What’s Gauche in Straight Land is Hot in Gaydom

What’s Gauche in Straight Land is Hot in Gaydom

Unless you’re being kept (lucky bastard!), you have your work-a-day world and your “out-to-score” life. Same person, two personas. And isn’t it funny how things that are considered totally gauche in straight circles are prized in gaydom? And how we shift gears to accommodate both?

In straight life, you’ve got that three piece suit and fuckin’ tie (that never fits right), or if you’re fortunate to work in a more casual environment, a polo shirt that you open only part way not to show too much skin or chest hair.

In gay life, you can’t wait to tear the shirt off and show as much skin as the law will allow, ass crack and all. And then some.

In straight life, you make sure to shake your dick real good after you take a whiz, so, heavens, you don’t stain your pants. You want to be the center of attention at a board meeting for professional reasons, not your crotch (that is, unless a member of the board likes what he sees and can help you get ahead).

Fast forward to Friday night. Out on to the town, who wears underwear? And the bigger the wet spot bulls-eye, the hotter you look. Ditto with that semi-hard-on.

A close shave for that 9 a.m. Monday morning meeting is a given. A two day growth on a Saturday night and, man, do you look rough and ready to fuck.

And deodorant? Well, you’ll get a dirty look on the subway on a July rush hour if you aren’t wearing any, but come the bar or bath house, deo is a definite no-no.

After all, he wants to sniff and lick your armpits for the sweat, not the Calvin Klein, stupid.

My Life Today

My Life Today

I intend this to be my last blog, for a while or maybe forever, who knows, though from time to time if there’s something to say l’ll say it. But l think as l have always been, this is an honest assessment of my life today

At 70 l’m okay, in fact l would say l’m better than most.  l’ve had two successful professional careers, am financially comfortable, am a published author of five works of erotic gay fiction, plus my memoirs and a compilation of my blogs, something I always wanted to do. As a lover, l have two incredibly handsome men currently in my life, both decades younger than me, one old enough to be my son, who have feelings for me  – love is often too big a word  – though one is married to a man and the other, burnt by two other relationships, is hesitant to enter another. So be it. At my age it’s bonus time. And l have my trysts, still sexually desirable at an age when most gay men resort to porn and paid sex, though I must confess sleeping around has grown boring. If one of my men could be in my life long term I’d take down all my hook-up profiles. Of the two, I love my married man because he has shared his love, without hesitation, with me. But…

In the negative column of my life is my ex-partner, ten years older than me who l will never desert but frankly has become an albatross. ln these last years l have always been there for him in his health crises, sometimes traveling the fifteen hundred miles that separate us, he at our home in rural PA, me here at my house in Fort Lauderdale. (Two masculine guys with conservative views on the glitz of gay life, we gradually grew apart as my needs for sex and attention were much greater than his and he lost interest in me.) But when it came to my back surgery two years ago, l was on my own, and now l face major surgery on both my shoulders  – my rotator cuffs are gone, baby, gone  – and will have to face them alone with the help, as best they can, to the few people l can count on in my life, my two men, my friends with benefits as I call them, and my neighbor who l’ve christened the first girl friend in this man’s gay life.

And of course, there are my three doggies, my two doxies and my adorable chihuahua terrier mix who l sometimes think is channeling some long dead gay relative. But with my girls turning fifteen this year and my little boy eleven l know the day is not far off when God will take them. My ex and l had ten dogs and one cat over the decades but losing a pet never gets easier.

And yes, l have to confess, while l never had any hang-ups about being gay, and would not switch my life for that of a suburban str8 hubbie and dad, gay life has, nonetheless, been a profound disappointment for me. I chose the wrong person for a long term relationship, though understanding we had more in common than we were different, staying in it out of habit (let’s face it guys, when you co-own property, you’re married), realizing too late l had denied myself a chance to meet perhaps someone more on my wavelength. But perhaps is big word. I was never the gregarious type but envied the guys with oodles of buddies. But in the end the sociologists say a person only has one or two true friends in their lives, so maybe I’m not as atypical as l think. Fair weather friends, or guys who cling to use you l can do without. And baby, I’ve definitely had my share of those. In the end l’d rather be alone.

All the best to you in 2018. And one final plug for my new book, “For The Love of Samuel”: an audio version should be out next month. Narrated by – who else – but egotistical me.