Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Gay of A Certain Age - For the Record

Say! I just found an essay I wrote a little while back about growing up and the music I listened to and I thought it might be fun for yous guys to read in a two-terlet-visit scenario!  It's a little long, but I think it says something very life changing and super important about the question of becoming gay because of our influences VS being attracted to certain things because we are already gay.  ...or maybe it's just a cute read...  You decide...


When did I meet Lovely Rita Meter Maid? How did I get The News of the World?  Where did I learn to Bungle in the Jungle? Who introduced me to the music world as I know it?  Without holding one class, it was my older sister by six years, Grace who taught me what music is, rather, it was her unattended album collection that did.  I imagine it happened the same way with many other people; they entered the tuneful world of rock and roll when they sneaked into forbidden territory, their older sibling’s room, and played their albums at risk of death.  I confess that I was a young ditcher.  I used to skip school early in my educational career because I was bored.  I preferred to stay home and watch the soaps and get into Grace’s trove of auditory delight.  I learned all the words to all the songs on the Beatles’ red and blue double albums, I twirled like a drunk monkey to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors and even dabbled in the world of Jethro Tull.  I felt super naughty when I sang, “It’s four o’clock in the morning, DAMMIT, listen to me good…” with Captain Fantastic.  I felt superior when I tied my mother down along with Freddie Mercury & Queen.  All of this happened before I entered the third grade.

            I wonder what people with no older brother or sister do.  Where do they get that intense education from?  Their parents?  Hopefully, they have some young aunt or uncle who lets them hang out.  I don’t know how my sister clued in, it certainly wasn’t my parents. If that were the case, I’d be writing about Vikki Carr and Freddy Fender (both of whom I came to appreciate at a more mature age).  All I know is that she had great taste and fantastic dialing skills.  I was much too young to buy albums of my own and wouldn’t know what to buy.  My sister on the other hand, was old enough, but with a limited income.  She didn’t let a lack of cash stop her, though, she took to winning albums from radio stations across the city.  She knew how to work that random caller number mojo.  I remember not understanding why she was so upset when she won Queen’s A NIGHT AT THE OPERA, but instead was delivered the soundtrack to THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY because they had run out of Queen albums.  All I did know was that I had a double album to listen to that wouldn’t get me in trouble.  I learned all the songs on that soundtrack and didn’t even see the movie ‘til ten years later on Showtime; it wasn’t good.  Because of my keen sense of observation, a little later, I came to understand the difference between the brilliance of Freddie Mercury and the crap that was “Trapped in a Stairway” by Paul Jabara.  That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy breaking into a crap song, disco or not.  Therein lies a conundrum, why could I tolerate disco, even though it wasn’t on my sister’s curriculum?  Where did I learn that?

            How could my sister’s fine taste have rubbed off on me, but I still liked disco?  That brings me to my queer query.  Right behind my sister was my older brother, Benny Jr., he was only one year younger than her and had albums of his own.  Why didn’t I gravitate towards his 33LPs?  They were just as available as Grace’s when I had the house to myself while they were at school.  Was it because I faced a penalty worse than death; a PAINFUL death, if I was caught?  I don’t think so.  I was very careful about not getting caught; everything back the way it was, no fingerprints and the volume knob exactly at the right setting.  Even though I was cautious, I could not plan for everything, like the one time my cousin Tony framed me for a misfiled Twisted Sister album.   I didn’t see that one coming, but I did see my brother coming at me angrily.  Despite that beating, I don’t think that answers why I was not drawn to his Ted Nugent, Black Sabbath, Van Halen and Scorpions the way I was attracted to Grace’s Carpenters, Billy Joel, Elton John and Steely Dan.  Was this a clue that I had “different sensibilities” than my male heterosexual brother?  More sensitive “sensibilities”? Was this a clue that I was gay?

When I bought my first album with my own money, as a youngster, it was CHIPMUNK PUNK.  I found it age appropriate and satisfying because it was cute versions of the songs I already knew!  Then came MTV to further shape my musical mind.  As I aged, I still leaned towards my sister’s tastes with Heart, Pat Benatar, the B-52’s and Boston, while I was familiar with my brother’s Ratt, Quiet Riot, Ozzy Osborne and Judas Priest by association.  Then I started going in my own direction, discovering groups before Grace did, or didn’t even care to follow like Devo, Men at Work, The Cure and Duran Duran.  Later, I glommed onto Elvis Costello, World Party, INXS and Depeche Mode all on my own.  Now that I look back and see where my musical tastes originated, I also see
that some equally present brotherly influences were simply spurned, which makes me wonder if my sexual orientation steered me in one direction more than the other. I know some factions would suggest that my sexuality was shaped by the musical influence, like I wouldn’t be gay if I had listened to more Iron Maiden and less Linda Ronstadt. I’m certain that’s not true. Whatever the answer, I am definitely sure that while, just like the white winged dove I like to sing a song... I can still rock you like a hurricane! I am so grateful to my older siblings for their unintentional influence and tutorage, even at a cost of a punch per scratch and a kick per skip.
…but I still wonder where the hell I got the penchant for show tunes!


A family portrait with Mom, Isabel Grace, Grandma, Julie, me and Ben- with our tastes spelled out...

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Getting Out - The Ice Breaker

I had my friends Ted and Eduardo (Teduardo as Soap Fans might call them) in town and we had a lovely time.  Surprisingly, this is not a Too Busy For Love entry, but Lord knows it could have been.  We went to Dinner at Bowery Bungalow, (which I highly recommend) just before heading out to see THE GOLDEN GIRLZ at the Cavern Club Celebrity Theater
(Starring Jackie Beat, Alaska Thunderfuck, Sherry Vine and Sam Pancake)

We went DTLA for lunch at the Grand Market Cafe
and a tour of stuff & things!
(We rode the Angels Flight Railway car)

(We looked at a bunch of buildings and such!)

I took them to the Museum of Illusions

before we headed off to Dodger Stadium to catch Cirque Du Soleil's LUZIA

We had a brunch time adventure at Mel's Drive In with fellow Chico's Angel, Ray Garcia, 

before stepping next door to the Hollywood Museum for the BATMAN Exhibit.

and then some...

Then, it all ended up in this Getting Out entry... We finished the weekend at the Gold Coast bar in West Hollywood, where we had a great time, sipping dainty drinks

shooting stick
and having a Gay old time!

Here's the thing, though, I saw a few guys I thought were attractive and I approached them!!
Yes, I went up to them and started conversations and I was not worried about rejection or nuthin'!
The first guy was super nice, we had a lot in common then, he dropped the "My Partner & I..." bomb.  Then, another I had noticed was singing along to all the great older songs the DJ was tossing out, became my prey.  I waited 'til there was an instrumental song on, went up to him and said, "What's wrong, don't know the words to this one?"  Which playful launched us into a conversation that went nowhere fast.  An older guy I wasn't really into asked me to play darts and I took him up on it.  Just then a group of 4 beardy guys formed and I decide that I found 50% of them way attractive and the other 50% none too bad, so after I was done with darts, I darted over to my target group.  One of them immediately recognized me from the Chico's Angels and I thought, "Well, I guess they're just gonna picture me in a dress the rest of the night...", but that didn't seem the case and we had a boisterous time.  I didn't get any phone numbers or emails, but I did get a chance to experience the me of olden times, when I had enough confidence to approach whomever I found attractive without fear of rejection.  Of course, it helped to have Teduardo nudging me and I'm sure the two Angry Orchard Hard apple Ciders didn't hurt either.  All I know is that after 4 full days of Teduardo's visit, I was ecstatically exhausted.

Monday, January 22, 2018

Revenge of the Single Gay - To Hell With Christian

Honestly, people, I'm not one to wish bad things upon other people and I'm not saying I have some magical powers, but...

Remember that underwear debacle I blog about periodically?  You know HERE, HERE and HERE?
Well, after sharing things about their awful customer service and that Troll Thing that worked at the West Hollywood store, it seems someone in the universe was listening and totally gave Andrew Christian a karmic wedgie.

I was out with friends this past Friday, when I saw that the store has closed.  I can say that while I didn't wish for this to happen, I wasn't sorry to see it.  ...Especially if it means that Twat It behind the counter is unemployed.  With RounderBum opening up just two blocks away, I don't think WeHo will miss this underwear supplier.  I hope this doesn't mean that AC Underwear is totally out of business, because I'll never think there are too many underwear makers and never, ever too many underwear models!!!  I only wish that all underwear manufacturers would have nice & warm customer service.

Goodnight, Andrew Christian, where ever you are.

Sunday, January 14, 2018

He Don't Even Know - WinWinning

He is technically not a fantasy man,
because he's an actual person and that's actually his name,
But He Don't Even Know he's my boyfriend.

I decided to make him my 
He Don't Even Know man
today because of my recent entry on 
Andrew Christian underwear.
Arad is an Andrew Christian Underwear model.
(He may have other, more daring pursuits that you may Google
at your own discretion)

He's just so handsome...

And freakin' hot...

but what draws me to him most is his winwinning smile.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Gay of A Certain Age - Bulgy Impact

As a Gay of A Certain Age, it's nice to know that I can still have an impact!  
As you may recall, almost a year ago I posted about bidding in an auction on a basket of Andrew Christian underwear then the store refused to exchange the UNOPENED incorrect sizes to my size, leaving me having bid over $100 on 2 pair of medium underwear ( both were the butt floss variety, just my bad luck).  You can read about that outrage HERE.  Even though that situation was never resolved for me and I still believe Andrew Christian has the worst customer service AND that slithery store clerk is still a filthy nut sack in my eyes, I was pleased to see a bundle of Andrew Christian underwear at another auction recently.

Why would I be pleased, I ask for you?  Because all of the underwear in that bundle was the same size!!  

Yes!  Now whomever bid on that prize, knows what size they are won't have to walk in to the viper pit on Santa Monica Boulevard to be humiliated by the gross store clerk with an attitude.  
I'd like to believe my blog post read by 12 people had something to do with that improvement in their charity involvement!

To whomever won this prize; You're welcome!  Because as a Gay of A Certain Age, I also know how important it is to wear underwear that fits!!

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Gay of A Certain Age - From Colt To Stallion

I finally did it!!  I broke free from Colt Men calendars!!
Why would I do that you ask?
As you may recall, I posted a little while back HERE, about being shocked and depressed when I flip a calendar page and the new monthly model is a sweet, handsome, DEAD porn star.  It's happened more than a few times and these are calendars that are printed years after the poor guys have passed, so I find it unforgivable... mainly because I know they do it, just so they don't have to pay a living model a living wage.  Don't get me wrong, I love the men of Colt...

Why, here I am telling Carlo Masi and Adam Champ just how much I enjoy their work

I've just decided that 2017 was going to be the last year that I let Colt bring me down first thing in the month!

This year I went with Raging Stallion!
(not my photo)

Once the calendar was delivered, I immediately had a few issues with it.

(Let's establish that I don't preview my calendars because I like to be surprised each month, so I really don't know what I'm getting until I unwrap the plastic wrap and see that January looks like.)

I know it's hard to get used to something new, but I had hoped for a smoother transition.  
First, it is about 5 inches longer than a typical calendar.  Granted, this thing hangs in my closet, behind clothes sometimes, but still it's a bit unwieldy. (What, Queen, you're complaining about 5 extra inches? Whaaaaat?)  Next, if you look to the pic up top, you'll see that the dates are all smooshed down at the bottom, vertically in a long horizontal strip.  I know, I know,  but sometimes I actually do look at the days and I really prefer them in their usual grid.  If I wanted to just hang posters of neked hotties each month, I wouldn't waste space on days and numbers! I mean, is this a calendar or not? 

Next, while the January man is quite a visual treat, I'm disappointed that his name is Brogan Reed.  Really?  Brogan Reed?? They aren't even trying with names anymore!  This sounds like a name high schoolers come up with when making a porn parody.  
"What's my character's name?"|
"Who's your favorite porn star?"
"I don't know, but my dad's is Logan Reed..."
"That's it! Your characters name is Brogan Reed!"
"That's kinda cheap."
"Yeah, but were in high school, who's gonna care?"

For those of you who are Gays of a Less Than Certain Age, Logan Reed was a popular porn star about 20 years ago...
(Not my photo, totally swiped from Here)

If you're going to use an obviously made up name, why not really go for it?  How about Manuel Hung, Dixon Ashe, Clutch Morgan or Hugh J'Bohner?

Maybe I'm being a little picky, but come on!  Is it too much to want to wake up on the first of the month and see a hot, living guy with a creative/original name greeting me with a smile and boner saying, "Pay your rent, fucker"?

As a Gay of A Certain Age, I'm finding that hot & sexy are coming in second to order, creativity and respect for the dead!