The Camera

I have a vivid memory of a birthday when I was around eight years old. I had gotten a brownie camera that morning, a birthday gift from my parents. I was excitedly running around the house taking pictures. Suddenly dad was angry at me. I had done something wrong in the eyes of my father. I was never exactly sure what I had done. He got angry at me, threatening some kind of punishment. I remember being very hurt that my father was yelling at me on my special day. There was something about me that could bring out my fathers anger, even thought I knew he loved me.

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My Life: Vignettes Over Time – Chapter I

new-life-chapter-1

It is hard to know where to begin when writing a personal history.  Do I start as a small child already feeling different than my peers, or do I begin later when I first began to understand my attraction to men?  Let me tell this story through a series of vignettes over time. Continue reading

Different

Now, “different” is nice, but it sure isn’t pretty
“Pretty” is what it’s about
I never met anyone who was “different”
Who couldn’t figure that out

– At The Ballet from A Chorus Line

I knew I was different from a very young age, even though my mother, grandmother, and aunt tried to turn it into being special. As the character Bebe sings in A Chorus Line, I figured out that I was not like the other boys and it was not a good thing. I did not engage in baseball on the playground, I was completely disinterested in sports and could not get my head around the rules or players’ role in different games. Continue reading

Nantucket Reds

Nantucket Reds Walking around Nantucket yesterday brought up emotions in me that date back to my childhood.  My reaction to seeing a certain type of well to do men and women, dressed in elite preppy styles, full of self confidence and sureness, implying a closed exclusive world, is not good. It makes me cringe inside and feel uncomfortable. It also encourages my contempt. 
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