The Lineage

Sometimes I’m asked how I got my independent streak. The ability to be an individual and, a little far out into wacky land. To face into the wind. Beat my own drum. Then, I open up Facebook and see pictures like this one....

Yeah, you can guess which person is my sister. This example photo was taken during her works Ugly Sweater Contest. I always answer that it’s a family trait. 

Our strong individualistic characters are due to the fact that we have a strong English family line heading back to 1622 in Somerset, England. Our ancestors were a strong family that united to stand their ground and defied the local government.  Even when the neighboring government was not really asking them anything. 

This is why our families coat of arms has the Latin saying, “factum est, usque non est super” It is not done until it is over done.

Choosing the Right Family

In the summer of 1993 I stood in the middle of my Mother’s hotel room. Six months earlier I had come out to her over the phone, and this was our first face-to-face meeting. Purchasing a couple of books, I had hoped to give them to her on her visit. This was my attempt in some way to help her deal with the fall out of her nice Mormon son “turning” gay. She spoke of damnation and conversion therapy. I handed her Don Clarks’s book, Loving Someone Gay as a starting point to bridge a gap in communication and understanding. She picked up the hotel wastepaper basket and tossed the books inside.


I closed the door to her room slowly; as I did I realized I was closing another door. As I walked down the badly decorated hallway to the elevator and out the castle themed hotel, one thought came to mind:

“My Mother is a raging A## hole.”

This is when I learned the meaning behind the Maya Angelou quote, “The first time someone shows you who they are, believe them.” This is also around the time that I began to formulate my theory that you make your own family.

Out of the blue today, Dalton the BFF, sent me a text from his office in mid-town Manhattan. He needed a hug while working on a stressful proposal to revamp the image of a mens clothing line. It got me thinking; true family isn’t in titles, it’s in actions. True family isn’t how often you see each other in the bar, or link to each other on Facebook; it truly is in walking the walk. The idea that when something goes wrong, like your car breaking down, family will stand next to you and give you unsolicited support. The concept that you will get unconditional and never-ending ending support when you need it, or even when you don’t want it.

Those are the relationships that make up the family you choose.

THE 5th OF JULY

The Fourth of July weekend always has its own flair to it, a more relaxed summer vibe. The weekend started for me at a long table in a Chinese restaurant as the friends decompressed and set the tone for the upcoming three day weekend.

Saturday began with the ubiquitous trip to Home Depot then over to BFF Carl’s house to help him move furniture around. In the process of changing the living room in to the dining room, Carl likes to sit fifteen down to dinner at a moment’s notice. Before you could say Antique bone china it was time for a night hanging out at a local pub.

A night at the breaded boy bar equals a quiet easy starting Sunday of coffee and potato pancakes. This was followed by Puma and flip-flop shopping. By the time the thermometer reached the high 90s it was time for Beer Bust with the bears.

Yes. That is the BFF Carl in the background. Yes. He is doing that on purpose. No. I have no earthly idea as to why.

The Fourth was marked by the huge annual BBQ at BFF Frank’s house. It was a nice way to relax and enjoy the day as the heat subsided and the massive amounts of food and beer were slowly consumed. I made a couple cherry pies, finally giving up my high pure butter standards I broke down and made the crust with lard. The choice yielded the best crust I’ve ever baked.

Today is back to the spreadsheet game. I did however; go for a long run around our tiny village this morning to help burn off the weekend of over indulgence. Every street corner was littered with the burnt out shells of fireworks and scorch marks from long dead glowing snakes

The call

Every year I get the call. So why this year I was blind sited, no clue. The IPhone started ringing Basshunter, I picked up and it was Mom. Damn! It was her twice yearly call to get me to come home. To have a nice Mormon Thanksgiving.

The Mom used every trick to have me join the passive-aggressive clan. It would of worked but fear is an amazing motivator. In mere seconds I spun a web of deceit, of an utter amazing lock tight alibi. Whooo.. that was a close one, a lie will set you free. Apparently I’m feeding children or releasing wolves back into the wild or feeding children to wolves. I said it was quick, not good. Yes, I lied to my mom. But this is after years of having the conversations and arguments about this topic. About my life, asking then demanding respect for my partners and myself. This really has not helped more then getting me hoarse. In the end I make a choice. Do I fight against their belief that if I show up, open my mouth around their kids they will be somehow turned septic? Or….. just say “No thank you.”
Chicken shit? Yeah. But so is, "Steve can come, but someone needs to tell him not to bring any of those friends."

I’ll be joining my real family for a great Turkey day over at Frank and Kevin’s. Family is not what is thrust upon you, as much as the family you create.

CHARACTERS

I realize that you may lose track of all the characters in my blog. And, you may want to start collecting the action figures. So, here’s a list of some main characters and their back-stories.

Me, StevieB. I live in Denver, Colorado, USA. I love Denver, the mountains the non-stop traffic jams, I also love constantly whining about how much I miss the hip, cool factor of a big city. I’ve also lived in San Diego, and the Gay Ghettos of Dallas and Houston Texas. There’s still a lot of Texas in me. My days are spent being a cubical ninja, my nights are spent trying to make Fuzzy laugh. I drive around with the top off of my Jeep, click away on my IPod, read DC comics, and spend every dime taking gay cruises.

Fuzzy. My anatomically correct boy/manfriend/partner. Also the guy I’m head over heels in love with. He’s a former IML finalist. Muscle head composer/musician. He rides a cruiser and writes music. Man, I love this guy, all muscle and cuteness.

Dalton. Now technically he’s my ex. But, I feel that our relationship didn’t end. It just grew up. I now consider him my closest friend. He lives in NY or Brooklyn precisely. We met and lived together in Dallas. He introduced me to Hamlet, monogamy and Gilotto.

Carl, or BFFCarl. He’s a Texas boy through and through. He’s the definition of a “Renaissance man” you hear about but rarely see. He's the one guy that'll rearrange your furniture to make the living room finally work.

Frank, or IGfrank. He hosts Thanksgiving and keeps me informed about the latest trends in Gourmet magazine and BMB. He makes sure I show up for the gay, bear, leather, white or circuit cruises/parties on time and not to hung over.

I hope this will help you follow who’s who on the big gay blog. If you’re interested in the poseable action figures there is special attachments included. Carl comes with his Carl Dream House while Dalton has “Kung Fu grip.”