Grit Men

 

The Wall Street Journal posted an article called “The 25 Documents You Need Before You Die” which is great, but the “before you die” part tempts one to procrastinate.  Since we don’t know when we’ll die, I’d say we all need these right now.

I’ve also taken it a step further with links to Legal Zoom, where you can get some of the listed forms as cheaply and quickly as possible.

I emphasize Advance Directives (Living Will)  on this list, to let your family and any medical staff know your wishes should you be facing death and not able to express your wishes regarding life support, etc.  This is incredibly important.  I mean, Terry Schiavo, you know?

So, I guess you know what to do with your Sunday…

Last Will & Testament • Living TrustDivorceAdvance Directives

 

 

I went for a walk with Mom today, and on these walks I often come away with an insight that neither of us ever intended.  Today it was about relationships.  My Mom was married six times; my Dad, seven.  I’ve had two significant relationships, each squeaking to the six-year mark.

Mom always said to me that when it comes to marriage, “forever” is about seven years.  When I married, I definitely married for life, but all of the longest-lived relationships I know of include some sort of outside sexual play, whether it’s acknowledged or not.  A few years into the relationship, one or both partners stray, a guest star is invited into the bedroom occasionally, or there is a an openness that develops.  It seems natural, and it makes me reconsider monogamy and marriage entirely, but not as you might think, or as I expected.

Instead of the forever vow and a gradual degradation thereof, I may favor a shorter, more realistic relationship entered by partners who know it will end not necessarily in death or divorce, but in a number of years when it has very simply run its course.

At that point, it can conclude – not in bitterness and anger – but with an evolution into a deep and lasting familial bond.  After all, we spend a number of years integrating a partner into our family; another heart beating in the body 0f the family, and ripping that heart out causes incalculable damage.  That’s not to say it couldn’t last a lifetime and end at a gravesite, but that wouldn’t be the expectation going in.

One scenario:

Two people meet, date, fall in love, become exclusive, meet each other’s families, cohabitate and marry (in either order), the whole time making promises of forever.  Thousands of fantastic memories are made and their families become interwoven.

A handful of years later, each begins to take the other for granted, in subtle, non-malicious ways, and the sex becomes less frequent.  They could opt to take stock of their union periodically, but the “forever vow” renders those moot.  They’re in this ’til death.

One of them may have an affair.  The other may find out, and offer forgiveness, but never forgetting.  As the patina grows on their wedding bands, the relationship earns its scars and the relationship that once made their hearts soar is now sagging under the weight of all of their professed forevers.  They fight.  ”Fuck me” has become “Fuck you.”  They go to counseling.

It may be that one of the two has hit a wall that keeps them from expressing any deeper intimacy.  It may be that one of them has let go of the dreams or personal care that once made them irresistible.  No matter what’s happened, they’re not having much fun, and time ticks on relentlessly.  Arguments turn into separations; separation begs divorce.  They fight over money and possessions.  Friends choose sides.  The fabric of the family is torn apart, and the two deeply mourn the loss of their partner, lover, best friend.  Eventually, they’ll cautiously re-enter the dating pool, scraping together whatever hope they can that the next relationship is better than the last.

Now the alternative:

Two people meet, date, fall in love, and as they decide to become exclusive, they commit to treat the other with the utmost love and respect, which includes an acknowledgement that the relationship will likely not last “forever,” but as long as it is healthy and generative for the individuals as it is the couple.  They may even include a prenup.

With that understanding, they meet each other’s families.  They don’t necessarily have to share their arrangement, but they certainly could.   Since there is a 50% chance their own parents are divorced, it could be a refreshing and enviable way to begin their relationship.  They cohabitate and marry (in either order, and if they must), and make thousands of fantastic memories, cherishing each of them even more, as they recognize the finite time in which they’ll get to make them.  Again, it doesn’t mean they might not make the memories “forever” but they aren’t setting themselves up for forever vs. failure.  Along the way, they take stock of the relationship, mending worn spots, and estimating the quality of their happiness, love, and agreement.

They may even take better care of themselves to keep things hot and interesting.

However many years later, each begins to take the other for granted, in subtle, non-malicious ways, and the sex becomes less frequent.  They reevaluate the relationship to determine if the hurdles are surmountable, counseling-worthy, or a sign that they are near the end of the relationship.  If one is tempted to have an affair, and the urge isn’t fleeting, that may be a good sign it is time to transition.

Their familial bonds need not be broken.  They lovingly and respectfully move on, and having known from the start that this day might come, there’s a pretty good chance it won’t be as difficult.

Imagine a butterfly landing on your open palm.  No matter how badly you wanted it to stay, you wouldn’t close your hand around it.  At best you’d damage its wings; at worst, you’d kill it.  Instead, you’d go silent and attentive, taking in each second, for each second could be the last.  It may linger longer than you expected.  It may move to your head, or shoulder, as you stand there elated and amazed, and then it goes on its way, and leaves you smiling and grateful.

Being men, we’re not impervious to the Cinderella myth, or to the concept of marriage as imposed by Judeo-Christian belief, and that can’t even be followed by some of its most devout followers… I mean, Newt Gingrich, for crying out loud.  I often think about how surprising and modern it would have been if my ex and I had stood in front of 150 of our black-tied friends and said, “‘Til we cease to feed each other’s souls, and contribute wholly and whole-heartedly to something that is greater than the two of us, and not taking from it.”  I bet it would have been a whole lot different.

 

 

I was on Grindr some time ago, on a Saturday night.  I didn’t feel like dealing with the bars; I just wanted a little entertainment.  I got a message from an anonymous user:

“The fact that you’re on Grindr on a Saturday night is why you’re 43 and single”

Then he disappeared, of course.  Coward.

But then, he was on Grindr on a Saturday night too.

An incredibly juvenile and insensitive message to send, but the guy had a point of some kind… so I went out.  Thanks, asshole.

(I also haven’t been on Grindr since, and I don’t miss it.)

 
saturday-mornings-capuccino

Every Saturday is the same these days. I get up around eight, walk the dog down Sunset to the Coffee Bean, tie him to the table, and go inside, not knowing what to order. It’s never the same thing. I haven’t found the right one yet. Even our temperate January is too cold for iced coffee, and there are too many memories associated with it. Espressos are too dark and bitter. I like my coffee light and sweet, like my men. Salted caramel is my drug of choice these days – and if you’re going to have an addiction, it’s one I’d recommend – but I had copious amounts of it over vanilla ice cream last night, on the couch, before bed, and Summer is coming.

I wait for my drink, which today is a double non-fat cappuccino in a glass – they’ll do that for you, put it in a glass, if you ask. It’s very nice. I look around. There are a few regulars, enjoying the comfort of knowing their drink and their regular place in the shop. Their devotion is enviable and unquestionable when you consider that, for some, the relished place is a hard oaken chair. But it’s “their” hard oaken chair, at least for a while. Occasionally, our eyes will meet and we will nod. It’s clear to them that I still haven’t found my drink, and nowadays, I’m drinking alone.

I look around the room, first for my ex and second for him, but not really him, as in someone else, but “the dream of someone else” like Meg Ryan said in You’ve Got Mail. Maybe even further removed than that: I wonder if there is even the dream of someone else inside me; if I have any dreams left, or if they’re best shaken off and replaced with pragmatism. I wonder if there will ever even be another him, and what the moments just before meeting him will be like. Will I even be paying attention enough to remember? I don’t remember most things. When does that cute little story that we’ll tell at parties actually happen? Being a writer, I’m writing the scene all the time, in my head, madly. Then I render my madness moot with the gentle reminder that even if he is there, and does meet me, I’m not ready to meet him – not even remotely.

Of course, I can still keep myself distracted with some flirting. Never hurt anybody. Continue reading »

 

Whether it’s a lover and his spending habits, or a parent and her eating habits, people know what they want – good or bad – and they usually aim to get it.

Instead of expecting to change them, we are better off determining if their way is something we can live with.  We don’t need to control it, or even make unwelcome recommendations.  We can state a case, but then we must leave it to them.

This is a story about control, your control, and you’ve got none of it.  Once I began to realize this, I enjoyed my life a little more, and had a whole lot less to worry about.

And nor do others have control over me, unless I allow it, heeding their advice and adding it to my own thought process.

 

If you’re going to be in a relationship, don’t be the ‘permeable membrane’ Liz Gilbert conjures in Eat Pray Love; don’t give up your soul; don’t lose sight of yourself. You want a partner, not a conjoined twin; you share an address, or a name, not a skin and vital organs. He fell in love with you, not an extension of himself; don’t let him – and yourself – down by forgetting that.

 

If you’re one of the countless people in Los Angeles who bought a Prius, you probably didn’t consider it a “luxury” car when you made the decision to purchase it. Maybe you thought that you were somehow saving the planet, not thinking about the ecologically-disastrous strip mines needed to produce nickel for the nickel-metal hydride batteries. Nor did you consider the cost or damage to our ecosystem when it comes times to ditch those toxic batteries.

However, the real reason most people bought a hybrid car was to save money on gas. It was pure economics.

The unforeseen benefit of a hybrid is its extended driving range. For example, Ford boasts that its Fusion Hybrid has a driving range of 700 miles. With that kind of range, you probably could cut your fueling stops in half (if not more).  That’s a luxury.

Many years ago, long before the word “hybrid” was in the car-buying lexicon, I discovered this luxury when I bought a 1995 Mercedes-Benz E300 Diesel. It is the best car I’ve ever owned (and I’ve owned more than 25 cars by age 50). That generation of Mercedes E-Class cars Continue reading »

 
juniper-ruby-cocktail-459x691

Britons drink it 1:1.  The American recipe calls for more juice, 1:5.  Some like a salty rim, and others like it clean.  However you drink it, the Salty Dog is a highball whose time has come, again.  Even Hunter S. Thompson would approve.

“The past two weeks have been relatively calm ones for me. Immediately after the Republican Convention in Miami, I dragged myself back to the Rockies and tried to forget about politics for awhile–just lie naked on the porch in the cool afternoon sun and watch the aspen trees turning gold on the hills around my house; mix up a huge cannister of gin and grapefruit juice, watch the horses nuzzling eachother in the pasture across the road, big logs in the fireplace at night…”
- Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail ’72

Salty Dog

1.5 ounces Gin (Hendrick’s is my personal favorite.)

5 ounces Grapefruit Juice

Salted or unsalted rim.

Straight up or on the rocks.

 
brad-pitt-smoke

Brad Pitt testifies to the power of fundamental choice, telling W Magazine that becoming a father inspired him to quit smoking cigarettes:

“In the late 90′s [Brad] was something of a slacker, ‘spending too much time smoking things I shouldn’t be,’ Pitt recalls.

‘I was asking, What’s it about? It couldn’t just be wanting a successful movie or something. Then I got more engaged, started studying more and [my] interests blossomed.’

“Pitt admits that his own mortality frightens him—’I’m scared to death of death,’ he says—and he also acknowledges that becoming a father inspired him to give up a deadly 20-year habit. ‘I quit smoking,’ he says when asked how family life has changed him. ‘That was the only thing that got me to quit. That was it. Done.’”

 
gigolo

Excited, curious, and a little envious at times: I’ve had a fascination with escorts ever since Mom told me the story of the “hooker with the heart of gold” when I was little.  And then there was the the visit to Miami, where we encountered a seven-foot tranny prostitute.  She was dressed in gold lamé and hitchhiking, or so I thought.  I was ten or so at the time.  Then there was American Gigolo, which I saw one sleepless night on HBO.  When Gere throws all of those new shirts on the bed, laying out his outfits, I mentally replaced my subscription to Boy’s Life with one to GQ.

When my grandparents died and my Mom moved to Virginia, I visited Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, with an eye to relocating there.  I was 25.  I checked into my first gay bed and breakfast.  The owner offered to arrange a “really, really good massage.”  I had an idea of what he was talking about, and felt the visceral rush of exhilaration when I replied, “Sure, why not?”  (Thanks, Grandma.)

Alexander was big, hairy, and Greek.  He was definitely over 40.  Prior to moving to Los Angeles, terms like Daddy and muscle bear weren’t in my vernacular, but Alex was both, and a fantastic masseur with big strong hands.  I’ve never been into Daddies, but one thing was certain, I felt safe and cared for.  What difference did it make that he was walking around the massage table completely naked, with a cock that looked like a foot of garden hose?  It truly was the massage I was after, although I didn’t mind the rest.

Weeks later, I moved to Ft. Lauderdale and my fascination intensified as I thought I’d walk a while in a hustler’s shoes.  I began frequenting a local gay dive, The Everglades Bar, on Dixie Highway, staggering distance from my apartment.  I soon grew bold enough to take off my white tank top and tuck it into the back of my shorts, on the walk home.  I’d teeter along the shoulder of the road, looking back frequently, but always making it home safely without incident or income.  It’s likely for the best: with my luck, my first trick would have been a cop.

So here I am at 41, and my obsession continues.  This week I had the excellent fortune to stumble upon a blog written by a 47 year-old escort.  First off, you have to hand it to a guy pushing fifty who holds his own in a field that is as much about youth as it is about sex.  It’s well written with as much style, craft, and heat as the encounters he documents there.  Check him out.

 

 
daniel-craig-4

Happy birthday to Daniel Craig, the man who brought the grit back to Bond.  I don’t have anything against Pierce Brosnan; he gave us the Bond we wanted at the time, but seasons change and heroes change with them.  We needed a Conneryesque, radical Bond, Fleming’s Bond: more Batman than Superman in terms of his shadowy past and mortality, and his unquestionable, yet battle-scarred ability to endure.

“Sean Connery set and defined the character. He did something extraordinary with that role. He was bad, sexy, animalistic and stylish, and it is because of him I am here today. I wanted Sean Connery’s approval and he sent me messages of support, which meant a lot to me.”

He had me in his first Bond film, Casino Royale, from the first shot, but cinched it when he was playing with his feet while on the phone with his girl, Vesper Lynd.  It’s that kind of regular-guy humanity that had been missing from the character for so long.

Then there is the low-cardio, low-carbohydrate physique detailed beautifully at askmen.com, and the La Perla swim trunks that launched a thousand Google searches.

Photo © 2006 Sony Pictures

“I go through life thinking it’s all going to end tomorrow.”

 
dalai-lama

The 14th Dalai Lama is truly an icon of wisdom. ”Dalai” literally means “Ocean” in Mongolian, and is a translation of the Tibetan name “Gyatso,” while “Lama” is the Tibetan equivalent of the Sanskrit word “guru.” The two words together literally mean “Ocean Teacher” and signify a spirituality that is as great as the ocean.

At the start of the new millennium the Dalai Lama issued eighteen rules for living. A good friend sent them to me today. Auspicious really, as I found that lately, I’d forgotten one or two.

  1. Take into account that great love and great achievements involve great risk.
  2. When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.
  3. Follow the three Rs:
    • Respect for self
    • Respect for others
    • Responsibility for all your actions.
  4. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck.
  5. Learn the rules so you know how to break them properly.
  6. Don’t let a little dispute injure a great friendship.
  7. When you realize you’ve made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.
  8. Spend some time alone every day.
  9. Open your arms to change, but don’t let go of your values.
  10. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
  11. Live a good, honourable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll be able to enjoy it a second time.
  12. A loving atmosphere in your home is the foundation for your life.
  13. In disagreements with loved ones, deal only with the current situation. Don’t bring up the past.
  14. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.
  15. Be gentle with the earth.
  16. Once a year, go someplace you’ve never been before.
  17. Remember that the best relationship is one in which your love for each other exceeds your need for each other.
  18. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

Exiled in 1959, he has the wisdom, tenacity, and grit to remain the spiritual leader revered among the people of Tibet, the head of the government-in-exile based in Dharamshala, India, and an inspiration to millions of every faith, worldwide. In 1989 he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. He was given honorary Canadian citizenship in 2006, and was awarded the United States Congressional Gold Medal in October of 2007.

 

Five years ago, who among us could have predicted the economic landscape?  Who would have guessed that there would be a 20% unemployment rate in California?  It’s a different world, and to keep up with it, a new kind of job site has emerged.  JobFox.com is equal parts Linked In, Facebook, Monster, and career counseling session.  Given all of its bells and whistles, including a “Dream Job Cloud” and an area to upload work samples, I thought I’d check it out.

The result is an aggregation of your experience and talents, with an animated topography of your expertise at its center.  Pretty impressive, and a damn sight better looking than the usual static work profile page.  Check it out, and happy hunting.

 

 
red-wine

Red wine (and especially pinot noir) tops the list of healthy alcoholic beverages.

Here’s why:

Drinking red wine may preserve memory and protect the central nervous system. It also prevents clots and blood vessel inflammation—both of which are linked to heart disease and decline of cognitive function.

Overall, red wine drinkers have overall lower body mass indices (BMI’s).  And moderate wine drinkers tend to have narrower waists and less abdominal fat than people who drink hard liquor. (Higher BMI is associated with greater risk for disease).

Pinot noir contains antioxidants and resveratrol, and far more nonflavonoids than white wine.  In one study, fish who were fed resveratrol were more active swimmers—even in old age!

Finally, drinking red wine may have anti-cancer benefits… especially ovarian cancer. Australian researchers found that drinking one glass of red wine a day reduced the risk of ovarian cancer by as much as 50 percent.

Obviously moderation is key — one glass per day. OK, maybe two.

 
Evan2

I always thought turning 40 would be the beginning of the end. And for me it was, but not in the way I imagined. I turned 40 and my life spun out of control into a downward spiral.

At the time, I was living the gay dream: a loving partner, a beautiful home, a great dog, a respected career, and supportive family and friends. I had it all but I was miserable. I was lying and cheating on my partner. My “recreational” drug use had become a serious addiction. My fear of aging was paralyzing me and my social anxiety was so bad that I rarely left home. Not surprisingly, I soon hit rock bottom.

When your top priority in life is having the best body at a circuit party to get fleeting attention from strangers, it’s not going to end well. All of that is cute in your 20’s but when you can’t let go of it at 40, you can implode. And I did. I’d been numbing myself for 20 years in order to feel accepted and loved by everyone and I no longer wanted to live that way.

So at 41, I made a choice to live my life differently.

Now at 43 and almost two years sober, I’m living MY dream. I have a supportive family and friends, great dogs, a job I love, a beautiful home, but most importantly– I have myself. I have grown into a man. I live my life honestly and with integrity. I’m still insecure and wish the aging process wasn’t so cruel but I’ve accepted it. I’m no longer using steroids and Botox to make myself feel better because they never did anyway.

Instead I gain my strength and self worth through prayer, friendship, my work, and being of service to others. I’m present in my life now and I’m learning to love myself. I’m proud of who I’ve become. As the days and years go by, I’m no longer dreading getting older but excited for the adventures that lay ahead. 50? Bring it on!!!

- Evan, Los Angeles, CA

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
shivaratri

Hinduism is formed of diverse traditions and has no single founder.  Among its roots is the historical Vedic religion of Iron Age India, and as such Hinduism is often called the “oldest living religion” or the “oldest living major tradition”.

Demographically, Hinduism is the world’s third largest religion, after Christianity and Islam, with approximately one billion adherents, of whom approximately 905 million live in the Republic of India.  Other significant populations are found in Nepal (23 million), Bangladesh (14 million) and the Indonesian island of Bali (3.3 million).

Mahashivratri (ma-ha-shee-VA-tree) is a day of Hindu religious observance and festival that falls, this year, on the 12th of February.  Aside from the offerings of Bael leaves to the Lord Shiva, all day fasting and an all night long vigil.  And then there’s the chanting of the “great redeeming mantra” also known as the “five-syllable mantra.”

“Om Namah Shivaya” (pronounced as Aum Num-ha Shi-why)

It means  “I bow to Shiva.” Shiva is the supreme reality: the inner Self. It is the name given to consciousness that dwells in all.  Shiva is the name of your true identity- your self.

According to Hindu mythology there are three Gods who run this creation. The Brahma – who creates the universe, the Vishnu – who preserves the Universe and the Shiva- who in the end destroys the universe. Among the three deities, Shiva, though considered as destroyer, also symbolizes the  – the inner self which remains intact even after everything ends.

To Hindus, Om Namah Shivay is a very powerful mantra. It has been said that this mantra vibrates continually in the heart. To repeat this mantra one needs no rituals or ceremonies, nor must one repeat it at an auspicious time or in a particular place.”  This mantra is free of all restrictions. It can be repeated by anyone, young or old, rich or poor and no matter what state a person is in, it will purify.  Here’s a peek into Maha Shivaratri being observed.

For a more detailed description of this holiday, follow this link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maha_Shivaratri

Namaste.

 
Alexander-McQueen

Born in 1969 in Hackney, London, the son of a taxi driver, McQueen started making dresses for his three sisters at a young age and announced his intention of becoming a fashion designer. He said that one of his earliest memories was from around the age of 3 when he drew a picture of a dress on a piece of bare wall which had been exposed by peeling wallpaper in the council house where his family lived. McQueen jokingly called it his first design sketch.

McQueen left Rokeby School at 16, landing himself an apprenticeship with Savile Row tailors Anderson & Sheppard, then working for Gieves & Hawkes and the famous theatrical costumiers Angels and Bermans. Whilst on Savile Row, McQueen’s clients included Mikhail Gorbachev and Charles, Prince of Wales; McQueen recounted in an interview that he once wrote the words “I am a cunt” in biro into the sleeve lining of a suit he was working on for Prince Charles. At the age of 20, he spent a period of time working for Koji Tatsuno before traveling to Milan, Italy and working for Romeo Gigli.

McQueen returned to London in 1994 and applied to London’s most prestigious fashion school, Central Saint Martins College of Art and Design to work as a pattern cutter tutor. Due to the strength of his portfolio he was persuaded by the Head of the Masters course to enroll in the course as a student. He received his Masters degree in Fashion design and famously, his graduation collection was bought in its entirety by influential fashion stylist Isabella Blow, who was said to have persuaded McQueen to change his name from Lee to Alexander (his middle name) when he subsequently launched his fashion career.

Icelandic singer Björk sought McQueen’s work for the cover of her album Homogenic in 1997.

Alexander McQueen’s early runway collections developed his reputation for controversy and shock tactics (earning the title “l’enfant terrible” and “the hooligan of English fashion”), with trousers aptly named “bumsters”, and a collection entitled “Highland Rape” to highlight the historic brutalization of Scotland by Ireland. McQueen was known for his lavish, unconventional runway shows, such as a recreation of a shipwreck for his spring 2003 collection, spring 2005’s human chess game and his fall 2006 show, Widows of Culloden, which featured a life-sized hologram of supermodel Kate Moss, dressed in yards of rippling fabric.

McQueen was an accomplished scuba diver and used his passion as a source of inspiration in his designs. An undersea influence was seen in his October 2009 fashion show, ‘Plato’s Atlantis’ (shown below). Much of his diving was done around the Maldives. – from Wikipedia

The details surrounding McQueen’s suicide are still unfolding, however, many report that he had been struggling with the loss of his Mother on February 2, 2010.

Rest in peace, Alexander McQueen. You will be really fucking missed.

 
muscle-profile

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of how little life is actually different than high school: we want to know where the best parties are, how to get free stuff, and what your dick looks like.

When Barbara Walters interviewed Adam Lambert and Lady Gaga, she could hardly wait to get to the sex stuff and languished there, as if she had discovered the world’s first living, breathing queers… their art and talent, purely secondary.

Lady Gaga shut her down, at first, declaring the information “private,” but then she answered. She didn’t seem ashamed to answer, but she did seem surprised that Barbara Walters found her sexuality more fascinating than a year that saw her performing everywhere, swinging from the rafters like a bleeding doll, destroying everyone at the VMAs, and meeting the Queen of England in an Elizabethan-collared, red latex dress.

It’s an obsession in which we all can be subject and object, and while we’ll go to great lengths to see what someone’s full monty, but we are absolutely squeamish about revealing our own junk, to the point of holding up a significant advance in travel safety: the full body scan.  Like a Speedo is any more revealing.

 
george_clooney_

Financial Times’ style section recently reported that fewer men are covering their greys – or at least selectively leaving some showing – to maintain a distinguished look. Guys who aren’t so grey are having a talcum powder dusted at their temples for more gravitas at work. It’s nothing that George Clooney – who once said, “Getting older is better than being dead.” – hasn’t been telling us for years. Check it out.

george_clooney_

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