Seattle, Washington !!

Pics are here of our holiday so far. In spite of hearing some little trollop in the room next door squelch and squeel like a stuck pig, it's been a great few days. We have been to/seen/done: Museum of Flight including their exhibit on the history of flight attendants and tours of JFK's Air Force One and a British Airway's Concorde; Washington State ferry ride to Bremerton and back including a private tour of the bridge by the 2nd Mate; walked Capitol Hill twice; had a fantastic dinner at Assaggio's and said hi to our friend, the owner, Mauro; had dinner, drinks, and Ding Dongs with several great bloggers from Blogography, My 2 Cents, and KristinWoodKnits; walked Pioneer Square; saw a Chinese New Year parade; visited Pike Place Market. Tomorrow we stop for a tour of Boeing's aircraft factory at Everett, Washington; make a stop at the Peace Arch at the US/Canadian border, and continue on into downtown Vancouver. We're staying at a gay-owned B&B and having dinner with a couple more bloggers that we have never met. Great times ahead!

Taking the Birthday Whacks Like A Man

This time of year always brings up what I now see as a funny story. But at the time, it wasn't good at all. Conservative little church boy here in the Presbyterian Church in Boise, Idaho, used to be in the youth group with the church janitor's daughter. She and I hung around together. And I started helping out at the church cleaning floors, classrooms, and all of that. What I didn't know was that the church janitor had a dirty little naughty secret that he was hiding. He liked little boys ... like me. How lucky for me, eh? So, birthday time rolls around. I go to the church after school and Bob tells me to come upstairs and down to this one particular classroom, our junior high meeting room. We talked and talked like I still like to do and he finally got around to my birthday. He had a card for me and was going to take me out to dinner with his family. But there was just one more little teeny tiny present he wanted to give me. A birthday spanking. He thought it was time. So, tried to grab me and put me over his lap. Oh no, this wiry skinny white kid was going to have none of that. So, after a whack or two, I let the inner girl out by kicking and screaming. No way this janitor was going to treat me like his cleaning rags. In quite typical form, I marched my white ass right down to the churh office and asked to see the church's senior pastor.....can't you just see this 6th or 7th grader doing that? I told him what had happened and they should fire that guy. And they did. Years passed before I heard about Bob and his family. His daughter called me when my own father passed away. Bob was in Montana. In prison. For giving one too many birthday whacks to a few too many boys. Bob, please. Wait until they're 18 and they like that sort of thing.

Last year on my birthday, I asked for as many text messages, phone calls, emails and comments as I could muster up. Just to meet as many of you as I could personally. I made some very good friends through that. In the meantime, we're off on holiday to celebrate our recent domestic partnership, Valentine's Day, and my birthday. I'll be absent the reading-commenting-posting scene for a week. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of meeting this local Portland blogger for coffee. Fantastic guy with beautiful artwork to show for himself. On our holiday, we're going to Seattle for three nights and will be having dinner with Hot Blogger #1, Hot Blogger #2, and Hot Blogger #3. Anybody else in Seattle, you're welcome to join us for a little informal dinner on Saturday at 5pm. Email me for details. We're also going to have dinner at an amazing Italian restaurant owned by celebrity chef Mauro Golmarvi. Mauro was the on-board chef on our Holland America Caribbean cruise a year ago. We've been nearly beside ourselves waiting to taste his cuisine!

From Seattle, we're driving further north and stopping at Boeing's Future of Flight Aviation and Tour Center. This is their widebody plant where they produce the big stuff. And then we're on up the I-5 corridor and right on through the busiest uncontrolled border in the world. The International Peace Arch is here too. That brings us to one of my very favorite cities in the world, Vancouver BC. We're staying downtown at a gay-owned B&B and are really excited. This is where we're going to meet Hot Blogger #4 and Hot Blogger #5 for dinner and drinks. Anybody else in Vancouver is welcome to join us Monday evening...email me for details. And also where I'll spend my birthday, February 19. The day before John Glenn orbited the earth. I wish you all wellness, wholeness, and peace while I'm absent. See you in a week.

PS....Hot Bloggers listed above were not listed in any particular order. The order should not be construed as an element of the actual hotness of any particular hot blogger.

Whiter Than Snow -- Really?

My recently-government-approved husband often plays his grand piano. He's good. Very good. And although he plays a huge variety of music, we do have a book called The Big Book of Hymns. Church-y stuff. And I know that some of you know them full well, many by heart, from your days of sitting in church pews. You may be familiar with Whiter Than Snow. I wasn't until a friend of mine introduced it to me in 1983. He was my director on a Christian singing tour through the Western US, Canada, and Alaska. Popular, good looking, visually and verbally everything anyone could want. We were sitting together one day and talking about hymns and music. And he said that this was one of his favorites: Lord Jesus, I long to be perfectly whole. I want thee forever to live in my soul. Break down every idol, cast out every foe. Now wash me and I shall be whiter than snow. He had our group sing it from time to time throughout the summer. And I've remembered it ever since. Without doubt, it always reminds me of him. Good looking, horribly charismatic in his religious walk and life, smiling, happy, and quite a type-A personality. Dressed well, polished shoes, coiffed hair. A really fantastic person and developed into an excellent friend. But it had started out the previous year when I saw him performing in a traveling Christian stage production. And he nearly demanded that I stick around after the show to say hi to him. We went to coffee and drove around a bit before ending up back at my parents home where I was living. One thing led to another and, before you knew it, he was on the floor with his shirt off and asking for a backrub. Fine. No problem. I drove him back to his motel and walked him up to his room. And then left. Nothing happened. I ended up traveling with him for six months during 1993 all over the US and seven countries in Asia before our friendship nearly came to a screeching halt. He became innundated with the beautiful young man who was our piano player. And the rest of the tour member suffered because of it. Our good friendship was nearly ruined. We went many years without speaking. And then, a stroke of craziness hit me and I decided to get married. We were in Denver and saw this friend again. He asked if he could take me to breakfast. Absolutely. He apologized for the past and said he had a very important question to ask me. He, too, was getting ready to ask a young lady to be his wife. He said that he knew full well "the struggles with homosexuality" that both of us had faced...and just exactly how did I resolve those and how was I able to make my marriage work." He was really fishing and searching here. He seemed as unsettled as I did. I mean, these are daunting questions for a struggling guy. He went on to marry her and now has several young girls. He's been a pastor in a lovely horrible successful and well-known Baptist church in California and has been on staff at numerous Christian organizations leading Bible studies and taking groups to South America on mission trips. He won't communicate with me any longer. Won't email. He didn't comment on my recent happiness of domestic partnership. I'm afraid that what I know of his past is a huge threat for him. Plus the fact that he lives a lifestyle that isn't completely congruent with what he knows is true of himself. Struggle. Confusion. Yup, I've been there. And, horribly thankfully, am not any more. But he is. As are many others. The words still strike me, "Whiter than snow, yes whiter than snow. Now wash me and I shall be whiter than snow."

Introducing Mason....

I must freely admit, that ten years ago when my honey and I met I was not an animal person. I wouldn't let them near me, touch me, hated shedding and hair, the smell, and the thought of a bare naked ass looking at me was not pretty. Didn't want them near me, at all. Over the last couple of years, on many occasions, I've looked up to see my honey shaking his head while looking at me saying, "I can't believe what I'm seeing." Me, petting a dog or saying hi to a passing pet. And still, I have not wanted my own. But I'm afraid it happened violently and quickly. I have been stricken. Yesterday we spotted a cute little thing in a shop window that clung to me like you know what on you know what. Today, we went back to look and, guess what, the sign in the window said "Hold for Michelle." I have to say, my heart sunk (but I'll deny it to the end lest anybody see my softer side). The nice shop lesbian lady redirected us to a cute little boy Poodle-Maltese mix born on November 1. We've named him Mason. He's home now, freshly bathed, new bed, and seems exhausted. It's been quite a day for him on, this, his first day in a new home. It's the very first animal that I've ever purchased or owned, other than the ones we had growing up. 45 years old and a brand new kid. Amazing. We've got neighbors coming over in a few hours for a champagne toast and snacks in celebration of our new domestic partnership. And, boy oh boy, won't they be surprised. Married and child. All in the same week. Baby pics are here.

Celebrate -- Mardi Gras Style !!

So, what does the month of February bring to mind other than Valentine's Day, my birthday, Chinese New Year, President's Day, our brand-new Oregon Domestic Partnership, bulbs breaking the ground here in Portland anyway, and........Mardi Gras! Our friends J&J hosted their annual shin-dig last night. It was a giant evening filled with a million people dressed in the most amazing costumes and beautiful clothes, lots of sparkling beads, drinks in hand, candles everywhere, music blasting, spicy hot jambalaya with cornbread, and lots of beautiful decorations. It was even a rain-free day in Portland (miracles do happen!) and we were able to be outside with a fire burning. I can't say enough good about what a fun evening it was....thank you boys! All pics are here. Enjoy and Celebrate! And if you haven't found a good reason to celebrate lately, start looking for it and expecting it. Life is worth it.

Phoenix-Ready For the Day

Moderator Approval and Visual Verification -- Why?

Alright kids, I don't often get off on a rant about too much (well, that's not entirely true, but don't hold it against me)...but here goes. What's up with many of your blogs requiring BOTH entering a visual verification code AND still being required to go through moderator approval? Sounds like you're trying to protect Fort Knox or something. I don't have either. It's so easy for me and for my commenters. And I'm considering not reading those sites that require me to spend extra time entering all of those codes.....I mean, I read more than 100 blogs a day and the extra keystrokes and can be a daunting task sometimes. I'm trying to simplify and be less complicated this year. I've had only minimal spam comments or abuse on my comments. And it's as easy as deleting them. So, give it some thought, would you? Oh and, yes, I know that it's your site and you can do what you damned well please.....I know all of that. I'm just asking. Begging? Hoping? I could possibly understand you wanting one or the other, but both? And you could just throw caution to the wind and do away with any of it.....for the sake of your readers, I beg you! And you know that I love you all so don't be trying to pull the "You don't love me" card. It just won't work. Cause you know that I do!

The Good and The Bad

The good always comes with the bad, doesn't it? So, when I saw this early yesterday morning, I was elated and I knew you would be too. It's not long, my friends. Life will soon be returning to the earth, although I find it more than a great place to spend the winters on this earth.

And after that good news, here's a little giggle for you. I mean, what is this kind of shit flowing out of a perfectly good Baptist minister's mouth? It's so totally bogus that it's like there are two or three people inside of him trying to get out. But after Super Tuesday, I guess we don't have to worry so much about another talking mouth like Huckabee. I can't stand any more time with a Baptist-Minister-Turned-Wanna-Be-President-Politician personage. As Donald Trump would say, "You're Fired Huckabee." Um, buh bye.

Mike Huckabee: "I believe that all men are created equal."

Bullshit, Mike. You and I both know full well that you don't believe that. And on that note, we'll bid you farewell.

Hitched -- At Last !!

After ten years plus a couple of months, we have finally been recognized by the state of Oregon as Domestic Partners. We just returned from the county building and were the 106th couple registered on this, the first day that same-sex couples have been permitted to be legally recognized. There were lots of volunteers from Basic Rights Oregon helping with paperwork, the paperwork process, and even handing out flowers. As we came out the glass doors, the lobby full of volunteers erupted into applause along with a television camera crew taking our photos. I don't think we can really get our head space around this whole deal. The significance of its impact. Its relevance in history. The sharp trendsetting edge that it is. It, my friends, is simply not just another day. And I don't know that it's a day that we ever truly expected to ever dawn. But it did....and we did! I guess that unless you've ever been a part of a group of people that were not treated with equality, fairness, and justice because of who you are as a person, it may be difficult to comprehend. I'm very proud to call myself his husband.....er, a.....wife? Whatever it is, we're quite happy.

Domestic Partnerships in Oregon...Judge Has Lifted Injunction!!

In late-breaking news, Federal Judge Michael Mossman has lifted his temporary temporary injunction on domestic partnerships in the state of Oregon. Both KGW and Gay Right's Watch are reporting that this conservative judge has sided with us in this case! Excellent news for those who were supposed to have been able to file back on January 1 for their Domestic Partnership in our state. Celebrate with us, would you?

More News Links:
Blue Oregon
Just Out

What Do You Call Me ??

So, I'm wondering, what delicious sort of name do you call me? No, silly, I don't mean the one you utter in the dark behind tightly-closed doors. I mean, when you're talking to someone else about an article you've seen, or story you've heard, on my site. I mean, do you start it out with, "A friend of mine.....;" or "A blogger friend of mine.....;" or "An internet freak I found......;" or "Some brain-washed Oregonian...." Exactly what is it? I've found that I've struggled, only slightly, when referring to things I've discovered on your sites. I've used "friend," and then suddenly realized that many of you I don't even know personally. So, can we still be friends? And I've used "Blogger," and had people stare at me like I've got a protrusion erupting from my left ear because they are so in the dark and have no idea what a blogger is. And I remember when I first was on my way to Orlando, nearly a year now, to meet with this bunch of hot guys. I was with people that I didn't know and they were wondering what I was going to do in Orlando. I said, casually and stone-faced, "Oh, I'm going to meet a few guys that I found on the internet." Talk about stirring the pot! Which is exactly what I love to do, I must say.

So, now I'm feeling pretty good about just using "friend" when referring to each of you, which I do regularly, I might add. Your lives have become intertwined with mine in mysterious, wonderful ways. I've learned from you, listened to you, shared with you, even a couple of tears here and there. We've emailed, blogged, texted, phoned, met in person, and sent cards and letters and gifts. And we've met on levels that even some live, breathing bodies aren't able to accomplish sometimes. I think that everyone should try out blogging. It's an element that adds dimension, happiness, and depth to one's life. And so, today, I'm more than happy to count you as my good friends, my comrades, and my mates.

Ronald and Me

Portland, Oregon

McDonald's Drive-Thru

NE 82nd and Burnside

10:29am

Picking up Cholesterol-Laden Goodies for In-Laws

ME: I'd like a Big Mac Meal with a Diet Coke, please.

Ronald: I'm sorry, sir, we don't serve lunch until 10:30am.

ME: Oh, great. It's 10:29am now, so I'll just wait here a minute.

A hair's breadth of time passes....a mere smattering of a wisp of seconds......

and then the speaker crackles to life once again...it's now 10:30.....

Ronald: Welcome to McDonald's, may I take your lunch order now, sir.

ME: I'd like a Big Mac Meal with a Diet Coke, please.

Ronald: That'll be $$$$$ at the first window, please.

I love it when Ronald calls me "Sir."

Biscuits and Civil Unions...An Unlikely Union

I'd like mine with honey and butter, please. And maybe just a bit of raspberry freezer jam. The biscuits, that is. Of course it wouldn't be the female dancers at Pirate's Cove and I can't imagine that it would be the male bartenders. You'll recall that I've written about this neighborhood icon in past a time or two. I can't help but think that it'd be fantastic as a place for our neighbors to gather for coffee. But, instead, we've got a strip club complete with (apparently) the best biscuits in town. Oh, and one of their most recent claims to fame has something to do with Maxim Magazine. Their sign read "Thanks Maxim Magazine" for the last month or so. God only knows what that could possibly mean. But what I'm really waiting for is the scene where all of the boys come with their biscuits to the yard. Stay tuned.

Portland Residents: This Wednesday, January 30, will mark a giant planned vigil in front of the U.S. District Courthouse in downtown Portland. If you're in the area, be there or be square: Wednesday at 5:30pm at SW 3rd and Madison. Details are here from Basic Rights Oregon. This will serve as a time to unite, stand up, and be counted in anticipation of Judge Michael Mossman's decision on the state of Civil Unions in the state of Oregon. Mossman will render his decision next Friday, February 1. With New Mexico and even Salt Lake City joining the ranks of providing equal rights and benefits to their citizens, it is most definitely time for Oregon to jump into the year 2008 with a giant leap of equal rights for all. Come on, Mossman....do it right!

Baring It All...The History and Antics

Looking back, I do see a stream of latent tendencies of exhibitionism. Well, that, in addition to having the slightest edge of show-off in me. So, this Aussie friend and this Canadian friend have me thinking (something I try to do as little of as possible...it's highly overrated). Where, and when, did my enjoyment of being naked begin? It's only been in the last ten years that I've actually began really being comfortable with myself and my body. And only in that time that I've acquired a penchant for going to the nude beach (summer only, considering shrinkage concerns). My hubby and a friend took me to Rooster Rock in the summer of 1998. So, I really blame them for the creation of this enjoyment. And I wrote about it back in the spring. Since then, I've added Sauvie Island to my list of enjoyable places to spend summer afternoons. And I'm hoping to add Wreck Beach to the mix sometime soon. Before that time, I was a frightened, shy-to-be-naked guy. But introspection has gotten the best of me and I've tried to delve as far back into my childhood as I can to examine my moments of early indiscretions. One of the earliest was when we had a babysitter over when I was maybe 8-10 years old. Inevitably, they were young, cute, impressionable females. I thought it sort of fun if I turned off the electricity to the whole house at the main switch box, stripped down nude, turned the power back on after the screaming started, and then (the good part) I would come running out, jumping around naked. She'd cover her eyes and squeal like a pig. Not pretty. For her. But hilarious for me.

Another of my earliest times of impropriety was around age six with my school friend, Wes, in his mother's bathroom over in the poor people's trailer park. We'd strip, pee in front of each other, do a little touchy-feely, and that was it. Age ten brought me to the many nights I'd spend at my friend Mike's house. He wasn't shy at all, which I admired. So he would shower in front of me causing my young, influencable mind giant leaps of hormonal imbalance. And what about the men's room at Hillside Junior High where I lived to catch a glimpse of my school mates in action. Horrors! Or on church retreats trying to check out the developing bodys of my friends Joel or Randy. Things were Biblically heating up.

We had a large yard, about an acre, with a fenced-off area in the back. We'd play out there for hours. But when I was alone, I'd make sure no one was lookin and then drop my pants to my ankles, relieve myself out in the open, and think I was being ultra uber bad. Not long after, my mother tried to whip me with the nearest thing she could find which happened to be a full-sized 8-foot long 2x4 board. And boy did I need it! I had really been bad this time. I almost even am embarrassed to tell you (oh, who am I kidding..no I'm not). I had been caught with my trousers unzipped and trying to take a leak through a hole in the fence onto the back of my buddy. I don't recommend this antic until it's consensual. My mom nearly killed me swinging that board at my ass. But as soon as I started to develop, and puberty reared its ugly head, my brother found, and announced to all within earshot range, that he had seen a lone black hair under my left arm. That did it. From that moment on, I was in lock down mode. No one saw me with my clothes off. I was shy, closeted, and scared to be seen. And that horrible phase lasted a long, long time -- clear into adulthood. It was only after I had come out and began to discover who I really was that I began to develop my more healthy desire to be naked. I love the nude beach. The sun, the breeze, the friends and good times. And I really enjoy being alone there. The quietness of the river, sand, trees. It doesn't get much better. I still don't think that I'd want to take it all off for my parents, brother or sister today -- but it wouldn't' bother me as much as it'd bother them. I think the stigma has been removed. The scariness that someone would actually see me for who I am. Now, it just doesn't matter. It's a blast, a lot of freedom, to allow yourself to develop, in all areas, to a more secure adult than you were in the past. So, take it all off! I guarantee a whole new added dimension to your life.

And We Shall...