CityWOOF

I just finished Michael Tolliver Lives.  I’ve been reading it very slowly, savoring it, really.  Sensing that it was going by too fast, I’d go back and re-read paragraphs and entire chapters, just to prolong the inevitable, to make it last as long as possible.  As I got closer and closer to the very last page, I resisted hard, reading sentences again, going back, back, trying to make it last.

Moments ago I read the last, devastatingly sweet sentence.  Tears are still on my face. I have never read a book that resonated so deeply with me.  I can’t imagine that I ever will again.

What a gift, what a great writer.  Thanks again, Armistead Maupin.

At the end of October 2005, I went on my first cruise: Bearvoyage 2005.   My friend Stuart and I decided to do it together, and share a cabin.  Everything was set, paid for…good to go.  Then Stuart met Donne, and suddenly the cruise got complicated.  They both assured me it wouldn’t be any problem, I wouldn’t end up being a “third wheel” or anything.  We’d all be buddies, the Three Musketeers!

…..Yeah….

So anyway, Donne paid for a cabin upgrade, which was nice, and we set off.  I did end up being pretty well invisible.  I was the hanger-on to a couple on their honeymoon.  Nice, huh?  Not so much!  When they wanted to fuck or bring a trick into the cabin, I would politely leave or go hang out on the deck.  Whatever.  I still had a good time on the cruise (although I have learned a couple of things - I will never again go on a vacation expecting it to be all about sex. That never works out for me…it has to be someplace fun and if sex happens, great.  I also learned that cruises are for couples, not single people).

By the time the cruise was over and we were back in Fort Lauderdale, Stuart, Donne and I were barely speaking.  I don’t really know why, they just for some reason “got over” me.  It was probably my fault…I hadn’t gotten any sex and was pretty much wandering around the cruise alone, having been abandoned (even for dinner) by my other 2 “Musketeers”….I had an attitude and was having a private little pity party,  complete with a stiff upper lip.

So this is where Shawn comes into the picture.  The cruise is done, I had a disappointing time and was at a resort sharing a room with 2 people with whom I was barely exchanging civil words.  And then along came Prince Charming…

I don’t know who saw the other one first, but our eyes locked as I was coming down the stairs and he was walking down the hall towards me. And I Am Telling You…..it was  Tony and Maria at the gym dance for me.  Lights dimmed, everyone else froze in space/time and spotlights illuminated me and Shawn.  Not with romance, but with certain lust….and something more….

Shawn is tall, blue-eyed, bearded and furry.  Shawn is a fantasy from a porn story in a magazine come to life.  Shawn is sweet, intelligent, funny, sexy….to me, Shawn is the perfect man.

There were a lot of bears at the resort that afternoon and evening. But Shawn, whom I would normally consider to be out of my league, was only into me.  I couldn’t believe it.  He got into a deck chair next to me and we chatted, both naked.  At one point his hand brushed against my arm, and I became immediately hard.  I’m not shy, so I just lay there in front of everyone with this gorgeous man chatting me up, dick hard as a rock.  I noticed him looking at it, but he didn’t say anything.  We talked some more, and Shawn moved the table that was between us, then pulled his deck chair right next to mine.

“Need to get a lot closer to you.” he said.

Well, it just intensified from there, slowly.  It was so damn erotic.  A real build, a slow burn, until we ended up getting off right there in the deck chairs, as the sun went down.  After we shot our loads, I looked around and everyone was gone.

That wasn’t the end, we went into Shawn’s room (his partner was at the local bathhouse…yes, Shawn is partnered…imagine that!)  We had the most amazing sex I have personally ever had.  There was this incredible connection…I don’t know how else to describe it.  It was so intimate, so hot…so sweet and cool and unforgettable.  And then we did it again…

At about 3 am we finally had to break apart…I had to go into the room with the wicked stepsisters and he needed to get into his own bed.  I had an early flight out in the morning. We had a really hard time letting go of each other….I felt like a teenager in love for the first time, I really did.  We finally managed to disengage….it made me sad.  I didn’t want to let go of him.

We stayed in touch by phone and email, having frequent phone sex.  He bought a copy of the porn movie I was in and would watch it while we talked on the phone…it was hot. This went on for quite awhile.  We have our own sexy way of signing off in emails.  I’m not going to share it here…but it’s damn hot.

As is normal, things have cooled over the last year and half.  He has his life in SoCal and I’m here in Portland.  He’s got a partner and dogs and a career and friends….he isn’t mine and won’t ever be.  But we still keep in touch, sporadically.  He has started reading my blog (Hi Shawn!) and I even got to spend a few days with him in a Seattle hotel last year.  Mmmmm….mmmm I have such memories and images of that weekend…mmmmm

Shawn commented on my previous post, said he is proud of me and loves me (”always have”).  Check it out, it’s there.  I love him, too, always will.

A whole new chapter of my life begins next Monday, July 2! But first, a little history:

Dictionary.com defines invalid as One who is incapacitated by a chronic illness or disability.

I became an invalid on March 23 with foot surgery with a recovery period of 2 1/2 months. However, I guess I really became, according to the above definition, an invalid in 1995 when I went on Social Security disability for hiv. I was diagnosed with the virus years earlier, somewhere around 1991.

When I moved to Portland in 1994, I got a really cool job at a nifty downtown location, and was very excited about the $7.25 per hour I was going to make. I made quite a splash on the job, everyone liked me and I was feeling pretty well locked-in to a great future. Then, one day during my second week on the job, I began feeling really sick. I went to work, but was so ill that, by the time the shift was over, I could do nothing but lay my head down on my desk. I had no health insurance or doctor, so I found a clinic that I could go to. I headed off, slogging through the pouring rain and cold with no umbrella, and made my way to this clinic.

Upon arrival at the front desk, I announced my name - and promptly passed out. Apparently I clonked my head pretty well on the floor, too. I woke up on a gurney, concerned faces surrounding me. Tests had been run, and I was informed that I had a pretty serious case of pneumonia. I also had only 17 T-Cells.

I called my boss at my shiny new job and let her know that I had pneumonia and wasn’t supposed to go to work for about a week. She told me that they wouldn’t be able to keep me on, I was in my 90 day probation period and, pneumonia or not, had to come to work or be let go.

So…17 T-cells and pneumonia…fired from new job….time to go on disability! And that’s what I did, and that’s where I’ve been for the last 12 years. It took a year to finally get on. That was an interesting year. Once I did get on, I worked part-time, always careful to never earn more than I was “allowed” to earn without that money affecting my disability benefits.

This Monday, I am going back to work full-time. I got a job at a large (global) financial corporation, and I am going off disability to go to work for this company. I haven’t worked a 40-hour work week since, well….I can’t even remember. It seems to be a great company, with great benefits and pay. Rated as one of the top Best Places to Work in Oregon. 6 week training period. 18 Flex days off, to start. I’m excited!

My meds are working well, and I am healthy. I am leaving behind my personna as this disabled person. I haven’t had a cigarette in 3 days and plan to never have one again.

I’m well, I’m excited, I’m moving on into the future as a healthy, happy person…not forgetting the past, but taking off the bandages and dropping the crutches and leaving the dark, empty room behind.  Wish me luck!

I hold, in my trembling hand, a copy of Michael Tolliver Lives, by Armistead Maupin.

I never thought the day would come. I am more excited than a kid with a Harry Potter novel.

When Armistead Maupin was in Portland on a book tour for The Night Listener, I asked him, in a crowded room full of Tales of the City fans, if he would ever write another Tales book, and he said “Do you really think anybody would want to read about those characters now that they are in their sixties?” Well, yes we would. And now the day is here.

If you don’t know who Michael Tolliver is, or Armistead Maupin, or Anna Madrigal or what in the world Tales of the City is, well….I’m going to first squelch my impulse to smack you, then calmly tell you that Tales of the City is one of the most beloved series of novels ever written. WAY before Harry Potter, the Tales books begin in San Francisco in the 70’s and go all the way through til 1989.

But surely you know that. If you don’t, you have a universe of pleasure waiting for you.

“Perhaps the most sublime piece of popular literature America has ever produced….As with the Beatles, everyone seems to like Maupin’s Tales - and really, why would you want to meet someone who didn’t?” LAURA MILLER, Salon.com

This new book, coming 17 years after what we all thought would be the very last Tales book (Sure of You), feels like a long, sweet letter from an old friend. Have I mentioned that I am beside myself with joy at its publication? I’m almost afraid to start reading it, because that is the pathway to me finishing it. And I don’t want it to ever end.

The jacket of the book appears tattered and worn, a nice touch considering the subject matter.

In Michael Tolliver Lives, Armistead Maupin writes this wonderful character in first-person for the first time, which is probably why he claims this is a stand-alone novel and not the 7th Tales novel. Michael is now in his fifties, and is a guy like me: An aids survivor. One of the living witnesses of a war that is not over, that has decimated my generation. I’ve always really related to the character of Michael “Mouse” Tolliver (most gay men can), and now I relate to him even more. I feel like this book might as well be called Mark Brown Lives.

Have I mentioned what an absolute thrill it is that this book exists? That my friend Michael lives?

I want to publicly thank Armistead Maupin for this fantastic gift. I love you, AM; You are gorgeous and funny and sweet and wonderful. You are my writing idol. Thank you! Thank you! I love you! (He really is a gorgeous man, folks).

Whew. Ok, going to pick up the book now…

It was a fantastic weekend of furry, frisky, friendly men in Portland, Oregon this past weekend June 7-10, as the Oregon Bears hosted Beartown 2007. Hundreds of bears and cubs and their admirers from all over this country gathered at the Red Lion host hotel and then spread out (no pun intended) all over the city. Lots of money was raised for charity, and much fun was had by all. 2 new titleholders were elected: I received the honor of being voted Mr. Oregon Bear 2007 and bear artist Brent Marr will reign as Mr. Oregon Cub 2007.

Highlights of this year’s Beartown for me, besides being honored with the title, were (in not particular order):

Sneakin’ Out’s set at The Dirty Duck, part of the first-ever Beartown Music Jam. Sneakin’ Out is always amazing, but they really topped themselves Sunday at the Duck. All of the music jam artists were really great! Really!

The Portland Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence,
The Order of Benevolent Bliss‘ special Beartown Bingo at C.C. Slaughter’s with Sisters Anna Rexia and Noah Shame on the microphones, keeping it all really fun and extremely funny.

Candy Kayne, performer and emcee of the Saturday night main event (Dinner and Bear and Cub contest). She was funny, lovely, very sweet, totally entertaining. LOVE HER! Great singer, check her out if you ever get a chance.

All the love, hugs, support and compassion from my fellow Oregon Bears.

The whole thing was great. I had to hobble around with a cane, but I still had a blast. Everyone was sweet and wonderful and helpful and now I have a great opportunity to do some good for my community.

THANKS to the Beartown Committee, and ALL of the club members and board members. And special thanks to Steve Strong, Mr. Oregon Bear 2006 and Charles Hamm, Mr. Oregon Cub 2006 for all their help and support and all they did last year with their titles. Big shoes to try and fill.

Sister Anna

I’m getting around pretty well now. With my New Balance tennis shoes, I can actually sort of walk. I look like I’m doing an Igor impression, but I can move from Point A to Point B, and was even able to take the dog out for a walk on his leash and go to drive grocery store and carry stuff into the house! Very cool.

I went out for the first time in months, also, to Bear Happy Hour on Friday. It was nice to see the all the “peeps” and to get/give some hugs and kisses and do the schmoozy thing with da Bears. I love da Bears. This weekend is Beartown, our local fabulous Bear Run, and I’m going to run for Mr. Oregon Bear. My limping Igor impression should go over well during the underwear party, when I’m wearing my see-through camo briefs that barely cover my package.

When I went in for surgery, I had some money in the bank, gas was $2.24 a gallon and Rosie was rockin’ The View. Now, 2 1/2 months later, I have no job, no money, no Rosie and all the shows I watch on TV are going into reruns. It’s going to be a very interesting month trying to live on the $130 I have to my name. That pretty much leaves no room for driving, going out, smoking or socializing in any way, shape or form. I’ll be doing Beartown and Pride weekend while trying to spend not a dime.

I sure hope a job shows up soon. Part-time jobs are not easy to find. I have been looking, calling, and have uploaded my resume to Monster, Career Builder and Jobdango. Went on one interview in a suit and crutches. “Name 3 positives and 3 deficiencies about yourself”, he says. “Well,” say I, “I’m a problem-solver, reliable and I love a challenge. Deficiencies? I hate that question. Let’s see…I’m disabled, so I can only work part-time…I’m rather impatient…and, what else…hmmm….I’m kind of an attention whore. I like a lot of attention.”

I guess that wasn’t the best that question has ever been answered. I haven’t heard back about that job.

BUT, I have my health, I have Kathy Griffin (unless the cable gets cut off for non-payment), and I have my sweet, gorgeous dog who turns 12 next month.

I also dyed my goatee dark brown, so I could look better for this weekend.

Because who wouldn’t want a broke-ass, unemployed, poz 44-year-old in see-through camoflogue briefs with a dyed brown goatee?

Come on, that was a funny sentence.  The funniest humor comes from pain, it’s true.