I had a great time biking to Boy Beach, which is just south on the coast from the Golden Gate Bridge. I’m so thankful that my body is well enough for me to get out and explore nature and the world.
As I was biking over to the beach, I groaned when I saw a large bank of clouds ahead. As I arrived at the beach, the fog evaporated all at once.
I met a couple of young guys on the beach who were climbing on the cliffs. I asked them about the difficulty of the trail to the bridge and they replied it was easy if I stayed near the water. They thought I was a former teacher of theirs. As I returned from the bridge, I asked them what kind of teacher I was supposed to be, describing my fantasy about being their sex education teacher. They didn’t really think it was funny — oops, I guess they were straight. đ
Flocks of pelicans flew south over the beach that day.
Next I ran across three guys sunbathing together, one of whom was a longhair named Bruce who I gave a card about the Queer Longhair group and mentioned the party at my place for queer longhairs each year on Folsom Fair eve. I sat with them and shared my organic orange mango juice with them. One guy left and I got to know Bruce and Daniel (who joked his name was Moonshine when I told him mine was either Stardust or Will, whichever he prefers to call me). Bruce massaged suntan lotion into Moonshine’s back and then around his buttocks, continuing with a rather penetrating anal massage for quite some time. They were inviting about my participating in some way and I wanted to, but I also felt really shy and uncomfortable. I joined in a little bit, but the mood just wasn’t right. I was more attracted to Moonshine, but he didn’t want to kiss, so the intimacy wasn’t there for me.
I returned from the beach by biking home. I felt great… it wasn’t a strain to bike even on the hills.
I had an Internet date with Mert after showering. We ate dinner at a new vegan Japanese restaurant called Cha-Ya, which was excellent. I had sea vegetable salad and a dish with veggie pot stickers in hot broth with vegetables. Afterwards, he wanted to go out drinking, so we caught a bus to the Castro and went to The Mix, then to The Bar. I drank mudslides and got quite drunk. He had to catch BART back to the East Bay before midnight, so I rode with him on Muni to the BART stop and continued on to Tubesteak at Aunt Charlie’s on Turk Street. I was on my own with a cool crowd for awhile, then Storm showed up with Jesse and Troy and their friend Will. Somehow, I ended up kissing two different women, one of whom had a moustache painted on her upper lip. I found one guy with two dots painted on each side of his face attractive and gave him my card. On the way home with Storm, we flirted with the taxi driver who let us know he was straight and showed us a picture of his son, now in Denmark with his girlfriend. We urged him to travel to Denmark to be with his family, despite his doubts about the relationship with his girlfriend.
The trip to Covelo was great! We all spent a lot of time hanging out around the ramshackle cabin. Creamy and Yoyo showed up in drag for the big BBQ. Jombi and Win were looking adorably queer. And Eric chowed down on the meat in a cloud of smoke from the BBQ.
Contrary to popular belief, Mitch did not turn into a hedgehog, and his Pan concocktion was delicious, refreshing, and stimulating. Somehow, Brian and Johnny transformed from kitchen queens into kings… now what is that all about? đ Along with all the volunteer chefs, their efforts made the event a gourmet success. Selma made fabulous quiche to complement the crate of granola I brought, so much it wouldn’t have gotten eaten if we had left it out every morning and with a bunch left for Yoyo upon our departure. And there is Will (with Eric below) who received many kudos as the meat czar.
Prickle and Buck were dandy-licious, as was Anthony in his lovely collar. Garnet, the bird, was quite often talkative and occasionally took flight as her cage is more of a sanctuary than a lockdown.
John’s boyfriend Bill was kind enough to encourage John to learn about massage, fortunately on me. We set up Eric’s massage table in a madrone grove down the hill from the cabin.
The path to my camping site brought me past a particularly lascivious madrone tree, its brown smooth bark forming a hot crotch I lusted after each time I went to my tent. Another knotty hotty madrone made me drip each time I cruised by as well.
Each day, I hiked down with some of the boys to the Eel River for delicious swimming, rock climbing, diving, sunbathing, and picnics.
Some of the guys got covered in mud and one or two buried under the sand. Win, John, and I made Jombi into tribal art, the remains of which appear below, as does a snake who slithered in the river as I swam.
Some special pictures are in a password-protected location. Let me know if you’re in any of these pictures and would prefer they be on the password-protected web page.
Other highlights of the Covelo camping trip for me were visiting the garden Yoyo is tending, reading poetry aloud while Eric, Mitcho, Anthony, and others made love on the porch, and morning yoga sometimes led by Three*. I really loved the spirit of comradery, the great food, and the healthy environment.
Thanks so much to Eric and Mitch and everyone else who made the trip possible.
From Eric and Mitcho’s land, Covelo, Mendocino County, CA:
How amazing to be back out in the country camping on the land. During the Queer Freedom Day festivities, Eric (aka Cattail) invited me to come to a Fourth of July camping weekend at his and Mitcho’s land in Covelo. Coincidentally, Yoyo (aka Joe), who I met at Antler’s Comfort & Joy Afterglow party, is the current caretaker and Eric and Mitcho’s place. So, I got a ride up with Andrew, his boyfriend Nori, and Anthony. We talked radical politics for part of the ride, considering my proposal for limiting income from all sources to $7 million a year.
We ate at a Chinese buffet restaurant on the way up, after getting a jump start for the van from a neighbor on Bernal, near my house.
We arrived fairly late at night, but I really wanted to set up my tent so I could feel fully landed and grounded in this beautiful place. So, I asked Eric, who was kind of helpful, and Yoyo, who brought me to a fabulous camping spot in a madrone grove not far from the main cabin. The path to the location feels like it is magically warded somehow because I have to concentrate very hard to remember the path even though it’s within shouting distance of the cabin.
Jack T., former housemate, is also at the Covelo gathering and it is great to have an informal environment where we can reconnect.
So far today, I’ve done my yoga — been keeping up a good practice, although my lower back seems tight — and helped with installing a solar water pump down by a creek, which was fairly hard work, but I got to jump under little waterfalls in the creek afterwards. Apparently, there is a bigger river to play in nearby which I hope to check out a bit later today. These are all tributaries of the Eel River, which Mitcho tells me is one of the last few clean rivers around here.
Buck and his friend Prickly made magnificent Hawaiian macademia nut, mango, blueberry pancakes for breakfast, which I ate along with a mimosa from Eric. I skipped the bacon and eggs.
Last week, I was cruising online and made connections with a few more guys. I met one, named Keith, who lives on Valencia between 19th and 20th Streets. I went over to his place and he sucked my dick with me coming onto his shoulder. Afterwards, we chatted a bit and I learned he was out of his job as a floor installer and repair person because he contracted lead poisoning as a result of paint exposure during his work. He seemed sincere about getting together from time to time. I invited him to come by and check out the stairs at my house to see if he could help fix them up. Perhaps he could also help with refinishing the hardwood floors. Storm said I just want him on his hands and knees. đ
Yesterday, the mystery of what happened to Guille was solved. I noticed him online and chatted him up. He was cordial and even friendly and loving, yet he was on there to call his sister for her birthday. The day before he had sent me an email explaining that he had received the funds for his mother’s medical treatment, that the treatment was going well, and that he had been busy traveling around to take care of her. In other words, he was very busy, so didn’t have time to answer my emails or phone calls during that week. Then, while we chatted online, when I realized he was preoccupied with his sister’s birthday, I offered to wait and chat with him whne he finished with her. He seemed glad about that and said, “Dale,” in Spanish, which means, “Let’s do it.” So, I waited and waited for him, then I noticed that he signed off chat, then briefly back on, then off again, without chatting with me. I can’t help but feel disappointed. I’m feeling like the best move now would be to let him contact me, rather than throwing so much of my energy into what may be a lost cause.
No, that is too harsh. I want to let him contact me so that there is a balance in desire to connect within the relationship.
Interestingly, Paul T., who I met in Rio on my last trip and who now lives in Cordoba, Argentina, started chatting me up yesterday. This after I had decided not to seek him out any fruther since he didn’t want to meet with me while I was in Argentina. I told him that I didn’t feel like he was really a friend because chatting online once every several months didn’t make a friendship for me. I asked him if his boyfriend had broken up with him, and of course that was the case, probably because he gave his boyfriend the same on-and-off again attentions he has given me. He thinks a deep connection with me isn’t possible because of the distance, or so he says to me, even though he is now coming to the States on a regular basis. We left it that he will contact me on his next trip to the States and we will meet in person to see how things work out between us. Basically, I feel like it’s up to him at this point.
Meanwhile, on the eve of Queer Freedom Day in San Francisco, I met up with Robin Hood, who I had met previously at the Vancouver Green Body radical faerie gathering. He is a faerie who lives on an island on the Canadian coast. He and I set up a ritual (or scene) where I met him at the dinner that Kirk R. and his partner Ed had set up for Canadians coming to Witch Camp in Mendocino redwood territory. The scene involved a whirlwind tour of San Francisco’s queer underbelly, with him blindfolded and on collar and lead. We had a great time at various venues, such as navigating through 20,000+ people at the Pink Party on Castro Street, where I showed him the center of gay mecca as well as Harvey Milk’s camera shop, while we danced, him blindfolded, in the streets. People tried yanking his chain, removing his blindfold, and other shenanigans, sometimes without permission, but apparently the protective spell we cast to initiate the ritual on my back deck held well throughout the evening. We also visited the Hole in the Wall, where we removed the blindfold briefly so he could appreciate the visual panoply of this historic dive, then to the Powerhouse which we checked out and kissed and got blown on the rear patio after navigating stairs jam-packed with sweaty guys, all while he was still blindfolded and on collar and lead. Then, to Blow Buddies, the first time for both of us, where they made us remove the blindfold, and we watched lots of mindless sex in little cabins with glory holes and got blown again by a cute boy who sat on a toilet seat after we pissed in the nearby urinals. I liked how Robin Hood shared the boy freely with me and I loved the feeling of his short dark hair in my hands as my dick slid in and out of his sweet throat. I pet him as he sucked me, then kissed him after I came in his mouth, tasking my own cum on his lips. Then, we left Blow Buddies and headed to Afterglow, a Comfort & Joy party at Antler’s place in the Inner Richmond. There, we released our scene of Beauty (Robin Hood) and the Prince (moi) by Robin Hood saying, “And they lived happily ever after.” We partied a bit more there and I met a delicious faerie named Yoyo who Robin Hood urged me to get to know better, so I made out with and smoked a little pot with him. It turns out he is caretaking Eric (Cattail) and Mitcho’s cabin up at Covelo, and the next morning, after riding groggily with Mikes on Bikes (gay guys on bicycles) just after Dykes on Bikes (lesbians on motorcycles) who start the Queer Freedom Day Parade in San Francisco, I was at a brunch with Cattail and Mitcho where Cattil invited me to a little gathering over July 4th weekend at their place in Covelo. Thus, a possible time to hang out with Yoyo some more, although he may still have a “friend from New York” visiting him at that time. I’m trying not to get too attached to the notion of him falling for me, although I bet I could fall for him.
I saw him again on Queer Freedom Day when I went with the brunch boys from Johnny Thunder and Brian’s place in the Haight over to the Faerie Freedom Village. We weaved our way through the humungous crowds to drop our bikes off at the cool valet parking offered by the San Francisco Bike Coalition. The Faerie Freedom Village seemed more packed than usual, and with a lower proportion of faerie faces I knew to those I didn’t. That still meant hundreds I did meet and greet, including Ron and Rog who are real sweeties. A photographer friend persuaded Ron and me to get nekkid for pictures in the Vilalge, including some with the grease-covered buy in overalls who organizes Mikes on bikes each year. Hopefully, she will email copies of the pics as promised. I even had enough energy to stop in at the Mikes on Bikes party at Marty’s place on 14th St. on my bike ride home. I was hoping Yoyo might show up there as well, but he had been up all night since he stayed at Antler’s and probably crashed out somewhere before heading to the Mikes on Bikes party. I called and left a message with him about potentially hanging out a bit in Covelo over July 4th weekend. I will go anyway because it sounds like a fun group and an amazing place, even if I don’t get to hang with Yoyo.
Meanwhile, I’m focusing this week on Egypt, reading history and learning hieroglyphics. My project is gradually coming together and I’m very excited to be working on my true passion. Let’s hope the money side of things works out as well.
I’m really loving riding my new bike with the raised handlebars, so I don’t have to worry so much about my neck/spine trouble, and I’m ready to check out local swimming pools to get even more exercise. I’m doing yoga almost every day before I work on the novels, and I’m eating carefully to keep my weight down. I’m experimenting with going off my blood pressure medication and, so far, the blood pressure reading averages appear to be the same as when I was on the medication.
Storm’s buddy Hawke is visiting us for awhile and we are still searching for another housemate since the departure of Joannes (aka Janice) and Kat. I saw them at the Trans Rally and March on Friday, which I attended wearing a paisley skirt on my new bike.
Taking care of Grampy in Washington, D.C., along with my mother, was important.
Sending money to Guille in Montevideo may have been foolish. I’ve been trying to reach him by phone every day since I got back here with no success. I’m not sure why it’s so much worse for me not knowing what has happened then, let’s say, hearing from him that he no longer wants me to contact him. The uncertainty of not knowing if something has happened to him is part of it. Perhaps it’s part of my “wanting to rescue a boy” complex like Nikas talked about.
I met Nikas when I invited Storm out for a night dancing at the End Up. Storm flirted with him first — we both thought he was real humpy. It surprised me when he said he wanted to spend the night with me instead of Storm. He actually gave Storm $20 for a taxi home when I mentioned I was worried about him getting home OK. Storm seemed happy with the arrangement and Nikas didn’t seem like a psycho-killer, so I went home with him.
When we arrived in his bed, he told me has been HIV+ for years. We still hugged and kissed. I was horny, so jacked him off, which he liked, and he then did the same for me. It was comfortable hanging out with him, even though he confided in me that he’s had a speed addiction, shooting it up. Although he says he’s now off it, I get the sense that it may rear its ugly head in his life again. We ate a nice brunch at a place called Cafe 69, or something like that, on Maiden Lane. Then, we went our separate ways. It’s been a few days and I haven’t heard a peep from him. He has my info and Storm has his phone number in his cell phone.
I’m shocked to read of the arrest of four gay men in India for simply meeting together for a picnic. Apparently, although no sex was involved, the police entrapped them and charged them with a violation of Section 377 of Indian Penal Code, punishable by 10 years to life imprisonment. The police apparently traced the guys through an online website.
One can only hope that this is the final straw that breaks the camel’s back to reform this antiquated law from the era of British colonialism so that gay people can take their place alongside the rest of humanity in India and around the globe.
This evening, I watched a documentary called Walt Whitman, part of the Voices and Visions series, directed by Jack Smithie, and copyrighted in 1988 by the New York Center for Visual History. The documentary includes numerous excerpts from interviews of Allen Ginsberg, including one snippet where he mentions a sexual lineage that connected him to Whitman through Neal Cassady, Gavin Arthur, and Edward Carpenter (a claim he also apparently made in a Gay Sunshine interview).
I had a flashback to the time I spent with Ginsberg in Cambridge, MA, in 1982, when he told me that I was part of an erotic lineage that connected me to Whitman through him and Carpenter and others I didn’t remember from that time. I now know much more clearly who Neal Cassady is, although Gavin Arthur remains a mystery. One result of a quick Google search identifies Arthur as ” a certain astrologer and San Francisco character, Gavin Arthur (grandson of president Chester A Arthur), who gave lectures at San Quentin while Neal was a prisoner.” Another entry reports that he studied astrology with Ronald Reagan before Reagan started his political career.
I had interviewed Ginsberg for Gay Community News in an issue published on August 21, 1982. The funny part of the interview was how we decided to end it in print, that is, with Ginsberg’s question to me about whether I was going to refer to the conditions of the interview in publication, my question to him about what he meant, and his reply that the interview was conducted when we were in bed together.
A month or so ago, I found a cassette tape containing the whole interview and listened to it for the first time in more than 20 years. I was surprised at how fresh and relevant Ginsberg’s words remained to me and to the current political situation in the U.S.
Perhaps an archive somewhere would be interested in the recording? If so, please contact me. Or perhaps I should just transcribe the whole thing and post it on this blog. The incomplete interview, as published in Gay Community News, is now apparently selling for $22 an issue on the web, so I guess I should scrounge around in the basement to see if I still have any copies, eh?
A friend on a private email list asked me why I thought “Bareback Mountain,” (if not available at the previous link, try “Bareback Mountain” instead) the parody of Ang Lee’s “Brokeback Mountain” was funny, rather than an affront to the queer community. My answer:
While I thought Brokeback was an excellent film, it can be read in various ways by various audiences. One way to read the film is as a reinforcement of the “shocking” “lifestyle” of homosexuality and the inevitable destruction of those who are foolish enough to participate in it. I suspect that there are large segments of U.S. society that will walk away from Brokeback with that take on the film if they ever chance to see it. As other reviews have pointed out, it’s curious that the hetero sex is so much more openly filmed that the homo sex for example. Perhaps that’s why I felt profoundly depressed by the film.
The reason that the Bareback parody is funny is because it ridicules a reading of Brokeback in which homosexuality is as “shocking” and “deviant” as bestiality. It uses a similar meme of the cowboy (or shephard or whatever) so emotionally isolated he can only express his secret longings in physical isolation and in constant fear of discovery.
The shadow puppet sequences of physical intimacy are there because showing the actual act would be far too “disturbing” and “inappropriate”, unlike normative male-female sex. And the scenes of him turning away from his wife in bed (and presumably family as in Brokeback), his wife wielding the humungous dildo and recounting the visit from animal services, show just how dangerous such deviance can be to the traditional family structure.
I certainly don’t believe it’s the intent of the parody to compare homosexuality to bestiality in a serious way, but to tease out the themes of Brokeback that lead to a regressive and rather disturbing reading of it, unfortunately a reading that much of the movie-watching public may walk away with. The parody is, somewhat paradoxically, the kick in the butt that Brokeback needs for me to walk away from both films feeling integrated as a queer with a chance of living as a respected human being in a diverse and accepting society.
I won’t even begin to delve into the morality of such relations with animals… that’s a topic for another day.
Another person quoted on the list who saw the parody quipped that it explored “the Love that dare not speak its neighm.”
