Fight or Fluff
OK, well I understand Alfred’s comments to my previous post in my nomination of Gay Banker as one of my favourite blogs. As Alfred notes, “His stories don't get anymore interesting than fucking guys around London.” But that is one of the reasons why I truly enjoy a fix of Gay Banker.
Maybe I am one of those incredibly boring thirty-something guys. At least I have been feeling that way lately. I have become someone who gets up in the morning, goes to gym where I work out under the solitude-inspiring ipod haze, go off to work where I work in my own office with my thinking process being my major commodity, go home, have dinner and settle before the hyponotizing gaze of the television. Bud and I have laughed, far too often, over the fact that we are often in bed by 11 on Saturday nights.
Now this is not just a product of aging, but a problem with the been-there-done-that nature of where I am at right now. I spent so many years going crazy – weekends without sleep and more pick-ups than I care to admit to myself.
Much of this changed with my being with Bud. It has been my longest relationship and we are not in an open relationship. So the impetus for going out (i.e. to prowl) is greatly diminished.
And I must admit that Montreal has kind of died on me. It is a great city, but not without its problems. There hasn’t been a new place to go in the longest time. Its so bad that a club burned down, they rebuilt it, and I can’t even tell the difference. If it burns down at least you could try to make it look a bit different.
And its poor here. Nobody likes to admit it, but there is a lot of personal and public poverty here. The streets are a shabbles, garbage is everywhere and especially in the gay neighbourhood, street people occupy most doorways at night. It is just far too depressing. And the fact that winter is a six-month long season doesn’t help.
So what the hell does this have to do with Gay Banker? Well, the reason that I love reading about him is pure escapism with a touch of nostalgia. I don’t have to worry about dealing with the trials of life in his blog. It is a pure sexual blog that I smile at either through recognition of a past event in my life or in a cheerful happiness that I am no longer dealing with it.
Blogs don’t have to have the personal or the political to be enjoyed. They don’t have to cover all aspects of someone’s life, but like Gay Banker they can focus on one portion of a person’s life.
Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t revealed things in this blog. They have become so much more difficult to hide from myself once they have been published. But no matter what I have to deal with in my life, Gay Banker always gives me a moment to withdraw into an easier realm.
Fluff is not a dirty word. Sometimes you need it. There are days that I enjoy reading Salman Rushdie and others where I can curl up quite happily with a James Patterson murder-a-thon. Both have their purposes and neither pretends to be anything other than what they are.
Maybe I am one of those incredibly boring thirty-something guys. At least I have been feeling that way lately. I have become someone who gets up in the morning, goes to gym where I work out under the solitude-inspiring ipod haze, go off to work where I work in my own office with my thinking process being my major commodity, go home, have dinner and settle before the hyponotizing gaze of the television. Bud and I have laughed, far too often, over the fact that we are often in bed by 11 on Saturday nights.
Now this is not just a product of aging, but a problem with the been-there-done-that nature of where I am at right now. I spent so many years going crazy – weekends without sleep and more pick-ups than I care to admit to myself.
Much of this changed with my being with Bud. It has been my longest relationship and we are not in an open relationship. So the impetus for going out (i.e. to prowl) is greatly diminished.
And I must admit that Montreal has kind of died on me. It is a great city, but not without its problems. There hasn’t been a new place to go in the longest time. Its so bad that a club burned down, they rebuilt it, and I can’t even tell the difference. If it burns down at least you could try to make it look a bit different.
And its poor here. Nobody likes to admit it, but there is a lot of personal and public poverty here. The streets are a shabbles, garbage is everywhere and especially in the gay neighbourhood, street people occupy most doorways at night. It is just far too depressing. And the fact that winter is a six-month long season doesn’t help.
So what the hell does this have to do with Gay Banker? Well, the reason that I love reading about him is pure escapism with a touch of nostalgia. I don’t have to worry about dealing with the trials of life in his blog. It is a pure sexual blog that I smile at either through recognition of a past event in my life or in a cheerful happiness that I am no longer dealing with it.
Blogs don’t have to have the personal or the political to be enjoyed. They don’t have to cover all aspects of someone’s life, but like Gay Banker they can focus on one portion of a person’s life.
Sometimes I wish that I hadn’t revealed things in this blog. They have become so much more difficult to hide from myself once they have been published. But no matter what I have to deal with in my life, Gay Banker always gives me a moment to withdraw into an easier realm.
Fluff is not a dirty word. Sometimes you need it. There are days that I enjoy reading Salman Rushdie and others where I can curl up quite happily with a James Patterson murder-a-thon. Both have their purposes and neither pretends to be anything other than what they are.
posted by Rye at 10:45 a.m.
1 Comments:
Actually whenever I do a posting which isn't about meeting another guy, I always wonder whether I'm in danger of alienating the people that like to read my blog. And then I see Alfred's comment and think I need to diversify. But I think there are advantages to having a tight focus. Anyway, glad to provide occasional escapism Rye.
All the best for now, GB xxx
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