Perception Part Deux: Subjectively objective

Back in late September , as my weekends on the beach were coming to an end for the season, I asked my friend Louie to take some candid pics of/for me, while I still had some summer color/tan, as it was the first time in many years I possessed a hue other than ‘pastey white boy’. Also, I wanted some pics of me since I’ve lost the weight and am trying to get more tone. I’ve made progress, but “Joe six pack abs” I’m not. While I don’t feel fat anymore, I’m not willing to go so far as to say I feel skinny. The last remains of the damned belly won’t go away.

All my life I’ve been self conscious of my body. I was an overweight child—not obese, but overweight. I had a belly. I had boy boobs. The first time I lost a good deal of weight was my sophomore year of HS when I got sick with a really bad ear infection. For the first time, I had a smaller waste than my older “hot” brother. (In 8th grade I was once introduced to someone as ‘the one with the cute, hot brother’. It’s something I’ve never forgotten).
When the SFm* told me he was leaving me, one of the reasons was, “I am no longer attracted to you.” If he was trying to find the way to cut me the deepest, and inflict the most pain and hurt with lasting effects, he found it.

After Louie took the pics, we went to his computer to view and select. I was looking at the pics with some amazement. “God, is that really me?” Subjectively speaking while objectifying the person in the pics, I said, “Wow, I have a nice ass! Who knew?” I haven’t lost touch with reality. I know I’ll never be posing for any calendars. My goal is to be able to be shirtless in the summer without feeling self-conscious.

Looking at photos is a lot different than looking at yourself in the mirror. The experience was a very affirming. The photos went far beyond their intended purpose.

*Stupid Fucking mormon
©wtf/rle

The Song of Purple Summer

I have taken a bit of a blog writing hiatus, for a number of reasons. This Summer has been my best Chicago Summer in my memory, and I would have to say ranks up in one of the top Summers ever. As I’ve pondered on this, I at first thought, “This is interesting, as I’ve not been involved in any serious relationship or even serious dating this Summer.” I’ve come to realize that this may be one of the contributing factors to the ‘bestness’ of the Summer. (It’s not bitter and cynical when it’s the truth.) Some of the previous best Summers included a relationship. This time around, there won’t be the ending of a relationship that could tarnish the otherwise good memories.
After about six years in which my life was one big rolling shitfest after another. This has been a welcome respite. Last year, was my ‘transition’ year—with a new job, which was a good move. I’m settled in there. I think I finally started shaking some of the bad shit, much of which was tied to the former job. This Summer:

* I got to see a lot of family (family of origin and family of choice) members that I hadn’t seen in a long time—a few years in some cases.
* I went to my first country concert in an outdoor stadium. This was the beginning of the good Summer, and seemed to be the demarcation of the end of the crappy Winter and Spring.
* I got to the beach nearly every weekend. Being fifty pounds lighter than I was a few years ago, I actually got looks other than, “who is that beached whale?” There
was one guy who wanted to ‘manscape’ me. My goal for next summer is to be
rid of the last bit of belly, that seems to be clinging for dear life. I
have no delusions of a six pack. My goal is flat tummy, and be able to
walk through Market Days shirtless, without embarrassment. And speaking of
the beach. The gay beach was packed this year! The eye candy was
sweet, good and plenty.

*Another side effect of this is that this pastey white boy was in the sun enough to actually get some color/tan. I don't think I've had this much tan since I worked in the corn fields of the South Farms as an undergrad.
* Since getting rid of Gary MINI Cooper and acquiring Gary Fisher the Bike, I’ve
done a good deal of bike riding (for transportation and pleasure/exercise). Being at the beach, I reconnected with some old friends and met some new ones.
* I managed to take off nearly ever other Friday, to give me some long weekends, in which to enjoy the Chicago Summer.
* After finally knocking out the sinus infection from hell, I’ve maintained some
level of decent health status (for me).
* I canceled my land line phone service and got an iPhone. Since I’ve never even had an iPod, the learning curve is still very high. This tiny little machine can make
me feel really stupid.

There are the Chicagoans who have their Summer homes in Michigan or Wisconsin. This I don’t understand. Summers in Chicago are the best! It’s why you put up with the incredibly shitty Winters, here. I don’t want to go away in the Summer.
Last Summer, when I went to NYC, one of the highlights was seeing the Broadway show Spring Awakening, (book and lyrics by Steven Sater, music by Duncan Sheik, based on the 1891 German play by Frank Wedekind) the night after it won all of the Tony awards. The finale of the show is “The Song of Purple Summer”. I left the Eugene O’Neil Theatre deciding that this was my ultimate theme song and would be sung someday at my funeral. “...The earth will wave with corn... I will sing the song of Purple Summer”. This was one of my purple Summers. If my blogging skills have improved enough, there is a YouTube link of the song. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5CMh3HKnRyg
This is an expanded version of what I saw over a year ago, and of what’s on the OBCR (Original Broadway Cast Recording). The harmonies are stellar.

©wtf/rle

Meet Gary Fisher

Pre-script: This post was written July 5. I didn't get the pic until today (July 13), and thus didn't post until now..

I have a new “Gary” in my life. Back in May, I wrote my good-by message to Gary MINI Cooper – here--> http://randomthawghts.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-long-gary-with-some-regrets.html.
Meet Gary Fisher. He is my new set of wheels/transportation. One of the things I planned to do with the sale of Gary Cooper was to purchase a new bicycle. The brand happens to be “Gary Fisher”. Having the complete non-sports gay gene, I don’t know, but I think Gary Fisher (the person) was/is some famous bicyclist. Between traveling, and being sick, I hadn’t had much opportunity to ride Gary. Last weekend, I finally got out and rode the Lake Shore Drive bike trail. (Over the 4th of July weekend, I took two good size rides.) My hope is that it will provide the additional cardio needed to lose the last of the gut. The LSD bike trail is another one of the many reasons I HEART Chicago. The current Mayor Daley has done a lot to make Chicago a bike friendly city. In addition to abundant bike trail, the buses of CTA have bike racks on front of the bus, and you can take them on the el to travel to other bikeable destinations--even more reasons to HEART Chicago.

I HEART CHICAGO

There are many reasons why I love living in Chicago. Summers in Chicago make up for Winters in Chicago. Meeting friends for a picnic in the evening for free concerts and movies in Millennium Park, to name but one.
Memorial Day weekend is one of my two favorite weekends of every year in Chicago. It’s IML or International Mr. Leather competition, in which a convergence of Leather men (and women) descend upon Chicago for the crowning of the new winner, who will carry the title and be an ombudsman for the Leather Community. (Think Miss America, except it’s a burly, hairy chested hunk of gay man beefcake.) I’m by no means what one would call a leather queen. (Although, I did buy a pair of leather pants. I made a promise to myself that if I lost enough weight to fit into a 30” waist again, I’d treat myself to black leather jeans. {I topped out at 34” waist} I found a pair, on a sale rack for $50.) Other than IML weekend, I maybe go out to the bars once or twice during the year. I’ve never even attended the competition. But I love going to the “Leather Mart”, in which vendors of every fetish, and kink you could imagine (and some you never before imagined) display their wares, services, toys, accoutrements. I’ll refrain from providing any graphic detail as MUPD (see next post) reads my blog.
Additionally, people are decked out in full regalia of leather, uniforms, and other fetish drag. It’s a great sociological and anthropological observation. This year was the 30th annual IML, and had over 18,000 international attendees. It’s held at one of the larger conference hotels downtown, this year at the Hyatt. One of the things I love about the Mart, the whole weekend, is that it’s the most non-judgmental atmosphere EVER. People feel free to be who they are, and display that publically without guile or shame. One of my favorite years of IML was the year that the main conference hotel for IML, The Palmer House Hilton, was also the main conference hotel for the Promise Keepers. If you aren’t familiar, this is the neo con religious right group of men (i.e. jerry falwell, jimmy swagart dobson, etc). IT was great watching the PK men recoiling on the escalators as they watched big hairy men, in chains, collars, chaps, with their naked asses on display. Another favorite, was the year I was walking around the Leather Mart with my friend B. There was a vendor who had a gay porn star in his booth to hawk his wares, which happened to include glass dildoes. The porn star was bragging about how indestructible they were, and proceeded to demonstrate their durability (NO, NOT THAT WAY!) by banging (no pun intended) the sex toy on the edge of the table, upon which the indestructible glass dildo shattered into a million little pieces on the 3rd hit. All of us in the vicinity broke out into hysterical laughter. I’m not certain whether the porn star stayed on as spokes-model, or whether any of the devices sold that weekend.
My other favorite Chicago weekend is the second weekend of every August, which is North Halsted Market Days. It’s the largest street fest in the Midwest, in the heart of Boystown, where Halsted Street is closed down, restaurants, bars, and vendors set up on the street, and there are 3stages for live performances. It’s the dog days of summer, and the beefy, hot men are often shirtless. It’s like being a diabetic in a candy shop, but it’s still lots of fun, walking the strip, seeing what vendors are there, and what bands/performers are going to be on which stage at what time. To me, it’s a lot more fun than the annual gay pride parade, because you’re not on the sidelines watching the parade go by, but you’re in the middle of the action, participating (or not) to your heart’s content. You see men holding hands with other men, and women with women, without fear of bashing.