Meet My Virtual Friend Maureen Walsh

I'd like you to meet my virtual friend Maureen Walsh.  She lives in Walla Walla, Washington.  The delicious, sweet onion place.  Known for their increasing wine country as well.  I say "virtual" friend because we've never met.  But by golly, we've been awfully awfully close.  Last night for example.

We had finished a 14-day of training new flight attendants at our Flight Operations and Training Center near the SeaTac Airport and were back at the airport for our flight to Portland.  We had an extra hour so headed to the Pacific Marketplace for some delicious pasta.  Sat down.  Enjoying. And I'm staring across the table and right over to the neighboring table.  At this woman.  I knew her.  I just knew I did.  I stared and stared at her.  I think she knew it.  Man, for the life of me, I couldn't figure out where.  But more than even knowing her, I knew some story about her.  Something personal.....something about her family, crying or a heartfelt story of some sort.  But I couldn't place her.  A passenger of mine?  Neighbor?  TV personality?  Gosh.  I just kept staring and even followed behind her as she headed toward the gate areas.  It really bothered me until about halfway home, inflight.  THAT'S IT!

Maureen Walsh is a Republican congresswoman from Walla Walla, Washington.  About three hours drive to the east of us.  And I knew her story because I'd heard her story.  Recently.  A few weeks ago.  And you'll hear her story below.  She is one of those folks that I admire.  She is well deserving of honor and recognition.  For her ability to come to beautiful conclusions in her life.  For looking out for the equal rights of others.

So, I've never meet Maureen Walsh from Walla Walla, Washington.  But gosh, I was damned close.  Really, really close in fact.  I'm disappointed that I didn't take the step to walk six feet over to her and say hi.  I really would like to have given her a big old hug and thanked her.  For her life.  Her dedication.  And love.  Oh, and her inspiration too.  And her dedication to people over the task. 

A Reminder to Myself -- It Gets Better

I think that this whole It Gets Better campaign as of late has been as much for me, personally, as for those struggling teenagers. My life is not where I want it to be. It feels quite out of sync right now. And every time I see one of these It Gets Better videos, I am reminded not only of my childhood but of my current, today, state of being. I think we all need reminders. No matter our age. It Gets Better.

On October 18, 2010, members of Dallas' Turtle Creek Chorale joined singers from over 30 area religious institutions and students from Southern Methodist University in a performance titled, A Night For Peace.

WIth just three rehearsals to prepare, the 300+ "Partners In Harmony" massed chorus offered a full-length concert, which concluded with Bach's DONA NOBIS PACEM (Grant Us Peace) from his Mass in B Minor.

All stories are real. Featured speakers are current members of the Turtle Creek Chorale.

Conducted by Dr. Jonathan Palant
Filmed and Edited by Israel Luna

Morton H. Meyerson Symphony Center, Dallas, Texas

For more information visit:
www.turtlecreek.org/itgetsbetter

Obama

Well well now, my hands have been gently slapped. In a nice sort of way. One of my readers has brought to my attention that I have not really expressed my viewpoints on President Obama since that big, old giant Inaugural Party that we hosted way back when. You remember, don't you? When we just knew he was going to be the end all, be all, for we who are less than citizens.

I am fully aware that politics will play out as they usually do -- in the media.....and that all depends on which news channel you watch and which newspapers you read. What is said and done today doesn't really matter. It's all how it plays out in the months, and years, to come that matter. Long term versus short term. The big picture. Having said that, I have been more than happy to have President Obama in the driver's seat whilst compared to the lunatic that we had before (haven't heard a word from Bush, have you??).

I must admit that my feeling about our nation, and world for that matter, in general is waning. Something is not right....we're off kilter. And it's a far larger issue than our President. But, admittedly, I have been left with a less-than-pretty feeling about what has happened, or not happened, in our country since he has taken office. I am adult enough to recognize that any President is dependent upon the House, Senate, governors, Supreme Court, and other local entities to make it all work out. He is not singularly in charge of meeting each of our whims. And that's where many of us take him to task. We want more! We want it differently! We want this and that. Hell, who doesn't!

I am more than happy that he has appointed two females to the Supreme Court. I am happy that his administration has hired more gays and lesbians than the Bush and Clinton White Houses put together. He has made the environment a larger focus than before, he has shifted the war from Iraq back to Afghanistan where it began, he has closed torture-camp Guantanamo Bay, he has at least tried to get the health care monster headed in the right direction, he and the First Lady have both made education a huge priority, and he has taken away the unilateral, by god and by gum, sort of attitude that Bush ran his regime with, and he has added sexual orientation to hate crimes legislation as it should be. I'm pretty pleased with that. We certainly didn't have it before. And we certainly wouldn't have much of it with, oh say, a President McCain.

I do wish for more. But I do not wish for more at the possibility of it being taken back away in the future by the Supreme Court or by the next Presidential administration. I want it done right, legally, formally, set in stone. Don't Ask Don't Tell is a biggie. Huge. And definitely needs to happen. And there are days that I wish that Obama would grow a big old giant pair of black balls and wrestle that DADT deal to the ground. But I doubt that will happen. But I do not want it to happen in the wrong way, or with the possibility of creating additional adverse conditions for those GLBT service members already serving. You do realize that it's not going to be all yummy smelling roses....right??? And, remember, it was a Democrat who signed it into office thinking that it was the best way for it to accomplish an overtly touchy subject.

And I do wish that we gays could marry. Who doesn't?! But we can't. We live in a country of hate and old-school, Dark Ages, sort of mentality. We live in a country divided. It's time that we face that. It's time that we recognize the fact that we gays often live in a bubble. A pretty glass bubble. I live in Portland, Oregon, where gays and lesbians pretty much have the run of the mill. We are open, live freely, and are able to walk the majority of our city with freedom and safety. But I also live here knowing that if I venture more than 20 miles past our city borders, I'm in trouble. In general, the nation I live in doesn't like me. I know that. And yet, I'm still here. I'm still an American. I'm still a fag. It's not always going to go my way. It takes a big person to come to grips with that. I wasn't born in one of the many intelligent, fair countries currently giving marriage benefits to gays. But it doesn't preclude us from continuing to hope, and work toward, more. But I honestly don't think we'll ever be a nation like many of those in Europe. I'm a realist. I know that in my life, I probably will never be able to be recognized on a Federal level as far as many rights go. That's the harsh reality of living here.

So, yeah, I'm glad that President Obama is our President. I simply cannot imagine having Vice President Sarah Palin and President McCain at our helm. More? Oh yeah, I want it. Happy? Pretty much but not completely. Sounds like most of life, doesn't it?

It Gets Better

I love this energy, spirit and drive. I love the smiles. The free-for-all attitude and how much fun they look like they're having. I needed to hear this today. I imagine that many of us do.

Teri or Terri

Teri. Or was it Terri? I just can't quite remember. Teresa was her full name but she went by Teri. She was 18, I was 15.....which puts this story at about 1977 or so. And it puts me at illegal. In Boise, Idaho, while Teri and I were both attending Boise Valley Christian Communion....a big church of more than 1,000 that met in a warehouse on the banks of the Boise River. It was filled with the spirit, the church was. Teri was my girlfriend. Well, more of a friend who was a girl than an actual, per se, girlfriend. She scared me too much. Actually all girls scared me too much, now that I think about it. Teri and I were in the youth group together despite the fact that she was a high school senior and graduating already. She had a full-time job and a real, honest to goodness Fiat that was her very own to drive around town. She delivered Meals on Wheels each afternoon to shut-in seniors who needed food. She wore these big old giant glasses that seemed to cover half of her face...the lenses tinted in a lovely shade of purple, blue, or periwinkle. She lived with her mother who also went to our church in a single-wide trailer. Oh, I know I'm supposed to say "Mobile Home" or "Manufactured Home" or something else like that. But, honestly, in the 1970's in Idaho they were trailers. Alright? Seriously.

Teri was the first chick that I, um....ahem.....** clears throat loudly ** .....well, you fill in the blanks here. I'm just too embarrassed to say. She was the one. In the afternoons while her mother was at work. In Teri's big waterbed. In The Trailer! In the Trailer Park! Oh god, this doesn't sound good, does it? It wasn't. You see, Teri was, shall we say, aggressive. Forceful. Demanding. Of me. Remember, she was the first (and practically the only, quite frankly). I swear to god, that girl made me do things I wasn't not prepared to do. Forced my head here and there. Told me out loud and naughtily what to do, how to do it, and how not to do it. She scared the living hell out of me. And we're not talking about normal, run-of-the-mill things here. Some. But some not. I still lay awake nights sweating thinking of her telling me to do it this way or that way. Perhaps I should have been a bit more educated after sneaking peeks at The Joy of Sex while I babysat over at my cousin's house -- but I just wasn't. And so this went on. In the trailer, in the afternoons. And if that didn't work, she'd drive me around behind some school house after dark to perform The Act.

At, or near, the time Teri was graduating from high school, she decided to go into the military. The Army. And also along about that time, she called me one day and asked me to come over to The Trailer for the afternoon. Unable to say no, I drove my 1970 Plymouth Gold Duster with its black plastic seats over. I jumped out of the car and headed up the sidewalk toward her front door. The door was open, the glass screen was pulled shut, so that I could see right straight into the house....to the couch (or "Davenport" as we called it growing up for some reason) on the far wall where Teri was sitting. In her purple glasses. And with her arm draped around the manly shoulders of another woman. "I'm in love with this woman. She is my girlfriend," she tells me. "And I'm going into the Army," she continued. Oy vey.

Teri went into the Army. She ended up at Fort Riley, Kansas, for some time. And she went on to marry a man. A black man. I think they had babies. And I don't know another damned thing except for that. Well, that, plus the fact that her mom tried to get me into Amway shortly after that. I wonder where those purple glasses are now? And that damned water bed.

Portland Lesbian & Gay Film Festival

This week is one of my favorite weeks here in Portland. It is the different, the odd, the unusual that not only makes me like Portland but, in particular, like this week. It is the Portland Lesbian and Gay Film Festival and it runs over the course of a week including the weekends on both ends. You'd think that in a week's time we could actually get to quite a few flicks....but not so. Last night was almost our only chance to see two of them.

We Have to Stop Now -- Is a romantic dramedy that follows two lesbian therapists as they struggle to keep up the pretense of staying together when a documentary film crew invades their home after the success of their book “How To Succeed In Marriage Without Even Trying.” Lesbian therapists Kit and Dyna have it all: they’re a power couple, they each have a thriving practice, and they've published a best-selling book. But Kit and Dyna also have a problem: right before the book came out, their relationship started falling apart. Naturally, they don’t want anyone to know. They are secretly in couples counseling, and so far, it’s not going well. And life is about to get a lot more complicated: Kit’s flaky sister has parked herself on their couch for the indefinite future, and a film crew has arrived to document their “perfect” marriage.

We joined the throngs of Subaru-driving, smart and sensible-shoe wearing Portland lesbians for this film (you knew that Portland hosts one of the world's largest lesbian populations.....right???). I felt like we were an oddity in this group. It was a sort of funny film but not super great. Nice to see because it was a part of the Festival and all, and something out of the ordinary, but I wouldn't see it again. The second film was great:

The Sisters -- Since their inception in 1979 to combat HIV and AIDS, the infamous Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence have established missions all over the world, ministering to the masses with glitter, wit and charity. As German filmmakers explore the Sisterhood in Berlin, Montevideo in Uruguay and San Francisco, we find out that Sisters everywhere hand out happiness, along with a healthy dose of tongue-lashing. For anyone who has ever wondered why the Sisters wear white faces (or faces at all), this documentary lifts the veil for an inside look at the organization committed to safer sex, LGBT rights and performance art. As one original Sister says, “We’re not really anti-Catholic at all. We’re just anti-guilt, anti-hate, anti-negativity.” This exuberant documentary lives up to that commitment, sparkles and all.

And would you believe that Portland's very own Sisters were there with us! We had a great time. And there's a chance that we may be able to see The Secret Diaries of Anne Lister later this week.

Hateful Revisited

On today's Oprah Show, she returned to Williamson, West Virginia...a town where she did a local show 23 years ago, in 1987. One of the town's local residents, young Mike Sisco had AIDS. Mike and his sisters went to the local swimming pool on a hot summer day and he got into the pool. The pool cleared out. People left by the droves. Remember...1987, West Virginia, AIDS.....very few people had a clue...let alone in West Virginia. So, back in 1987 Oprah went to Williamson and did a show where all of the old included clips here are recorded. And today, Oprah was back in Williamson. Visiting with members of the audience that day along with Mike's three sisters. It was one overly powerful hour on television. If you're gay, or know someone who is....if you have AIDS or have known someone who has, this one will strike at your deepest emotions.

Growing up in Idaho wasn't much different than West Virginia. People were hateful. Many continue to be. It used to be outward, unabashed hatefulness. Today, it tends to be cloaked in the careful picking of scripture and words and phrases and sentences that don't play on soundbites quite as vehemently as they used to. But the hate still exists. I have said all along, that simply because its not legal to ask African Americans to use a separate water fountain in this day and age doesn't remove the position of one's heart. Folks in Idaho, West Virginia and many other places in our country still continue to harbor a complete disdain for those different than they are. They phrase it in such pretty sentences as "I love the sinner but hate the sin." Believe me, I'm used to hearing that sort of sentence....delivered from the pulpit while sitting in the pew listening carefully. I want you to listen to Jerry Waters back in 1987 and then listen to Jerry Waters today....one of the most vehement haters in the 1987 group who said that Mike Sisco "repulsed" him. Jerry Waters is a vile man. Even today. And speaking of repulse, his semi-sort-of apology to Mike's sisters repulsed me. He is one of those small town people with a sassy animated side to him who hates gay people.

The show continues picking out audience members who spoke way back then and interviews some of them today. Starting with Mike's three sisters, one of whom is also a lesbian, it asks such questions as "Do you regret making such hateful comments 23 years ago?" And "Do you have anything you'd like to say to Mike's sisters today?" Time does, indeed, march on. Emotions change. Knowledge comes and goes. Some attitudes evolve for the better. Some are simply not as overt as they used to be. And don't miss the video clip on Steven, the guy from California....who says that he watched the show way back in 1987. And that it encouraged him to come out. To be honest about himself. I'm thinking that this final 25th season of Oprah is going to be really powerful.

On the Road Again

Willie Nelson said it best....On The Road Again. Today began this 5-day work week which will take me on another criss-cross of our nation's western half. PDX-SJC-AUS-SJC-PDX-SAN-SEA-AUS-SJC-PDX. And that will conclude the week.

I really should be home. Things are not all that great there. LoverBoy and me been a fightin'. MIL and me been a fightin'. LoverBoy and his Momma done been a fightin'. Things are in turmoil to say the least. And its so odd because this is not how we have run our home over the past 13 years. As of today, MIL is on Medicaid. That's what happens when any of us fail to prepare for our retirement futures. We end up giving back to the government our monthly Social Security checks in return for Medicaid taking care of our room/board/medications/nursing care in a nursing home or assisted living facility. That begins today. We're in the middle of packing up her former apartment. Her lovable old Pooch has been snatched up by a family friend -- and I miss him more than anything. LoverBoy has been on the phone many times a day and emailing back and forth with a wide variety of health care and government workers. They have been really very helpful and caring. We have begun to drive all around town looking at different facilities. The disappointing part? It doesn't matter where she ends up -- she simply won't be happy. There's always something wrong. Rarely does a visit go by that she doesn't cast a negative slant and glow on the room. Its depressing. And yesterday after witnessing her go off on a minimum-wage worker at her current care facility, I told her off good. And then marched my ass down to the front lobby -- my ears on fire, my pulse racing, my head aching, and my mouth in full gear. I've had it. Needless to say, I need to be home. For patching up with LoverBoy, for mending his broken heart, for helping do what I can to assist him. He knows I love him. Dearly. And he knows how much it doesn't make me feel good when I hurt him.

We've developed this lovely little habit of having Happy Hour each Tuesday night at one of our favorite local gay haunts Crush Bar. Their Happy Hour prices go all evening on Tuesdays so that's how the whole gig started. It feels like Cheers. Only we don't sit around the bartender. And there's no catchy song playing. It feels good. Friends do that for friends, you know. And we really need our friends right now. (Gawd, I sound like an old whiny, bitchy letch......which I hate.....).

Gotta run kids. I'm in Austin, Texas, tonight and I'm exhausted after a 3:45am wakeup this morning and a 03:30am wakeup tomorrow. I'm getting old. And I have to be happy and service people with a smile. Oh, wait, serve them with a smile may be more appropriate.

Target Musical Review

A perfect opportunity to show off your musical skills in a nice, toe-tapping way while still making a valid point. Target doesn't like the gays in case you didn't know.

The Way We Treat Them......

This is the way we treat educated, professional human beings who want to serve our country. We get rid of them. I'm telling you kids, I feel like we're in the Dark Ages instead of the year 2010. Something continues to be seriously amiss in this, one of the most powerful nations on earth. These are just two of the amazing folks attempting to serve our nation in the U.S. military but who are not permitted to because they are gay.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Why I'm Gay

I've always wondered. Contemplated. Speculated. Thought. About why I'm gay. And now I know. I can blame is squarely on Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia and Rose. The Golden Girls made me gay:

• Blanche’s promiscuity is a common model for the personal lives of today’s homosexuals. Most gay relationships last a week.
• She taught our modern butt rompers to disparage everyone in their orbit. Dorothy taught the gays to speak very fast and have the most superior attitude possible.
• For Florida, The Golden Girls completely ruined the reality of Miami’s masculine reputation. It was no longer a city of Scarface and Miami Vice.

Check out the article. You'll laugh....at the show, and at yourself. And at the writer. This is the kind of crap that 2010 Christianity in the United States is scaring people with. I've said it for many years -- if the church would actually look on the INside of its four walls, there would be serious trouble. Instead, they continue to choose to look OUTside....blaming others, casting attention outside to avoid the inward focus. I spent the vast majority of my life inside of the church. It hasn't been right for centuries. And it still isn't right today. But at least articles like this continue to give us giggles and laughs. As they should. And, do you suppose, just possibly, that it really was Blanche and Dorothy that made me gay?

Ted Haggard's Coming Around Again

Gay People Welcome -- Gay Marriages, Not So Much.....

Just like Carly Simon, it just goes to show that you can't keep a closeted homosexual meth user down. Ted Haggard is back doing what he loves to do. I remember another sex-related scandal in my own church growing up. Apparently, congregations don't like it when the senior pastor is discovered in bed with one of the elder's wives. Tsk tsk. At least in my church in Idaho they didn't. Good luck, Ted. Be honest about yourself this time around, would you please? It'll be easier on all of us.

Third Week of July

And....we're back! From Bear Week 2010 in Provincetown. A week in an old house with ten good friends and no bad apples this time around. An excellent relaxing week without drama or attitude or babysitting. If you've ever been to P-Town, you'll know that it is one of America's most gay meccas. Filled with "those people." This time around, however, it was a bit of a different mix -- containing far more straight people, cute girls in short dresses, and tons of children and strollers. I thought I was getting away from my work on the airplane and was going to be able to enjoy a week without strollers and yelling children -- but, alas, it was not entirely to be. There was definitely a strikingly different group of people in the town this year....in addition to the thousands of big old handsome hairy bears. And, for the first time, I encountered "that look." You know that look, don't you? The look by an overweight older straight guy who has been living in the parking lot at Wal Mart for a while and who has good Christian values....who looks like he would just as soon shoot you as look at you. I mean, here's the deal...the town is filled with same-sex couples holding hands, kissing, enjoying, relaxing....in an environment where we are actually able to do that sort of normal thing without fearing for our lives and getting bashed for who we are. But this time around, it was a bit different. And I did encounter "that look" -- the look that wanted to know what in the world two men were doing holding hands. And I didn't like it.

Don't you get tired of supposed adults who can't quite give up thinking they are victims in this world? Those who renege on their responsibilities and promises. Those who think that because someone else may happen to be more well off than they are that the other guy can be the one to pay for things "because they have it and I don't." I'm getting increasingly cranky when I encounter those who take advantage of friends, family and others and decide that "You can afford it, I can't" when it comes time to keeping up with responsibilities. Shirking off to others what is your responsibility is not something I call pretty or smacking of adult behavior. My buttons are getting pushed and this boy ain't enjoying it one little bit.

I can plainly see that this is, yet, one more summer that will be passing without us going camping. We've got a full compliment of camping gear in a storage shed that sits unused year after year. We used to go fairly regularly and loved it. But now, responsibilities and work seems to keep the lid on those sorts of things. And I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm simply stating facts and wish that our schedules and things that keep us close to home were different.

In case you didn't know already (yeah, right...), I have this way about me. I call it the "Church boy who had the lid kept on the kettle for far too long" syndrome. You see, that's what happens. You tell someone, anyone!, "No, no no" for long enough and they are bound to turn it into "Yes, yes yes!" sooner or later. I grew up covered, sheltered, in church, and without the ability to be myself in some ways. No regrets, just the facts. Nowadays, I'm a brassy and sassy dude. Mouthy, without filters on my mouth sometimes, don't put up with BS, and call people on their little games. If I see a good looking dude, you'll see my head turn....and possibly, even, a gutteral utterance. I keep my mouth shut until I can't any longer -- and then you'd better look out. I make sexual innuendos. I make comments that I shouldn't sometimes. People take me seriously sometimes when I'm not. And vice versa. But, hey now, that's life. It's led me into trouble more than once. It's caused mixed reviews when it comes to people actually liking me or not. It's created rifts in friendships and I've had myself removed from more than one friend's Facebook lineup because of it. I'm a nice guy. I'm not a sweet guy. But I'm me. I don't apologize for me, for who I am. If you want to get the job done, you'll call me. If you want to chat about how mean people are to you in this world, you won't call me. I love my friends. And most of them even love me. And that's enough.

We are in the middle of a lot of work after our vacation in Provincetown. But as many nights as we can, we go to one of Portland's free Summer Concerts in the Parks. We take a picnic, our lawn chairs, Mason many times, and head to the park. The music is all different, it typically draws in the local neighborhood of wherever the park is located, and it is nothing but a great way to spend one of Portland's warm summer evenings. We've been doing it for more than ten years now. We invite friends, anybody is welcome. There are food vendors, children, pets and bicycles. It makes us feel good.

The Final Day

Today is our last full day at Bear Week 2010 in Provincetown.

• We've seen far more of these than last year: Lesbians, children, strollers, tour/bus groups, hot straight men with their girlfriends.
  
• We attend the Tea Dance at the Boat Slip each afternoon from 4-7pm. It's been unbelievably crowded....thousands each afternoon.
• Did you know that a leaf blower can actually be used on stage in a production in a person's mouth?
• I was called a sexy Metrosexual yesterday.
  
• We saw the Varla Jean Merman show last night -- a staple here in P-Town. Excellent!
• Walking through narrow city streets in the midst of thousands of people in a group is difficult. You really have to adopt a "No Rules" sort of plan -- where anybody can do anything at any time. No rules. No hard feelings. No biggie.
  
• We typically drink about 50% of our annual alcohol consumption during these seven days. I actually think we've been a little better this year.
• I'm amazed at the dollar amount spent on a single cocktail or on a single restaurant entree. It's not for the financially weak of heart.
  
• Most of the shops are staffed by foreign workers -- I remember last year they told me they were from South Africa and Eastern Europe. Many struggle with their English. They also work more than one job per day....some even three jobs. They are here from May-November.
• My neck is nearly broken from trying to spin it in multiple directions at any given time....there's just so much to see....if you know what I mean. (Umm.....Bradley from Texas.......that's all I have to say....).
  
• We've met all sorts of people from Boston, Vermont, New York City, England, the Midwest, Washington DC...and the list goes on. (Those damn British failed to pay back my husband for the added cost of the one meal they had with us.......).
• Daddy had a shave in the Bear Barber Shop by a hot guy. You should have seen the hot men lined up for shaves -- GGrrrrrr.......
• Dessert is my friend.
  
• I have stopped more times than I can count to say hi to the hundreds of pooches in the streets. I've had two of them on their backs with all fours in the air....the dogs...the DOGS!
• My tee-shirt fetish has been properly embellished this week.
  
• My Husband has received far more attention from the attractions of others than I have this week.
  

Just Another Day in Provincetown

Bear Week 2010 in Provincetown is shaping up quite nicely. How do a town of several thousand drenched bears running for cover sound? Oh boy. You should have seen us after we ran, ran, ran through town in the pouring rain. We were as wet as if you'd run us through the washing machine today. And tonight, it has cleared up beautifully -- we sat on the front porch at the Gifford House for an evening nightcap. A perfectly good period on a nice day. We had lunch with our friends Mike and Rob from Albany and sat at Tea Dance in the pouring rain, unable to move. Tonight lots of good food with eight of us......our friends Alex and Jason arrived today from the Pacific Northwest.

And not to be outdone, we've rubbed.....a, er....noses.....shoulders really.....with two porn stars: Jake Deckard and Johnny Hazzard. Yep. Jonny stood right by us during the rain storm with his umbrella....and minus his nice little white pit bull pup that he's been in town with this week. I asked him where the pooch was. And then Jake and I chatted with another dude about pink cupcakes and washing them down with Red Bull. Let's just say that they are only two of thousands.....seriously, thousands....of hot men in this town. My head is spinning like an owl.

We're having a great time. There's no doubt about that.

Engines are Started.....

Teeth are in the middle of being bleached, the nails have been groomed, bags are packed, laundry is nearly done, bedding is almost done, groceries purchased, MIL all set in her abode, the dog is headed to Aunt Melanie's tonight, I have robbed enough banks for cash to fill a suitcase, and the leather vest we purchased in Chicago awhile back is jammed into an overly packed suitcase. Tomorrow we leave Portland and fly nonstop to Boston. We're staying in a very nice hotel on the Boston waterfront. And honey and I are going to head straight out and enjoy a few of Boston's Freedom Trail sites before having an Italian dinner in the North End.

Saturday morning we take the ferry from Boston to Provincetown....way out at the very tip of Cape Cod. It's quite the place. This coming week is one of the world's premiere Bear events in the world. it will be filled with thousands of handsome, hairy, muscly men from the East Coast and, in fact, around the world. We're joining several friends in an old house for the week -- it's a low-key, no drama week filled with getting up leisurely, having coffee, coming and going to a huge variety of activities, and meeting lots of new friends. There will be hikes to take, sites to see, and a bit of shopping. Each afternoon at 4pm will find us on the waterfront deck of The Boat Slip for Tea Dance. I'm guessing that there are a thousand or more people at the Tea Dance each afternoon.

So, that's it. Blogging will be minimal. Facebook will be active. Stay cool and have yourselves a great warm summer week.

Sausage In A Casing

So, here's how the edited version of this story goes. For the first time, we are going to attend Portland's Red Dress Party on April 17. It's an annual fundraiser for HIV/AIDS -- and everyone attending wears a red dress. Yep, even the boys. Especially the boys. So, we're going.

Yesterday, we just happened to be in the Nordstrom Rack. And, lo and behold, there it was. The coup de gras. A red dress on the clearance rack in the women's section....a section which I've never been in before. A perfectly acceptable, sexy, sassy and slinky red dress. Something that would make me feel more feminine. Something to help me embrace my inner femininity.

I picked it up, swirled it around, and quickly noted the size 6. "Size 6! I wouldn't be caught dead in a size 6!," I exclaimed. "I'll have to take it in a few notches," I continued. Only a few innocent bystanders were harmed during this encounter, I swear.

So, I get it home and slip into it. Well, not so much "slip" into it as wrestle the sausage into the casing. I tried it over the head. And then I tried to step into it. I mean, how in the world would I know how to get into a dress. And then, Pop! Goes the Weasel. It fell into place. My nipples perky and showing. I think I need pasties. And my little Buddha belly gently protruding. And then, the sad revelation that Daddy needs a size 8....or 10.

Get Yer Color On !!!

If THIS doesn't do it, I don't know what does. It's Undie Monday again at Idle Eyes and a Dormy -- and this week's celebration is a tribute to the rainbow flag....every color of it. It's come to be a typical gay icon...always a reminder of who we are, the brightness of our spirits (in spite of the many trials we've all come through), and the giant group of GLBT folks that we call friends and family. What a fantastic time of the year to celebrate each of us.........

I've just finished a six-day stretch of work. In spite of being able to see such amazing beauty in Sitka, Alaska, this week, I'm not feeling overly chipper this morning. Getting up at 04:00am every day can do that to a guy. I'm really looking forward to my two days off.....I do have to say that I was able to say hi to the beautiful Keri Russell yesterday. She's been working on the movie Crowley in the Portland area with Harrison Ford and Brendan Fraser. Such a gorgeous woman, she is.

The iPhone wait is in the home stretch -- The doors open at 07:00am Friday morning for those of us who pre-ordered it before last Friday. I'm wondering what time I should be there? I have no idea who many people will be in line waiting for their cult-following-technology devices. I can't wait....my hubby keeps saying that he's never seen me this excited for an Apple product before.

My brother's birthday was yesterday -- he turned 45. I thought about him a few times and wondered what he was doing. I sent a card early last week so that it would reach him in time. We're not close. He's a nice man and has a great family. But, as many can relate, since that "I'm gay" moment, things have changed. I wish it were different.

So, it's that time of year....summer is cranking up in full swing, gay Pride celebrations going on worldwide, and families are off and running to camping and holiday trips. Enjoy yourselves, boys and girls -- especially those of you who exist most of the winter months in snow and ice. You deserve it more than any of us. Have a great week, everybody.......wear your bright colors in pride and solidarity.....and especially because you look damned great in them!

Pat Robertson's Nemesis

Looky what we spotted on the back of a car near our house recently. I just know that Pat Robertson would want to know that he's doing us all well. Look closely.

Signs of the Times

From the men's room at the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. Looks like somebody skipped out on grade school spelling one time too many. Probably too busy looking at the sixth grade boys out on the playground in their PE shorts.

And from Portland, this fantastic snippet of rainbow purportions:

We're Going to Have a Gay Mayor next year! Great job, Sam Adams!