Shake The Etch-a-Sketch: Our Eleven-and-Twenty-Five Anniversary

Here we are, eleven years legally married and twenty-five years together; my how the time flies … so sit back, and let me tell the tale …

We all do it to an extent; follow a line or path that we set up for ourselves. We plod a course, the straight and narrow some might say, and then walk that line toward a particular destination we've imagined we want. And every so often we twist the knobs on the Etch-a-Sketch of our lives  and a new course is charted, moving in a direction we hadn't thought of before. But it’s a slow curve most of the time, not dangerous and we can still see where we're going and can always go back if we don’t like the destination.

But what about shaking the Etch-a-Sketch? What about saying, screw that line, damn that curve. Let me hold on tight, both hands, and shake things up. See, I was an Etch-a-Sketch person, following the easy line, the one I thought I was meant to follow. I didn't stray too far off the path; who am I kidding, I never strayed off the path. But then it hit me, following the path, that straight line or that gentle curve, and where are you going? Toward another straight line, one more gentle curve? What was that all about?

My first shake was telling my parents I was gay. That was a big shake at the time, although now it seems more of a 'so what.' But I thought it was a big deal because I didn't have a real-life reference point on what it meant to be gay. What were the rules? Was there a uniform? Did I have to pay dues? What was it? See, in my family there were no 'funny uncles' or 'aunts in plaid' that I could see; that I could say, "Hey, I'm like that, so it must be okay." The only gay men I knew were the limp-wristed types on TV shows and in the movies. They wore ascots and paisley jackets, were sarcastic and alone. Terry-Thomas? No, not me. Uncle Arthur, I was not....at least I didn't think so.

So I shook the Etch-a-Sketch and came out and no one died and no one fainted and my family didn't disown me; my parents’ response was, “We love you.” Now, I lost a few friends, but maybe they weren't really friends to begin with if "I'm gay" causes them to disappear. I'm gay … Poof … you’re gone. It's like a homo David Copperfield.

I was out, and yet the Etch-a-Sketch was still giving me straight lines—I’ll save you the horror of joking about me following a 'straight' line because it’s already been done—and gentle curves. But then in 1999—so last century—I decided to give Etch-a-Sketch another nudge and I got a computer. Yes, I was late to the game, again, but I began looking around the Internet and found AOL and the series of chat rooms they had. I found one called Gay Lifestyles, and it was a fun chatty room where you could be gay, where you could step off the line a bit because no one really knew you.

I met Carlos in that chat room. The Etch-a-Sketch bumped a little and we started to online chat; another turn of the knobs and we took to the phones, and then the mail. He was in Miami, I was in California, but then I took a leap and told him I wanted to meet him . He was thrilled and plans were made for me to fly to Miami in July.

JULY? IN MIAMI? Oy! What was I thinking?

I bought plane tickets and readied myself to take a sharp turn. I realize now that my life had been split into Old Bob and New Bob. See, Old Bob would have bought the tickets to Miami, told everyone he was going, and gotten on the plane, but when it made a stop in Houston, Old Bob would get off the plane, find a Motel 6, and spend the week there. Then he'd return home and tell everyone that Carlos was 'okay' and the trip was 'fine.' I'd ignore Carlos' phone calls … I almost invented ghosting y’all … and stay off the computer. I'd go back to following that line.

New Bob didn't do that. New Bob flew to Miami and met Carlos and spent a wonderful week in Florida. New Bob fell in love with Carlos and cried at the airport when he had to go home. New Bob's Etch-a-Sketch was shaking. And it was okay; twists and jogs in the path weren't anything to fear.

A month after I came home, Carlos came to California and met my family. I was so happy to have him there; so happy that my family liked him; my friends, too. But then he was gone, back to his home again and I wondered what would happen next.

It wasn't but a few weeks before I hurled the Etch-a-Sketch across the room and chose to follow the path I chose, not one that was arbitrarily set out for me. Carlos and I made plans for me to move to Miami. I sold a car, some furniture, some knickknacks; I got rid of my apartment and quit my job.

Every once in a while, you gotta Shake the Etch-a-Sketch … or toss it out altogether.

So, where does this all lead? It leads to today, twenty-five years after I stepped off another plane in Florida, though this time I was staying for good. We started our life together, all the good times and the bumpy times, and we are still here.

After six years together we moved to South Carolina, of all places, but made a wonderful family out of our circle of friends who celebrated with us when we chose to get married in October of 2014. Marriage equality was happening, even in South Carolina and since we had longed talked about being married, and having our friends and family, coworkers, strangers, the check-out girl at the Food Lion, the waiter who brought me another cocktail, and the world, or at least our corner of the world, know that we weren’t just a couple, we weren’t close friends, we weren’t partners—though those are all good things—we wanted to be Mister and Mister.

On October 17, 2014—fourteen years to the day that I moved to Miami—we were back across the country in Bellingham, Washington, to be married with my father as a witness.

And pause … y’all know that this year I lost my Dad last year and we celebrated our first anniversary without a Dad card and phone call wishing us more love and happiness. That was a Shake the Etch-a-Sketch moment I hadn’t thought about. I will be thinking of my Dad today, and my mother who loved Carlos the instant she knew I loved him.

So, we’re back …  I seriously never thought I would see the day that I would ... that I could ... marry Carlos,  but we did just that. I remember as a kid—a not-yet-out-but-knowing-I-was-different kid—telling my mother that I would never get married, but I would have a maid to take care of my kids. I remember that story and realize now that might have been my first shot at coming out—as a six-year-old, I think—because, even then, I never thought I could get married, never thought I’d be allowed to get married and create my own version of family and home.

And so we did it, and while it has been lovely, raucous, and fun, and there have been down times and sad times and bad times, but, as Elaine Stritch would say—and god am I gay … Elaine Stritch!—we’re still here.

And looking forward, always forward, and while I didn’t say this myself—Charlotte said it in one of those Sex and the City movies … again, god I’m gay—I like to say that I am happy every single day with Carlos. Not all day, every day, because that’s life, but every single day for the last twenty-five years, for some small or large part of the day, I have realized how happy I am and how happy he makes me, and that I am still crazy in love with him.

And that’s something to celebrate!

Happy Anniversary, baby. I love you, always, ever.

Shake The Etch-a-Sketch: Our Ten-and-Twenty-Four Anniversary

Here we are, ten years legally married and twenty-four years together; my how the time flies … so sit back, and let me tell the tale …

We all do it to an extent; follow a line or path that we set up for ourselves. We plod a course, the straight and narrow some might say, and then walk that line toward a particular destination we've imagined we want. And every so often we twist the knobs on the Etch-a-Sketch of our lives  and a new course is charted, moving in a direction we hadn't thought of before. But it’s a slow curve most of the time, not dangerous and you can still see where you're going and can always go back if we don’t like the destination.

But what about shaking the Etch-a-Sketch? What about saying, screw that line, damn that curve. Let me hold on tight, both hands, and shake things up. See, I was an Etch-a-Sketch person, following the easy line, the one I thought I was meant to follow. I didn't stray too far off the path; who am I kidding, I never strayed off the path. But then it hit me, following the path, that straight line or that gentle curve, and where are you going? Toward another straight line, one more gentle curve? What was that all about?

My first shake was telling my parents I was gay. That was a big shake at the time, although now it seems more of a 'so what.' But I thought it was a big deal because I didn't have a real-life reference point on what it meant to be gay. What were the rules? Was there a uniform? Did I have to pay dues? What was it? See, in my family there were no 'funny uncles' or 'aunts in plaid' that I could see; that I could say, "Hey, I'm like that, so it must be okay." The only gay men I knew were the limp-wristed types on TV shows and in the movies. They wore ascots and paisley jackets, were sarcastic and alone. Terry-Thomas? No, not me. Uncle Arthur, I was not....at least I didn't think so.

So I shook the Etch-a-Sketch and came out and no one died and no one fainted and my family didn't disown me; my parents’ response was, “We love you.” Now, I lost a few friends, but maybe they weren't really friends to begin with if "I'm gay" causes them to disappear. I'm gay … Poof … you’re gone. It's like a homo David Copperfield.

I was out, and yet the Etch-a-Sketch was still giving me straight lines—I’ll save you the horror of joking about me following a 'straight' line because it’s already been done—and gentle curves. But then in 1999—so last century—I decided to give Etch-a-Sketch another nudge and I got a computer. Yes, I was late to the game, again, but I began looking around the Internet and found AOL and the series of chat rooms they had. I found one called Gay Lifestyles, and it was a fun chatty room where you could be gay, where you could step off the line a bit because no one really knew you.

I met Carlos in that chat room. The Etch-a-Sketch bumped a little and we started to online chat; another turn of the knobs and we took to the phones, and the mail. He was in Miami, I was in California, but then I took a leap and told him I wanted to meet him . He was thrilled and plans were made for me to fly to Miami in July.

JULY? IN MIAMI? Oy! What was I thinking?

I bought plane tickets and readied myself to take a sharp turn. I realize now that my life had been split into Old Bob and New Bob. See, Old Bob would have bought the tickets to Miami, told everyone he was going, and gotten on the plane, but when it made a stop in Houston, Old Bob would get off the plane, find a Motel 6, and spend the week there. Then he'd return home and tell everyone that Carlos was 'okay' and the trip was 'fine.' I'd ignore Carlos' phone calls … I almost invented ghosting y’all … and stay off the computer. I'd go back to following that line.

New Bob didn't do that. New Bob flew to Miami and met Carlos and spent a wonderful week in Florida. New Bob fell in love with Carlos and cried at the airport when he had to go home. New Bob's Etch-a-Sketch was shaking. And it was okay; twists and jogs in the path weren't anything to fear.

A month after I came home, Carlos came to California and met my family. I was so happy to have him there; so happy that my family liked him; my friends, too. But then he was gone, back to his home again and I wondered what would happen next.

It wasn't but a few weeks before I hurled the Etch-a-Sketch across the room and chose to follow the path I chose, not one that was arbitrarily set out for me. Carlos and I made plans for me to move to Miami. I sold a car, some furniture, some knickknacks; I got rid of my apartment and quit my job.

Every once in a while, you gotta Shake the Etch-a-Sketch … or toss it out altogether.

So, where does this all lead? It leads to today, twenty-four years after I stepped off another plane in Florida, though this time I was staying for good. We started our life together, all the good times and the bumpy times, and are still here.

We moved, to South Carolina of all places, but made a wonderful family out of our circle of friends who celebrated with us when we chose to get married in October of 2014. Marriage equality was happening, even in South Carolina of all places, and since we had longed talked about being married, and having our friends and family, coworkers, strangers, the check-out girl at the Food Lion, the waiter who brought me another cocktail, and the world, or at least our corner of the world, to know that we weren’t just a couple, we weren’t close friends, we weren’t partners—though those are all good things—we wanted to be Mister and Mister.

On October 17, 2014—fourteen years to the day that I moved to Miami—we were back across the country in Bellingham, Washington, to be married with my father as a witness.

And pause … y’all know that this year I lost my Dad and so this will be our first anniversary without a Dad card and phone wishing us more love and happiness. That was a Shake the Etch-a-Sketch moment I hadn’t thought about.

So, we’re back …  I seriously never thought I would see the day that I would ... that I could ... marry Carlos,  but we did just that. I remember as a kid—a not-yet-out-but-knowing-I-was-different kid—telling my mother that I would never get married, but I would have a maid to take care of my kids. I remember that story and realize now that might have been my first shot at coming out—as a six-year-old, I think—because, even then, I never thought I could get married, never thought I’d be allowed to get married and create my own version of family and home.

And so we did it, and while it has been lovely, raucous, and fun, and there have been down times and sad times and bad times, but, as Elaine Stritch would say—and god am I gay … Elaine Stritch!—we’re still here.

And looking forward, always forward, and while I didn’t say this myself—Charlotte said it in one of those Sex and the City movies … again, god I’m gay—I like to say that I am happy every single day with Carlos. Not all day, every day, because that’s life, but every single day for the last twenty-four years, for some small or large part of the day, I have realized how happy I am and how happy he makes me, and that I am still crazy in love with him.

And that’s something to celebrate!

Happy Anniversary, baby. I love you, always, ever.

This Is Why We March: "Now that my secret is known, I'll forever Rest in Peace."

Col. Edward Thomas Ryan of Albany passed away June 1^st at the age of 85 on the first day of Pride, but before he died he wrote a message to his loved ones:

“I was Gay all my life.”

The decorated Army veteran earned a number of prestigious medals throughout his military career and was brother to Rosemary, Cornelius, Joan, Bernadette, and Joseph Ryan, and was a beloved uncle to several nieces and nephews.

But all his life he kept that secret; his family says he was just a very private person. But Colonel Ryan decided not to take the secret to his grave, and wrote a message for his obituary, finally coming out to the world as gay and telling everyone he knew about the man he would be buried next to: Paul Cavagnaro.

Ryan and Cavagnaro met at some point in his life and enjoyed a 25-year-long relationship, even though he kept his romantic life a secret until he wrote:

“I must tell you one more thing. I was Gay all my life: thru grade school, thru High School, thru College, thru Life.”

He went on to tell them about Paul,  and how he died in 1994 due to a medical procedure gone wrong, before saying it was his wish to be laid to rest next to his love.

“I was in a loving and caring relationship with Paul Cavagnaro of North Greenbush. He was the love of my life. We had 25 great years together … I’ll be buried next to Paul.”

In his parting message to his loved ones, Ryan said he didn’t have the courage to reveal his sexuality in the past because he was afraid of being treated the way others like him were treated:

“I’m sorry for not having the courage to come out as Gay. I was afraid of being ostracized: by Family, Friends, and Co-Workers. Seeing how people like me were treated, I just could not do it.”

“Now that my secret is known, I’ll forever Rest in Peace.”

Over the course of his 85 years of life, Ryan served with the Army’s 10th Brigade and received honors including the National Defense Service Medal, the Defense of Liberty Medal "For participation to the State following the attack on America, on 11 September 2001," the Conspicuous Service Medal and Commanders Citation for "Service Above and Beyond the Call" from the division of Military and Naval affairs. He was also a retired firefighter and chairman of the Vietnam Veterans/Agent Orange Committee for the American Legion; he was co-owner of local radio station WHRL-FM in Albany and was also a chef at the East Greenbush American Legion Post #1231.

Colonel Ryan donated his body to the Anatomical Gift Program at Albany Medical College, which would allow med students to study using his body though eventually, his body will be cremated and buried beside Paul’s grave.

His nephew Joseph Ryan said the family knew about his relationship with Paul though they didn’t really talk about it:

“They would go on vacation. Once he did retire, he would take a month off, and they would just put down where they wanted to go, any place in the world. So, we kind of knew, but he wasn’t one that would come right out and say anything … Our family isn’t one that tries to say anything about people. He was quiet, but he was bold. It’s been inside him all this time.”

The family sees the significance in Ryan’s coming out during Pride Month, a time for celebrating the LGBTQ+ community’s history, achievements, and ongoing fight for equality and acceptance.

A number of comments poured in after Colonel Ryan’s obituary was posted:

“Thank you for your service Sir. I´m active duty serving in Japan at this time. Tomorrow, I will be hosting a Pride observation at our command and I´m elated to tell your story. We are fortunate enough now to be part of a military that lets us serve our country in full authenticity. We serve proudly in your honor. Thank you for all you have done.”

“It brings me peace to know that you and Paul are together again. May eternity together be beautiful. Rest in pride.”

“Thank you for your service, and I´m sorry that the world was not always a nice place for us. I hope you and Paul Rest In Peace together and are able to watch the world change.”

"Thank you for all the good you´ve put into the world. I´m sorry that you had to hide who you love. May you enjoy eternity with your beloved, and that you are accepted as you are by so, so many people.”

"Your story touched me deeply. I am so sorry that we live in such a judgmental world that you had to hide who you were and who you loved. I hope there's a way for you to know that sharing your story – no matter when you did it – will be helpful to others. Thank you for all your service."

"You have nothing to apologize for. I'm so sorry that you couldn't live your authentic self but are now able to join your beloved Paul. And I'm sure that you'd never imagine you have so many friends."

"God made you. God never makes mistakes. Your soul is eternal and you will be remembered for the courage that brought you to share your truth. Eternal peace."

"I know this wasn´t your intention, but the reality of what you did is that you showed the world how amazing a gay person can be. As the mother of gay children, I am forever in your debt. Bless you. May you rest for eternity in the arms of the love of your life."

"I am a 74-year-old gay man and grew up living under the same stigma as Edward did... I am so glad Edward had the love of his life, Paul, for 25 great years and now for Eternity. Bless you both."

This is why we fight and march and celebrate Pride and stand up and speak up. We do it for people like Colonel Ryan.

Thank you for your service, fighting for a country that made you feel you couldn’t be yourself.

Rest in Pride. The march goes on ...

source

Shake The Etch-a-Sketch: Our Nine-and-Twenty-Three Anniversary

Here we are, nine years legally married and twenty-three years together; my how the time flies … so sit back, and let me tell the tale …

We all do it to an extent; we follow that line we set up for ourselves. We plod a course, the straight and narrow some might say, and then walk that line toward a particular destination we've imagined we want. And every so often we twist the knobs on the Etch-a-Sketch of our lives,  and a new course is charted, moving in a direction we hadn't thought of before. But it’s a slow curve most of the time, not dangerous and you can still see where you're going and can always go back if we don’t like the destination.

But what about shaking the Etch-a-Sketch? What about saying, screw that line, damn that curve. Let me hold on tight, both hands, and shake things up. See, I was an Etch-a-Sketch person, following the easy line, the one I thought I was meant to follow. I didn't stray too far off the path; who am I kidding, I never strayed off the path. But then it hit me, following the path, that straight line or that gentle curve, and where are you going? Toward another straight line, one more gentle curve? What was that all about?

My first shake was telling my parents I was gay. That was a big shake at the time, although now it seems more of a 'so what.' But I thought it was a big deal because I didn't have a real-life reference point on what it meant to be gay. What were the rules? Was there a uniform? Did I have to pay dues? What was it? See, in my family there were no 'funny uncles' or 'aunts in plaid' that I could see; that I could say, "Hey, I'm like that, so it must be okay." The only gay men I knew were the limp-wristed types on TV shows and in the movies. They wore ascots and paisley jackets, were sarcastic and alone. Terry-Thomas? No, not me. Uncle Arthur, I was not....at least I didn't think so.

So I shook the Etch-a-Sketch and came out and no one died and no one fainted and my family didn't disown me; my parents’ response was, “We love you.” Now, I lost a few friends, but maybe they weren't really friends to begin with if "I'm gay" causes them to disappear. I'm gay.....Poof.....you're gone. It's like a homo David Copperfield.

I was out, and yet the Etch-a-Sketch was still giving me straight lines—I’ll save you the horror of joking about me following a 'straight' line because it’s already been done—and gentle curves. But then in 1999—so last century—I decided to give Etch-a-Sketch another nudge and I got a computer. Yes, I was late to the game, again, but I began looking around the Internet and found AOL and the series of chat rooms they had. I found one called Gay Lifestyles, and it was a fun chatty room where you could be gay, where you could step off the line a bit because no one really knew you.

I met Carlos in that chat room. The Etch-a-Sketch bumped a little and we started to online chat; another turn of the knobs and we took to the phones, and the mail. He was in Miami, I was in California, but then I took a leap and told him I wanted to meet him . He was thrilled and plans were made for me to fly to Miami in July.

JULY? IN MIAMI? Oy! What was I thinking?

I bought plane tickets and readied myself to take a sharp turn. I realize now that my life had been split into Old Bob and New Bob. See, Old Bob would have bought the tickets to Miami, told everyone he was going, and got on the plane, but when it made a stop in Houston, Old Bob would get off the plane, find a Motel 6, and spend the week there. Then he'd return home and tell everyone that Carlos was 'okay' and the trip was 'fine.' I'd ignore Carlos' phone calls and stay off the computer. I'd go back to following that line.

New Bob didn't do that. New Bob flew to Miami and met Carlos and spent a wonderful week in Florida. New Bob fell in love with Carlos and cried at the airport when he had to go home. New Bob's Etch-a-Sketch was shaking. And it was okay; twists and jogs in the path weren't anything to fear.

A month after I came home, Carlos came to California and met my family. I was so happy to have him there; so happy that my family liked him; my friends, too. But then he was gone home again and I wondered what would happen next.

It wasn't but a few weeks before I hurled the Etch-a-Sketch across the room and chose to follow the path I chose, not one that was arbitrarily set out for me. Carlos and I made plans for me to move to Miami. I sold a car, some furniture, some knickknacks; I got rid of my apartment and quit my job.

Every once in a while, you gotta Shake the Etch-a-Sketch … or toss it out altogether.

So, where does this all lead? It leads to today, twenty-two years after I stepped off another plane in Florida, though this time staying for good. We started our life together, all the good times and the bumpy times, and are still here.

We moved, to South Carolina of all places, but made a wonderful family out of our circle of friends who celebrated with us when we chose to get married in October of 2014. Marriage equality was happening, even in South Carolina of all places, and since we had longed talked about being married, and having our friends and family, coworkers, strangers, the check-out girl at the Food Lion, the waiter who brought me another cocktail, and the world, or at least our corner of the world, to know that we weren’t just a couple, we weren’t close friends, we weren’t partners—though those are all good things—we wanted to be Mister and Mister.

On October 17, 2014—fourteen years to the day that I moved to Miami—we were back across the country in Bellingham, Washington, to be married with my father as a witness. I seriously never thought I would see the day that I would ... that I could ... marry Carlos,  but we did just that. I remember as a kid—a not-yet-out-but-knowing-I-was-different kid—telling my mother that I would never get married, but I would have a maid to take care of my kids. I remember that story and realize now that might have been my first shot at coming out—as a six-year-old, I think—because, even then, I never thought I could get married, never thought I’d be allowed to get married and create my own version of family and home.

And so we did it, and while it has been lovely, raucous, and fun, and there have been down times and sad times and bad times, but, as Elaine Stritch would say—and god am I gay … Elaine Stritch!—we’re still here.

And looking forward, always forward, and while I didn’t say this myself—Charlotte said it in one of those Sex and the City movies … again, god I’m gay—I like to say that I am happy every single day with Carlos. Not all day, every day, because that’s life, but every single day for the last twenty-two years, for some small or large part of the day, I have realized how happy I am and how happy he makes me, and that I am still crazy in love with him.

And that’s something to celebrate!

Happy Anniversary, baby. I love you, always, ever.

Shake The Etch-a-Sketch: Our Eight-and-Twenty-Two Anniversary

Here we are, eight years legally married and twenty-two years together; my how the time flies … so sit back, and let me tell the tale …

We all do it to an extent; we follow that line we set up for ourselves. We plod a course, the straight and narrow some might say, and then walk that line toward a particular destination we've imagined we want. And every so often we twist the knobs on the Etch-a-Sketch of our lives,  and a new course is charted, moving in a direction we hadn't thought of before. But it’s a slow curve most of the time, not dangerous and you can still see where you're going and can always go back if we don’t like the destination.

But what about shaking the Etch-a-Sketch? What about saying, screw that line, damn that curve. Let me hold on tight, both hands, and shake things up. See, I was an Etch-a-Sketch person, following the easy line, the one I thought I was meant to follow. I didn't stray too far off the path; who am I kidding, I never strayed off the path. But then it hit me, following the path, that straight line or that gentle curve, and where are you going? Toward another straight line, one more gentle curve? What was that all about?

My first shake was telling my parents I was gay. That was a big shake at the time, although now it seems more of a 'so what.' But I thought it was a big deal because I didn't have a real-life reference point on what it meant to be gay. What were the rules? Was there a uniform? Did I have to pay dues? What was it? See, in my family there were no 'funny uncles' or 'aunts in plaid' that I could see; that I could say, "Hey, I'm like that, so it must be okay." The only gay men I knew were the limp-wristed types on TV shows and in the movies. They wore ascots and paisley jackets, were sarcastic and alone. Terry-Thomas? No, not me. Uncle Arthur, I was not....at least I didn't think so.

So I shook the Etch-a-Sketch and came out and no one died and no one fainted and my family didn't disown me; my parents’ response was, “We love you.” Now, I lost a few friends, but maybe they weren't really friends to begin with if "I'm gay" causes them to disappear. I'm gay.....Poof.....you're gone. It's like a homo David Copperfield.

I was out, and yet the Etch-a-Sketch was still giving me straight lines—I’ll save you the horror of joking about me following a 'straight' line because it’s already been done—and gentle curves. But then in 1999—so last century—I decided to give Etch-a-Sketch another nudge and I got a computer. Yes, I was late to the game, again, but I began looking around the Internet and found AOL and the series of chat rooms they had. I found one called Gay Lifestyles, and it was a fun chatty room where you could be gay, where you could step off the line a bit because no one really knew you.

I met Carlos in that chat room. The Etch-a-Sketch bumped a little and we started to online chat; another turn of the knobs and we took to the phones, and the mail. He was in Miami, I was in California, but then I took a leap and told him I wanted to meet him . He was thrilled and plans were made for me to fly to Miami in July.

JULY? IN MIAMI? Oy! What was I thinking?

I bought plane tickets and readied myself to take a sharp turn. I realize now that my life had been split into Old Bob and New Bob. See, Old Bob would have bought the tickets to Miami, told everyone he was going, and got on the plane, but when it made a stop in Houston, Old Bob would get off the plane, find a Motel 6, and spend the week there. Then he'd return home and tell everyone that Carlos was 'okay' and the trip was 'fine.' I'd ignore Carlos' phone calls and stay off the computer. I'd go back to following that line.

New Bob didn't do that. New Bob flew to Miami and met Carlos and spent a wonderful week in Florida. New Bob fell in love with Carlos and cried at the airport when he had to go home. New Bob's Etch-a-Sketch was shaking. And it was okay; twists and jogs in the path weren't anything to fear.

A month after I came home, Carlos came to California and met my family. I was so happy to have him there; so happy that my family liked him; my friends, too. But then he was gone home again and I wondered what would happen next.

It wasn't but a few weeks before I hurled the Etch-a-Sketch across the room and chose to follow the path I chose, not one that was arbitrarily set out for me. Carlos and I made plans for me to move to Miami. I sold a car, some furniture, some knickknacks; I got rid of my apartment and quit my job.

Every once in a while, you gotta Shake the Etch-a-Sketch … or toss it out altogether.

So, where does this all lead? It leads to today, twenty-two years after I stepped off another plane in Florida, though this time staying for good. We started our life together, all the good times and the bumpy times, and are still here.

We moved, to South Carolina of all places, but made a wonderful family out of our circle of friends who celebrated with us when we chose to get married in October of 2014. Marriage equality was happening, even in South Carolina of all places, and since we had longed talked about being married, and having our friends and family, coworkers, strangers, the check-out girl at the Food Lion, the waiter who brought me another cocktail, and the world, or at least our corner of the world, to know that we weren’t just a couple, we weren’t close friends, we weren’t partners—though those are all good things—we wanted to be Mister and Mister.

On October 17, 2014—fourteen years to the day that I moved to Miami—we were back across the country in Bellingham, Washington, to be married with my father as a witness. I seriously never thought I would see the day that I would ... that I could ... marry Carlos,  but we did just that. I remember as a kid—a not-yet-out-but-knowing-I-was-different kid—telling my mother that I would never get married, but I would have a maid to take care of my kids. I remember that story and realize now that might have been my first shot at coming out—as a six-year-old, I think—because, even then, I never thought I could get married, never thought I’d be allowed to get married and create my own version of family and home.

And so we did it, and while it has been lovely, raucous, and fun, and there have been down times and sad times and bad times, but, as Elaine Stritch would say—and god am I gay … Elaine Stritch!—we’re still here.

And looking forward, always forward, and while I didn’t say this myself—Charlotte said it in one of those Sex and the City movies … again, god I’m gay—I like to say that I am happy every single day with Carlos. Not all day, every day, because that’s life, but every single day for the last twenty-two years, for some small or large part of the day, I have realized how happy I am and how happy he makes me, and that I am still crazy in love with him.

And that’s something to celebrate!

Happy Anniversary, baby. I love you, always, ever.

Shake The Etch-a-Sketch

Our Seven-and-Twenty-One Anniversary

Nora J.S. Reichardt Comes Out As Trans ... In Iowa ... On The TV News

Last week a Des Moines, Iowa news station, Local 5, aired a segment introducing one of the newest members of their team, although this person wasn’t really all that new, as reporter Stephanie Angleson noted when she introduced the segment:

“Today is special. You have welcomed her into your homes for the past year… Tonight, Local 5’s Nora Reichardt wants you to meet the real Nora, her true self.”

And with that, the viewing audience met Nora J.S. Reichardt, one of the stations reporters who has worked there for a little more than a year, and who was now talking about being transgender:

In a nearly 16-minute segment, Local 5 allowed Nora to celebrate her transition and her to share her story. She talked about dealing with depression and anxiety and about her fears there wouldn’t be a place for her on the news if she came out. She talks of feeling suicidal as she struggled with her gender identity, and about her year-long medical transition and even shares photos of her transformation. She is shown filing the paperwork to have her name legally changed, and Reichardt showed her “Transition To Do List,” which included figuring out her dress size, drafting Coming Out posts for social media, planning how to come out at work, and vocal training. And she explained how happy she was not to have to hide her identity at work any longer:

“People who feel like they have a personal relationship with a trans person, it’s understandable that it can feel like a loss, but the way I would ask people to reframe that is, you’re getting someone better. You’re getting someone that that person is so much happier being.”

She also emphasized that she is still the person she was before, the person who knows too many Spiderman facts, plays too many video games, and can often be found reading at the coffee shops with the only difference being that now she’s a “little happier “ when she does it.

Welcome Out, Nora, and please accept as our gift from HOMO HQ the Official Coming Out Toaster Oven™ and a copy of The Gay Agenda, though it seems you have that part down:

“It really in many ways feels like that for the first time in just over 24 years my life is really, truly mine to do whatever I want with. It feels like it’s really just starting to become the life that I want to have and I’m so excited to live it.”

Welcome Out. And thanks for helping to light the way ...

LGBTQ Nation

Bobservations

I sing all the time around the house, often driving Carlos insane … like the other morning when I did my full rendition of ‘America’ from West Side Story as I came out of the shower. But … Carlos, too, will sing a showtune every so often, like the other morning when he gave me a version of ‘Climb Every Mountain,’ with special lyrics interpreted, and an overdone vibrato, by …. Carlos:

Climb every mountain
Search everywhe-e-e-e-e-ere
Follow every highway
Everywhere you go-o-o-o-o-o

Climb every mountain
Follow every stre-e-e-e-e-eam
Follow every rainbow
'Till you find your dre-e-e-e-e-am

A dream that will need
All the love in your hea-a-a-art
Every day of your life
For your whole life lo-o-o-o-ng

Climb every mounta-a-a-a-in
Follow every stream
Look for the rainbow
'Till you find your pla-a-a-a-ce

He only stopped when  Tuxedo and Consuelo abandoned their breakfast and fled to a spot under the guestroom bed.

And of course I believe him because he’s never once lied to anyone, anywhere, ever, right? Right?

Rudy Giuliani doesn’t want to appear before a judge in that Georgia case of election interference and now says he cannot fly because of doctor’s orders, so Fulton County Deputy District Attorney Will Wooten called his bluff, and said:

“We expect to see your client before the grand jury … here in Atlanta. We will provide alternate transportation including bus or train if your client maintains that he is unable to fly.”

Rudy on a bus!!! I’m dying! Cuz there's no Bar Car!

Minor league pitcher Solomon Bates has come out as gay, making him the second minor league baseball player to publicly come out, after David Denson did so in 2015.

“I haven’t been out as my complete self because I’ve been hiding myself. I’m a masculine man who loves the sport of baseball, and now I want to open up doors for gay athletes like me.”

Bates has been out to his teammates since 2019, but Welcome Out Solomon, and please accept as our gift the Official Coming out Toaster Oven and a copy of The Gay Agenda.

Welcome out.

The white man—I won’t say his name—who murdered Ahmaud Arbery after chasing him down the street because he was running says he fears he will be killed by fellow inmates if he's sent to a state prison to serve a life sentence for murder.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you grabbed a couple of friends and some shotguns and went out to kill someone.

Remember when Donald J. Traitor said, “only the mob pleads the Fifth”? Well, that’s exactly what he did when questioned by the New York state attorney general yesterday … cuz he’s a criminal.

In Australia, Victoria Premier Daniel Andrews turned several Melbourne landmarks—including Flinders Street Station, Melbourne Cricket Ground and the Arts Centre –pink as an acknowledgement of Olivia Newton-John’s “enormous contribution” to the state:

“Tonight, landmarks across our city will be lit up pink to remember Olivia Newton-John, and her enormous contribution to cancer awareness, research and treatment. She took her cancer journey and used that to save lives and change lives, and that’s just a deeply impressive thing.”

RIP ONJ

Y’all know I’m a slave to fashion ::::cough:::: but I ain’t no slave to ridiculous. Amirite, Balenciaga?

You may remember that Balenciaga has done some weird shiz before, like the … clutch your pearls, Maddie … Croc stilettos or the bootleg Ikea bag and then charged thousands of dollars for them. Well, now they have made a calfskin handbag that looks like a trash bag, and they call the “Trash Pouch” and charge $1790.00 for it!

And don’t tell me that your brain, like mine, right after it processed “Balenciaga” and “Trash Pouch,” didn’t instantly head to Kim Kardastrophe, because that fashion victim already owns the nearly $2000.00 trash bag.

Jokes on her because I buy mine in bulk …

Beyoncé has new music out and, as usual, to me, it’s the same crap sung in a newer sequined onesie and with more fans in the weave.

I heard one song, don’t ask the name because I didn’t pay attention as the lyrics were so mind-numbingly insipid, where she sings a line, then repeats it four times; she sings another line, and repeats it four times; she then sings two lines, and starts over with the first line, repeated four times … and so on.

I got ♫♪Wheels on the bus go round and round ♪♫ from it.

PS Yes, that’s ugly Beyoncé up there, but it’s also the face I make when I have to hear her sing or see her perform.

This is model, dancer, and out gay man from London, Sam Salter. He starred in Matthew Bourne’s all-male production of Swan Lake, and is quite bendy, but the question is: Would You Hit It?

Bobservations

With Carlos’ vision issues, we’ve had to change the way things are done at Casa Bob y Carlos, and one of the things we changed was the setting of the thermostat. We keep it set for heat at 68-degrees, and for the AC at 80-degrees and it works just fine. But Carlos had difficulty seeing the settings and so I set it for him, explaining that there are three buttons along the bottom of the thermostats and the far right one turns everything on.

“Push once for heat. I have it set at 68 and so the heat will come on if it’s colder than that.”

Carlos thought he needed to raise the heat so a couple of times this past winter I came home to find the heat on at 78 degrees. The same for the AC.

“Push the button twice for the AC. I have it set at 80 and it’ll come on when it gets too hot in the house.”

I came home the other day and it was 67 degrees in the house which, yes, should mean he’d want the heater on but …

Anyway, he found a smart thermostat that is voice activated and wondered if we should get one, and I said:

“If it helps you set the heating and cooling let’s get it, but just remember if we leave the heat set at 68 and AC set at 80, we never have to adjust, we just need to push the right button once or twice.”

“I think the voice activated one is better for me.”

“Why? Does it speak Spanish?”

It doesn’t, but he did, and very colorfully I might add.

After the recent cheering by the right at the thought of Roe v Wade being overturned coupled with this latest vote, it isn’t any clearer that the GOP only cares about a fetus, and not a child.

And they don’t care about women, or mothers, at all.

Eric Clapton who fought against COVID mask mandates for his tour last year has COVID must cancel the remaining dates on this leg of his tour.

If only there was something he could have done …

Sorry, not sorry, Covidiot.

We’ve been watching The First Lady on Showtime, which tells the stories of Michelle Obama, played by Viola Davis, Betty Ford played by Michelle Pfeiffer, and Eleanor Roosevelt played by Gillian Anderson.

I adore Viola, but her performance seems more caricature because she changed the way she moves her mouth, pursing her lips in way that seems unnatural to her, though reminiscent of Obama. Anderson is good as Eleanor, though she comes across as quite frail and I never got that impression by reading about Eleanor Roosevelt.

But Michelle Pfeiffer is brilliant as Betty Ford. Subtle, quiet; she reveals the character sometimes without saying a word. I’ve always liked Pfeiffer and thought her a good actor, but she’s amazing in this. The last episode dealt with Betty Ford's mastectomy and Michelle Pfeiffer slayed that role.

I’d watched her alone as Betty Ford.

In the wake of these two latest mass shootings in the United Sates of Guns, ALLEGED mad of ‘g’od Franklin Graham posted to Facebook that only a relationship with Jesus Christ can stop gun violence.

Really, Frank? Really, Cuz, there have been 198 shootings in this country so far this year so please tell me when Jesus is gonna stop the madness.

Or maybe he’s too busy picking winning basketball teams and baseball games.

Fuck all the way off, charlatan.

Jake Daniels, Blackpool soccer forward, has become the first player in the UK to come out as gay since Justin Fashanu in 1990. At just seventeen, Jake made his senior debut for the Blackpool club this month, but wants to be a role model for others in the game by coming out:

“Now is the time to do it. I feel like I am ready to tell people my story. I want people to know the real me.”

Welcome out, Jake, and please accept as our gift from HOMO HQ a copy of the Gay Agenda and the Official Coming Out Toaster Oven™.

Welcome out.

Ps He’s a hot little nugget.

Talk about a snowflake … according to ex-Secretary of Defense Mark Esper’s memoir, A Sacred Oath, Thing 45 once demanded that former General Stan McChrystal and former Admiral William McRaven be recalled into active duty just so that they could be court-martialed for criticizing Thing 45.

Seriously, what a little bitch.

Amid the political backlash with the GOP over Florida’s ‘Don’t Say Gay’ law, Disney will be donating ALL the profits from its pride merchandise to charities that help the LGBTQ+ community like GLSEN, PFLAG, The Trevor Project, Zebra Coalition, Los Angeles LGBT Center, LGBT Center Orange County, San Francisco LGBT Center, and the Ali Forney Center.

Mickey has zero fucks to give.

Meghan McCain wrote a book after leaving The View that she called Bad Republican: A Memoir in which she “expresses how it is to feel like you no longer fit in with your political party.” The book first came out as an audio book and when a paperback version was released it sold … 244 copies. Ouch.

PS I imagine that hair pin cost her more than the book made.

This is Carlos Lazo, an Italian fitness model, and the question is quite simple: Would You Hit It?