Boys Home

I was completely spoiled by Bud this weekend and I loved it. As he was sick on Valentine’s Day, Bud made me a Valentine’s dinner on Friday night. Champagne and oysters to start followed by a seafood ravioli that he made from scratch. It was absolutely amazing.

As it was hovering around -20 C (that about -5 F to you Americans) we kept indoors most of the weekend only leaving the house in order to buy things necessary to stay in the house.

Went out and bought some new underwear though. Bud has this thing for Aussiebum underwear. I have to admit that they look great as they are very low-cut, but they have absolutely no room for the package. I end up at the end of the day slightly mashed up.

We got a couple of Calvins and 2(x)ists to try out. Of course buying things like this are always interesting and it highlighted yet another difference between Bud and I. He always tries on underwear first (over existing ones of course) and I always just buy. Guess his way makes more sense, just that I never thought of it.

We shopped at a gay store (i.e. porn and slut-wear) and I was just amazed at the level of tackiness that some underwear has now-a-days. Maybe I’ve just never been a daring person in underwear choice, but a zipper over the pouch just seems to be asking for trouble.

Dog Eat Dog

As I noted before, I have two young Jack Russell Terrier puppies: the girl is seven months old and the boy is just over three. I am one of those dog-lovin’ people and I can’t help but enjoy them, especially at this age.

They are two polar opposite though, the girl lives up to her identity as the bitch. She doesn’t relish being petted and really only wants any attention when she wants it (God, I love her!). The boy is a complete suck though. You can’t leave a home without him following you along.

My point here is not to talk about my dogs (which is an annoying trait of dog people – I realize that no one thinks your dogs are as exciting (or even exciting) as you think they are. What is interesting is how dog behaviour and human is not so different.

Of course Pavlov showed this long ago in his famous food/bell torture session, but it goes beyond just conditioning. Whenever the boy starts to play with anything, the bitch comes up and takes it away, even if she never liked it before he was around.. Then she’ll run around with whatever it is in her mouth, run around the boy and taunt him. But if he doesn’t show any interest in it any longer, she just drops it and moves on.

Let’s just say that I too have suffered and inflicted this behaviour at many points in my life. I always seem to want what someone else has. And while it doesn’t (often) extend to the point where I both want it for myself and want to deprive the other person of it, this idea of coveting is not foreign to my soul.

And that desire seems to fade if the other person no longer wants it. There have been many a guy in my younger years that I desired while he was with someone else (Forbidden Fruit! Forbidden Fruit!), only to watch that lust fade when they broke up. I remember craving a friend of mine’s Star Wars toy when I was ten, but when he gave it to me, I suddenly found myself leaving it in that Toybox.



And this weird existence of wanting what you don’t have and not wanting all you do is a disturbing one to me. It speaks of a general lack of content with any state of being. Is it a symptom of shallowness where I crave for desire’s sake? Is it just another version of that old joke, “I wouldn’t want to be the member of any club that would have someone like me for a member”? Or is it a more pervasive trait, something that I couldn’t stop even if I tried?

I remember seeing a TV series a number of years ago called “The Human Animal” which examined human beings and their behaviour in the same way that biologists study other animals (the story about what the size of our testicles say is one for another day) that truly fascinated me. What really got me going what not that we were so similar to them, but that we weren’t very different.

Exposure

I had an email sent to me the other day asking about Sam the Eagle over there and a related question about why I don’t post a pic of myself. The former is a bit easier to answer than the latter.

A number of years ago I was in a fraternity (yes…I was a frat boy, and yes…the stories are true) and my closest friend and I were out on the town with a bunch of people. Now being a typical 19 year old I always felt like I knew everything and I had an opinion about every minor facet of life. Well, in a drunken haze while I was going on about something or another, he called me “Sam the Eagle”. Let’s just say that the general consensus was that the moniker was apt.

At first, it was a little bit disturbing to be compared to such a pompous blowhard. But I eventually realized that they couldn’t all be wrong. It is so difficult to properly gauge how other people perceive you, and here I was given a clue. A not very flattering one, I admit, but a clue nonetheless. At first I tried to stop emulating Sam, but there is no way that I can completely extricate him out of my persona, and so he is one of my talismans. His presence is to remind myself of some of my excesses and also to not take myself too seriously.

The lack of a photo aspect is a bit different. To be honest, when I first started on this blog journey, I didn’t really think that there would be a lot of people reading this crap. But I wanted to keep myself honest here. This world is a small one, and I didn’t want to find myself engaged in self-censorship in fears that someone would recognize me.

But here is where the difficulty lies and the complexity of my thinking arises. Anyone that knows me at all would be able to recognize me from my writing here. It wouldn’t exactly be a big mystery.

Its more of a question of people I don’t know being able to tell who I am. I find it odd that some guy I see at the gym might know a hell of a lot of things about my life from reading my blog and be able to “put my face to it”. I can’t imagine how awkward it would be if I met someone for the first time only to be told that they “know” me already.

I think this stems from the fact that throughout my life I have always considered that fame is one of the worst possible destinies imaginable. I would consider it the height of misery for people to know me on a global fame level, but even a local one is not my idea of a picnic. I enjoy being able to go through my life with a degree of anonymity. Being a lawyer this is not always possible, but generally this is what I strive for. There have been many a career that I chose not to pursue because of the chance that success in them could lead to too high of a public recognition than I prefer.

And so I chose Sam. I didn’t want to use some picture that obscures my face and just shows off my body. This is not a “dating” vehicle for me but a place for my psyche to rest and reflect. I have only been at this for a very short time, but I can already see the benefit of having a record of my thoughts. I wish I had some concrete evidence of how I thought when I was 18, 22, 25 instead of just my perception of that person I once was. And to me this blog is to become a bit of my personal history.

Which brings me to the subtitle: How Did This All Happen? Its, once again in my totally self-obsessed life, a question for myself. How, at any point in my life when I look over these entries, did I end up at the place that I will find myself. These minor notations will be a map through my life. A way for me when I am old(er) to trace the little steps that lead to a great path.

To see where I went right – where I went wrong – where I went too fast – where I went too slow – and where I might wish I were again.

The Way the Ball Bounces

So Bud and I went to the Montreal Matrix basketball game on Friday night which was a part of his Valentine’s Day present. The Matrix is part of the ABA leagues which is basically the minor leagues for basketball. The game was pretty amazing. The players were not only hot but the play was decent as well.

But it really got me thinking about these people. I was a little depressed for them. Here were a group of men who were obviously loved the sport and were quite talented. But they were never going to make it to “the show”. The really talented ones were definitely too short and the tall ones didn’t have the same skill level as some of the others. And it got me thinking about the dreams of youth and the crashing pragmatism that comes with age.

We all have dreams when we are younger and we are always told that we can reach them if we try. But this does isn’t the case. For all of those that find Olympic glory there are hundreds who will never quite make it. When I was younger I was a competitive swimmer. For years I spent thirty hours a week training, lap after lap, morning and evening, all in the pursuit of an Olympic dream of my own.

But as I got older I realized that the people who did make the Olympics in that sport were typically setting records when they were ten. I was good and had a lot of talent, but I wasn’t a record breaker. Now, of course, there are those people who then train themselves into oblivion to surpass this, but I wasn’t ready to sacrifice everything else in life for the possibility that I might be able to make it.

It was a harsh moment of reality for me. When I realized that no matter what sometimes things don’t work out the way you want them to. And so I watched those players in a game that could not go on forever. Playing in a game that would not end in sponsorship deals or glory. They just played for the love of playing. And I hoped for their sake that they could keep playing for awhile because sooner or later they would come to the realization that they would have to do something else. Children and wives would enter the picture who might need more stability than that job. Bodies would wear down. Spirits would sink.

And at one time in the future a new path would have to be taken. And that change in lanes in never a simple one, never an easy shifting of perspective.

Friday Feast

Just a pic to end the week with - have a good one

Hidden in Plain Sight

I find it an interesting piece of human behaviour that we are able to ignore certain pervasive and blatantly obvious elements in our lives – but once they are pointed out, we are help but notice them. This has happened to me frequently and in numerous ways. When I learn the meaning of a new word (and yes, that still happens at my advanced age), I suddenly see it being used everywhere. When someone once remarked on the shape of my hands, from that moment on I always thought of that comment.

Perhaps the most evident example of this comes from a symbol that most of us will see everyday – a corporate logo. Now, I warn you, that once I reveal this secret, you will never be able to look at this the same way. So if you want the mystery to remain, stop reading now.

Above is the logo for FedEx. A simple logo at first glance, but a brilliantly designed one when you see its secret. Its secret is one of movement, of progression, of action – all the things you look for in a courier. It is one of the oldest symbols denoting direction in the world that I use everyday.

Can you see it? A hint – its an arrow.
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Well, now you can see it in all of its brilliance. And from this moment on, whenever you see a FedEx truck going by, all you’ll ever see is that arrow.

The Meeting

After a great Valentine’s Day, I thought a lot about when Bud and I met. And after I read Gay Empire's story today I realized that I had never put the story down in print, a deficiency I will now correct.

It was three and half years ago, but it seems like yesterday. I had gone on an exchange in my last semester of law school to Sydney. Let’s just say that it was more of a holiday than an academic excursion. I had been to Sydney before in 1999 on a working traveler’s visa and had a great time.

Before I left, my bf at the time and I had decided that we would be free to have a little fun while I was away. Of course this was on the understanding that it would only be physical rather than emotional and I was completely fine with that.

The first couple of months passed by with me really enjoying Aussie hospitality. I had worked very hard on my body before I left and I certainly made use of it. I was also preparing to swim in the Gay Games that were to be held in Sydney that November, so I purchased a pass to a local pool called the Cook & Phillip (or the Cock & Pull-it to Sydneysiders reflecting the large number of gay men there). I was swimming along in a workout in the late morning of September 11th when I stopped at one end of the pool.

I glanced up to see the back of this gorgeous man walking away from me to the sun deck outside. From my lane I could see through the windows to the sun deck and I gazed rapt in his presence as he settled into a deck chair. I immediately thought that my workout could wait; I wanted to get a closer look. I made my way to the deck and took a chaisse-lounge near him. Gazing over his beautifully muscular body in black speedos, I was mesmerized. Everything about him physically was my ideal.

But, I snapped myself back into consciousness and said, “No, you have to train!” So back to the pool I went.

Well, that didn’t last long and in a few short minutes I was back out there stealing another look. But I had a massage appointment scheduled that morning, and I wasn’t interested in picking up at the pool. I just thought, well, if its meant to be, I’ll run into him again. So off to the showers I went. Briefly afterwards, there he appeared. But my resolve remained. I got out of the shower and changed.

As I was doing my hair I saw him come out of the showers where we exchanged a smile. Walking out of the pool I was beginning to regret my decision, but that’s just the way it was going to be, I told myself. Suddenly I felt this tap on my shoulders and the simple word “Hi.” I couldn’t believe that he had somehow gotten changed so quickly (I found out later that he had thrown his clothes on and left his bag, underwear and socks in the changeroom. We had a great little conversation, but I told him that I had an appointment to get to, but that we could meet up later.

My massage was hardly a relaxing one as I was thinking about Bud the entire time and I sprinted to his apartment immediately afterwards. We had a great time that afternoon that continued throughout the night and into the next morning. And even at that moment, I knew that he was bad news. I had fallen for him instantaneously over the course of that evening. But I was with someone else in Canada. I had given him my number but decided that I couldn’t call him. “Bad News, Bad News, Bad News” was my mantra.

And it was a correct one. When he called me the next day all resolve disintegrated and from that moment on I have remained completely enraptured for him. I, and we, have our problems. We are human after all. But every morning that I look over at him, I fall in love again. Still the sexiest man I have ever seen with the biggest heart I have ever felt. I can barely believe that I am worthy of such a man.

But worthy or not, he’s a keeper.

Happy VD

Yes it is true that I my blogger profile setting wasn’t allowing comments. And it is also true that I was not getting emails saying people were trying. And yes it is true that I just thought nobody felt like saying anything. So I apologize to anyone out there who took the time to write a comment but they are lost somewhere in cyberspace.

You may all call me an idiot now.

On a happy note – Happy Valentine’s Day. To all of you with someone in your life, I hope that you spoil them. To the others, at least you can spend money on yourself instead.

On my way to work, once I get off the metro there is a Hallmark card shop right at the entrance to my building. At 7:45 this morning, the place was PACKED with people rushing to avoid neglecting those loved ones. Yes, it is sort of a sad state where you can be made to feel like shit if you don’t purchase something from a store. Ah capitalism works in mysterious and propagated ways.

Bud is getting over his flu and has recovered the ability to talk which is always a good thing. Once again I was up this morning at about 5:30. But today I did not head off to the gym. Wanted to stay around Bud for a bit this morning. He is still home from school today and is passing time with the first season of Veronica Mars. Quite a good show.

I’ll leave you today with a few photos to take your mind off your lack of a bf or to get you worked up for the existing one.

Good Morning Sunshine

Like every other Monday I am not exactly ecstatic about getting into work. But it always seems easier when I have had to work over the weekend. It wasn’t a ton of hours, but four on each day still sucks. Bud is really really sick at the moment with a terrible flu. Lost his voice as well – which has its benefits. But unfortunately it means having to serve him things. One day of being the good boyfriend helping out is fine, but after a few my evil selfish nature kicks in and I start resenting it.

But enough about my petty nature and on to the petty travails of the Olympics. Always been a big fan of the games. I am a total softy for medal ceremonies. Just seeing people who have strived for so long to achieve a certain moment and to watch them realize their dreams in the singing of a little song just gets to me.

The sport is always good too and I especially like all those Nordic and Germanic men around. Unfortunately being the winter games they are wearing a lot more than I would like, but as they say here in Montreal, c’est la vie.

Other than that, I am very excited about Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Of course, I know that it is just a made-up holiday but it’s a good excuse to make Bud happy. I hope that he likes his gifts. Unfortunately I ordered a couple of things online that haven’t yet arrived. But I guess they will just have to be “unexpected” gifts.



On a more serious side, I have been watching (reading?) with great interest the goings-on at Gay Empire lately. Love his blog, but the dueling blogs vibe that has erupted lately makes me worry for them. I can understand why the bf is not too happy about the unveiling of his life on Gay Empire. But I can attest to the fact that a blog is a great way to deal with life in general and in the specifics. But I don’t see a blog as being a very constructive method of vengeance, if that is what it is used for. The basis for a blog permeates its substance and something borne of frustration and anger may have difficulties in surviving. Just my thoughts and they may be wrong – as they often are.

Survive This

I might as well admit that I am a total Survivor fanatic. I have loved the show since the beginning and always look forward to it. This is despite the fact that it always seems to follow the same pattern not only of the game but also of the players. (But how can I resist the fact that there is always at least one hottie who spends most of the time shirtless too?) I was ecstatic about there being a new way to the game with four tribes this time, but lo and behold, yesterday on the second episode they merged into two. Back to the same-ole-same-ole once again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ll still like watching, but I wish it were different. Bud had a great idea before where each show they would have new teams so that the players would never know exactly who they could be going to the counsel with and therefore alliances wouldn’t be so helpful. But I can’t see that happening any time soon.

Other than my TV watching, I don’t have much else to say. Fridays are always great and payday Fridays are even better. Going to go out to a club tomorrow night for the first time since the summer. Needed a break from the club life and marriage certainly doesn’t make late nights all that appealing any longer.

But of course I can’t sign off without a little Friday perve.

Blade runners

Well you just had to know this level of stupidity was inevitable.



Gillette announced that they were unveiling a new six blade razor. Yes in the space of a few short years we have gone from the double “safety” razor to the three blade to the four blade to the vibrating hair raiser and now on to the ultimate in shaving….

When asked if they were planning on more blades, Gillette sated, “We don’t know what are competitors are planning.” Come on! It is getting a bit ridiculous. What’s next, a twelve blade razor that takes up half of your face.

Net Satisfaction

The online world has been an extraordinary resource for gay people. Whether it is allowing a young gay guy in a rural town the knowledge that there are others like him or if it is a virtual cruise zone, the internet has definite benefits. But there are the drawbacks as well. And I am trying to deal with one of them.

Bud was always big on having profiles on certain sites, but I have since asked him to drop them. he said he would, but I recently received an email from a friend in Europe who casually mentioned his profile. He didn't say that Bud was trying to cruise him or anything, he just mentioned a picture of Bud that he saw. Now I have read enough sites like Gay Banker to be naturally weary of the point of having a site when someone is in an (apparently) monogamous relationship. I have been screwed over before in this regard, and so I have grave misgiving about this situation.

When I discussed this with Bud before he always claimed that he had these profiles to keep in touch with people and to look at the photos (almost a perverse metamorphosis of the straight man’s claim that he only gets Playboy to read the articles). But the air of plausibility is thin and suffering from a lack of oxygen. Or maybe this is just either my own insecurity or my own projection of what I believe someone would be doing.

But what can I do about it. If I ask Bud, he will deny their existence or, if admitting to them, claim that they are harmless. But I guess they aren’t harmless to me. Whether or not he is doing anything, they bother me. And I guess the main point is that even though he knows that it bothers me, he is not willing to let them drop.

But there are always these points in relationships. Points where one person has to compromise for the other. And sometimes I am not willing to make that compromise for things. But these are typically the minor insignificant things that are not at the core. But this situation worries me as a sign of something more substantial that just a posting on a site. Is this a character moment? Am I self deluded about what’s going on? Maybe, but I think I don’t want to go down that road. I have spent many a year in the clutch of cynicism (and I am still not fully free) but I don’t want to deal with this relationship in that way. Perhaps I am a moron about it, but I am hoping for a pleasant surprise.

But that’s the strange thing about the web. In one way, it has given me this great outlet in this online diary. It has provided me with a way to get out my thoughts and feelings and also provided me with a means to provided an exposition to the path of not only my life my the progression of my thoughts. This blog gives me the impetus to think about things in my life and to be honest, it has given back to me in a more profound way than I originally thought when I started it.

And I love to shop online as it has given me great ideas. Since Bud is such a big fan of tall men, I got a couple of tickets in the mail on Friday for a pro basketball game just after Valentine's Day. Very excited to see his face when he gets those tickets, but even more thrilled to see his face when he is sitting on the floor during the game and sees the two 6 foot ten inch players. Its not the NBA, but the ABA is the best that Montreal has.

But the web has also given me the source of my most worrisome anxiety.

But you take the good, you take the bad…. Ah you know the rest of that tune.

Another day

So I had a terrible end of the week last week. Went home ill on Thursday and was not very functional until yesterday. Plus Bud was away from Thursday night until late Saturday. The place is so empty without him. Its pretty sad that I have to appreciate him when he is not there.

Still wasn’t feeling all that great by Saturday Bud and the Aussie visitors went out without me and I slept the night away. Yesterday though I was completely back on the mend. Went and saw Transamerica in the afternoon. It was a very interesting show that has stayed with me longer than just during the viewing. To be a transgendered person makes just being gay pale in comparison. While all gay people go through a crisis of identity, transgendered go through a conflict of identity. It appears to be an incompatibility rejection between the mind and the body.

Back at work today and nothing has changed. Everyone always wants something. But I also got headhunted today for a different firm. Not interested in changing but always nice to get a call like that.

But what has really got me steamed over the weekend was the reporting over the attack in a gay bar in the US. Some guy attacked gay people with a machete and a gun in a bar. Five people injured. And barely a word about it in the news. I heard it first in the Advocate online, but in all the mainstream reporting not a sound. If this had occurred in a McDonalds you can be damned sure it would have been all over the press. But it appears that we are the disposable ones.

Then it was in the mainstream press today after he killed a cop an a straigth woman. I read this morning that the alleged perpetrator had been killed by the police. I immediately thought, “He got what he deserved.” I was frightened by my initial reaction and caught myself censoring that feeling. And now I am not sure if I am more concerned over my initial “cruel” reaction or the fact that I was scolding myself for having it.

Deluded

Well I must admit that over the past few days I have been in a great mood. Part of it has to do with changing offices and getting a great secretary, but the main influence over my state of mind has to be my return to the gym.

I was a total gym bunny for a number of years spending hours upon hours sculpting my body. But with marriage came laziness and I have totally let myself go. Now, I am not a hideous person in need of the Biggest Loser (although I wouldn’t mind Bob the trainer bending over me yelling encouragement), but I have definitely lost a focus of my “hotness”.

And over the past few months, I have been back at the gym, but sparingly. Since I work long hours, the only way to ensure that I am actually going to the gym is to go in the morning. Bud doesn’t want me to shower at the gym (it is a total beat and he is especially distasteful of gym shower cruising), so I have to go in the mornings at about 6. Many a day had gone by where I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. But this week, there I have been everyday. Weights are on Mon-Wed-Fri and at least 30 minutes of cardio each day of the work week. I’ve got about 20 pounds (around 10 kilos) that I want to lose to get back to my most cut weight.

Now I have never been a big muscle man, just a nice athletic build. Being 6’2”, I have always had a problem packing on the pounds, although after turning 30 packing on the fat hasn’t been quite as hard. What I had forgotten though in all my laziness was just how invigorating a morning workout can be. I am flying on that runner’s high where I think I can do no wrong.

Thinking you can do no wrong is just the reason that I am drawn to American Idol and at the same time repulsed by parents/friends of today. I love the trainwreck of watching totally deluded people think that they have the greatest singing voices in the world, are the most fabulous thing to hit the world to date only waiting to be discovered, and only to cringe at the sounds coming out of their mouths. And I do find it hilarious.

But what is disturbing is when these people’s delusions have been reinforced by their families and friends. When I sing I think that I am totally on key, but thankfully I have been told that it completely not the case (and so when I sing, I sing alone!). But you see these poor souls who have been told repeatedly that they are amazing when they are not. What the hell is going on? Have we hit a point in our culture at the moment where we are so afraid of hurting feelings and so focused on pumping esteem that honesty has fled the building? “I’m OK – You’re OK” transformed into “I’m the best thing to ever happen to the planet – You’re the most amazing [insert description here] I’ve ever seen”.

Come on people, what good does this do. All of this encouragement and complimentary positioning only leads to a devaluing of praise. If you get a trophy for showing up to a race, what’s the point in trying to win. The brass ring works as an incentive, but also as a means to define one’s self. I am horrified when people on this show say they have spent years in voice lessons only to have a wretched tone froth out of their face. What a monumental waste of time and energy.

Now I understand the value of realizing that sometimes in order to achieve greatness, practice and dedication are necessary. But it is a grand lie to tell someone that if they want to they can achieve anything that they put their minds to. That’s bullshit. Do I think that I will ever have the body of the guy at the top? Hell no.

The defeat of realism and pragmatism (however well intentioned) can only lead for the vast majority of people to disappointment and resignation. If you honestly believe that you can achieve anything you want, what happens when you can’t get that most desired elusive dream.

Sometimes you need a Simon to tell you, “That was just absolutely terrible.”