POETRY: The Blessing of the Least/God on the 1 Train

The Blessing of the Least/God on the 1 Train

 Madre de dios
 Your hijo in one arm
 a sign of the times in the other
  
MOTHER. LOST MY JOB. HUNGRY. 
HELP ME. FEED MY CHILD

of God whispers una bendición
 I can't hear through my headphones
Avicii spinning
as the blessing of the least settles on my skin
resurrecting goosebumps
I have never received a truer bendiction
Gracias a Dios
que me bendiga

Feed us all.

Amen.

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-New York, NY
-April 12, 2012

Holding Our Own Accountable: Thank You NY State Sen. Diane Savino

This morning, I woke up freezing in my apartment. New York (and seemingly the rest of the northern United States) missed the memo that it is May. I want to fly up into the heliosphere and punch the Sun in the face.

After taking the Mimz for her morning constitutional and walking passed the sink full of dirty dishes that will, at some point, claim the better part of an hour or so this morning, I logged into my Facebook account.

The top entry on my news feed was a post by NY State Sen. Diane Savino. It was a post in response to a statement released by a member of the Oneida Nation regarding the use of the code word Geronimo by the U.S. government as a moniker for the operation against Osama Bin Laden (Dumb Obama. Dumb Sec. Gates. Dumb Leon Panetta. Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb). I learned very quickly that the gentleman that wrote the letter, despite the letter's spot on criticism of the use of the name and history of Gerinmo and the impact on First Nation's people, isn't the best character running around Indian country.

Unfortunately, Sen. Savino chose a poor moment to make a statement about this gentleman's shenanigans (and fiscal malfeasance).

Let me NOT be the person to throw stones whilst I live inside a big old glass house surrounded by glass covered in glass in glass pajamas eating glass for breakfast. I, myself, have more than once, in anger or annoyance, popped off at the mouth (and/or fingertips) and posted something to Facebook that I hadn't thought through. Thankfully, I am a part of a broader community that has no qualms about letting me know, almost always firmly yet lovingly, that what I have written or said does not serve justice nor is it reflective of the person they know me to be. Sometimes the things I've written flippantly have stung folks in ways that I never intended nor would ever do intentionally. Though, like most people, I do not, in the moment, love the feeling of being held accountable (usually my cheeks catch fire, my back starts to get up, shame starts to creep in and then anger at the person that summoned the shame---actually me...but better to blame the accountability vessel.) After those emotions run their course, usually just a minute or so, I try make amends around whatever it is that I did or said. I also acknowledge the love and committment to my personal growth that is evidenced by someone taking the moment to hold me accountable to my words and actions with love and respect.

Don't get me wrong...now and again....I let the other person have it or politely honor their feelings without removing the offending item or statement; there are times when I stand by whatever thing it is that may have caused offense (just because someone feels offended doesn't mean that what you've said or written isn't truth).

We all make mistakes. I make them all the damn time.

This morning was one of those moments where Sen. Savino's statement of annoyance was absolutely well founded...but tying it into the place where it appeared was not cool. If Sen. Savino were a Republican or one of those queer hating faux Democrats that seemed to be sprinkled throughout the state, I would have cut and pasted the Facebook conversation verbatim and then tore the good senator a new poop hole.

I actually highly and deeply respect Sen. Savino. She has been an amazing advocate for justice in Albany and for the queer community, and so, instead, I shared with her my feelings. The senator responded respectfully, made the choice to remove the posting and the thread, and sent me private message letting me know she had done so. Thank you, Sen. Savino for your integrity and for making the choice to get your message/point across in a different way. If the rest of your colleagues around the state and in the U.S. Congress were as responsive and open to dialogue as are you, perhaps we would not be facing so many of the partisan bullshit problems that have us stuck on ugly in New York and the U.S. as a whole.

When we take a moment to honestly share our feelings and offer to hold our own accountable, we demonstrate what community and growth is really about. If we are only ever willing to step up and stand up to the "bad guys," or those that are often times far far from us in our beliefs and views, then we aren't making sure our own house is clean. Let those others live in a dirty house (as long as they keep their yard clean and their trash out of streets, I don't care how filthy their living room is...as long as they don't have body parts in the freezer or tongueless ex-lovers in leather gear in a box under the stairs). I value when others hold me accountable (and let's be clear...passive aggressive "teaching" moments are not accountability...accountability is when you bring your questions and concerns DIRECTLY and RESPECTFULLY). My esteem for Sen. Savino has gone up exponentially after this morning's brief exchange. Thank you, senator.

PS On the topic of the use of Geronimo's name as code for Osama Bin Laden is a great, clear, and succint statement from the Ononadaga Nation Council of Chiefs

PPS And here is a great article by Steven Newcomb of the Indigenous Law Institute on the same subject.

Lady Gaga, The Robin Hood Foundation, and the Hetrick-Martin Institute

Hey my friends! Take a minute to read this and cast your vote many many many times. I am a member of the Young Professionals Council of the Hetrick-Martin Institute. Please support our young people!

Lady Gaga and Robin Hood Foundation: $1 Million for NYC Youth

VOTE for HMI to win $500,000!

Starting today and continuing through 6:00 am eastern standard time Friday, May 6th vote for HMI to win $500,000!

In a historic initiative, LGBTQ activist and ground-breaking artist Lady Gaga has partnered with the Robin Hood Foundation to launch an interactive contest through Facebook, of which Hetrick-Martin is a principal partner!

Lady Gaga and Robin Hood are partnering to donate $1 million between five New York City-based youth services charities. Awards will be split determined by an online vote present on Lady Gaga’s Facebook page. The group receiving the most votes will win $500,000. The winner will be revealed on May 9th at Robin Hood’s annual gala.

This contest affords Hetrick-Martin the ability to provide counseling to more LGBTQ youth and their families, clothe more homeless LGBTQ youth from our onsite Pantry, administer more free HIV tests, and serve more meals in the Café. With young people coming out earlier than ever before, the need for our unique services has increased at an unprecedented rate.

To vote you must have a Facebook account. Voting is easy:
Step 1 Go to Lady Gaga’s Facebook page by clicking here
Step 2 Click “I Like” to be able to vote
Step 3 Click on the Vote tab and choose The Hetrick-Martin Institute
Step 4 Click on the submit tab to cast your vote

You can vote as many times as you want!

A donation of this amount can have a tremendous impact on HMI and the work we do providing a safe and supportive environment for LGBTQ youth to achieve their full potential.

How you can help:
VOTE for HMI, and vote frequently! Remember you can vote as many times as you want.
Forward this Facebook link to your friends, family and colleagues.
Post on your Facebook page, forward to your friends and Tweet about it.

To learn more about The Hetrick-Martin Institute, or to make a donation, please visit www.hmi.org

One Liner of the Week Award: Sweetie

Like most queer homosexual gays of my generation, I saw "Too Wong Foo," in the theater. The opening of that movie, from Salt-n-Pepa's Body Beautiful to the drag pageant, was perhaps the best opening of any movie ever. EVER! Don't argue with me.

I can remember distinctly when the busty drag queen MC walks on stage in her tiny hat and says, "HELLO HELLO HELLLO!" Never in my gayest dreams did I ever imagine that one day I would not only meet her but also give her the One Liner of the Week Award.

Here's the story.

Last night, David, Vinnie, and I headed down to the Times Square Comedy Club to see our friend Chad Pace aka Divine Grace in a drag queen lip synching game show audience interactive play:"The Ultimate Drag Off." From the beginning, the super campy show was awesome. As folks were being seated, a cheap Russian whore aka Sweetie's daughter, made her rounds from table to table telling us to to "wote" aka vote in each round. She was also the only biological girl in the show.

As the show swung into full effect, Sweetie took the stage as the game show host. She was fantastic. She worked the crowd like a true performer, and her comedy was on!

At one point, she was talking about Jennifer Hudson, and then said something in drag queen Spanglish, which is a little known dialect of Old Homo, when she spotted me in the front row and said to me, "That was for our Latin brother, ummmm, or Asian, ummm...or whatever bastardized mix you happen to be."

And that, ladies and ball tuckers is the One Liner of the Week Award.

I later forgive her for her light dash of racism when she said that I was hot and looked like Michael Yeoh from E! TV...if, that is, he would come out of the closet.

Do yourself a favor, if you are in NYC, go and see "The Ultimate Drag Off," tell Sweetie that Michael Yeoh's gay cousin sent you.

You and Me: Needs You and YOU! (New York and San Francisco!!!)

It is my hope that My Feet Only Walk Forward is a not only a vehicle for my own special moments (aka rantings, musings, and emotional vomit....see the footer below...it even says so...), but I also hope that this blog is challenges folks; helps folks think through their own thoughts, feelings, and beliefs; sheds light on some of the ways in which the world works; promotes and highlights amazing artists, organizers, performs and their work; and helps connect people to one another through the inter-webs (please note connects PEOPLE to one another...not people to computer monitors). As I am approaching my 500th blog entry here at My Feet Only Walk Forward, and as I have looked back over the last three years of this blog, I have noticed, with much love and pride, that this blog is becoming more and more of the things I hope it will be. I appreciate all of you that have brought your work to my attention, have suggested blog topics, have shown me love, and have used what you have found here in your own work. From classrooms to audition monologues, My Feet Only Walk Forward has gone places I never dreamed it would go when I posted my first blog three years ago this month. Thank you to all of you that have supported this work.

Today's blog entry is another example of the ways in which I hope to continue fulfilling the mission of this blog. My boy Kirk Grisham is a fierce researcher and tireless advocate in the area of HIV/AIDS research and prevention. He is currently the Project Director of the You&Me study at Columbia that is examining the relationships between black and white men. Please check out the information about the study below, and if you or someone you know are the folks that Kirk is looking to find, please get in touch with him! This is important work for the community, and it can't happen unless YOU participate.


You & Me Study!

Principles:
The You & Me Study is based on the principles of community-based research, which emphasizes the experiences and knowledge of its participants. Collaboration between academic researchers and community members is a hallmark of the You & Me study. Contributions of community members have been and are essential to the development and execution of the study; we value and respect your views. We know that couples are the experts on their own relationships; by speaking with us and reflecting on your experiences in your relationship, you are taking an active role in a project that will benefit the community.

What We're Doing
The mission of the You & Me Study is to gain a better understanding of relationship dynamics and the contextual factors that shape them in order to develop interventions to improve the sexual health of men in same-sex relationships. Little health research has focused on same-sex couples, and even fewer studies have included Black and interracial same-sex couples. Talking with couples will allow us to better understand the relationship context that men must negotiate as they make decisions that affect their sexual health.

Why We're Doing This
Men who have sex with men (MSM), especially Black and White men, account for the majority of HIV/AIDS cases in the United States. Even though about half of all MSM are in steady relationships, little research has focused on same-sex couples. Although there is compelling evidence that couples continue to be at risk for HIV, we know very little about relationship factors associated with risk. Our study builds on previous research in the ongoing Gay Couples Studythat has found that agreements between partners are important to reducing HIV risk. You & Me will examine how agreements and other relationship-based factors may influence HIV risk behaviors among same-sex couples.

For more information click here for the You & Me Study Facebook page.
And here you is the You & Me Study webpage.

One Liner of the Week Award: Kim Kortum

This last weekend, I was in Accord, New York with eight new friends for the first fall retreat of The Waking Circle. During a break in the day on Saturday, we went for a walk in the beautiful Catskills countryside.

As we walked through the woods, laughing and watching Tasmin the Dog bound around like a a little wood nymph, I was talking with Kim as we walked along next to Barbie and Tim.

Barbie, a vivacious crackerjack of a gal, steps over a log with a large cut off branch sticking straight into the air, grabs at her crotch area and screams, "Oh lord, I've been monkey bubbled!"

Kim and I blinked at each other like two little bunnies and then lost our shit.

I then said, "Sweet Jesus, she's been monkey bubbled in the cooter!" As we glared at the offending log and branch sticking up like a big middle finger in the middle of the woods.

And Kim, with a completely straight face said, "I think that if you get monkey bubbled in the cooter that you should probably go to the E.R or get a shot or something." She nodded sagely. I ruptured an internal organ from laughing, and Barbie finished the walk holding the inside of her leg.

And that, my little great apes is the One Liner of the Week.

Queer Allies to Muslims Ramadan Fast

I woke up this morning at 5:20am. The sky was just lightening, and David stumbled past me as I was squinting over a sesame seed bagel, trying to quietly apply butter to it, while Mimzy the Dog shook her head and tried to will me to drop the entire bagel situation on the floor.

Ramadan Mubarak!

Today is the first day of Ramadan a time of fasting, celebration, good works, and renewal in the Muslim community. It is a time to reflect on your life, let go of worldly obsessions, intensify your relationship with God, and build community. During this time, Muslims around the world gather before sunrise and after sunset for communal meals (Sahur and Iftar) and celebration. And, from sunrise to sunset, the Muslim community fasts: Muslims neither eat nor drink, unless physical or health needs dictate otherwise.

I am not a Muslim nor is my family, but this year I am participating in the Ramadan fast as an act of solidarity with the Muslim community. And I am asking all queer folks that are able to also join me in this act of support and unity with our queer Muslim family and the Muslim community as a whole.

I wrote an open letter two days ago to Mike DiSanto, an openly gay candidate for New York State Senate, who chose to use Islamophobia and anti-Muslim sentiment to further his political career (specifically his statement was against Cordoba House mosque which will be near Ground Zero). His actions were shameful and reflect extremely poorly on the queer community. In an effort to demonstrate to the broader Muslim community and specifically to our queer Muslim brothers and sisters, that not all members of the queer community are Islamophobes, I chose to commit myself to this fast for the month of Ramadan and to ask others to join me as well.

I am not as tough as some of my beloved Muslim family of choice, so I will be drinking water and juice during the day. Since announcing this call via Facebook, a number of folks have also signed up to participate and/or announced their spiritual support of our solidarity work even though, for health reasons, they themselves cannot participate. If you are interested, please consider signing up for our Facebook group.

This solidarity action is an act of love, and it is also an act of bridge building. The queer community often slams people of faith due to the many atrocities committed in the name of God. Yet, many of us are people of faith and understand that actions taken in the name of God and religion are actions of misguided and hateful human beings and not the fault of faith itself.

No major religion on the planet can claim a wholly peaceful history. Muslims, Hindus, Jews, Christians, and other faiths all have had evil and terrible works done in their name and often times in direct contradiction to the core of the teachings of the particular faiths. Murder in the name of Christ, jihad in the name of Allah, apartheid and oppression of Palestinians in the name of the Jewish faith, partition in India, Hindu fundamentalists, all of these are historical actions by human beings using faith as an excuse to exercise power. None of these actions are because of the faith itself. And we all know of tremendous people and acts of justice done because of an understanding and deep commitment to the love and peace at the core of each of these religions. We venerate heroes like Malcolm X, Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr, Susan B. Anthony, and so many others that were all people of faith.

And, frankly, we found out first hand what happens when the queer community discounts or ignores people of faith: Proposition 8. We lost that electoral fight because the enemies of the queer community knew that they needed to reach out and build bridges with folks that would normally not be their allies. The religious conservative right made intentional connections to African-American and Latino communities. For 20 years they reached out, provided support, created dialogue, and brought them into their way of thinking. And even though we all understand that the religious right could actually care less about people of color and our struggles for liberation, they understand exactly how to build with a community around an issue and find common ground in order to do so.

This fast in solidarity with the Muslim community, for me, is to recognize my commonality with Muslims as a person of faith. It is to create intentional connections and support of a community that is under siege. It is to demonstrate through action that queer people and queer people of faith support the Cordoba House project and see it for what it is: an act of generosity, vision, and community building originating in the Muslim community but benefiting the entire Lower Manhattan area and the people that live therein. And, this solidarity fast is an act of being an ally without asking for anything in return. My hope is that over the long term by showing my respect and honor for the Muslim community and Islam that, in time, I will participate in a shift in attitude that will create more and stronger support for my queer Muslim family. It is also my belief that by creating intentional bridges between the queer community and the Muslim community, we will create better, stronger, and long lasting mutually supportive relationships that will also demonstrate our love for our queer Muslim family. I will use an older but goody…none of us are free until all of us are free.

Asalaam aleikum!

Why Not To Boycott Target

For the last few days, there has been justified anger and disgust with Target Corporation's, and in particular, Target CEO Gregg Steinhafel's, support of MN Forward, a pro-business/anti-tax political action committee in Minnesota, which is supporting the rabidly anti-gay GOP candidate for governor Tom Emmer. Tom Emmer not only opposed same sex marriage but also he admires and is in close cahoots with the lead singer of the Christian band You Can Run But You Can Not Hide, which promotes the killing of queer folks.

Make no mistake, to use the vernacular, that is FUCKED UP.

The reaction, though from the queer community has been varied but, overall, has been without nuance, without tactic, and without any clear objectives or a path to reaching those objectives. Understandably, people are pissed off. I am pissed off. Target is based in my home town of Minneapolis. My first job was at a Target in a black working class neighborhood in North Minneapolis. I worked in the Target Corporation Legal Department in high school, and my Mother has worked in various Target stores for more than 20 years. Steinhafel's donation is a direct slap in the face to all of the queer corporate employees (and I promise you that Target's corporate staff is at least 25% openly queer), and the thousands of queer employees in Target stores across the country.

But the rush to call for a general boycott of Target stores is not only going to be ineffective and will not create the result that is wanted (an apology from Target and either a retraction of the donation or an offsetting donation to an LGBT human rights group), but a boycott will directly HARM the overwhelming majority of Target employees: the working class/below living wage workers that are the core of the Target workforce.

Even if the United States were not in the grip of a massive recession. Even if jobs, in general, were plentiful, to craft a response that targets an oppressed class of people in order to vindicate another class of oppressed people does nothing for justice and guarantees that systemic oppression wins in the end.

Here are the facts.

* Target is a huge company with an annual revenue exceeding $65 billion dollars with more than $2.5 billion dollars in annual profits.

* Target is a single corporation but its stores operate as if they were franchises. This means that each individual store is judged on its own merits and not by the company as a whole. When a single store under performs the losses at that store are passed on DIRECTLY to the employees AT THAT STORE by way of reduced work hours. Target has in the past simply closed under performing stores, displaced those workers, and opened a new store in generally more lucrative and more conservative markets within the same geographical area.

* The workers of Target are not our, well, target. The CEO of Target is, and it is the CEO, not the hourly wage workers that should be the focus of any protest action. I repeat working class people/low wage workers/and the underemployed are our allies not our enemies.

* And, in addition to the issues outlined above, Target is the single largest nongovernmental supporter of homeless and precariously housed youth programs in Minnesota. A drop in revenue will, directly, impact these most vulnerable in our community.

(Side note: There is a reason why corporate philanthropy exists. It is for JUST this sort of situation when a company tries to pull some shady business. It makes decision making around tactics harder. The community, therefore, must beat them at their own game WITHOUT using their tools)

In order for a boycott to truly be effective, it would need a mass movement in all 50 states over a sustained period of time that resulted in at least a 10% drop in overall revenue. That is not a possibility, therefore the energy could be and should be exercised in other more effective arenas.

A boycott of individual stores will directly result in hardships for low wage workers, some of whom will be queer, which will further a divide between queer folks and working class folks AND CONTINUE THE PERPETUATION of the myth that queer folks ARE NOT working class and are privileged and have ideals that are out of sync with working people. Thank God Queers for Economic Justice exists to support working class queer folks, and thank the creator that there are organizers like Susan Raffo, editor of Queerly Classed, that understand the connections between class and sexual orientation.

For these reasons...for reasons of unity with working class folks and queer working class folks an organized boycott of Target is WRONG and unjust. I do, however, support the right of individuals to express their personal outrage through making different shopping choices. This woman has made a personal and courageous decision to not shop at Target, and I support her specifically because of the tactic she chose to use: the media.

The media, viral or otherwise, is how this fight is going to be won. While it is nigh on impossible for queer folks to impact the bottom line of Target through a protest, we can win the fight in the court of public opinion. Frankly, Target prides itself on being a community based venture that CARES about the people it serves and provides artistic and social justice funding to ensure that the least have access. The way to get Target to pay attention is to slap their reputation directly in the face through creative use of the media.

Here's what I suggest:

1) If you choose to boycott target personally, use the model of UpTake.org, record your direct action and make it available widely on the web with a cogent discussion of why you are choosing to shop elsewhere.

2) In most major cities, particularly Minneapolis and New York, Target sponsors large artistic ventures--museums in particular. In New York, almost all of the major museums (Whitney, Guggenheim, MoMA, The Met) have free Target evenings at the museum. Organize a peaceful yet colorful and loud protest each week on the FREE NIGHT in each of these locales. Keep the protests loud and lively on these evenings. I guarantee this will generate personal buzz and garner media attention.

3) Perform direct actions outside of your local Target stores. Send canvassers from your local/state-wide LGBT rights organization to collect donations outside of your local Target. Create local media buzz around this issue.

The only thing that separates Target from Wal-Mart is Target's reputation. Attack the reputation, and you will, I promise get the results that five years of boycott will not win.

It is BEYOND TIME that our movement mature. Whether we are talking about war, poverty, racism, or religious intolerance, it is time that our movement, which includes individuals in all these other spaces/places/ and identities, to create bridges and recognize significant organizing and building moments and then UTILIZE those moments for justice instead of a temporary catharsis.

Queendom is Back! Bebe Zahara Benet at NYC Pride

In May, I was blown away watching Bebe Zahara Benet's debut one woman show: Queendom.

Well...the Queen is back.

If you missed the SOLD OUT STANDING ROOM ONLY show in May, then do yourself a favor...come see the show this time.

This time there are two showtimes, 7pm and 9pm, and the show is at a larger venue. So come out, check it out, and love it.

For more information click here: Queendom Show Times and Ticket Purchase Page.

I will be there, with VIP tickets in hand. Where will you be? Thursday, June 24th...join me at Monkey for Queendom presented by Embrace TV NYC.

If you are on Facebook, you can see the official invitation to the event.

Lena Horne

Last week, I found myself listening to the song, "If You Believe," as sung by Lena Horne, almost non-stop. Last night, Lena Horne left this world for the next one.

Dear Ms. Lena, thank you so very much for helping me to believe in myself. Rest in peace sweet spirit, powerful woman, child of Africa. You brought us love and lived with dignity during a time when dignity was denied to black people and most of all black women. I love you, Ms. Lena. We all do. Sleep well.


Lena

In dignity denied
during Jim Crow's time
you held your head
cocked to the side
smile curving
breasts and hips
taped up in black soldier's lockers
paraded across USO stages
staged a one woman war
to protest military segregation
marched in Birmingham
on Albany
because you believed
in your own freedom
free will to free yourself
and freed us
from head rags
and rag time
left behind minstrel shows
and showed the world
that black woman and sex symbol
are synonyms
made L.E.N.A
into an acronym: LUSCIOUS, ELEGANT, NEGRO, and ALIVE
you refused to hide
your sensuality or sexuality
the duality of living in a black/white divide
skin a passport and a barrier
harried by children that called you white
never white enough for Hollywood
you kept on
and kept us
keeping on
with song and dance and laughter
a beautiful sister
unafraid to be black
unashamed to be woman
unsurpassed as a human

Sweet mother
you've earned your peace
sleep well.

Ashe. Love. Lena.

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-New York, NY
-May 10, 2010

It's Time to Fight Back New York.

Last Wednesday morning, I was sitting in front of the computer, a glass of iced coffee in my hand, and our debit card in the other hand.

I logged into www.fightbackpac.com, opened the donation page, and made a gift of $250 to Fight Back New York Political Action Committee.

For those of you that know me well, you know that I am not wealthy. I work for a small non-profit magazine. I am a poet. And I spend dozens of hours a week supporting a number of justice movement efforts. That calculus equals a fulfilling life but a relatively low cash flow existence.

To bring it into perspective, $250 represents 20% of one of my net paychecks.

And I was damn happy to give the money to Fight Back New York, and I am about to tell you why.

Last year, 38 Senators in the State of New York voted against a law that would have allowed queer couples to get married.

Stop. Breathe. No, I have NOT sipped the gay marriage kool aid.

But whether or not I agree with the amount of resources spent on fighting for marriage rights in the face of other more pressing and more real justice issues in the queer community, I will be DAMNED if an elected official will cast a vote to deny what is, in truth, a basic right and then move happily along with the rest of his or her life.

Fight Back NY is not a queer marriage organization. It is a political accountability organization. It's sole purpose is to make it politically dangerous for Democrats and Republicans to cast votes to deny basic human rights to LGBT people. Anyone that has voted against a gender inclusive ENDA, anyone that has voted against the Dignity for All Students bill, and anyone that has voted against same-sex marriage legislation will be targeted by Fight Back NYC. I will never give money to Freedom to Marry or the HRC--their politics, agenda, and bullying of queer organizations that do not share their same centrist/reformist/sometimes down right neo-con policies is something I can not get behind. But as long as our political system allows for bigots to sleep at night after casting straight up wrong votes, I will happily give money to accountability organizations.

Fight Back NYC is such an organization.

The organization has no infrastructure, and its overhead is almost non-existent. Since it is being supported by Gill Action PAC, it can direct almost all of the money that is gifted directly towards unseating anti-justice Senators.

I subscribe to the philanthropic philosophy that you give until it begins to hurt. $250 was my upper limit. There are others than can give much more and others that can give less, but, whatever your capacity, I hope that you will give.

You can make a gift at www.fightbackpac.com.

POEM: Canis Familiaris

For Mimzy

Perched, she stares at me with challenging eyes
Like old Smaug on his stolen gold
It’s a challenge
to describe how she speaks without words
a sure touch to the leg
can mean so many things
depending on the tilt of her eyes
the heft of brows
the way she tests the air
but it always has meaning
even if I am sometimes too stupid to understand.

-Brandon Lacy Campos
-New York, NY
-13 April 2009

Theater Review-- Yank!: A World War II Love Story

The hardest part of seeing the play Yank! was finding the York Theater. Tucked away in the basement of the Church of St. Peter on 54th and Lexington, the street numbers magically jump from 601 to 649 Lexington, leaving this theater-goer at a loss to find 619 Lexington.

But do not fret, the theater is in the basement of the beautiful St. Peter's, and though I loathe the Upper East Side, I would make the pilgrimage to see Yank! every single night if my theater budget would allow me to do so.

This show was phenomenal.

The story opens with a young, presumably queer, man that has found an old journal in a junk shop in San Francisco. The journal chronicles the love story of Stu and Mitch, two men that find love at the height of World War II. Dealing with issues of war, sexuality, race, and cultural tropes all set to hilarious and sometimes poignant original musical numbers, Yank pulls at your heart strings and plays the audience like the cello hidden offstage.

The story is focused on the two main characters Mitch and Stu. Mitch, played by the lamentably straight but oh so gorgeous Ivan Hernandez, and Stu played by the presumably (and hopefully) queer Bobby Steggert, are well rounded characters brought to vibrant life by these gifted actors. I saw Bobby Steggert in the recent, and now sadly defunct, production of Ragtime on Broadway. He wowed in Ragtime, and he blew me away in this production. But, even with stellar performances by Hernandez and Steggert, the show was completely stolen by Nancy Anderson, the sole femme (though most assuredly not the only femme) in the production. Nancy played half a dozen or more female characters throughout the show from a plucky USO girl and a sultry blues singer to General MacArthur's right hand lesbian wo(man). And each time she took the stage a great production became brilliant. I will literally see that woman perform in anything she does from now on whether it be a shampoo commercial or a Roger Corman film. She was a phenom and her voice gave me goose bumps.

In the end, the cast included laudable performances by Jeffrey Denman (Artie) to the bubbly and infectious Pole played by Tally Sessions. The fact that this show brings back tap, evoking old time movies starring Bing Crosby and Danny Kay, makes this lover of Savion Glover, a happy camper.

This show, mark my words, will be going to Broadway. And it is a success that the Zellnick Brothers, David and Joe, rightfully deserve. My only complaint is that I had the opportunity to meet David after the show last night, but he was coming in from out of town, and he wasn't going to arrive until nearly midnight, and this writer was already dead on his feet.

Thank you to Bill Martin for making this show happen for me last night. And to the rest of you, GO AND SEE YANK! It is running at the York Theater until March 21, 2010.

For showtimes and more information on the show, including additional reviews, check out the Yank! Website.

PS Yank was actually a magazine published by the Army during World War II, and actual pages from Yank were posted on the walls of the reception area of the theater. Included in some of the pages posted was a picture of my hometown, Minneapolis, from the 1940s. Kismet I tell you.

Precious

Yesterday, Mo'nique received a Best Supporting Actress nomination for her role in the movie "Precious," the film based on the novel Push by Sapphire. She deserved it. Indeed, Mo'Nique, Mariah Carey, Lenny Kravitz, and Gabourey Sidibie should all just be handed Golden Globes and Oscars right now.

This movie was so good and so hard and so raw and so real that at times I felt as if I were a voyeur inside the real life of any number of young women that I see on any given day walking the streets of New York.

Precious deals with a range of issues from incest, physical abuse, teen pregnancy, literacy, HIV/AIDS, poverty, and race. The truth is that the American cinema rarely deals well with ONE of those issues, and most films that attempt to not only address more than one of these issues but also to demonstrate the very real interconnections between these issues and their attendant oppressions, usually the movie falls flat or has to resort to being a musical (Rent anyone?). This movie not only addresses these issues but maintains a realism that for anyone that has struggled with any of these issues, you feel as if your story is being told to you from the silver screen, and it is not always a comfortable feeling.

I saw this film with my friend Kenyon, and at one point, he just laid his hand on my leg in comfort, and I was glad to have him nearby. Watching this film with another person of African descent, someone that I know understands many of the issues discussed in this film, made all the difference. When the two young black women walked out of the movie after a particularly difficult scene, I didn't wonder why. Watching it is not for the weak of heart or for anyone that is not in a good head place and soul space.

But it is a movie that everyone should see. I think what made the movie work, and I came to this conclusion after a Facebook conversation with my friend Cindy, was that everyone in the movie was ridiculously humble. With the stars attached to this movie, it could have easily have become a Divafest. Anyone one of the megastars attached to the film could have out shined the newcomer, Sidibie, but they all understand that the story they were telling was greater than themselves. Hell, to be real, I knew Mariah Carey was in the movie, and I was staring right at her and did not register the woman on the screen with the pop star.

Do yourself a favor. Go and see Precious. I guarantee that no other movie that came out in 2009 is anywhere near the quality of this movie. Prepare for an Oscars sweep.

Ragtime on Broadway Fucked My Ass Up

So I basically spent the last two hours being angry as hell and crying like a little biznatch that got beat in the face with a morningstar dipped in acid.

Ragtime is the best piece of theater I have seen in a long damn time. It's better than Wicked, and since I named my penis Gregory McGuire after seeing Wicked...that should tell ya'll something.

Ragtime is a revival of a play from the late 90s. It is officially re-opening this Sunday at the Neil Simon theater just up the street from my house. Today was a preview matinee. A friend of mine, that I met through David, had extra tickets to the show and sent me a text earlier this afternoon to ask if I would like to see the show.

I had already had a midday cocktail as today was a day off for me, and I was debating whether or not I should go. Ragtime was on the top of my list of shows to see, so I figured I should get my lazy ass up off the stool and go check out the show for free.

I haven't decided yet if it was a good choice.

So, in a vacuum it was an excellent choice. The show was fucking phenomenal. The music was incredible, the performers were outstanding, the story was great and original, and the stage/sound/lighting are going to win this production a Tony.

In relationship to my mental health after two days of intense labor and already being soul tired before I went, it was probably a poor choice.

I didn't know what the show was about before I signed up to see it. I knew it had black folks in it, and I knew that it must be set in the late 19th and early 20th centuries as that was the hey day of ragtime music.

In actuality the show wove the stories of two Jewish immigrants, a well-to-do white American family, and a black woman and her child, and a Harlem based successful ragtime musician. The play addressed issue of workers right and industrialism. Emma Goldman figured in prominently as did JP Morgan and Booker T. Washington. The gist of the play is that a poor black woman abandons and then is reunited with her infant. What she thought was an itinerant musician tracks her down and tries to build a life for her. Unfortunately, she is beaten by whites and killed. As often happened, the legal channels of justice did jack shit to remedy the situation, and the musician goes ape shit and kills three white men. And I say halle-fucking-lujah to that.

Of course in the end, the black man is shot down by the authorities, and Booker T. Washington's assimilationist and white washed negro ass advocates for the wronged musician to trust the wheels of justice which roll right over the musician.

The entire story is told through brilliant musical numbers and frankly I cried from sadness and ridiculous anger.

I am so tired of being angry. I wasn't sitting in the audience angry at some historical injustice, I was angry because the EXACT SAME SHIT HAPPENS RIGHT NOW EVERY DAY AND NOT A FUCKING THING HAS CHANGED fundamentally. Sure, overt racism in the criminal justice system is no longer permissible but violent crimes against black men by the police have not substantially dipped in a generation, white cops that kill black men almost uniformly get off no matter HOW obvious it is that the shit that went down was a case of fucked up white men shooting down a black man who only had a wallet in their hand, and institutional and structural racism, though mitigated, remains rampant in so many ways. I love Obama but his election has meant little to jack shit in the substantive day to day realities of black folks living in America.

Didi I mention I am tired of being angry. I really am. I am so emotionally drained. I know that when I came home pouring a delicious vodka drink was probably not the best answer, but it was a readily available one. I know that my man is going to come home in an hour or so, and he should not be subjected to the ridiculous and irate feelings that are pumping along with adrenaline through my veins. But, seriously, right now at this juncture I am utilizing every tool that I have to just survive this rage without reverting to old drugging patterns or pulling out a hatchet and going Jason Voorhies on the asses of whatever poor white souls I meet on the street below.

I am sure tomorrow I will be my old chipper self again, but today I am pissed as hell.

Oh, and btw, go see Ragtime. It is worth the ticket price.

I Need a Three Day Nap

I have been holding my breath and walkin' on the tippy top edge of my toe nails for four months. From the day I moved to New York to start my life with David until last Thursday, I was in the front seat of a rollercoaster called Crazy with an extremely unstable, fried, strung out, drugged up, worn down, and angrily bitter conductor. On any given day, or any given moment within any given day, you would never know whether or not the conductor was going to snap and start screaming or invite you to catch the filming of the Wendy Williams Show.

If I were a guitar string, I would have snapped from the tension, curled up, and sliced my own face.

Three days ago, David's ex finally moved out. Yesterday, my best friend said that I must be doing jumps of joy and celebrating our ability to have our space without such a hurtful and wounded presence in the space.

Sweet Jesus, I wish that were so. I believe it will be so, but right now I am so damn exhausted (mentally, emotionally, and physically), that I can't begin to celebrate. Not quite yet. While I love being able to move throughout the apartment, take a piss, hop in the shower, or cook a meal without negotiating my emotional capacity related to my emotional well being and if I would be able to make it through chopping vegetables without launching the butcher knife through the back of old boy's neck. I am so worn down from the preceeding four months that it is quite literally all I can do to stay awake.

It is as if my entire being has begun to release all of the hurt, tension, anger, pain, frustration, indignation, and a whole host of other emotional baggage that settled cell deep in my body. I should probably have expected something like this, but I haven't experienced anything like this since childhood, when living in a home with that type of energy was all I knew. I should have remembered that when I finally left home for college and got out of that environment, it took me months and months and years and years to decompress from 17 years of non-stop (or rarely stopped) physical and psychic trauma.

You would think I would have learned to have some patience with myself. To quote my favorite Diva about to make a come back, "Hell to the No."

Unfortuantely, life doesn't necessarily pause in order for you to take the breaths you need. And Frank's leaving opened up new wounds in our home. He took our dog away. He took our friend away. He took our family away.

One of the things that made me so damn angry about the man, was that he used Tildon (the dog) as an emotional crutch, an emotional tool, and an emotional weapon. If Tildon were sitting in my lap in the studio, and Frank should walk in...within five minutes of him leaving the room, he would call the dog. If Frank got bad news or had a rough day, he would demand that Tildon be at his side, an emotional hostage, a "thing" to be controlled as a way to assert more control over this space. I got yelled at one time for walking the dog when Frank wasn't home, as I should have known that he wanted to walk the dog when he got back from wherever he had gone at whatever time he decided to come home. It killed him that the dog chose to sleep at night with David and I. And, more than once, as I lay taking a nap, he opened our bedroom door and bellow for the dog.

Nowhere in any of this or in any of his behavior was their a concept or a conversation about what was BEST for Tildon. It never occurred to him that when all of us were home that 85% of the time the dog CHOSE to be with David and I. If he wanted to go to the other room, we never stopped him. The Ex could not make the same claim. And, as a last ditch effort to cause as much pain as humanly possible, Frank took Tildon when he left. Anyone that has ever lived with me knows that waking me up from a nap for some bullshit is a good way to end up in a shallow grave with some quicklime thrown on your corpse.

Sure, David could have fought Frank for the dog. Even though Frank snuck and registered the dog as his own with the state. Even though David had purchased all of Tildon's food and paid all his vet bills (except the last one, which I helped pay). Even though it was clear that Tildon was happiest when he was with David. The hurt and pain and ugliness of the situation was such that to place that last burden on Tildon would have been too much. It was easier to let him go.

If that is easy, then I would like to assert that developing an affordable form of cold fusion should be a piece of cake in comparison.

And so, in the middle of our joy at finally having a negative cloud lifted from our living space, we have had to come to terms with the loss of a friend. It is my secret hope that one day, we will walk outside, and Tildon will be sitting on the front steps. He will look at us, lift up one paw, and underneath will be a a copy of Homeward Bound. On the backside of the DVD will be a note that says, "Bitches. How you gonna let that crazy ass man take me off to North Carolina. You are lucky I don't bite your faces."

I want to take a three day nap.

I know that in time the lethargy and sadness and tiredness will leave. I know that one morning soon, I will wake up and be energized and vibrant again. I also know that life is going to keep moving forward and moving us along with it whether or not we have the capacity to move through it and with it in the way we would like. Until then, if you need me, I will be in the living room, watching bad movies, and waiting for the sound of Tildon barking in the hallway.

The World Needs Bebe Benet: Come Out Tomorrow And Party with BeBe

Two and a half years ago, I met and fell in love with a consummate performer by the name of Bebe Benet. Through our interactions, I also came to respect and adore a man named Nea Marshall. They are one and the same. Bebe Benet was the winner of the first season of RuPaul's drag race, and she is someone that I am very proud to call friend.

Bebe has touched the lives of so many people, not least my own. Though she doesn't know it, one winter night, as I was in the grips of my addiction, a chance word and a sweet text message from Bebe, after running into her at a bar in Minneapolis, lifted me out of the place I was and gave me the strength and spirit to step onto a different path. Now I have a chance to give back.

Tomorrow night, from 7pm-11pm in New York, there will be a fundraising party (details below) to support the post-production of a documentary concerning Bebe's life. To get in is cheap as can be...and $15 to support a Cameroonian-Minnesotan that has changed my life and changed the way we think about drag is no price to pay at all. Come out, meet Bebe, bid at the silent auction and help me begin to pay Bebe back for her friendship and love.

EVENT NAME:

"The World Needs a BeBe": Fundraiser Party for BeBe Zahara Benet Documentary

EVENT DATE & TIME:

Wednesday, July 29 2009. After work: 7-11pm.

VENUE:

BLVD - 199 Bowery at Spring Street. 21+ only.

COVER:
Cash at door: $15 or $10 with RSVP to: party@workandserve.com

WEBSITE:
www.bebedocumentary.com

FACEBOOK EVENT PAGE:
http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=227938460712

TO MAKE A TAX-DEDUCTIBLE DONATION DIRECTLY:
https://www.fracturedatlas.org/site/contribute/donate/2367
EVENT DESCRIPTION:

Drag superstar BeBe Zahara Benet will be on hand to perform

World Premiere of our new fundraising trailer

NYC drag celebrity Mimi Imfurst will MC and perform alongside other special guests
DJ Barney Iller will spin

Barefoot Wine will be offering wine tastings and open bar for the first hour of the event
Amazing silent auction items available - bring your checkbook!


PARTY SPONSORS TO DATE:
Barefoot Wine, M.A.C. Cosmetics, Om Factory Yoga, Devachan Salon & Spa, D'mai Spa, Molton Brown, and Village Apothecary

FILM SYNOPSIS:

Nea Kudi Marshall is a goofy young Cameroonian man by day, and the staggeringly beautiful drag queen BeBe Zahara Benet by night. Since discovering his talent for female impersonation when he moved to Minneapolis from Africa only a handful of years ago, Nea has put everything he’s got into cultivating his craft. He his not a typical drag queen - his unique blend of dignity, spirituality, charisma and ambition set him apart from the others. Since 2006, we've been documenting his struggle to attain success on his own terms – while working to reconcile his unconventional career path with his family’s traditional values.

BeBe was recently named “The Next Drag Superstar of the World” by RuPaul himself as the winner of a new reality television show, RuPaul’s Drag Race (Logo/MTV Networks). BeBe now has an opportunity to move beyond lipsyncing to share his own voice with a huge new fanbase – but is his motherland ready to hear it?

PURPOSE OF BENEFIT:

The benefit is being held to raise finishing funds for our documentary film - specifically, enough to get us through our rough cut stage, thus putting us in a better position to attract distribution and finishing funds so that BeBe's message of positivity and self-acceptance can get out into the world.

BEBE: A DOCUMENTARY FEATURE FILM is a sponsored project of Fractured Atlas, a non-profit arts service organization. Contributions in behalf of BEBE: A DOCUMENTARY FEATURE FILM may be made payable to Fractured Atlas and are tax-deductible to the extent of the law.

NUMBER OF GUESTS EXPECTED:

appx 400-500

TYPES OF GUESTS:

Professionals in filmmaking, media, the arts, advertising and the GLBTQ community.

Pinot Grigio

If I could, I would have my left breast surgically altered so that it spouted ice cold Pinot Grigio when I squeezed my nipple. If I could get away with it...I would get Pinot Grigio flavored Zoloft...name my child Pinot Grigio Lacy Berube...and write a love song called You Rubbed My Pinot Grigio The Right Way.

I LOVE me some Pinot Grigio.

A couple of weeks ago, a new wine shop opened up two blocks from my house (street blocks...not avenue blocks...FUCK avenue blocks...long ass bitches...you need a goddamn Sherpa and a star map in order to navigate two avenue blocks). I love this shop because 1) it is light and airy and filled with glistening bottles of wine, and 2) it's cheap as hell. Every time I go there I leave with a magnum cum laude degree in Pinot Grigo Science for only $12. Hot damn.

Though I do have to say that whenever I walk in and the little Asian girl is working...she sees me and starts to giggle. I want to tell her...this ain't Memoirs of a Geisha bitch. Stop gigglin' at me behind your fan.

But that would be racist and wrong.

Plus, she has a good reason for laughing. One day, in a galaxy just down the street, I was picking up a bottle of vino for my girl Denisse's graduation party. New York, unlike the rest of America, doesn't give a fuck about hygiene, so there are dogs in every nook, cranny, and orifice up in this piece. So this day, there happens to be a scary lookin' werewolf German shepherd up in the store. The dog had his back to me as I walked up to the counter. Now, perhaps the dog was old and deaf or a special needs dog...but he didn't hear me walkin' up until I was about a half a foot away, and then the damn thing jumped, spun around and started pullin' a Kujo...which made me jump and scream like a little biyotch. Everyone up in that piece got a good giggle out of that.

Bitches.

Yet not even rabid Old Yeller Rabie infested Hell Dog German Shepherds can keep me from my sweet sweet pinot grigio. Which, incidentally, means "A Grape So Good That You Will Drink It and Call Jesus' Name" in Italian. It's true. Ask the Pope.

So here is to my soul mate...Pinot Grigio...you don't have a penis...but I still love you.

Minnesota Part One: Isn't It Romantic?

So a lot of life has happened since last I wrote. Iran had an election, and, in keeping with recent U.S. tradition, we still don’t know which candidate is president. The New York State Senate is still in a deadlock with a locked chamber and a bunch of lunk heads screaming at each other on NPR. Obama caved on the Defense of Marriage Act but signed an executive order extending benefits to the domestic partners of federal employees, and Chastity Bono is a big old tranny named Chaz (I called that one ages ago).

As The World Turns…

Last week, David and I began a whirlwind tour through the great state of Minnesota. Speaking of not knowing election outcomes, Al Franken has not yet been declared the winner of my home state’s Senate seat, but Norm Coleman has been ordered to pay roughly $100,000 in Franken’s court fees since Coleman lost several appeals already. Teeeheee.

David and I hit the tarmac running…shortly after arriving, we found ourselves surrounded by bright sunshine and a rental car. We cruised down 35E to St. Paul, with a quick stop for some Taco Hell. And by Hell I mean that once that grade D beef hit my lower intestines, the gates to Hell opened in my anus and let forth a stench like the Devil’s breath after rimmin’ a dirty hole with a yeast infection. It was just that nasty.

We got to downtown St. Paul, and we met up with my old friend Aaron Keith. A big old delicious hunk of a mocha man with vocal chords that could melt butter. AK was a dear heart and volunteered to loan us his condo while we were in town. He went off to stay with his boyfriend Jerry (we’ll talk about her in a minute), and he gave us the keys to the condo. It was spectacular. After a quick shower and change, David and I headed off to have dinner.

We shot down 35W and headed to Powderhorn Park. The best damn neighborhood in Minneapolis. There, tucked onto a street just across from the park, is the Purple House…home of Susan and Rocki and Luca and Flo and Kelly Brazil. At any given time, I have known Susan and Rocki to have anywhere from two to six roommates in addition to their daughter Luca, cat Patzo, and a couple different canine inhabitants. Also a gecko…we can’t forget the gecko. We were met on the sidewalk by a jump ropin’ Luca Peluca head. I scooped her up and gave her a bear hug. She jumped down and darted into the house…and out came Mrs. Raffo-Simoes…who gave me one of those love hugs that reaches right inside of you and makes everything absolutely ok. I introduced her to David, and it was love at first site between him and her. That made me happier than a clam in the ocean with plenty-o-plankton to eat.

Susan made up a lesbo-licious batch of goodness…some roots and berries and the like. Rocki came home, and I about did a high kick….and we all sat and visited and caught up. Just being near Susan and Rocki changes my whole outlook on life…I can be the saddest most forlorn creature…a spittin’ image of Gollum and those two, without coddling or condescending, turn me right back into a jolly furry footed hobbit. And I got the hairy toes to prove it.
We left Susan and Rocki’s well fed and wishing Susan well as she was leaving on the MS 150 bike ride from Minneapolis to Duluth the next afternoon. After some sidewalk chalk time with Luca and a surprise visit from Nicole and Alejandra, we headed back to St. Paul.

Aaron Keith is an amazing jazz singer, and it just so happened that he had a gig directly across the street from the condo. Now, by the time we arrived, David and I were about to fall over from exhaustion. Jet lag between the East Coast and the Midwest is a bitch

The bar where AK was performing looked like a cross between a Hooters and an old Prohibition speak easy. I was waiting for Dillinger and a go go dancer to walk in at any moment. Instead we walked in to find Aaron Keith croonin’ and Jerry, his boyfriend, channelin’ his inner Negro.

About seven or eight years ago, I was dating a guy named Rich. On Valentine’s Day, Rich and I went to see Aaron Keith perform at Jazzmine’s in downtown Minneapolis. At the time, AK sang “Isn’t It Romantic,” to us. I have been hooked ever since. I love that song, and I love his arrangement of the song. Moments after walking in, AK said to the audience that he had a friend in from New York City (doing his best Pace Picante Sauce voice)…and then broke into the song. At the end he looked out and said that I must have an old soul to love that song. Later that night, while having dinner at Mickey’s Diner, I was singing another old song from the juke box, and an elder woman came over and asked me how I knew the words to that song…saying, “That song is from when I was a girl.” I may have been born in the 70’s but my soul was manufactured around 1935.

But back to Aaron Keith…or more specifically…his boyfriend Jerry. Jerry was a trip. The man is one of those white guys that loves black men and, after a couple of drinks, turns as black on the outside as they feel on the inside. Jerry tried to get really ghetto on me, and I had to ignite my inner negro and shut him down. Which I did. Rather quickly. You may feel black on the inside. And lord knows you have had enough black inside of you…but I am black…step biyotch. Jerry was fun. A little over the top (which is about the only thing about him that is a top)…but he was fun. And…I can see why AK tears that booty up.

After returning to the apartment and discovering that somehow in the preceding hour our key had ceased to function, we returned to the bar, got AK, and got our asses into the apartment and into sweet oblivion. I am exhausted just remembering it, and that was just day one of our Minnesota super tour. Rah rah for Ski-u-Mah!

Hot Daddy III: The Power is Ours!

I have been asked, recently, about how things are progressing with Hot Daddy. Let me tell you.

When we last left Hot Daddy, I'd just discovered his name: Benem. Since then, David and I have run into him a number of times at the gym...generally as we are leaving and his is coming, or when we are coming and he has just came (literally...we usually see him as he is leaving the steam room...his towel held out in front of him...hiding ummm...ample evidence...and I mean AMPLE evidence of what he has just been up to). Indeed, I have even run into him by myself, and I have chosen not to return to the steamroom playland with him.

It is driving him nuts.

Now...I have been known to be jealous. I am working on that. Benem is generally extremely respectful. He is also very hands on. The other week, David and I had made a trip to see Butterfly Kisses (Marcello at the Astor Place Barbershop), and our hair was lookin' fly as hell. Benem took much notice, and put one hand on David's waist and cupped the back of David's head. It was both a natural touch but also very personal. I almost went postal. He also makes sure to let me know when he is around...the same day of the Great Haircut Caper...he had also passed behind me while I was on a cardio machine and touched my back and waved.

I don't think he is used to having anyone...let alone two people...not fall immediately for his charms...broad chiseled chest...tight ass...and tree stump dick.

When we see him, he makes sure to let us know if he was at the gym, and we weren't. As a matter of fact, just the other day he mentioned that his partner was in town from Ft. Lauderdale, and he wanted to introduce David and I to him. It was at this point that we discovered that Benem doesn't actually live in NYC. I thought the man tanned all the damn time. Turns out he lives in Florida and is a flight attendant.

The fact that he wanted to introduce us to his partner, totally threw me for a loop. The mystery of Benem deepened. Does he want to do some sort of Wife Swap thing? Is he lookin' for a giant Octupus man orgy...eight limps flying and flailing and spanking? Does he want to show off what is sure to be another beefy hotty or ripped pixie like my own love?

All we know for sure was that, once again, he made sure to engage us in long conversation in a way that I have never seen him do with anyone else in the gym...and...once again...this was while we were standing in the locker room...he was naked save a whistle and an artfully held towel.

The man wants us or wants one of us. I reported on his ass grab of me. He also walked behind David one day and stuck out his tongue like he was rimming my man. When we are on the exercise floor, the man positions himself so that he is always within our line of sight...even carrying free weights to an area of the gym that makes it obvious that he is making sure that he can see us. And this is not guess work...once he told us that he would be watching us from a distance on the floor as he would be working on different body areas that day...and another time...he made sure to tell us that he would see us down there...and that day...he was everywhere we went...with a smile or cruising David.

It is confusing, exciting, sometimes angering because of my jealousy, but also fun. What happens next, no one knows, but he did make sure to tell us when he would be back in town. As David put it...we have the power in this situation. When I realized David was right...I felt a shift in internal attitude that I hope I can maintain.

More on Hot Daddy to cum.