How Boycotting Accomplishes Nothing Except Giving Me My Power Back

Drag queens who know my pain (see their music video below)

I’m boycotting Chick-Fil-A to take a stand against their anti-gay actions.  I’m refusing to eat their delicious chicken sandwiches and lovely golden waffle fries as a form of protest.  The ~$40 I would spend there a year is $40 less to fuel the hate machine.  I know Chick-fil-A doesn’t feel the impact of my refusal, but I sure do.

I was in the Atlanta airport a little while ago with my partner when I learned about the need to boycott.  We were in the south for a connecting flight and once off the plane I quickly scanned a map for the nearest in-airport chicken samich station.  I was so excited to eat this familiar food that in recent years had gained the status of the “only fast food I’ll eat” (Chipotle doesn’t count, right?)…and then my partner told me, “We’re not eating that.  They give money to ignorant bigots.”  Instantly I became vegan.

Not really, but I was so upset to hear the story.  And I knew I couldn’t give any more money to a company that helps crush equality.

Now of course it can be hard to precisely direct my protest at a corporation when there are layers of intention mixed up with their financial donations. But really the point isn’t to bring down the chicken fast food joint (obviously my little protest isn’t going to make a difference to their profits in the slightest).  The point is about giving me a voice to say, “Hey, there’s something wrong here and I want others to know! I will speak out when I see injustice” and in speaking out I get back some of the power that was taken from me when teachers, pastors, and parents told me that I’m a perversion of humanity. Chick-Fil-A isn’t the enemy, but they’ve made themselves a target by supporting groups who hate homosexuals. And taking my own small action against them makes me feel stronger and more able to continue the work of creating an equal world.

So screw you Chick-fil-A.  Maybe you’ll wise up eventually and realize that supporting people will be much better for you in the long run.  Target has been changing their ways and is now even producing a line of LGBT pride shirts (gasp!).  The future is inclusive and full of queers…lots of strong, happy queers who love themselves more than anyone can hate them.

Now enjoy a fabulous song by 3 beautiful women:

Interviewing Mr. Eagle (2012)

Photo by Clecio Lora

A.C. Demidont, Mr. Eagle 2012, is a 38-year old HIV Medicine physician here in NYC.  He’s an active member of the HIV medicine community in both New York and Philadelphia and has a passion for working in the field.

While recovering from a ball stretcher injury (his nuts were HUGE), I sat down with A.C. in his Hell’s Kitchen apartment to get an overview of who is and what he’s doing as a titleholder.

What are your hanky colors?
Well, anybody who knows me knows that.  Navy blue on the right is my primary hanky color; baby blue on the right, yellow on the right, mustard on the right—everything is on the right.  Everything is on the right, every tattoo, every piece of artwork on my body is on the right.  It defines me as who I am.  I use to have the hunter green on the right, but I think I’m getting a little old for that now.

What are some of your favorite pieces of gear?
My favorite on me is my red leather jockstrap with a zip in front.  When I wear it, people are surprised at how great my ass is.  And yes, there are some people in New York who haven’t seen my ass.  Another favorite is my leather surgical mask I got at the Leather Man.  It’s very dark and what I wore to the Black Party this year.

Why did you decide to run for Mr. Eagle?
Because I thought it would be a perfect combination of the things I’m interested in right now.  Mr. Eagle is a very good platform for being able to change things in the leather community and change things in the larger gay community.  I really believe in the HIV prevention messages I’m trying to put out in the world today and being Mr. Eagle gives me a greater ability to spread this message.  Plus I have a lot of gear and the Eagle is basically the only place I go out in the city, so it’s a great combination.

What is your message?
My message about HIV prevention is, if you’re not going to use condoms, figure out some other way to prevent yourself from getting HIV.  And there are other ways to do that.  Many medical professionals don’t discuss with patients all the other ways to prevent HIV infection.  The CDC has had guidelines for using anti-retrovirals to prevent HIV for over a year now and many gay men don’t know anything about these methods.  Doctors tell men to use condoms and a lot of men are saying “I’m not going to use condoms”, so there needs to be something else.  I’m not promoting barebacking and I know condoms are effective, but here in NYC men are having unprotected sex—between 2009 and 2010, the percentage of HIV infections in Manhattan went from 49% in gay men to 53%.  And it’s gone up the past 2 years.  Clearly there needs to be an alternative way to prevent HIV infections—and this is a proven method to do that.

How has your year been so far?
It’s awesome, basically.  A bit hectic and busy, but great.  People see I’m from New York and they get excited…and that’s a bit weird cause I’m not use to that kind of attention.  It’s certainly changed my sex life a lot, I can tell you that.  The events have been great and all the other Mr. Eagles before me have been very helpful…the Eagle itself has been very helpful.  I’ve had some amazing experiences and it feels great to be doing some good work for the community and for the Ali Forney Center.

How are you feeling about IML next month?
I’m feeling pretty excited about it, maybe a little nervous too.  I feel like I’m bringing my own unique perspective to the event and I have some great things going on in the community.  I’m also excited to spend more time with the other titleholders and get to know them more.  The sense of togetherness between the titleholders is great and everyone is super friendly with each other.  Everyone has stuff going on around the country and it’s great to see all that the leather community is doing for charities.  It makes me proud to be a part of that family.

What are your thoughts about the future of the leather community?
I think it’s great how many young people are coming out to bars and events these days.  I love to see all the young guys in their sports gear and representing their own fetishes.  As time goes by, Leather changes—it’s all a variation on a theme and that theme is “Leather isn’t mainstream”…so the specifics of that change over time.  Guys can express who that are and what they want and that’s hot.

Dr. Eagle is in!
Photo by Aldefino Corino

Befriending Leathermen

I randomly came across this piece about the NYC Eagle and wanted to share with all of you.  Made in 2007 (the year Rick held the title of Mr. Eagle), the short documentary explores New York’s leather bar and is guided by gear fashion expert, Christophe, Mr Eagle 2006.  The filmmaker is a super awkward nerd, but also a good journalist who experiences and examines the Eagle with an open mind (and I know deep down inside he is thrilled by the explicit overtones of the scene).

Seeing nerdy journalist guy put on gear and a ball-stretcher, get a haircut from Jake the Barber, and dare to enter the upstairs bathroom (where naughty things have been known to happen) is heartwarming and adorable.  I also love that this little piece of the Eagle is preserved on film and shows how welcoming leathermen can be to those curious about our ways.

Watch and enjoy!

The Value and Values of Middle-Aged Men

From gallery "Men Over 50" http://tommyandalan.com/

Despite society’s obsessive worship of youth, there’s still a whole lot of sexiness and desire associated with men of certain age.  Middle-aged men–or my preferred moniker, “daddies”–are arguably one of the most desirable groups in gay taxonomy with entire profile sites and theme nights dedicated to men in their 40s and 50s (see Daddy Hunt and DILF nights at your local bar).  Daddies are strong, loving men who protect and nurture younger lads; their greater life experience results in wisdom and know how about success, relationships, and passion; they are men in their prime in terms of stability and efficacy.  I’m also a known daddy hunter so I’m certain there’s some bias here

My point is: middle-aged men have value and a place in gay society.  BUT, in spite of all this, men still crave youth–both in themselves and in others.  Check out this sad story about an influential and successful middle-aged man in NYC who despite his constant encouragement to others that there is life after 40, he ended up giving up and taking his own life.

I think it’s great for older guys to believe in having a vibrant life past 40, but I don’t think their values and goals should be the same as a twink’s.  You see it in Chelsea and on Fire Island: men in their 50s wearing neon high tops and silver bedazzled t-shirts that are marketed to 20 year olds.  Now, I’m not saying middle-aged men can’t be cool or wear trendy clothes, but with all the fashion and style available, why dress like a twink? (consider the mom who tries getting away with mini skirts and tube tops in an attempt to be hot…)  Older men can be hot and stylish, but they need their own style and should leave the nonsense tight n’ bright t-shirts to the twenty-somethings (and stop lying about your age!).

I mentioned these thoughts to a couple of friends recently (who happen to be middle-aged)  and was like, “Can’t you guys just be happy being your age and not be so concerned with being young again?” and they were like, “Hold on, young grasshopper, easier said than done.  You try being 50 in a society that lusts after 25-year-old.  We’re also sorta pioneers for this demographic.”

Pioneers…?  Ah yes, because we are living in an age today when more men are out than ever before and in a society that is gradually accepting and validating them as homosexuals.  This is compounded by the fact that the generation before them–the generation who would have been trend setters and mentors–has been decimated by loss from HIV/AIDS.  So for the first time there is a group of publicly out middle-aged men who have to figure out who they are and what their values are in society.

My question to you is: What does a successful 45-year-old gay man look like?  What does he value and how does he fit in with the larger community?

Campy Queens: An Out of Date Stereotype

Learning my gay history has been a process of gathering together bits and pieces from all sorts of sources over the years.  From drag queens, art galleries, hookups, and friends I’ve learned about our struggles and victories in a casual oral traditions sort of way.  Recently through a buddy I was introduced to the amazing and campy 1970 film, The Boys in the Band.

Watch the clip.  If you’ve seen it, then you’ll remember and enjoy the smart, daring treatment of homosexual men from a film that’s over 40 years old.  If you’ve never seen it, then be surprised at how explicit they treat the topic of homosexuality in a time when you* thought all gay men were hidden and persecuted.

When I saw the film I was thrilled that this type of groundbreaking media existed.  Then I started reflecting on the campy behavior of the characters and comparing their terms and tone to the stereotypes of gay today.  Seems like 1970′s portrayal of gay men is alarmingly similar to what we get in 2012.

Before I go any further, obviously I’m making a judgement call here on what gay men should be acting like.  I don’t believe being gay necessarily dictates that you act like a queen with all the limp wrists and lisps and incredibly intuitive knowledge of fashion.  I reckon most of this is learned behavior from media and peers in combination with an assortment of social pressures.  I’m sure campy behavior has roots reaching back eons, but the reality is that being a man attracted to other men doesn’t mean you know how to pick out shoes and be cunningly vicious.  The mainstream is entertained by fabulous fags running around like sassy bitches, but in reality many gay dudes are low-key masculine studs who can be quite dull (see Disappointing Gay Best Friend).

So, back to film!  Consider how much the portrayal of women and people of color has changed since the 70s and how shocking it can be to watch the discriminatory and condescending attitudes towards these minority groups in older TV/film.  A lot of progress has been made in the past 40 years so women and people of color are treated more fairly in both media and reality (though we still have a long way to go).  But the gay men in The Boys remind me a lot of men I know in NYC and some of the homos I see on TV.  This seems odd to me and makes me think the progress towards equality for us fags is taking a really long time.

The last decade has been a productive one with marriage equality being realized in some states and a bigger focus on acknowledging homos as real and equal people reverberating throughout society (where before it wasn’t even an acceptable option).  Despite these advancements, there’s still a long way to go.  If I were making a film today portraying gay men, I think I’d lose the catty sass and instead show the incredible bonds that form between men who love each other as partners and friends.  There’s an awesome and powerful connection between men who can mix their friendship with the fun and intimate touches of sexuality.  I don’t want catty nonsense getting in the way of licking my friend

Cinq Kink, a fiction

Part One

With all its colored and connecting lines, the subway map of New York City looks like the cardio vascular system of some gargantuan Elder creature.  Pumping and pushing through the layered network of veins, the human cells of the city move in and out of the dense midtown core and out into the extremities of the boroughs.  Standing in a remote subway station late at night I trace a vein on the map until I see my stop:  14st/8^th Ave, Chelsea; the smoothly shaved balls of the Elder beast …respectively.

My trek inward to the gay center of the city is a quiet journey alone in my thoughts and anticipations of the night’s activities.  Clanking along the dark tunnels, people get on, people get off…I think about hardons and getting off.  And then suddenly the train car has a dozen other fags aboard dressed in shoes with wings and shirts with tears.  When we arrive at my stop, everyone spills out.

8^th Avenue is alive with the eager men of the city smiling and strutting in the warm air.  Cruise along this street long enough and you’re sure to find a man to put your mouth on.  At least that’s what I hear.  The filthy, explicit spirit of the neighborhood has been tamed in recent years, but spunk-befouled shadows still cling in some corners.  There’s history in those corners.

I head west through the masses, awash in male pheromones that make my mouth wet.  A skinny black guy in purple smiles at me at 16^th St. and a bearded stud with a septum piercing glares deeply into my eyes around 21st.  I think this is flirting, but no one actually stops to say, “Hey, can I lick your face?”

The crowded sidewalks thin out as I continue my path north and west to the bar with the bird over its door.  Ahead I see a small group of men that’s too large and too intentional to be going anywhere but to the Eagle as well.  I slow up and scan their butts and see tell signs of denim, leather, and hankies.  Yep, the Eagle.  A smile relaxes my face as I speed up to get closer.

And then I see him, the tall one on the end…the one I’m going to obsess over for the rest of the night.  In a sudden rush of hot chemicals in my blood, the city blurs away and the song “Under Your Spell” by Desire fades in from the night.  All that exists for me in that ridiculous moment is him…his handsome face that I’m going to glance at from every possible angle while hoping he glances back at me too; his muscles that I’m going to tingle to touch and will casually run my hands over when I push past him in the crowd; and his scent I’m going to crave and hunt down until I’m covered in it.  He is the dark-haired, green-eyed, dangerously bearded Argos.

I uncontrollably slow to a halt in my hazy lust as the group keeps moving ahead.  The city begins to form again around me and I realize we’ve reached the Eagle.  Argos and his buddies move past the doorman and into the red-lit bar and for one possibly imagined instant that legendary hero looks back in my direction and smiles at me standing there with a semi.  Was that a smile?!  Oh god.

The music is gone, I’m conscious again.  The doorman gives me a funny smile.

“Go on in, pup.  Have fun.”

Jockstrapped

The jockstrap: the simplest and most potently masculine of all garments.  This hot little ass-hugging strap has been supporting men for over a hundred years with only a slight dip in popularity in the 80′s and 90′s when compression shorts became the athletic gear of choice.  Today, locker rooms and gay bars boast jock brands from the classic Bike to high-tech Under Armor to fashionable Calvin Klein with a style and shape for every man.  The jock’s association with sports, male-only exclusivity of use, and revealing design make jocks both strong and sexy–two things we like in men.

Like a lot of guys, getting my first jock was a coming of age moment and made me feel like I was gaining entry into the Man Club (even though I was still on the cute side of puberty).  Ever since then I’ve loved wearing jocks and am always happy to see the distinctive lines of one on another man (ruff!).  In honor of this delicious piece of gear that has enthralled so many men, I’ve collected a few quotes and stories from guys about their thoughts on the jockstrap.  Enjoy

“I give my husband jocks like a straight man would give his wife lingerie.  He loves them and I love them…also easy access for me.  Some nights the jocks never even comes off him.” — Fashion designer

“I live in a jock; I don’t think I even own a pair of underwear.  Jocks are great and I love wearing them…doesn’t even have to necessarily be clean.  It’s one of the few pieces of clothing that’s better dirty.”  — MMA fighter

“One of my most intense locker room memories is from college when one day after gym class I walked into the showers and found a white jockstrap hanging from a towel rack.  The school issued us shorts, t-shirts, and even jocks for class if we asked and I always loved the idea of my fellow frat boy classmates wearing them.  Anyway, I was about to grab it when I heard someone in a shower stall and realized the jock must be his.  I didn’t care though…I quickly walked past and grabbed that jock and headed right back to my locker to get dressed.  As I was changing the guy from the shower came out and just happened to be using a locker a few down from me.  He was this rugby-playing, dark-haired guy and I panicked cause I just knew he knew I had taken his gear.  No one said anything until just as I was walking past him and out of the locker room he sort of mumbled, “enjoy it” without ever looking up at me.  I froze for a second and then just bolted.  It was intense…and so hot.” — US Army soldier

“I volunteered to be a manager of my high school football team–a really crappy, hard job because of all the work you have to do–just so I could be the one to wash all the team uniforms and gear.  That meant getting to feel and sniff about 40 jockstraps each week.  I was a tremendous pervert.  Still am.” — Chelsea bartender

“My ferret always stole my jock and hid it in his little nest.  Ferrets love stinky things and I guess that was the most glorious item in the house.” — Rugby player

Any of you have a jockstrap thought or story to share?  Please post in the comments.

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