I've been on a big action figure binge lately. I've collected action figures for the better part of a decade. I've ALWAYS collected comic books, but I used to sneer at the people who bought 'little plastic people' just as much as I sneered at the baseball card collectors.

Then, Batman the Animated Series happened to me. When the BTAS action figures first cme out, I used to look at them in Walmart and think "gee, these sure are cool, but i'm not buying them, no way." Even when they made Catwoman.

Then, my ex, Dave, had a birthday. He liked the Batman figures a lot too. So, I decided to buy him some for his birthday. The floodgates opened. I obsessively tracked down every single BTAS figure ever made. The only one I never got was the Robin Dragster, which sells for $200 - $300 now cuz the factory burned down after the first batch of them were made. I think about buying one on eBay ever so often though...

Buying Batman made it okay to buy the X-Men. And the Fantastic Four weren't so removed from them. And Iron Man. And the Avengers. For a while, I dabbled in Star Wars, before finally realizing that I have always hated the Star Wars movies. They're crap. Always have been. Always will be.

When the short-lived Superman animated figures line came out, I hunted it down obsessively. I went to Toys R Us (TRU to those of us who are fanatics) every morning before work until I finally found the unopened case one morning. Ripped it open with my car keys and bought the entire first line of characters.

I used to go to Walmarts at 2 AM looking when I knew new Batman figures were coming out. The ex knew we always had to go to the toy department of any store we went into before any other shopping could commence. That's still true of me.

After moving to New Orleans, I was too poor to buy figures very much. The line I love now are DC Direct figures. Figures made of DC comic book characters by DC Comics. Today, I got Big Barda & Mr Miracle in the mail. Bought them on eBay.

The new Spiderman line rocks also though. He has an amazing number of points of articulation. Points of articulation... that another obsessive geeky term thing...

Anyways... if you didn't think I was kinda geeky before...

Well, Blogger likes me again. I haven't even tried blogging lately b/c from the 10th to the 13th none of my posts were getting through. But they seem to be okay now. Altho, rereading the incredibly self-indulgent and generally blech-y post that one of those was makes me cringe a bit. I'm glad I can laugh at myself...

I woke up a bit hungry this morning. And wanting a Diet Coke.

Last night, I went grocery shopping at Whole Foods. I spent almost a hundred dollars.

And this morning, I don't have any Diet Coke in my house. And I don't see anything I want to eat.

Hmmm.

I'm feeling kind of melancholy today. And everywhere I turn, I seem to be encountering things that are forcing me to think about how being gay shapes your life in lots of ways regardless of whether you want it to or not.

In today's Times Picayune, there was an article about a Louisiana Senate committee sending a bill to the Senate which would prohibit discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. The thing that struck me the most was at the end of the article. One of the deciding votes was cast by Sen. Ken Hollis from Metairie. There was a quote from him in which he spoke about his opinion being shaped by the fact that he had a gay son. He seems to love and accept his son. But...

The article ends with these 3 paragraphs:

***

Hollis said he knew at an early age his oldest son was different from his other two sons. "As he grew older, it became obvious," he said. "I remember the day he called me and said, ‘I want to visit with you, Dad.' We met and he told me he was gay.

"I hugged him and said I loved him. Two of his friends also came out. One was beaten up by his dad; the other got thrown out of the house.

"If he could change, he would," Hollis said of his son. "But I love him just as much."

***

It hurts me that even the people who defend us, even the loving father of a gay son sometimes say things that are so very wrong and so very hurtful.

Was it really necessary for him to end his statement by saying "if he could change, he would"? Does Mr Hollis truly know that his son would choose to be heterosexual given the chance?

The message I get here is that Mr. Hollis views homosexuality as a form of second class existence. That he thinks his son's life would have more value, that he could take more pride in it if his son were heterosexual.

But, he loves him even though he's a homosexual.

I don't really think that's what Mr Hollis intended, but that's what his words could convey. And that hurts me.

From a young age, a lot of us who are gay learn a lot about hurt. I know I did. I learned very early in life about the power that words have. And the pain that follows from the way that power can be wielded against you.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." That's one of the great lies we're told as children. Words have more power than a fist could every have. One single syllable flung at you can inflict more pain than any fist.

The person I am today is a direct result of a childhood that I largely choose not to remember. What I do remember is an awful lot of hurt. A lot of time spent alone. A lot of words that hurt. And a lot of adults who either chose to ignore what was going on or who were party to it.

I'm sure Mr. Hollis didn't mean to use words that could hurt. But, it seems to me, he did. And I have to wonder what his son thought as he read them.

I do know one thing. Given the choice, I wouldn't change. I like being me. I know I'm a little different from most people. I'm an extremely solitary person. I don't trust people very easily. It's rare for me to truly consider someone to be a friend. And all of this is a result of a childhood which had a lot of hurt in it. And that hurt was a direct result of the fact that I was gay.

But... I would not change, Mr. Hollis. And I truly wonder whether your son would either.

I miss my bacteria.

Thanks to the staph infection I mentioned a couple of days ago, I've been on very strong antibiotics for 3 days. I think that pretty much every bacteria, good or bad, that was in or on my body is dead now. I feel sterile.

I miss my bacteria.

Quick 80s Music Flashback... Song's I used to LOVE:

Dancing With Tears in My Eyes - Ultravox
Change Your Mind - Sharpe & Numan
Be My Powerstation - St. Che'
The Magician - Secession
Relax - FGTH
Absolute - Claudia Brucken
Love and Pride - King
Fake - Brick
Stranger - Clan of Xymox
Primary - The Cure
WYHIWYG - Front 242
Strapdown - Meat Beat Manifesto
Dig It - Skinny Puppy
Tour de France - Kraftwerk
Only in My Dreams - Debbie Gibson
Fascinated - Company B
Silent Morning - Noel
Loveride - Nuance
Drag Racing - Big Stick
Sensoria - Cabaret Voltaire
Everything by Colourbox and Propaganda
Hurts - Boytronic
Timebomb - Chakk
Over the Shoulder - Ministry
Beat Dis - Bomb the Bass
Theme from S'Express - S'Express
A Girl in Trouble - Romeo Void
We Shall Cleanse the World - Revolting Cocks
Don't Walk - Big Supreme
Imagination - Belouis Some
Images of Heaven - Peter Godwin
Flucht - Zwischenfall
Murderous - Nitzer Ebb

I'm not very faithful to the Blog Lifestyle yet, am I...?

So, life lately... got stood up for a tentative date on Saturday. The excuse being that his cellphone died and it was Monday before he could access his numbers in it again. Well, at the worst, it was a creative excuse and he did call on Monday. Also stood up by The Ex who was supposed to call me to see if I wanted to hang out with he and his friends at the Country Club. Got a lame apology later by email. Of course, the same evening, a good friend did take me up on my invite to come by while I was grilling some food. I thought he was coming for dinner and conversation. He thought he was coming for sex. I think we were both left a little unsatisfied by the evening. I do like the boy quite a lot though, I just don't like being treated like an outlet for, um... well you know...

And then on Sunday, my eye that had been a little itchy for a couple days, suddenly decided to swell up and get crusty. I assumed pink-eye had gotten me. Then my eyelid starting peeling off. Ick. By the time I go to my doctor on Tuesday morning, the eye was getting better, but my face had gotten a similar peely spot and my throat was all swollen. The verdict was that I scratched my eyelid and got a staph infection in it, which I was then touching and spreading about my skin. ICK!! Day 2 of antibiotics and I'm already 200% better. I did miss 2 days of work and did nothing but sleep all day for 2 days. And eat...

And look at eBay... eBay is SO scary. There's so many things on there I could so easily buy. I can just sit for hours typing in things that pop into my head. I think I may start buying every comic book I find on there that has an appearance in it by Krypto, Superman's dog.

Krypto is absolutely one of the coolest things ever in comic books. I mean, he's a super intelligent dog who has all of Superman's powers. Or, he was in the Silver Age of comics, at least. Things just don't get much cooler than super-powered dogs.

If you ever see a guy running around with a tattoo of Krypto on his back, that's my ex. The bastard stole my tattoo idea. Well, maybe he had my blessing. I think he's convinced himself it was his idea anyway. Regardless, he loves Krypto as much as I do. As does my friend, Brian.

Isn't it scary that there are three thirty-something gay guys in New Orleans who all obsessively love a comic book character who happens to be a super-powered dog?

Eek. An education in blogging begins. Hitting "post & publish" results in typos and poor grammar representing you to the world. Lesson learned.

Tuesday night is Buffy the Vampire Slayer nite. How the fuck can a piece of crap show like Queer as Folk win a GLAAD media award when a show like Buffy is on the air?? The relationship between Willow and Tara has been, without any doubt in my mind, the best portrayal ever of a gay or lesbian couple on television.

No other show has ever represented the love and dignity of a gay relationship so well. The development of Willow and Tara as a couple has been a joy to watch. There's not been a false note a single time in the development of their relationship. Watching friendship grow into respect and admiration and those traits grown into love between these two characters has been an absolute joy. The smallest looks between the two and some of the best written dialogue on tv has made me believe in the complete and pure love between these characters.

So, the things that happened in tonight's show... hurt. And hurt bad. I cried. I guess part of me will always be a big sissy. And I don't care.

Watch Buffy already.

Monday. Another week... Yesterday was a pretty decent Sunday. Today's a pretty decent Monday. Yesterday I finally got inspired enuff to wash my car for the first time since I moved to New Orleans (last August). And I bathed the dog.

My dog, Keisha, is eight, going on nine years old. The last few weeks I've been falling in love with her all over again. After I moved to New Orleans she went through a period of extreme neediness and utterly neurotic behavior. She was obviously NOT happy about the move. And she started driving me absolutely nuts. I'd come home from work almost daily to find a puddle of dog pee in the kitchen. Every step I took she was under my feet. A couple of times she just walked up to where I was sitting, raised a leg and proceeded to piss right in front of me. And there was the terrible day I came home and found that she had eaten a 3 week old bean casserole that I had thrown into the garbage that morning. Regurgitated green beans are not a pleasant sight, especially when they're all over your bed.

Anyways, we're past all that now.

A little history on Keish... she was a found doggie. My ex, Dave, was walking to his car on the LSU campus one day. A muddy, skin and bones mutty little puppy started following him. He played with it a bit and then, near the LSU stadium, shooed it away. When he was getting into his car, he noticed the fleabag running around in the street. He jumped out of his car and yelled at her. She came running towards him and then past him, jumping right into his car. The first sign of abnormal dog intelligence... I'm still convinced it was all a scam on her part.

So, Dave got the dog he'd been wanting. Dave lived in a run down house in Spanish Town at that time. This was a couple of years into our relationship, the really good years. The thing I remember most about Keisha in the beginning is that she liked to sleep in his laundry basket in his big walk in closet. And she always wanted to get into the bed with us. And Dave always said no. Of course, as soon as he left the room, I'd pull her up into it with me. Eventually, she and I won and Dave let her sleep with us.

It wasn't long before we discovered that there was no fence high enough to hold Keisha. She'd climb any fence in her way. Even with a chain on her, she'd manage to climb the fence. I remember finding her one day, completely over the fence in the back yard, dangling halfway up the side of it, hanging by her neck on her chain.

Eventually, Dave, Keisha and I moved into together. Our best house was a gigantic 3 bedroom house in the garden district of Baton Rouge. Dave and Keisha were both snugglers, and heavy sleepers. I'm a light sleeper and I hate to be too hot when I'm trying to sleep. So, of course, I became the middle guy in the bed. There were a lot of hot sticky summer nights where I lay in bed, with a boy pressed to one side of me, a dog to the other. I was usually slighty miserable, but exremely happy.

This was the house where Keisha learned to open doors. If the screen door on the porch wasn't latched, she learned that she could jump up on it, pull it back and then run out of it before it slammed shut. And she could do this amazingly fast. Faster than I could ever hope to run. And then, for an hour or two, a little white blur would run past the house every few minutes, with a tauting gleeful laughing smile on its face. At first, I could lure her home with the promise of a car ride. That didn't work long though. Eventually, she'd get tired and collapse on the porch though. But, I'd spend the intervening hours convinced she'd wind up a white and red smear on Government Street.

There came a day when it was better for Dave and I to go our separate ways. He realized this well before I did. Our love had changed. Honestly, we'd become friends and not lovers a while ago, but the charade of trying to pretend we were still lovers made it hard to even be friends. The break-up hurt me terribly at first. I felt wounded, betrayed, etc etc... all the usual maudlin you've-been-dumped feelings. The one great thing Dave did in the midst of our separating was to let me keep Keisha. It made sense because he was moving to New Orleans to an apartment. I would still be in a big house with a big yard. The thing that got me through the initial stages of the break-up was unconditional dog love. When you're sitting in a dark room, sobbing, thinking that you're unloveable and forever damaged somehow, having a sweet confused looking dog come to you and lick the tears off your face is all the proof you need that maybe things are gonna be better.

But, there was one sad effect on Keisha of our break-up. Through-out our relationship, Keisha would only come to bed if Dave and I were both home. If one of was out late, she slept on the sofa in the living room until we were both home. Then she'd come to bed with us. When Dave left, she moved to the sofa. I always felt like she was waiting for him to come home. For a while, it made me sort of sad for her.

But... things got better for me. A new career. A new and very cool roommate. A new me in a lot of ways. And there by my side the whole time... Keisha.

Keisha does have one unfortunate tendency. She's a complete people dog. She loves people. But... she hates dogs. All other dogs exist for her to beat down. As far as she is concerned, there is no dog that she shouldn't be the Alpha Dog too. And she had one special arch nemesis.

Petunia, was a ratty little terrier, who lived in the next yard. When the neighbors went out of town, I walked her for them. She'd try to eat cat shit when I walked her. That was the kind of dog she was. And Keisha loathed her. Utterly, completely and totally. They had 2 great fights. The first time, Keisha had gotten loose from our yard. The neighbors came walking out with Petunia on her leash. Keisha came around the side of the house like a bullet, picked the entire dog up in her mouth and did her best to shake it to death. Sadly, Dave and the neighbor managed to rescue the little shit-eater.

A couple of years later, Petunia got loose and came into my yard. My roommate and the neighbor got them apart, but not without pulling one of Keisha's teeth out with the little monster. Amazingly enough, vets can sew dog teeth back into the mouth. The first time cost Dave and I about $150 in Vet bills, the second cost my neighbor $120.

So, last year, I got promoted to our Metairie store. And Keisha and I made the move to New Orleans. She's finally adjusted to her new surroundings. And she gets to see Dave on a semi-regular basis.

The best part of the move to New Orleans was that Keisha came back to my bed. I guess the shock of the move, the new apartment, unfamiliar surroundings, made her need the security that sleeping next to me could provide. So, now we snuggle most every nite.

When I'm laying on the futon reading a book and she climbs up on it and lays her head on my chest and just looks into my eyes, I know what it is to be content. Doggie love is good love.

Anyways... I think you probably get the idea...

April 30 2001 9:24 The True Blogging Begins...

Finally. I figured out why my stupid computer wouldn't take cookies. It was all my fault. I downloaded a control panel called Web Free a while back to stop the stupid animated ads on gay.com. I forgot to uncheck Supress Web Cookies in it. So... now I can log onto Blogger. Whoo hoo.

So, as soon as I take a nice warm bath, I'll come back and say something important... right...