Does Money Make You Mean?

I'm sure this isn't popular with most Republicans and others who are leaving the rest of us behind. The lecture is a little dry, but the example of the Monopoly Game and the drivers of luxury cars are illustrative.



I've blogged about wealth and disparity before. If you're interested:

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

HERE

When Saying "I Love You" Was (Just Recently) A Crime

LINK here to an ex-Navy SEAL's story.

A Sign of Things to Come? or Do These Backward States Really Enjoy Making Themselves A Laughing Stock?

Link*:
Kansas is poised to codify discrimination against gays based on "religious freedom". 

and here

and here

Proposed Kansas legislation would allow ANYONE to discriminate against LGBT persons based on their RELIGIOUS BELIEFS by denying goods, services or public accommodation if “related to, or related to the celebration of, any marriage, domestic partnership, civil union or similar arrangement.” (emphasis mine). And it provides for complete immunity from lawsuits or recourse.

Going to the movies to celebrate your partner's birthday? Out to dinner on Valentine's Day? Buying a new outfit for your best friend's wedding? If the theater or restaurant or clothing store is run by bible bangers in Kansas, go elsewhere Dorothy. Call 911 for an emergency at the home you and your spouse share - the first responder doesn't have to help you if he doesn't believe in "your lifestyle".

While I'm certain it has no chance in hell of surviving constitutional muster, the fact that those Kansan legislators have the audacity to put forward such a bill is both scary and laughable. It defies logic, reason and common sense. The consequences would be dangerous and costly.

Do these people have no BRAINS? no COURAGE? no HEART?

The short answer is "Yes" to all of the above. I imagine that in today's Kansas, the Scarecrow, the Lion the Tin Man and Dorothy herself would all be shunned if they were going to a same-sex wedding.

The only bright spot in this is I can't wait to see how the LGBT community responds. Someone will come up with a witty retort, a highly visible demonstration, a creative response that will put the bigots to shame.

The Kansas legislature, the governor and the Republican party will again be a laughing stock.

Never Surrender, Dorothy!

*As usual, reading the comments of readers on some of these news articles is eye-opening, irritating, sad, tedious or occasionally funny.

Panti Bliss on Homophobia (Video & Text) - This Has Been Going Around and Should Keep Going Around

Other blogs have posted this video and a few have given some background. I posted it on Feb 5th and I think it is important enough to re-post it, in case one of my few readers hasn't seen it. It concerns a controversial commentary by Rory O'Neill, aka drag queen Panti Bliss on an Irish Saturday night TV show in which the performer referred to certain individuals as homophobic. The TV network immediately caved to those individual who threatened law suits and paid out 85,000 Euros to settle out of court. READ MORE HERE

I have said before, and I will say it again: We LGBT folks should no longer stand silently by while allowing straights to define the conversation about our sexuality, our lived experience, our rights. They should not be the ones to define what it means to be gay or lesbian or bisexual or transgender. They should not be the arbiters of our morality, our choices, or whether or not we conform to the unrealistic and oppressive standards of some mis-interpreted scriptures.

What was the controversy in Ireland about? It was about the appropriation of the word Homophobia by straights who were allegedly libeled when referred to by Panti as "homophobic". In Panti's words:

So now Irish gay people find ourselves in a ludicrous situation where not only are we not allowed to say publicly what we feel oppressed by, we are not even allowed to think it because our definition has been disallowed by our betters.

And for the last three weeks I have been denounced from the floor of parliament to newspaper columns to the seething morass of internet commentary for “hate speech” because I dared to use the word “homophobia”. And a jumped-up queer like me should know that the word “homophobia” is no longer available to gay people. Which is a spectacular and neat Orwellian trick because now it turns out that gay people are not the victims of homophobia – homophobes are. (emphasis mine)

Panti says it well and better than I do.

And as someone else much wiser than I once said, (and I paraphrase): "let those who have ears hear" but sadly many with ears will stick their fingers in them and make babbling noises with their voices to block out hearing the truth: (full text below)



I personally think this is the essence of our current struggle: that non-LGBT are still defining the conversation about us. 

This has to STOP.

No longer can bigoted, homophobic, self-appointed experts, or those who consider themselves morally superior, or those who have some religious or political agenda be allowed to dominate the conversation about US, about our lives, about our rights, about or future. Let alone the ignorant, rigid, homophobic, religious literalists who insist on spreading their hateful opinions and illogic in comment sections of internet blogs and news journals.

Am I being too repetitious? Let me repeat in other words.

Further, there shouldn't even be a debate about us in the halls of congress, in the blogosphere, in the churches.

As far as I'm concerned, this phase of conversationwith non-LGBT folks is OVER:

- whether or not we "choose" to be gay or lesbian or bi or trans,
- whether or not we are "intrinsically disordered",
- whether or not we "deserve" rights,
- whether or not we "recruit" young people, or are pedophiles
- whether or not we should marry, or adopt children
- whether or not we should be able to order a wedding cake,
- whether or not we should be allowed to visit a partner in the hospital,
- whether or not we should be fired by the Catholic school,
- whether or not we should be allowed to march in the St. Patrick's Day Parade,
- whether or not we should play NFL football,
- whether or not we should be made "unmentionable" in our schools,
- whether or not we should be imprisoned or tortured or put to death for who we are.

The only conversation now, the only conversations we should engage in, are those in which we participate as full citizens with the dignity of full equal rights.

Full transcript of Panti Bliss' speech:

Hello. My name is Panti and for the benefit of the visually impaired or the incredibly naïve, I am a drag queen, a performer, and an accidental and occasional gay rights activist.

And as you may have already gathered, I am also painfully middle-class. My father was a country vet, I went to a nice school, and afterwards to that most middle-class of institutions – art college. And although this may surprise some of you, I have always managed to find gainful employment in my chosen field – gender discombobulation.

So the grinding, abject poverty so powerfully displayed in tonight’s performance is something I can thankfully say I have no experience of.

But oppression is something I can relate to. Oh, I’m not comparing my experience to Dublin workers of 1913, but I do know what it feels like to be put in your place.

Have you ever been standing at a pedestrian crossing when a car drives by and in it are a bunch of lads, and they lean out the window and they shout “Fag!” and throw a milk carton at you?

Now it doesn’t really hurt. It’s just a wet carton and anyway they’re right – I am a fag. But it feels oppressive.

When it really does hurt, is afterwards. Afterwards I wonder and worry and obsess over what was it about me, what was it they saw in me? What was it that gave me away? And I hate myself for wondering that. It feels oppressive and the next time I’m at a pedestrian crossing I check myself to see what is it about me that “gives the gay away” and I check myself to make sure I’m not doing it this time.

Have any of you ever come home in the evening and turned on the television and there is a panel of people – nice people, respectable people, smart people, the kind of people who make good neighbourly neighbours and write for newspapers. And they are having a reasoned debate about you. About what kind of a person you are, about whether you are capable of being a good parent, about whether you want to destroy marriage, about whether you are safe around children, about whether God herself thinks you are an abomination, about whether in fact you are “intrinsically disordered”. And even the nice TV presenter lady who you feel like you know thinks it’s perfectly ok that they are all having this reasonable debate about who you are and what rights you “deserve”.

And that feels oppressive.

Have you ever been on a crowded train with your gay friend and a small part of you is cringing because he is being SO gay and you find yourself trying to compensate by butching up or nudging the conversation onto “straighter” territory? This is you who have spent 35 years trying to be the best gay possible and yet still a small part of you is embarrassed by his gayness.

And I hate myself for that. And that feels oppressive. And when I’m standing at the pedestrian lights I am checking myself.

Have you ever gone into your favourite neighbourhood café with the paper that you buy every day, and you open it up and inside is a 500-word opinion written by a nice middle-class woman, the kind of woman who probably gives to charity, the kind of woman that you would be happy to leave your children with. And she is arguing so reasonably about whether you should be treated less than everybody else, arguing that you should be given fewer rights than everybody else. And when the woman at the next table gets up and excuses herself to squeeze by you with a smile you wonder, “Does she think that about me too?”

And that feels oppressive. And you go outside and you stand at the pedestrian crossing and you check yourself and I hate myself for that.

Have you ever turned on the computer and seen videos of people just like you in far away countries, and countries not far away at all, being beaten and imprisoned and tortured and murdered because they are just like you?

And that feels oppressive.

Three weeks ago I was on the television and I said that I believed that people who actively campaign for gay people to be treated less or differently are, in my gay opinion, homophobic. Some people, people who actively campaign for gay people to be treated less under the law took great exception at this characterisation and threatened legal action against me and RTÉ. RTÉ, in its wisdom, decided incredibly quickly to hand over a huge sum of money to make it go away. I haven’t been so lucky.

And for the last three weeks I have been lectured by heterosexual people about what homophobia is and who should be allowed identify it. Straight people – ministers, senators, lawyers, journalists – have lined up to tell me what homophobia is and what I am allowed to feel oppressed by. People who have never experienced homophobia in their lives, people who have never checked themselves at a pedestrian crossing, have told me that unless I am being thrown in prison or herded onto a cattle train, then it is not homophobia.

And that feels oppressive.

So now Irish gay people find ourselves in a ludicrous situation where not only are we not allowed to say publicly what we feel oppressed by, we are not even allowed to think it because our definition has been disallowed by our betters.

And for the last three weeks I have been denounced from the floor of parliament to newspaper columns to the seething morass of internet commentary for “hate speech” because I dared to use the word “homophobia”. And a jumped-up queer like me should know that the word “homophobia” is no longer available to gay people. Which is a spectacular and neat Orwellian trick because now it turns out that gay people are not the victims of homophobia – homophobes are.

But I want to say that it is not true. I don’t hate you.

I do, it is true, believe that almost all of you are probably homophobes. But I’m a homophobe. It would be incredible if we weren’t. To grow up in a society that is overwhelmingly homophobic and to escape unscathed would be miraculous. So I don’t hate you because you are homophobic. I actually admire you. I admire you because most of you are only a bit homophobic. Which all things considered is pretty good going.

But I do sometimes hate myself. I hate myself because I f*cking check myself while standing at pedestrian crossings. And sometimes I hate you for doing that to me.

But not right now. Right now, I like you all very much for giving me a few moments of your time. And I thank you for it.

Get Wow!ed over this:

Please forgive Me, I Have To Laugh

Just finished watching the evening news. Saw some wimpy Southerners on TV and heard from friends/relatives in the south - complaining about a little snow and ice. I have to laugh. You guys don't know winter.

"We lost our satellite service." (Clean the snow off the DISH).

"We're going stir crazy after two days indoors." (Take  hike)

"The electricity went out and we have to burn wood in the fireplace." (Consider yourself lucky)

They showed pictures of grocery stores with bare empty shelves - I mean everything gone. (Like you all will be snowed in for two months with three inches of snow or can't survive a couple of days without ten bags of chips, eight jars of salsa and three cases of Mountain Dew)

We, up here in Connecticut, are having a more severe winter than usual, and we too are bitchin' and complainin' but, well we're almost used to it. We've been cooped up since Thanksgiving it seems. Putting on six layers of clothing to get the mail or walk the dog gets pretty depressing after a while. Talk about stir crazy.

To make it a bit worse, we're having a Vermont winter, which is to say it snows every other day or so and never gets above freezing. The snow just piles up.  This makes for squeaky snow, no slush or ice and easy, or relatively easy hiking but if you don't shovel or snow-blow and keep up with the stuff, it gets harder the next time to clean up. We cleaned up after the last storm too soon; we missed the tail end of the storm which left another inch and a half of snow and did a half-assed job cleaning that, so part of our driveway and walkways still have a good layer of snow on them. Oh, well. Like I said, just like a Vermont winter.

The meadow before the wooded trails

The dogs love it in the woods

I'm still doing my daily two-and-a-half-mile hike with my dog Benni and with my friend Dottie and her dog Katija and usually with Leon when he is not working (his business is very seasonal and winter is the off season). He shoveled the roof today and we are ready for tomorrow's big storm.

I'll admit, I did stop for milk and eggs and asparagus on the way home this afternoon. But we don't do chips or sugar-drinks at all. I'm thinking, "Sleep late, have asparagus and eggs (sans Benedict - too much butter), maybe some fruit and yogurt for breakfast."

So, all you Southerners, fear not. Enjoy a nice healthy breakfast. You will thaw out LONG before we do.

Bill Moyers with David Simon

What I find discouraging is that even journalists like Bill Moyers and a TV producer likeDavid Simon who have the connections, the microphone and the attention of millions of people cannot seem to make a dent in the intransigence of Congress or fully expose corporate greed in all it's ugliness.



Thanks to Truthspew for the link.

United Nations' Committee on Rights of the Child Scathing Report on the Vatican and Catholic Church

I will not comment here; the excerpts speak for themselves, I think.

Here are some excerpts (which means they are taken out of the document and are not entirely "in context" -  follow the link to read the entire document):

United Nations

Convention on the Rights of the Child

Committee on the Rights of the Child 

Concluding observations on the second periodic report of the Holy See

While also noting as positive the progressive statement delivered in July 2013 by Pope Francis, the Committee is concerned about the Holy See’s past statements and declarations on homosexuality which contribute to the social stigmatization of and violence against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender adolescents and children raised by same sex couples.

The Committee also urges the Holy See to make full use of its moral authority to condemn all forms of harassment, discrimination or violence against children based on their sexual orientation or the sexual orientation of their parents and to support efforts at international level for the decriminalisation of homosexuality.

The Committee urges the Holy See to adopt a rights-based approach to address discrimination between girls and boys and refrain from using terminology that could challenge equality between girls and boys. The Committee also urges the Holy See to take active measures to remove from Catholic schools textbooks all gender stereotyping which may limit the development of the talents and abilities of boys and girls and undermine their educational and life opportunities.

The Committee is particularly concerned that in dealing with allegations of child sexual abuse, the Holy See has consistently placed the preservation of the reputation of the Church and the protection of the perpetrators above children’s best interests, as observed by several national commissions of inquiry.

The Committee nevertheless expresses its deepest concern about child sexual abuse committed by members of the Catholic churches who operate under the authority of the Holy See, with clerics having been involved in the sexual abuse of tens of thousands of children worldwide. The Committee is gravely concerned that the Holy See has not acknowledged the extent of the crimes committed, has not taken the necessary measures to address cases of child sexual abuse and to protect children, and has adopted policies and practices which have led to the continuation of the abuse by and the impunity of the perpetrators.

Child sexual abuse, when addressed, has been dealt with as grave delicts against the moral through confidential proceedings providing for disciplinary measures which have allowed the vast majority of abusers and almost all those who concealed child sexual abuse to escape judicial proceedings in States where abuses were committed;

Immediately remove all known and suspected child sexual abusers from assignment and refer the matter to the relevant law enforcement authorities for investigation and prosecution purposes;

Amend Canon Law in order for child sexual abuse to be considered as crimes and not as “delicts against the moral” and repeal all provisions which may impose an obligation of silence on the victims and on all those that become aware of such crimes;

The Committee welcomes the indication that the Holy See pays particular attention to promoting the dignity of women and girls. However, given the extent and the devastating impact of domestic violence on children and the fact that domestic violence often has a gender component, the Committee is seriously concerned that during the 2013 Commission on the Status of Women, the Holy See objected to a draft final text proposing that religion, custom or tradition should not serve as an excuse for States to evade their obligations to protect women and girls from violence.

The Committee recommends that the Holy See ensure that Canon Law provisions recognise the diversity of family settings and do not discriminate children based on the type of family they live in.

The Committee urges the Holy See to properly investigate all allegations of children and adolescents being separated from their families by means of psychological manipulation and ensure that those responsible for manipulating adolescents be held accountable and cease their activities.

Homophobia and Oppression

Thanks to Wicked Gay Blog for this.




And an interesting additional story about America's No Promo Homo Laws - kinda like Russia.

I Need Some New Exercise Equipment

My old exercise equipment is getting a bit shabby.

Addendum, as noted in comments below:
The old snowblower crapped out yesterday so we had to shovel the entire 260 foot driveway plus the turnaround and the walkways, deck and stairs, with the yellow and green manually operated snow removal devices.

Classic Verbal Gay-bashing by Hetero Bully Grimm.

 I must say that when I first heard the story about NY Congressman Grimm's threatening statements to NY1 reporter Michael Scotto, I thought to myself and said out loud to Leon, "He sounds exactly like he's a big macho heterosexual bully trying to intimidate a gay guy."

I also said, "Every news reporter should be outraged that one of their colleagues was treated that way."

 Read more here

Now, when I said that, I had no idea that the reporter, Scotto, is in fact gay. Just that in comparison to bully Grimm he looked like a mild-mannered chap, considerably less intimidating and probably in Grimm's view, an easy target.

I also thought that as a reporter, Scotto was quite gutsy to ask Grimm about the campaign contributions issue. After all, that's what reporters do, and the good ones are gutsy, trying to get the scoop on a story. Michael Scotto was merely doing his job.

Despite what Scotto and his colleagues say about Grimm's threats not being gay-bashing, I can only say, as a gay man, these are the kinds of things we have heard before - and always aimed at someone who is gay or perceived to be gay - and always coming from some macho, misogynistic, heterosexual homophobe of a male type asshole.

Despite what the straight men who offer their opinions might think - straight men RARELY IF EVER GET IT. They say, "well that's just how men talk to other men, other straight men, when they get angry."  That misses the point. The language and the bullying is in its essence, homo-hating. It equates being "man enough" with being able to intimidate, fight, hurt, maim and kill the weaker male. The basis of this is the same as what underlies hate crimes against gays.

The fact that it rings so true - the posturing, the threats, the language are classic hetero bullying tactics - makes it definitely a hate act, in my opinion.

What do you guys think?

More Closet Pics - Day Three

OK, so it ain't pretty. It's "basementy" - like for a basement.

Couldn't wait to stock the shelves.

I'm all out of this beverage.

But there's wine.

So see, with light switches, telephone, garage door opener and electric outlet, this wasn't just a measure and cut project. And don't forget, this materials are salvaged, found, left over, re-use. Like the clothes hanger rod which was an old window washing pole.

The project isn't quite finished. There is some trim to add and we're trying to decide whether to paint it. I think Leon should "wall paper" with his collection of old license plates.

I Need Subtitles for Life

I am not a stupid person. I went to college and even managed to get a Master's Degree.

Leon has dyslexia but is probably smarter than me in many ways.

He watches a lot of BBC TV and has no trouble understanding English. I have trouble with Downton Abbey on occasion and once even turned on the closed caption so I wouldn't miss anything.

Leon pointed out this Budweiser commercial and said "It's cute, watch it."

So I did. I said, "Yeah, it is cute. But I didn't get the story. The lady wants to adopt a puppy. The puppy went to say goodbye to the horse. Then the cute guy who had the puppies gives the puppy to the lady. The lady and the puppy drive off with the husband. Then the horses come and attack the car as they're driving off. And the puppy gets out and runs with the horses. I don't get it. The story doesn't make sense. And what are they advertising anyway?"

Leon: "You need subtitles for everything in your life."

This Old House - Carpentry Project Day Two

This could have been a project for This Old House - before it became This New MacMansion. We live in this old house and we're building some shelves and a closet next to the basement stairs.

Except for new 2x3s we are using salvaged wood and scrap - some old shelving and plywood. We're not using drywall because we want to spend as little as possible on the project. So nothing is exactly the right width or length, so lots of measuring and cutting and getting around the electricity and switches.

The shelves will be open to the stairs so I can store my canned goods, and grocery items that I stock up on when they're on sale.

We moved the propane heater to the far side of the closet and had to reinstall it. I underestimate Leon's talents and attention to detail. He ran the propane line neatly down one side and secured it with copper brackets.

The closet, more like an alcove without doors will be for coats, the recycle bin and whatever else.

And there is a cubby hole for the air compressor.

Tomorrow or the next day: walling up the project. We are hoping we have enough plywood. And that we can cut it without wasting any.

Carpentry Project Phase I

We got all the stuff we needed for this minor project at HomoDepot. Some stuff we already had or was salvaged from Leon's doing home/garage/basement clean up jobs.

So tools in hand we set out to build a closet and shelving between an existing wall and the basement stairs. We had already removed the existing wall down to the studs.

Our friend Dave came over to help with the rewiring of a couple of outlets before we started the carpentry.

On TV home makeovers they do an entire house remodel in a weekend. Issues like we have to deal with are, for them, insignificant. For example:

The basement floor is not exactly level.

The cordless drill battery dies after drilling six holes and screwing six screws.

The drill bit breaks.

The battery falls out.

The level gets misplaced.

The new switch plate gets misplaced.

That new 90 degree angle screwdriver attachment gets misplaced.

We spend lots of time looking for the above.

The plywood that it took ten minutes to get into place needs to be notched out and getting it out is more difficult than getting it in.

The power drill/screwdriver is too big to get into the available space.

Etc.

After all that, we are quite proud of our progress after day one.

On the front half here will be shelves on one side open to the basement stairway and storage below the shelving open to the garage side; then on the back half there will be a closet open to the garage side.

Tomorrow we both have a busy schedule, so we'll get back to the project as soon as we can. How do those home makeover people do it?

Grammy Awards - A Most Inspiring Moment

Just when you think hate may be winning just a little (see Huff Post), something happened at the Grammys that has to inspire hope for so many. (Unfortunately the video source has been deleted and the link is no longer accurate).



And then there's this reflection (Stranger Passing) on how far we've come.

Gay Popcorn Movies 5 - (not so gay) Marriage Italian Style (1964) "Matrimonio all'italiana"

A Netflix movie. One that is definitely NOT "TRENDING" - god that's a word I hate.

This past Saturday Leon had gone to the camper show in Boston with Dave and I was home with Benni. It was cold, damp, snowy and a rather good day for a Netflix movie. Benni doesn't care what movies we watch - he is so agreeable on that score and doesn't insist on Lassie re-runs - so it was my choice.

I was in the mood for an Italian classic - one I hadn't seen - Marriage Italian Style with Sophia Lauren and Marcello Mastroianni. The movie is in Italian (actually Neapolitan dialect) with English subtitles.

I'd seen Divorce Italian Style and Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, many years ago and loved Sophia Loren from the first. Why are women like Sophia Loren admired by gay men so often. Is it because she is her own person and this comes across in her films?

In this movie, Sophia as Filumena, portrays a woman who is strong and determined. Even though Filumena lives in a society where women have strict, very traditional roles, she is able to transcend the confines of the culture, misogyny, and the often limiting roles of prostitute, mistress, mother and wife by turning her subservience into power.

I am reminded of the movie, Before Stonewall and what I saw as the depiction of some gay men who wore the roles they were relegated to like badges of honor. They too turned their oppression into power by proudly being themselves; and their ability to be their own person took power away from their oppressors.

Perhaps these symbols from the past still have plenty to say to us today.

A Sunny, Mild Winter Day - Midwinter Report

Winter goes on. And on. Not my favorite season. Not much is new or exciting. That's not necessarily a bad thing.

It was a pleasant day today. A hike with the dog and Leon and Dottie and her dog Katija.

Vacuumed out the disgusting interior of the Honda Fit. Between the dog and winter crud, the car never stays clean in winter.

Did some writing and getting the basement ready for a project - Leon wants to put in a closet and some shelves so I had to move a bunch of "stuff". We will definitely have to go to Homo Depot because I don't have enough scrap lumber for this project.

Don't anyone hold your breath - it's going to be weeks (hopefully not months) before this is done.

Those Home and Garden shows make projects look SO easy. Everything goes smoothly. They have all the right tools.

When we do anything the drill bit we need is broken or breaks, the saw blade is dull, we don't have the right size screws, we cut the 2x4 one sixteenth of an inch too short, paint gets on the bottom of a shoe and the carpet, the fixture is too big or too small, another trip to the Depot...you get the picture.

There's always FOOD. That is what I do best.

Made some home made pasta tonight with cauliflower and tuna. Mostly because I had cauliflower in the fridge and several cans of tuna in the cupboard. I was actually pleasantly surprised at how good it was.

It's not often I make home made pasta, but I should do so more often. It's fairly easy and the results are so deliciously different from any dry box-pasta. Try it.

Details on my blog: Dinner's Ready.

From the File Cabinet: Daniel at Boys' Beach - Continued

Daniel At Boys' Beach - Continued

            After a short swim and getting Bruno frustrated as he attempted to fetch the rocks that the guys were tossing into the water, they all went back to their spot on the beach.           

            “This is too wonderful for words,” Frankie said for probably the tenth time as they sprawled out on their towels. “What about lunch? I’ve got tuna salad or tuna salad. And some sliced tomatoes.”

            “Sounds good,” Danny said.

            Frankie passed out sandwiches and Jay fed Bruno a snack.

            “It’s great here,” Danny said. “I could get used to it.”

            “As much as I love it here, I doubt that I could live here,” Frankie philosophized. “Especially in the winter. They say the unemployment rate is like eighty-percent or something and there’s nothing to do but drink.”

            “Like I said, I could get used to it.” Danny was only half-joking. “I like the solitude – or at least the opportunity to have solitude when you want it.”

            Jay said, “There’s such a thing as too much solitude. And none at all in the summer. But, the way prices have skyrocketed, we couldn’t afford to live here anyhow. Not unless we had bought a place back in the early eighties and could rent it out for most of the summer, but neither of us had money back then either.”

            “Why rent out your place in the summer, when that is when you most want to be here? No, coming out here once or twice a summer and staying at the campground is fine,” Frankie said, “It makes the time we’re here special. Oh, that reminds me, I want to got out on the schooner Acadia sometime this week. Got to do that at least once a year,” Frankie said. “Love being out on a sail boat and listening to Captain Bill’s stories. Too bad he doesn’t do gay naked cruises.”

            “Yeah, that would be cool,” Danny said, “But I’d love to go out for a sail with you guys, naked or not.”

            And so went a glorious afternoon at the beach. It was one of those September days that seemed too good to be true. Even this late in the season Boys' Beach had a good-sized crowd and it was busy with guys cruising the dunes and walking out into the marsh. Danny and Frankie each slipped on some ear-phones, Danny listening to rock music and Frankie relaxing to the samba rhythms of Sergio Mendes and Brazil ’66.

            It was past three-thirty when Frankie observed the exodus from the beach had begun. “Looks like the boys have to get back to their B&B’s or hotel rooms to take showers and get ready for Tea Dance. I, for one, am not ready to leave. It’s just too nice. We’ll do cocktails at camp while the steaks are on the grill.”

            “T-dance is mostly boring S&M. You know, the pretty boys doing ‘Stand and Model’ and the ‘Steroid and Muscle’ types flexing while lifting their Michelob Lights. Besides, the beach is just getting interesting when the tourists are heading for the Boatslip,” Jay said. “As a matter of fact, I’m going for a walk to see if anything interesting is happening now. Be back in a few.”

            Frankie held on to Bruno’s rope to keep him from following his favorite Daddie. Several guys on their way back to town walked past their spot. Daniel, who was now lying naked on his back, stretched out to grab his pack of cigarettes. The pose would have made a great Honcho centerfold and the motion made a few guys stop to gaze on Daniel’s sexy body.

            An older gent walked into his buddy who had stopped in his tracks and they both nearly fell on top of Danny as they awkwardly attempted to regain their balance. Jay was headed back from his walk.

            “Hey, Danny,” Jay said, “I’m sure if you take a stroll in the dunes you will surely get molested. Just warning you. Of course, I had nothing to worry about.”

            “I’ll just stay put. I don’t think I much care for cruising the dunes.”

            “Maybe you’d change your mind if you gave it a chance,” Jay said.

            Just then, a cute guy, about Daniel’s age, walked right up to Danny and got his attention.

            “I just want to thank you for being here today,” he said. “You are beautiful and I really enjoyed looking at you all day. You made my day. Thanks.” He didn’t wait for a response. He just continued down the beach.

            Danny couldn’t have responded if he wanted to. He was speechless. Embarrassed. Dumbfounded. He wasn’t used to this kind of attention. Coming from friends and strangers alike. Only moments later, another man, slightly older than the first, walked up to Danny and introduced himself.

            “Hi! I’m Adam and I had to talk to you before I left the beach. I saw you earlier when I was walking by. I want to have sex with you. Here’s my number. I live in town. Call me. Tonight. Seriously.” Adam handed Daniel a piece of paper with his info. “I’d love to get together and I am willing to please.”

            Daniel, still caught off-guard, just mumbled, “Oh, right, I’m Daniel, uh Danny, thank you, I mean, oh, uh, I don’t know, thanks anyway.”

            Frankie and Jay just laughed and smiled knowingly at Danny's embarrassment.

            “You don’t even know what you’ve got, do you, Danny? Jay asked. “You could have any guy you want, do you realize that? Ah, Danny, what the average gay man would give to have your looks or, if not, to have you for a night.”           

            “Well," Danny answered, "I don’t know. These guys scare me. I don’t know why, but having guys come on to me, it’s just all pretty new.” Danny was clearly blushing beneath his tan.

            “You’ve got Adam’s number. Go for it Danny. Have some fun,” Jay encouraged.

            “Well, we’ll see,” Danny said, "we'll see."

To be continued

From the File Cabinet - Boys Beach

A little something to take the chill out.

DANIEL AT BOYS BEACH

            Daniel was a friend of Jay and Frankie’s who they had invited up to spend a few days at camp in PTown. Daniel had moved east from Ohio after breaking up with Loretta, the woman he lived with for a couple of years. She’d been possessive and controlling, he finally realized, and knew that only distance would give him the freedom to start a new life without her – a life that included the realization that he really preferred men to women. Jay had worked with Daniel for six years now but this was the first time Daniel had an opportunity to stay with Jay and Frankie in their RV.

            Daniel was in his late twenties and not quite sure of himself when it came to meeting or dating men. He’d had one boyfriend, now an ex-boyfriend and their tempestuous relationship had made him something of a loner. Because of his shyness, Daniel could easily be taken for being aloof. In a place like Ptown, aloofness was normal and even considered desirable – or at least it was a quality that made some men very desirable in the eyes of certain other men.

            Daniel was desirable in his own right, aloof or not. He was about 5-foot-ten, nicely tanned and, despite the fact that he never went to the gym or worked out, he had a perfect physique: big-boned and solid, his arms and torso were those of an Olympic swimmer. His body was decorated with just the perfect amount of dark hair that shouted masculinity without any of the negative qualities of hirsuteness. Daniel did not have the abs of a gym rat, but his belly was flat and taut; a dark treasure trail led from his navel and disappeared into the jeans that hung seductively on his hips and bowed out slightly in the front so that from the right vantage point one could observe a tease of pubic hair. His angular facial features, his cheeks and jaw were accentuated by a sexy 5 o’clock shadow at all hours of every day. His hazel eyes were constantly smiling though his lips were more reserved and showed little emotion.

            “Get your things together, Daniel, we’re heading out to Boys Beach.” Frankie announced.           

            Jay and Frankie and a few of their friends always called the gay section of Herring Cove “Boys Beach” though other Provincetown regulars had other names for the popular spot. It was a relatively remote beach, way past the life-guarded area. It was a good half hour walk from the parking lot or the bike rack and even a bit longer if you hiked out the breakwater from Pilgrims’ Landing to Long Point.

            “And don’t forget to bring plenty of water and your suntan lotion. You wouldn’t want to burn your delicate parts,” Jay added.

            “I’m ready,” Daniel said, dressed in only a pair of cut-offs and holding a rolled up beach towel. “I stuffed a jug of water, some lotion and my cigarettes in here. That’s all I need.”

            Jay and Frankie and their dog Bruno were loaded down like they were going on a desert safari. They had knapsacks, a cooler filled with sandwiches and Diet Coke, a pile of blankets and towels, a beach umbrella, a large thermos jug of ice water, a dog bowl, a leash, and a ten foot rope to keep Bruno from wandering. Somewhere in the pile was a book, a cassette player and the Provincetown Magazine. Bruno had his own saddlebags for water and food and toys. The four of them hopped into Jay’s truck and drove to the Herring Cove parking area.

            “I’ll carry the cooler,” Daniel offered, “and the umbrella, if you like. I don’t mind.”

            Daniel, carrying the cooler, the umbrella and his towel looked even more toned and gorgeous than usual. His bare feet and legs were nicely tanned and his abs glistened with a mere hint of sweat as he walked the beach, effortlessly toting the Igloo cooler. Jay, Frankie and Bruno, in contrast, looked like they were on a month-long expedition.

            The guys made their way past the various groups of sunbathers: past the families with kids, past the Lesbians with kids, past the topless Lesbians, past the naked straight couples and past the gay men with swim suits, around the dunes and to the section of the beach where naked gay men were scattered like castaways. Some single men, some in pairs or groups, soaked up the sun; others were reading books or the daily newspaper, while others frolicked in the waves or strolled nonchalantly along the water’s edge, picking up colored stones or dishing about last night’s tricks.

            “OK, this looks like a good spot,” Frankie said as he dropped a load of beach paraphernalia on the sand. Bruno looked relieved to finally take a rest from the long hike.

            Jay said, “Fine. Looks good. And there’s plenty of eye candy to boot." Frankie and Jay spread out a large blanket and arranged some rocks along the perimeter to prevent an unexpected gust of wind from churning it up. Jay hoisted up the rainbow colored beach umbrella and tied the dog to the center pole.

            Frankie and Jay removed their shorts. “Ah, finally, free,” they both said in unison. Frankie added, “The glorious freedom of being naked on the beach. Has to be the next best thing to heaven, maybe better.”

            “Danny boy, don’t worry about the park rangers,” Frankie said, “they usually just give a verbal warning reminding you that the National Park does not allow nudity. Mostly the rangers don’t go looking for trouble and pretty much ignore the nudity, unless someone gives them flack. Nudity’s been a tradition here for years.”

            “I don’t know about that,” Jay said, “I heard that they’ve got a new head honcho this year and the rangers are under instructions to issue tickets and collect fines if they want to keep their jobs. But it’s after Labor Day, so they might be short staffed and we’ll probably be OK. Besides, there’s usually plenty of warning when the rangers come down the beach on their ATVs. Most guys give a shout and a heads up if they spot a Parkie. Just keep your shorts handy.”

            Frankie said, “I remember when the rangers actually used to patrol the beach on horseback. Maybe that’s what made it so difficult to enforce the no-nudity rule. Much easier to spot a Mounty than a dune buggy.”

            “Well, guys, if you don’t mind I’ll just spread out my towel here and catch some sun. Give me a holler if I need to cover up,” Daniel said as he laid out his magic carpet on the sand about a dozen feet from Frankie and Jay. Frankie didn’t show his disappointment with the distance Danny had decided to put between his towel and their blanket. He had been hoping to keep a closer eye on Daniel’s beautiful body.

            “You never have to cover up, if you ask me,” Frankie said, “but if I see a ranger I’ll let you know.”

            After an hour on the beach, Daniel needed to cool off. There hadn’t been any sign of a ranger, so he walked bare-assed down to the water’s edge and dove in. Bruno, eager for a swim also, tugged at his rope and nearly took the beach umbrella down in an attempt to follow Danny. Frankie got up, untied the dog and the two of them walked down to the water to join Daniel. Jay followed and jumped in before Frankie even got his knees wet. Frankie was trying to adjust to the cool temperature of Herring Cove as Jay sent a cold splash into his face.

            “Hey, cut that out!” Frankie complained.

            And so went a glorious afternoon at the beach. It was one of those September days that seemed too good to be true.

(to be continued)

Father Robert Nugent, New Ways Ministry Died Recently

Father Robert Nugent, SDS,one of the first Catholic priests (co-founder with Sister Jeanine Gramick, SL) to establish a ministry to the nation's LGBT Catholics died recently. While New Ways Ministry is not necessarily known to many, they did work tirelessly to bring the lived experience of LGBT Catholics into Catholic thinking and dialogue. They published informational materials and books and educated the clergy, hierarchy and lay people about LGBT issues; New Ways espoused something of a "liberation theology" that made room for LGBT Catholics to take their rightful place at the table.

It's unfortunate that too few bishops and cardinals and popes were paying attention or taking him seriously.

Link here - In memory of Father Robert Nugent, co-founder of New Ways Ministry.