums in their LP format! Three of 'em are unopened. Collectors items maybe? Now if I can only score an autograph his Royalness, I doubt it though. Prince was always been a bit "off." I have to laugh! The Purple one has gone through his changes over the years. Despite that, no one can deny his authentic genius...

Thanks, Beastie!

You realize I only went to sleep about three hours ago? I'm tired as Hell, but I promised Hester I'd meet her for lunch this afternoon, so I set my alarm clock so I could get up on time.

My radio stations I listen to varies. Throughout the day, at least one of the three Cumulus Media stations or NPR is on my radio. Typically, I'll start off with WINK 104 for my WINK Watch News and Sue Campbell's Celebrity Gossip fix (yes I'm nerdy like that, but it's my ritual dammit!) then flip over to The Touch for Tom Joyner for the rest of the morning hours.

Groggily, this morning I woke up hearing the sports scores. Ignoring it, I rolled over, snoozed another moment, started dreaming about one the NBA players I'd like to bend over a desk. I won't mention his name, but I'll give you a hint. One of this team colors is also one of my fraternity's colors. Vague hint, somewhat, but not too difficult to figure out which team at least.

...ANYWAY, I'm babbling.

I was jolted awake moments later hearing local graduation commencements tonight and a "fake" flashback segment talking about the crazy fashion statements in the 90s, like pegging your jeans. HA! Had to laugh at that one. Hadn't thought about rolling the legs of pants in years!

Then John Beaston asked, "Does anybody remember British Knights? There was this blog..." Denny cut him off, as usual, so John didn't say specifically Weilding the Axe by name, but I'm positive he was gonna.

British Knights?!? How many blogs do you know out there blogging about British Knights??? Ha ha ha. So, you see? Somebody out there is reading this drivel. My blog caught Beastie's attention. Why? I haven't a clue, but I did mention the station by name. Whenever I see my name, either my real name or the Darktomahawk moniker on Google, I always have to check it out. Is that what he did? "Mebbeh," as the PA Dutchies say. Maybe that's why.

Regardless, thanks for the shout out John! I'm honored.

The Rear View Mirror

Inspired by both Greg's and Aaron's touching posts, I decided to join the fray, and throw in a part of my own "coming out' story. It's funny how Greg and Aaron's posts came in sync with thoughts going on in my head lately.

As you may or may not know, the 20th anniversary of my high school graduation is fast approaching. Hmph. It'll be just another day, I suppose. Yet ,with how life has been this year, I find myself reflecting on the things that have been, both the good and the bad. Don't worry. I haven't gotten maudlin over getting older. Sure, like the commercial says, "life comes at you fast," but the journeys I've been on had enriched my life. Positive or negative, for what they're worth, have made me the person blogging before you now.

The paths you take, no matter the distance you've traveled, some things, some people, will always be close at hand. Like you never left. I heard a song from 1988 on WINK 104 the other day and had to laugh. I remember when the song was playing in regular rotation 24/7. It brought back memories, things I've done, people I haven't seen in ages. People ike my cousin Stephan.

My Aunt Nanna Mae's oldest son, Stephan (pronounced "steff-on" Please. Never, EVER, call him "steeeven") was one of my best friends in high school. Two years older than me, we used to hang out together often and do those things high school students were known to do in the 80s, cut class, go to the Mall, smoke cigarettes or pot, drink beer, talk about stupid shit and our future. From time to time his sister, my cousin "Darktomahawka" would join us, and we'd be the invincible three!

Those two were integral to keeping me sane back in da day. Many an afternoon I'd forgo going home to visit Nanna Mae's to hang with them. Our fun, innocent by today's standards, was defiant and aggressive, if not risky. Our little community was close knit and just about everybody we knew in the area knew er'rybody or went to one of the seven Black churches in our section of town. So, somebody did have an eye out. You knew it wouldn't be long for somebody had dirt on you! We almost never got caught. The few times we did, we'd be on "punishment" for a few days, then start actin' up all over again! We never learned. LOL.

We were so stupid then, I sincerely have a grin on my face now thinking about it. We'd often skip school to head down to South Street or the shops on 69th Street. 69th Street had all the good deals on clothes then. We'd buy those ridiculous two-tone pants or the stupid suspender pants, which you never wore up around your shoulders. Or there were the Adidas or Kogol or British Knights apparel Steph and I would waste our money on! Damn.

Oh, how God blesses fools and the innocent. Drunk off our asses or high from all the marijuana smoked, we'd ride SEPTA, all loud and obnoxious, daring anyone to challenge our defiance. We'd go all over Philly and neighboring areas. It was probably the greatest, and most cherished, memories I have from that time in my life.

Most of this time period was during my sophomore and junior years in high school. I wasn't having the easiest of times either. The year before, I'd returned to Philly after living several years with my father in Washington, DC. I came back changed and scarred. The DC years proved to be the most challenging in my adolescence. The sexual abuse was at an all time high. I'd become introverted and had started gaining weight. Yet, I managed to get decent grades in school. This was a condition set by both my father and mother before it was even considered I could return to Philadelphia.

I was so drained. I was fighting emotions and feelings I didn't understand. I felt lost, hopeless, and defeated. I was tired of living the "boojee" lifestyle and felt set apart from the Black community. Attending private schools with stuck up snotty politician kids, I wanted in the worse way to get back to the people I understood, even if they wouldn't accept me. I just wanted to go home, back to the 'Hood. Sure, I knew it'd be tougher than my little affluent neighborhood in Georgetown, but I couldn't anticipate it being any worse either. I had needed a sense of community, like I belonged to a niche. I never felt that living in DC.

Waiting for me when I did move back were Stephan and 'Hawka. The three us were tight and I'd quickly developed an intense, special bond with Stephan. He was the brother I never had. Steph was one of the neighborhood guys you didn't mess with and who people respected. He was taller than I, built like a brick shit house, and embodied everything masculine and Black I wanted to be. Yet, he was nurturing and kind. He protected me, often coming to my defense when others would speak unkindly or call me faggot or queer bitch or spread ungodly rumors about me. When Steph was around, I felt safe. Secure. Comforted, like someone really did care about my well-being. He taught me how to defend myself and how not to put up with other people's bullshit.

During my senior high school years, Stephan was the balm I needed to heal. Between late elementary/junior high school and high school. I'd suffered greatly. My sexuality was stirring, even if I wasn't too keenly aware of it. I dated girls. Did the guy things boys were expected to do and I lived my life as I lived it until I left for college in fall of 1988.Thinking of Stephan reminds me how close we were. I honestly don't know where I'd be with him today, if not for him.

By the time I was a senior, I'd settled down, and was prepping myself for college. I did rather well in high school, except for math, which has never been my forte. (Don't think I was out smoking up joints all the time. N-Please! My mother, I'm sure knew it happened occasionally, but she woulda beat my ass into oblivion had it transpired more than what it had.) I graduated a hot and humid June evening in 1988. Two months later, I left for college with the sky as the limit.

Fast forward life six years. Summer 1994. I'd had just completed a disastrous first year in Graduate School. Life was falling apart all around me. I was heavily drinking, smoking pot, dropping acid, skipping classes, and having careless, unprotected sex. I did some harmful stuff back then. I was still having sex with women, but by this point, men had entered the equation. Oh Hell! Lots of men! I was fucking around with any guy I could get my grubby hands on. Guys, who I couldn't remember their face or name if my life depended on it. My friend DoJo had introduced me to gay life and I was living the LIFE to the hilt. It was bad. Really bad.

Unfortunately, I made too many unwise decisions. One of the guys I slept with, will be forever etched into my memory. Why? Simply for the fact because he was the boyfriend of a very good friend of mine, someone I betrayed very badly. To my credit though, said "man" was gay curious and sought me out on several occasions. I'm not making excuses or tryin' to justify it. Betrayal is betrayal nonetheless. I'd done my friend wrong. W-R-O-N-G!

The guilt was driving me insane and I became more and more reckless, either drunk, high, or both a significant amount of the time. What many people from my life then don't know, including Hester and EJ, is the extent of how dangerous things really were. I don't think anyone knows the whole story. Sure Hester and E.J. know the details about what they saw, but there's a back story I've been reluctant to discuss.

They both knew by this point I was out sleeping with guys, but what they don't know are the who, where, or how often. I don't talk about it. Neither of them, thankfully, has asked for specifics. We tend not to broach the subject. We're all cognizant of our destructive paths years ago. MTV's "The Real World" had nothing on us. The stories we all could tell...definitely would be a page out of a Bret Easton Ellis novel.We're all adults now. All that is just in the Rear View Mirror.

But back to then. One night, I couldn't take the guilt anymore and I confessed my sins to my friend. Call it the calm before the storm. All HELL broke loose a few days later. One weekend night I was engaging in the typical substance abuse, when the room literally turned on it's ear. Somehow, the all the drugs and alcohol I was doing caused an induced psychosis and I had a meltdown of the worst kind. It was frightening. I don't remember most of that night, just bits and pieces, but from what people tell me, it was the single most scary event we experience together.

I had to be hospitalized for three weeks in the psychiatric unit.

Now at the end of that venture, you might think I'd admit defeat and go home, right? Ppht! WRONG! Like any addict, I jumped right back into the lifestyle and continued my crash course to destruction! The insanity continued for a few more months before the denounment finally came. I don't remember what happened, but when the party was over, home to Philadelphia I went.

This period in my life was one where I truly walked in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. God does move in mysterious ways. Since I'm in confession mode tonight, I'll step up to the plate and also say this. It was also during early'94 my drug use escalated beyond pot and acid to cocaine. I'd started doing it with a mutual friend, whose name I WILL NOT MENTION. To complicate matters further, we were occasional sex partners. Had I continued to live in the apartment in grad school, who knows what the dire consequences could've been?

Back home, with my tail between my legs, I was left with this incredible, overwhelming, sense of guilt. I'd damaged more than a few valuable friendships. Some irreparably. Stephan had the wherewithal to sense something wasn't quite right, ferreted me out the house. I'd been miserable and holed up in the house for days. We ended up in Valley Forge National Park, a favorite place of ours to get hammered in high school.

Why he chose to take me there, I don't know. Maybe it was for the serenity of it. Valley Forge is very peaceful at night. Relaxing. We didn't drink or smoke any herb, just talked. My life was in shambles and I was feeling suicidal. I hadn't talked to my parents about my college escapades. To this day, they think it was because I got mixed up with some bad pot. Please. Try alcohol, pot, coke, and 3 other illegal narcotics....but I digress.

I finally ended up confessing to Stephan. I mean, I told him everything. EVERYTHING. Not just what had happened in college, but the sexual abuse that had been going on from age 6 to 14, my sexual confusion and eventual sexual fuckfest, to the drug and alcohol abuse. After I told him everything, he gave me that look that usually signified he was pissed off. I wasn't sure if my cousin was going to throw my ass out the car or kick my ass. I had just told my, very heterosexual, cousin I was sleeping with guys. How was he going to react? How was he going to deal with having a "punk" in the family? I was scared as shit. Oh God! What's he gonna tell his mom? For that matter, my mom?!? I was 24 and I hadn't a penny to my name. I couldn't afford to be out in the street!

Stephan was quiet for a loooong time with that look on his face. He looked so angry. I'll never forget it. Finally, and I remember these words almost exactly, he said something.

"I thought I taught you better than that." Huh? What? I asked him to repeat himself. Steph did.

"As said, I thought I taught you better 'an that!" I was confused, but I listened. He reached over, I still thought he was gonna haul off and hit me, but he grabbed me, kissed me on my forehead, and gave me the biggest, tightest hug, I've ever experienced. At this point, I broke down, and lost it. I mean lost it. I cried in his arms for about 20 minutes non-stop. Perhaps the most vulnerable moments in my life, it was the balm I needed.

Stephan explained then how he knew, before I knew or acknowledge it, I was queer. And you know what? He was cool with it! I was his family and he loved me. That's what he meant by his question. We were tight. We were boys. Nothing should ever come between you and your boys, right? He loved me. He promised not to mention a word to anyone or my folks. He kept his promise. I wish I had been able to walk out of the closet once and for all that night, but I got back in not longer afterwards.

A few months later, I got my first professional job and moved away. Stephan was a blessing in my life when I really needed someone to depend upon. I still haven't told my folks yet, but I hope the moment will be as tender as it was when I told Stephan. I doubt it will be given how religious my family can be. I'm not exactly sure on their position on homosexuality, but it can't be good.

For those of you who don't know, my father was also bisexual (no he the one wasn't molesting me) and my mother had a tough time accepting her husband was queer. Can you imagine her grief when she learns her only son is too? To add insult to injury, imagine the pain she's gonna feel when she also learns my 22 year old nephew is gay! Eek! Let's hope the both of us don't come out the same day, week, or month!!!!

Sadly, my cousin died a few years back in a car accident. He was a year younger than I am today. I miss him terribly, but I know somewhere, he has definitely earned his place in Heaven. He was definitely the lynch pin that got me through the 90s. While he's in the rear view mirror of my life, I'd like to think of him as riding along in the passenger seat those days I'm alone and by myself.

Anyway, thanks for reading this long ass post!

3.5 Out Of 100? Where's The Rest???

This could alternatively be given a "WTF" title. Seriously. What the F*ck?????

I was getting ready for bed, but decided to browse one the message boards I frequent regularly, since I hadn't been there in awhile. One post caught my eye in particular. Someone had plucked from the AfterElton website a list of the Top 100 Men for 2008. Curious, I checked it out.

Mistake No. 3, my friend, big mistake!

Out of 100 men listed, there were only 3.5 men of color. (I gave the African American community and White community "half" of Wentworth Miller since he acknowledges his Multiracial background but "passes" himself). I should correct myself too, because in a technical sense, there were more men of color. However, they were all Latino men who are also passing, so I didn't include them. There were, I might add, no men listed of Native American or Asian descent. None. Correct me if I'm wrong. There were one or two names I didn't recognize.

It shouldn't surprise me. Not in the least. I guess I put more faith in American Pop Culture Powers-That-Be than I should have. I disagree with more than half the list! I'll sit down this week and come up with my own Top 100, and unlike AfterElton, I won't be biased, but you better believe there'll be more than 3.5 brothers listed. For that matter, they'll be more than 75 Men of Color, so yes, maybe it WILL be biased! Goddammit! AfterElton certainly was...

For anyone interested, I copied the list and pasted it below. Just so people don't think I'm a racist, and I'm not, but I'm proud of all my heritages. June maybe about Gay Pride, but African American/African Descent Pride is 3-6-5!

AfterElton's Top 100 Men Of 2008-Did I miss anybody of color?

• 100. Jared Leto
• 99. James Franco
• 98. Hayden Christensen
• 97. Ben Browder
• 96. Adam Barta
• 95. Thomas Roberts
• 94. Russell Tovey
• 93. Peter Paige
• 92. Matthew McConaughey
• 91. Jake Shears
• 90. Christopher Gorman
• 89. Robert Downey Jr.
• 88. Justin Hartley
• 87. Jude Law
• 86. John Krasinski
• 85. Rufus Wainwright
• 84. Ricky Martin
• 83. Nicolas Gob
• 82. Henry Cavill
• 81. Adam Levine
• 80. Tom Ford
• 79. Shia LeBeouf
• 78. Jason Statham
• 77. Mitch Hewer
• 76. James Sutton
• 75. Dave Annable
• 74. Joseph Gordon-Levitt
• 73. J.P. Calderon
• 72. Darryl Stephens
• 71. Clive Owen
• 70. Cristiano Ronaldo (Is Spanish. A different "ethnicity" in Europe, not race.)
  
• 69. Ronnie Kroell
• 68. Josh Duhamel
• 67. Eric Mabius
• 66. Paul Rudd
• 65. Orlando Bloom
• 64. Lee Pace
• 63. Eric Bana
• 62. Ian Somerhalder
• 61. Ashton Kutcher
• 60. Jensen Atwood
• 59. Josh Holloway
• 58. Eddie Cibrian
• 57. Colin Farrell
• 56. Chad Allen
• 55. Patrick Dempsey
• 54. Ewan McGregor
• 53. Paul Walker
• 52. Gael Garcia Bernal
• 51. Taye Diggs
• 50. Eric Dane
• 49. Matt Damon
• 48. Chris Meloni
• 47. George Clooney
• 46. Matthew Fox
• 45. James McAvoy
• 44. Declan Bennett
• 43. Jared Padalecki
• 42. David Boreanaz
• 41. Gerard Butler
• 40. Johnny Depp
• 39. Ryan Gosling
• 38. Milo Ventimiglia
• 37. Mario Lopez
• 36. Jonathan Rhys Meyers
• 35. Jamie Barber
• 34. Heath Ledger
• 33. David Tennant
• 32. Randy Harrison
• 31. Tom Welling
• 30. James Marsden
• 29. Jo Weil
• 28. Hugh Jackman
• 27. Channing Tatum
• 26. Christian Bale
• 25. Justin Timberlake
• 24. Zac Efron
• 23. Robert Gant
• 22. Matthew Rhys
• 21. Ryan Phillippe
• 20. Jake Silbermann
• 19. Chace Crawford
• 18. Wentworth Miller (1/2)
  
• 17. Thore Scholermann
• 16. Daniel Craig
• 15. Brad Pitt
• 14. T.R. Knight
• 13. Jensen Ackles
• 12. David Beckham
• 11. Gareth David-Lloyd
• 10. Ryan Reynolds
• 09. Anderson Cooper
• 08. Chris Evans
• 07. Van Hansis
• 06. Gale Harold
• 05. Neil Patrick Harris
• 04. Cheyenne Jackson
• 03. Luke McFarlane
• 02. John Barrowman
• #1. Jake Gyllenhaal
  

2,156

Glued to my television last night, text messaging as many friends as I could, I watched Obama achieve his goal of being the presumptive 2008 Democratic Presidential Nominee.

I'm grateful the Democratic Primary Season is, at long last, over. Depending who you ask, this political contest has either inspired more young people to get involved in politics or caused division within the Democratic party. As I said, I'm glad it's over. Or is it?

Watching Clinton's speech, she was defiant, as every political analyst from CNN to MSNBC pointed out, yet, I expected no less of Senator Clinton.

As this campaign proved to me, true to what's been said before, the Clintons will do anything, say anything, to accomplish their goals. (I won't touch Bill's potential damage to the Democratic Party's cause with his remarks against the Vanity Fair columnist, only state I feel President Clinton was well within his right to speak his frustration). Her refusal to give Obama credit where due was annoying. I mean, come on, he's the first African American Nominated Presidential Candidate in history. Instead, she made the speech all about her.

What's Clinton's motive? According to analysts, since she lost the Presidential nod, Hillary wants to be Barack's Vice President. Well, duh! I saw that months ago. She's not going to let go of this easily. Still, she should have spoken about Obama with kind words, praise, and congratulatory grace, even if she refused to concede.

Instead, she was just a typical Clinton politician. I suspect Hillary maybe up to something. I'm surprised no one has suggested she may run on an Independent campaign. Turncoat Joe Liebermann did and won his seat on Capitol Hill. So, anything is possible at this point. Remember a person backed into a corner is often at their best.

Not sure if it was Andy Cooper or Keith Olbermann who questioned why Barack didn't highlight his historical feat. Seems rather obvious to me, no? With all the talk that Obama can't connect with white working middle class and women, any recognition as the first African American chosen Presidential nominee, of either party, might have given people more reason not to like the Senator.

One of my own friends included in this demographic, a strong Clinton supporter, feels Obama is arrogant and vows to vote for McCain come November. My brother-in-law, who is Puerto Rican, has also said as much. Barack will have his work bringing women and the Hispanic community over, like Clarissa and Emilio, but it can be done.

Does Barack need Hillary as his running mate to bring people around? I'm not sure. I agree with CNN analyst and Super Delegate Donna Brazile (please declare your allegiance) Senator Obama shouldn't be pressured into choosing her.

Oh. One more thing. Did anyone notice how John McCain eerily resembled the creepy preacher from the Poltergeist movies, who ironically, was named Cain? When he smiled during his speech, I kept thinking of the character yelling at Craig T. Nelson "You're gonna die in there!"

Too spooky. No disrespect intended to Senator McCain. I half toyed with the notion of voting for him had Obama lost to Clinton. So don't take umbrage at my comment.

Is this funny?

I thought this was funny ..., originally uploaded by daniel1010us.

I was browsing through Flickr this afternoon and came across this little piece of "humor." I'm not sure if I want to laugh or be offended. I'm only posting this here for the next 24 hours to see what people think about this.

The picture stated is not my belief nor do I agree with it's assessment, I'm only curious as to do people find this humorous or simply offensive. I'm a little of both.

You?.

Sex And The City

So the day finally arrived! The US premiere of Sex And The City is today!

Hester and I are going to an early matinee this afternoon because we don't want anyone spoiling the plot. It's bad enough I know one thing that occurs in the movie already (I promise I won't give any details).

I won't blog on the movie until a few days so folks have time to see the film. My only hope is it doesn't tank like Speed Racer did. Television shows often have difficulty making the translation from the small screen to the big one. But I'm sure we'll all be glad to see the women we all came to love, and their partners in crime, Big (John), Steve, Smith, and Harry. Plus, let's not forget, Ms. Jennifer Hudson will be featured as Samantha's assistant! Oh yeah! Love J-Hud!

Please let Jennifer have a significant part in the feature and not only on-screen for three seconds. SATC needed a black woman character on the show. The only woman of color that stands out was Sonya Braga, Samantha's brief lesbian lover, Maria. Other than her, nada. Come on Jennifer! Show 'em what ya got!

Wish there was a way Blair Underwood could make a cameo appearance. I've always thought this man was drop dead gorgeous! He was smokin' the season he played Miranda's boyfriend. Miranda is my least favorite character, but when she was dating Blair's, I liked her a little more. Yeah, I know Cynthia Nixon is family, but she turns me off. Miranda is too plain and I've always said she needed to pull the pole out her ass and loosen up.

Overall, this will be one of several highlights of the summer. The next one I suppose will be whenever Noah's Arc makes it debut.

Until then, have a Cosmo before the film, and smile!

Manny Ramirez

Happy 36th Birthday to Boston Red Sox player Manny Ramirez!

"To Have And To Hold..."

Yesterday's wedding for my college buddy Jesse and his partner, now husband, Sonnen was definitely one of life's tender moments. I was blessed and touched by their union.

Now, for those of you who don't know by now, I'm a very sentimental, sensitive person. The wedding moved me. It was my first "gay" wedding. What a great way to kick off Pride Season, dontchathink?

The only downer to the day was we did waaaay too much driving! My friend Darren swung by for me around 7:45 AM since I'm still not supposed to drive. Leaving my house, we drove an hour southeast to pick up our friend Nora. Once we got her, it was another hour drive to meet up at J's mother's house. Jesse and Sonnen already live together, but in traditional wedding style, it's considered bad luck for the "Bride" and Groom to see each other before the ceremony. Jesse decided to stay with his mom here in PA until the big day.

At Janeen's (Jeese's mom), we took pre-wedding photos and got last minute instructions on how to get to Delaware from there. Back into Darren's tiny ass Saturn, I was cramped for an hour and a half till we reached Wilmington. We met up with even more friends and family, then finally departed for New Jersey where the union joining ceremony was being held.

Whew! As I said. Waaaaaay too much driving!

The ceremony was tasteful. Each groom had one attendant and the union was officiated by the local township's mayor. No fancy frills, just a simple declaration of love, exchanging of vows, and rings. Sonnen broke down with tears as he and J exchanged rings. It was moving. Somehow, my friend Jenisha and I were volunteered as the wedding photographers. The township's Mayor, I might add, was sexy and very distinguished. Found myself staring him down half way through the ceremony. I took about 20 photos of him alone.

Once Jesse and Sonnen were officially joined, we took more photos, then departed back to Wilmington. Everyone decided though, we should stop for gas in Jersey, since it was cheaper than Delaware or Pennsylvania. Gas here (PA), is about $3.89-$3.95/gallon depending where you're at. Some places in Delaware it was already at $4.00/gallon. New Jersey's prices are around $3.79/gallon. My only beef with Jersey is you can't pump your own gas. I told Darren I'm glad I didn't drive because I completely forgot you have to let the gas attendant pump your car. How asinine!

At the reception, lemme tell you, somebody's mama put her foot in that spread cause I ate three plates (yeah I was pig!). Service was casual and buffet style. Again, simple, yet tasteful. The meal consisted of fired chicken, seafood, mac and cheese, baked beans, greens, potato salad, cole slaw, cold cuts, homemade rolls, cheeses, fresh fruit, and all kinda desserts...you name it.

You might think that's not classy enough for a nuptial event, but it was right up my alley. I'm tired of bourgeois ("bojee") weddings! Both Sonnen's and Jesse's family were laid back and inviting. Jesse's family made all of us feel welcome. Both of the happy couple's mothers and grandparents were there, as well as a host of extended family. I was impressed. The family support was outstanding! It made me have hope my own family might someday come around to accepting me if I decide to get married (to a man this time) again .

We stayed a long time. I caught up with buddies I hadn't seen in a dog's age, waxed philosophic, argued over politics and religion (which what we always did back in college, things never change do they?), danced, laughed, drank, smoked, and carried on for hours. It was like old times. I needed that. Been too down on myself for things outta my control lately. Yesterday took the pain away long enough to realize life should be a journey towards happiness and good times.

When it was time to go home, I didn't wanna leave, but there was that 3-4 hour drive back. We all hugged, kissed, and promised to stay in touch more. And yes, you know I brought a plate of food home with me! LOL. I ain't too proud! No, seriously, they were giving food away. There was so much. I had a terrific time and now am looking forward to summer, instead of dreading it.

Finally, shortly before midnight, I got home. This man was dead-ass tired, barely coherent enough to drop my things, and fell immediately into bed. I was exhausted, but truly enriched by the experience.

As Prince once sang, "Life can be so nice.."

The Politics Test

You are a Social Liberal (71% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (21% permissive) You are best described as a: Strong Democrat Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also : The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Sleepy? Yup!

I'm surprised I'm awake this early this morning, so this is going to be a quick post before I head back to bed. Had an interesting day yesterday and I'm exhausted. Was gone for 16 hours, but the time was well spent since I attended a wedding for a good friend and his partner. I'll give details later.

Life is good, but as I begin this new path, the post employment one, I'm concerned about more than a few issues. And as always, I have the Devil whisperin' bullshit in my ear tryin' to lead me astray. Go 'way Devil! Really don't have time for doubt, insecurity, or inadequacy. I gotta job that needs to be done with myself, and I intend to do it!

Peeked at both Darian's site and Whozhe's site this morning. The posts there made me feel a little inspired and better about myself. I'll blog about my shit later (more of the same old same old). For now, I'm gonna try catchin' a coupla more Zzzz. Or if I can't sleep, watch the College Hill: Atlanta season finale on Comcast On Demand since I missed it Tuesday.

Worthy

Never, ever, sacrifice your self-respect and self-worth for someone who doesn't deserve it. I used to laugh at the expression "Casting your pearls before swine," but as I get older, it's a value that simply makes sense. Sure, there is a measure of self-sacrifice towards others, but when one party is not reciprocating, say in a relationship, and it's just take take take on their part... Aw hell no, we got a problem Houston!

Remember you are the most important person to yourself. Don't sell yourself short. Keep your head held high. Stand firm in your convictions. Never settle for someone who won't treat you as you deserve. If he can't step with you in line, together, then he just needs to step. Period.

Don't be bogged down to anyone else's melodrama or shenanigans. Be true to yourself. Always. Even if that means you have to walk alone for a period of time. The Universe, the Creator, God...has a plan and a purpose for you. For me. For us all. When you're being disrespected, treated unfairly, maligned, hated upon, just remember you are WORTH better. You ARE somebody special. He (or she) might not love you, but there is someone out there who will, who does.....

Everything good comes to us when it is meant to be and not before.

Gay? What Of It?

The blog has become a bit of sleazy and immature lately, I admit it. Why? Simply put, I haven't felt like being a grown up these past few months nor deal with adult issues. Well, that's about to change.

I've been doing some self-inspection and I've some house cleaning to do. Fear, shame, and embarrassment have caused me to lapse into some 38-year-old adolescent and its annoying the crap out of me. Yeah, one too many birthday post to celebrities. I'm getting back to the basics and write about issues going on within the mind. This will be a personal challenge because resolving issues from youth is quintessential to moving to the next level.

More this week as I tap into my grey matter....

Checked out a few blogs this morning. I added a few more to the Blog Roll. One of my new faves is Living Out Loud With Darian. He seems to put into words, more eloquently, all the commentary I wish I could blog about properly. His is a superb blog.

On Darian's blog I saw a post that BET has a new website addressing the Black Gay community. I had to laugh at his thoughts on the "Suspect Your Man's Gay?" questionnaire. Except for two things, I must not be gay. Yes, I have the shifty eyes. Yes, I have strange men on my MySpace page. The remaining eight questions (the last asks if you've talked things over), is soooo not me.

I get ready in 20 minutes (only because it take 15 to motivate my butt to get ready), I detest the Oprah Winfrey Show nor am I enamored by her (I've strong opinions about Oprah most people would disagree with). I'm not one to give exceeding fashion compliments. And I hate glamor shows, like Beauty Pageants, with a passion! Ugh! Hate is not a strong enough word. For that matter I hate any award shows. I've never been into the Golden Globes, Oscar's, Emmy's, American Music, MTV Music & Video, or BET Music Awards. I can't stand 'em! I'd rather have bamboo shoved under my finger nails or give myself a paper cut than be force to watch shit like that.

Like Darian, I agree BET's little questionnaire is a tad bogus. However, they are attempting shore up a connection to the Black SGL/LGBT community, with is to be commended. BET is at least making an effort. It will do some good in the long run.

As for other matters going on, well, there is much internal angst, strife, and loneliness. Not the depressing loneliness, but the separation loneliness one feels when you feel excluded. I'm, still, searching for my niche in this world and I don't think I've found my groove yet. At 38, I never anticipated my life would be so unsettled as it seemingly appears now; when I was in my teens and 20s the sky was the limit. Today, every turn seems like a greater hurdle to cross.

I've too many regrets, too many shames. Too many unwise decisions made in youth. Bad decisions that continue to placate personal enrichment. Yet, I continue to persevere. Giving up is not an option. I may get depressed, down, lonely, and low. Sure I might not be the most poplar guy on the block. And yes, people are definitely hatin' on me, but I'm not out for the count. This year has proven better days are a'comin. Sometimes you just have to wait for them though. I'm reminded of Shirley Caeser's "You're Next In Line For A Miracle" whenever I feel worn out. Lately, I've given that track repeated play after play on my CD player and iPod...