Happy Birthday, Harvey Milk

Well, today is Harvey Milk's birthday.  And as I sit here having my coffee and looking over at my bookshelf where I see my collection of Milk-related reading and viewing materials, I can't help but think about some conversations I've had with some younger people over the last few years, who were just making their first toe-dips into a post-Closeted life.

Mainly, a question a few of them asked me which was "Are you proud to be gay?"

Some follow it with "Why? You didn't do anything to earn it.  It's like being proud to be straight."

Except it's completely, totally, utterly not.

What is Pride?  Well, I'm proud to be Out, for one.  Proud to be openly-gay in a world culture that is still predominantly anti-gay.   Proud to be a member of a large community that continues to push against bigotry and prejudice and glass ceilings.  Proud to stand alongside my brothers and sisters of the LGBT communities, who continue to humble me and inspire me with their grace, resilience, strength and courage.  Proud that despite having spent the first half of my life not wanting to be gay, and  convincing myself that I could never let myself be gay - I am now as Out as they get, and pretty darn happy about it.  Proud that I have inspired others, as others have inspired me, to become a visible and active face for positive change.

I think of the National Equality March in 2009, when (to my greatest of joys) a number of my straight friends got on buses and joined us in Washington DC to march and protest and celebrate LGBT Equality and diversity.  It was one of those astounding moments that I, as a young kid, would never have thought would happen.   Me, with my straight friends, who out of the goodness of their hearts and reflecting their strength of character, took it upon themselves to travel to another city and State (District?) to show their support as Allies to my community.

I'm proud to know them.

Which brings it back to Harvey - I first saw The Times of Harvey Milk when I was a teen, working in a videostore.  Having that job meant I was able to take home movies to watch, without anyone knowing I'd rented them; movies I was, at the time, worried about being seen with.  Because, you know, it might clue people into the fact that I was indeed gay.  It was a fear that affected my literature tastes, too.  I wasn't confident enough to take a "gay" book out of the library or bookshop - instead, I'd read Jane Austen, Toni Morrison, Alex Haley, Amy Tam, - I was desperate for stories of triumph over social prejudice and injustice.  I'd read about Malcolm X, the Suffragette movement -  I was desperate for inspiration, I was in need of Hope.  Seeing the documentary on Harvey Milk got the gears in my head turning.  For the first time I thought "You know what...I could do this, at some point. I could actually do this."

It's one of those funny things - the folks who dismiss queer literature, queer cinema, or any form of reading on queer/Gay icons and/or historical figures are almost always the ones who need to get those messages the most.  Because if you want a reason to be proud to be a member of the LGBT Communities, all you need do is learn our collective history, read the stories of our brothers and sisters who came before us.  Inspiration guaranteed.

So here I am, all these years later, enjoying a life and embracing myself in a way my childhood self would never have thought possible.  There are many to thank for my being able to love my life today.  Many nameless, faceless LGBT people who never became internationally, or even locally, known icons and advocates, but who nevertheless helped change the world and open the doors for gay people like me  -  simply by being OUT.

More than occasionally, due to the nature of my blogging and my online presence and my demeanor which is apparently a cross between a docile pitbull and a rabid Jack Russell Terrier, I've been called an attention-whore, and variations on that theme (that theme being - "Likes attention and is also a slut", or something).
But here's my take on it - I do it because I can.  I come from a place of privilege that makes me feel that I truly have a responsibility and/or obligation to be Visible.  I can do it, so I should do it.  So I do.

Those years ago in DC I had the incredible opportunity to, completely by chance, meet a good friend of Harvey Milk's from back in the battleground days in San Francisco - a chance meeting on the street, a conversation, a dinner followed by more conversation.  Dan Nicoletta - I recognized him immediately.  He regaled us with stories about his times with Harvey, and the times after.  My heart broke and sang and broke and sang - opera, yo.
He said to me, "Harvey would have loved you."

I can only hope.

#HippieProblems

That moment when you drop a bottle of Sandalwood Oil and it breaks and spills everywhere and no matter how dedicated you were to cleaning up your bathroom still smells like an army of Flower Children.

Oh well.  Must be Tuesday.

SunnyDaze

Oh, my little canine Natalie Wood - enjoying herself some Splendor in the Grass.

What can I say? The girl loves herself some grass.

Passing Time - Canadian-Style

When the weather is balmy-beautiful and you've got some time to kill there's nothing more fun and peaceful than picking up flat rocks and tossing them into a lake.

No, Racism is Not Dead

There's something very interesting about this time in history.  We're in the digital age - all is recorded.  There are no doubt a lot of families in North America, amongst other places, that are very very lucky that their own family's sordid histories of bigotry and prejudice are not documented and accessible via digital technology.  Families of anti-Integrationists that can sleep at night because their family's history of bigotry was at its zenith in a time when documentation simply wasn't possible.

And then we have folks who don't seem to realize that things like Twitter are, well, worldwide.  And permanent.  You can delete the tweet, but you can't stop others from saving and re-tweeting and exposing you for the bigot you are.  Politicians who make bigoted speeches before congress and before their flocks of followers at conventions.  Average everyday citizens who go out to march for some cause they think they care about...holding signs of hatred and ignorance.  The bigots of decades past are , for the most part, safe and hidden away - no cameras documenting their every move and word.  But the times, they've a'changed.

We've all heard a lot of "racism is over because the President of the United States of America is black" nonsense.  Anyone who maintains even a mild level of social consciousness can tell you that after Obama's election in 2008, the crazies came out of the woodwork.  And again in 2012 - tweet after tweet, post after post, comment after comment - pure, unbridled, inexcusable racism.

And then, this happening this week.....
link here:
http://publicshaming.tumblr.com/post/48020892347/jamie-foxx-attended-the-mtv-movie-awards-on-sunday

What century is it, again?  Who are these people?  What failures of culture and humanity raised them?  Oh, well - like I said - it's the digital age.  Congrats, folks - you expose yourselves to be the scum of society.
There are folks who seem adamant about ruining their family name for future generations.  I've often been stunned at the way people like Jesse Helms are still canonized by some people - then I see tweets like these and I have to remember that bigotry is alive and well.  And the saddest thing?  It's learned.  It's not innate.  You need to be carefully instructed on how to hate.

At this point it doesn't even matter what brand of hatred you subscribe to.  You put it out there, it's for all to see.  Years from now, the grandchildren of Rick Santorum will have to live down their family name.  Look at history and see how the world works.  See how you will be remembered, and realize the harm you will inflict on "your own" by continuing to cling, for no intelligent reason, to baseless, archaic and deeply ugly bigotry.

And don't even get me started on that "Accidental Racist" country/rap song, which has to be the stupidest thing I've yet heard.

So think about it, grown adults - what legacy do you want to pass on to your children and grandchildren?  It you cling to your bigotry, remember that it's a stain that will mark your family line for a very very very VERRRYYYYYYY long time.



Little Kiwi, Out.

Gays VS Guns

Well the good news is it's still easy to get assault rifles 
         and still all-but-impossible to get married if you're gay.

so americans can all rest easy knowing that no children will die this week from drive-by lesbian weddings.
or from gays entering a crowded movie theatre armed with their husbands.

Seriously, America.  Wake up.  Last week Uruguay voted and passed Marriage Equality.  Gay couples can now legally marry in Uruguay.  On that exact same day in the USA, 34 Republicans in Montana voted to keep sexual conduct between two consenting adults of the same-sex (ie, GAYS) a criminal offense.   A felony.  Punishable with up to 10 years in prison, and a hefty fine.

Apparently Newtown wasn't enough.  Neither was Columbine, clearly.  It seems Conservative Americans don't care about their children being killed.  But they sure do care about gay couples getting married. 

#CultureFail

PFLAG Ally Award 2013

Sharon Gless, how I love you.  Before I ever saw the first season of Queer as Folk (US version), my only knowledge of "PFLAG" was from a throwaway line from the movie Reality Bites wherein the joke is simply that they pronounce PFLAG phonetically. Pffflaaag.  I laughed.  I was 13.

Queer as Folk started airing when I was beginning my senior year of high school.  My mum watched it, as did a bunch of her friends.  Tea-time conversations were about the show (tea-time conversations are a terribly Scottish thing, you see. Topics over the years have oft included The Royal Family, Princess Diana, Coronation Street, Princess Diana, 'how the kids are doing', Princess Diana, and yes, Queer as Folk).  So, it was in my senior year that I first saw what a "PFLAG Mom" looked like, as played by the inimitable and astoundingly talented Sharon Gless.

Within that year I would not only Come Out to everyone, I would know firsthand what it was like to have a PFLAG Mom, myself.  Sure, my Mum didn't actually join PFLAG until years and years later, as she (in her retirement years) wanted a new hobby and social advocacy and helping other families was right up her alley, but from the moment I told my family I was falling in love with another guy, my entire family became the picture of a PFLAG Family, and when people would talk about my Mum (and trust me, once you meet her you'll understand why so many people talk about her) they'd always say, "Oh! She's like Debbie! She's totally Debbie from QAF!"

And she is.  Thank you, Sharon Gless, for showing our parents what love looks like, and for introducing millions of people to PFLAG through your portrayal of Debbie Novotny.  A mother who loved her son so much, and cared so much about making life better for not only him, but for the countless other LGBT people in our world culture.  The show's scenes in which Debbie helps ease young blonde twink Justin's mother into her new understanding about having a gay son remain incredibly moving to this day.  For a lot of us, it was the first time we saw "Families Actually Dealing With Gay Family Members" in any form of entertainment.

On QAF, the character of Debbie Novotny was a local gaybourhood icon - everyone knew Debbie, and Debbie knew everyone.  She was everyone's mom.  I feel that, in my own life.  My mum is a local gay icon.  My mum is everyone's mum.  We're everyone's family.  That's what PFLAG is.

Rosie O'Donnell flew up to present the award to Sharon Gless, who accepted it with touching grace and humility and love.  Tears of joy creaked out these weary cynical eyes.  A lot of love in the air.

Thank you, Sharon Gless.

Attached is a portion of the introduction Rosie O'Donnell gave for Sharon.  Below that is the complete speech that Sharon Gave. Take a few minutes, soak up the love.

:-)

Also honoured last night were three members of Canadian parliament responsible for helping to pass

Bill 33, Toby's Act (Right to be Free from Discrimination and Harassment Because of Gender Identity or Gender Expression)

Yes.  Three MPP's from three different parties, (NDP's Cheri DiNovo, Liberal Party's, Yasir Naqvi, PC's Christine Elliot) who worked across aisles to do what politicians are SUPPOSED TO DO - which is not just, you know, their jobs, but to not treat human rights issues as bipartisan ones.  It was DiNovo's fourth attempt to secure Human Rights Code protections for gender identity and gender expression.  In 2012 it passed.  Groundbreaking. Life-changing.  Utterly Canadian.  I'm thrilled that my country and home province are breaking ground with their inclusive support and solidarity with our transgendered and transitioning brothers and sisters.

Dear America....

                                                             I wish you the best of luck.

                                           May the Supreme Court do the right thing.

Stairs. Shadows. Skin.

One of those lazy mornings when the sun comes through the window, and you realize you have an hour to kill, so you think to yourself, "Maybe I should drop trou and take some arsty semi-nudes on those amazing stairs with those amazing shadows in the remaining minutes that the sun is shining in this direction?"

And then you do it, and you realize that it truly was the best way to kill an hour, while you wait for your advil to take your hangover away.

X-Mas Gifts for the Soul

So the sister and brother-in-law arrived from Wales for a good old fashioned Canuck Christmas this year.  And it's been bliss.  Everyone convening at the 'rents for the holidays!

Yesterday morning had a beautiful surprise.  Mum and Dad opened their gifts from my sister and her husband, and it was the tee-shirts you'll see in the photos.  As Mum and Dad tried their shirts on, my sister and her husband removed their own sweaters to reveal that they had their own versions of the gifted-tee on underneath.

"Glad to get that off, it's bloody hot", said my bro in law.

They got the shirts because they missed Pride this past summer. Warmed my heart.  Tears in everyone's eyes.  Not just because they're doing this "for me" - but because they do this for everyone else out there that may not have the parent or sibling who gives the support that they have always, always, always, given me.  That's the beautiful thing about our Straight Allies - it shows other straight people that they can, and should, do the same.

So, here's the pic we snapped on Christmas morning.  A family of love.

Which almost made up for the Hideously Ugly Christmas Sweater Festival that has been plaguing us for the last two days.  Oh dear GOD, they're so ugly...

Yeah, You Sound Totally Well-Adjusted

*SIGHHHHHH*

Where to begin, oh where to begin?  Right. I sound like a stereotypical fag, and he doesn't sound at all like a stereotypical insecure self-hating resentful homosexual who bases his entire sense of self-worth on how "straight" he thinks he appears.  It's so funny, in a tragically sad way, how guys like this fella don't realize that in their desperation to not be "stereotypically gay" they become a neanderthalian caricature of themselves.  

Note the specific uses of "feminine" (ignore his spelling errors), "Fag", "stereotypical", "str8".  Priding himself on his belief that people can't tell that he's gay. The words, terms, and concepts that only insecure homosexuals cling to, obsess over, find a false sense of security in.

If you're going to send me unsolicited messages with the sole intention of being a trolling idiot, I'm going to blog it. I can't imagine he'd object to this being published, though, as he apparently has been Out since he was 12 and has never, at any moment in his life, been treated badly or with prejudice for being gay.  This, by the way, makes him the first gay man I've ever encountered who has not had even one negative experience in his life with regards to anti-gay prejudice.  And there's no way he's lying, because people never ever lie.
;-)

Even from a psychological standpoint his "arguments" (if they can even be called that) make no intellectual sense: Wow, "a big part" of why you never got treated badly was because you were "not the stereotypical fag?" How wonderful for you.  Now, if you as a proud gay man who's been Out since he was 12 (yes, and I'm secretly dating Prince Harry) didn't in turn stand up in solidarity with your *ahem* "stereotypically faggy" brothers, then you're not terribly brave, nor were you actually accepted by anyone.  You were tolerated.  Conditionally.  The condition being that you were not "a stereotypical fag" - instead you were a stereotypical coward who based his identity on Not Being A Stereotypical Fag.

I don't know any confident, Out, masculine gay men who talk like this guy.  I don't know any masculine gay men who denigrate and distance themselves from perceived-"femmes" - that's what insecure homosexuals do. Call me crazy, but I don't associate insecurity with masculinity.  Insecurity is for boys whose balls haven't dropped. Not men.

For some reason the Anonymous Internet Dwellers like to pretend this is merely an issue of "preference"or "masculinity" - it aint.  At no point in my entire life have I ever denigrated "masculinity" - why would I?  For me to "have a problem with masculinity" would certainly come as a massive shock to my friends, gay and straight, and a good number of my lovers.  Yeah. I said it.
There's nothing inherently wrong with masculinity, or concepts of it.  And the same thing goes for femininity.  This is something that guys like "ruggedguy" here don't seem to understand - to them, "fem" is inherently bad. It's a negative.  Fem. Stereotypical. Fag.
Yeah.  You totally sound like a comfortable, confident and well-adjusted homosexual.  The problems arise when one puts down the other to attempt to boost their own stock.
 "I'm so masculine that I hate femme guys", said no confident and empowered gay man, ever.

As for stereotypes, it seems some people mistakenly believe that "Stereotypically Gay" means one thing, and that one thing is "Sparkly and Glittery Singing Showtunes Over Cosmos".  But it's not.  I'd know he was a 'mo on the street, and that's a GOOD thing.  There are all kinds of stereotypes: I myself am a rather obviously stereotypical Shaved Head and Tattoos Gay Who Also Wears Combat Boots. You can be visibly, identifiably and OBVIOUSLY gay without being "feminine" - something these boys don't seem to want to understand.  Gay Jocks. Gay Preps. Gay Bears. Gay Thugs. Gay Geeks. Gay Artists.  Gay Gay Gay.  And being obviously gay is not a bad thing.  In fact, it's a great thing.  Diversity in Visibility, brothers and sisters.

Oh, and for full disclosure, as I have nothing to hide - here's my own Scruff profile, so you can see what this guy was attempting to comment on.

I also like his comment that I need to leave more room in myself to change.  I agree, in theory.  But I don't see how adopting limitations and imposing ceilings on myself is a positive type of change one should aspire to.  I'm not going to go through life with one hand tied behind my back, and it's a little bit funny that one would suggest that I'm not being open-minded enough to the possibility that...I should be more closed-minded?  It's like when you engage in a discussion with a Subway Preacher, who tells you that you need to be open to the possibility of becoming more closed-minded like they are.  "Don't be so closed-minded, my friend in Jesus! You need to be OPEN to the truth that I'm telling that everyone ELSE is wrong!"

Sure thing, sugarpie.

And the comment that guys like him aren't into "chit chat".  They are, apparently, into writing rather epic little essays.

Now, online apps are a great big sea of diversity.  Some looking for a quick hook-up, some looking for a long term relationship, some looking for buddies.  But they exist in a weird universe where a person will make comments on their profile that they'd never have the orbs to say in public.
"No Blacks"? Really? I dare you to put that on a tee-shirt and wear it into a bar one night.  See how many friends you make.

If his point was simply that I didn't need to list the things I didn't like (ie, the mascVSfemme divisions, the racial-prejudice-preferences, the HeySupHowzitGoingSupYo? conversation non-starters), then I could simply take it and say "Ok, I'll think about that."  That his entire tone, however, is expressed via uses of "Stereotypical Fem Faggot Homo Fag" only proves my point, and is indeed the reason my profile calls that stuff out - people's prejudices on the Online World are continuing to go unchecked.  If you want to make a point that a person doesn't need to point out the things that they're against, and want to claim that others should give themselves "room to grow", you might not want to start your conversation with "you stereotypical feminine fag."  Just a thought.

You become aware that some guys speak an entirely different language than you.
"Hey. Sup? Hey, wassup? How's it goin? Hi. Hi, sup? U lookin? Got pics? Ur close. Where u at? Hi dude, wassup, you got pics and lookin cuz Ur close?"

To those that speak that particular language, best of luck. Just remember this - rather than asking people questions it might make your own life easier if you're simply clear about who you are, what you're looking for, and what you expect. Don't ask, TELL.  And when it comes to stating your preferences, remember that not only your preferences, but the language you use in which you describe them, can also make it very clear what your prejudices are.

And your insecurities.

Here's the reality, if you really wanna pare it all down - there is no Masc, there is no Femme - there is only gay. And brothers that stand alongside one another are stronger than those who work to create distance.

A parting message from this fella, alternately left on another profile:

Thank you for making my point for me.

I kind of want to put that on a tee-shirt.

Rough Trade Chic

 
 Bruises, bruises, bruises.
Why do I find you so sexy?

It's like butch Man-Drag, essentially

. 

Consider it an extension of the "Scruff-App Look" - you got a hairy chest, a big old beard, some rad-rockin' biceps and a look that screams "I LOVE OFF-ROADING!"?  Yeah, well I've got a split lip and a black eye.  So there.  You're covered in mud? I'm covered in blood. Ish.      And it turns me on.                                                 It's like a piercing or a tattoo, only it doesn't last as long and hurts a heck of a lot more. Maybe it all stems from the complete homoeroticism of FIGHT CLUB, which I saw when I was seventeen.  Same thing with scars - I think they're hot.  Not crazy "look at how I cut myself" scars, but those ones you get from ...well, whatever it is that one does that results in them gettin scarred.  They've all got a story.  Preferably a hot one.  It's that gutter-punk factor.              Dirty Pretty Things.                                            But yeah, there's that undeniable woof-factor to a good ol'bruise.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.