No Straight Potential

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I was feeling lonely in LA.

Some blog followers and former students pointed me to these guys.

They were very sweet to me, and we played cards all night long.

Gays helping gays. The most beautiful thing in the world.

That, and the Asian kid from Walking Dead. He’s also beautiful.

If you’re feeling lonely, I suggest you invest in your community.

Maybe that’s starting a gay poker game.

Maybe that’s joining a gay improv theater.

Maybe that’s auditioning for a community theater play, or doing a stand up open mic.

Point is, once you start saying yes to yourself, and other people, the world opens right on up.

Invest in yourself. Invest in your community. Side by side. All together. In harmony.

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Kevin Allison, Adam Gardiner, Dale Cooper Episode 2

 

 

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Me: Did you ever go through a Vally of the Shadow of Death with RISK?

Kevin: I was terribly paranoid during the first few months. But then when I stopped [relying on the safe distance of my childhood stories] and started talking about my kinky stories.

Me: “When I was a kid I shit on a Frisbee!!!”

Kevin: Yeah, yeah.  But the first time I sort of sat down in front of the mic and told a story about something I was wrecked about right then, right now and when I pressed send I was terrified. I was like, what is the comedy community going to think of me? What might my parents eventually think of me?  What might anyone in the entertainment industry think of me?

(pause)

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Kevin: My show… is kind of a philosophical “Fuck You,” to that way of thinking.

Me: Absolutely. I felt that way about PIEFOLK. I had been doing comedy for more than 10 years. East Village Boys asked me to pose apron only. I thought, all these straight, white hetero-normative comics  are never going to let me live this down. Also, my Mom – she’s going to see this and go – I guess he’s not really a comedy person. I guess he’s just a porn star. Overcoming that shame. Overcoming the idea of ‘what will people think?’

(pause)

I always have to brush up that creeping voice inside me that says ‘No one will do your site and no one will take your seriously.’

Kevin: Oh, God, yeah…

Me: But then what I found is… Well, first of all prostitution, porn, all that stuff [that we talk about or traffic in, or tell stories about in our professions] – that’s in the Bible!

(laughter)

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Kevin: Old testament!

Me: People have been bored of that for thousands of years!!

(laughter)

Them: Right right.

Dale: Sorry to interrupt. Speaking of RISK. That’s any internet exposure.  People now with Facebook, Twitter, etc. – you’re in a constant state of managing risk. What photos [will I allow] to get out there? You have to constantly police your online identity because it has repercussions.

Kevin: That’s a great point. I feel like we’re on the avant guard – the people who are saying – you’re being so self conscious about what you’re choosing to put out there into the world, and you know what? We’re choosing to put it ALL out there.

Me: Not all of it.  There are certain things.

Kevin: Yeah yeah yeah.

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Me: I never show penis or sack on my site. I never want my grandmother  – my mom and dad regularly read my site and I don’t want them to see my nut sack.

Dale: They’ve seen it before.

Me: They have. But it’s been 30-someodd years since they’ve seen it. And they don’t want to see it again.

Dale: That’s understandable.

Dale: (to Kevin) I was going to ask you because you brought up kink and whatnot. Does kink play – dom and sub – come into play in your everyday life as a performer? Does doing kink make your more true to yourself? Is it also just playacting?

Kevin: I have not been in enough serious ‘scenes’ with super serious kinksters where I have felt like I’ve taken the role play seriously enough to feel like I went into subspace, or to feel like there was a part of my psychology that I went into – It happened, once where I had an out of body experience where I sort of found myself being submissive in a way that I never thought I would enjoy. I was basically bowing at someone’s feet and worshiping him like an emperor.  Smelling his shoes. Getting whipped. All that sort of stuff… [It put me] in touch with a part of my psychology that I didn’t know was there.

(pause)

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Kevin:  It was very early on into my getting into kink. I shared it immediately on the podcast.

Me: That was a touching story. The way that you tell it now is sort of matter of fact, but when I listened to it on the RISK podcast I was running in McCarren park and I literally had to stop so I could cry.

Dale: Wow.

Kevin: Yeah. It took me back to being a little boy, basically. It was very emotional.

(pause)

Kevin: Since then I’ve been asking when can I meet a kinkster who takes things seriously enough, and is into the psychological side of things enough that I can go back into that mysterious realm? It’s difficult to say. You can’t really force that type of thing. It’s kind of an adventure.

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Kevin Allison, Dale Cooper, Adam Gardiner – Episode 1

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Me: What’s being a porn actor like? What about your fans?

Dale: Well, actually most of what I do now is basically research and reading. I have a wish list that my fans can sort of provide my reading material for me. The wish list is very common for adult films, for fans to get things for the actors. I only have books on there. It keeps me very busy reading and writing notes.

Kevin: Wow! Where are these ‘wish lists?’

Dale: It’s on Amazon. I actually feel kinda bad – there’s a really awesome communist bookstore in Baltimore called Red Emma’s. (Shout out!) I was hoping to get them to be the purveyors of the books, but them being a small business…  they can’t. You can’t argue with the convenience of Amazon.

Me: If you get any bigger will you put cars on your list?

Dale: I made a decision to just have it be books.

Me: Yeah, but those things grow and change and evolve as you grow as an artist!

(laughter)

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Dale: Well if anyone out there has a couple thousand dollars lying around they don’t need!

Me: There you go! NOW you’re being a capitalist! So, Kevin – you’ve been able to sort of ask the universe for something and get it on your podcast, right?

Kevin: Yes indeed. RISK – the whole idea is that people come on and tell stories that they can’t tell anywhere else. You couldn’t tell them on NPR or you’re not even supposed to share in mixed company – some of the stories are really emotional, some are X-rated and some are just… ridiculous!

Me: Ha!

Kevin: I have told a few stories about my recent explorations into kink and there was an episode several months back where I said, oh, let me just put this out there: I would really love a naked Asian housecleaning boy.

(sheepish laughter)

Me: AND YOU GOT ONE!

(more laughter)

Kevin: And I got one. Now you have to understand there’s a context here. BDSM service kink is common. There are a lot of people who are into cleaning your house and getting a sexual charge out of it. The Asian part – that was just part of my own personal, you know…  I’m attracted to Asian guys.

Me: You and I share an appreciation for Asian faces and bodies.

Kevin: Well I felt bad, because it sounded like I was saying… you know, ‘I want an Asian to come clean my house.’

Me: Did it? Because, if you were into gingers and said that no one would blink, right?

Kevin: Right. Right, right. What I meant was I would like someone who was into this sort of thing to contact me. A kid from Malaysia did! He was 23 years old… was going to be a student at Parsons. He was like, I’m moving to the States, I’m super into this, I saw you also on the BDSM sites. Let’s start having Skype sessions and talk about how we can make this happen! And… he did move in with me about a month later, and you know what? I was too… damn… nice.

Me: Oh!!!

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Kevin: Once he moved in with me, I was like – here is a 23 year-old student who is new to the United States and I just started encouraging him. I was like, you know, I’m poly – you should probably give dating guys your own age a shot. I just kept encouraging him to do nice things and I think I dropped out of the zone of being mean and domineering.

Dale: You weren’t fulfilling the sexual needs of your Malaysian slave boy.

Me: “I didn’t come all the way from Malaysia to get a mommy, now let’s make with the butt smacks!!!”

(laughter)

Kevin: Well that’s the thing. When it comes to kink, I’m very good at improvising. I’m good at going into the scene. We were enjoying sex together, but otherwise I wasn’t a 24/7  hard ass asshole to him and I think he grew bored with me.

Me: Can I ask a question?

Kevin: Yes.

Me: How clean was the apartment?

(laughter)

Kevin: That’s the other thing; it was purely practical. I’m terrible at keeping the apartment clean!

Dale: And he was very good at it.

Kevin: Yeah, and I know a lot of ProDoms who are women, who – there are straight guys lining up out the door to clean their apartment – who pay them! Who pay the women! So I’m like, why should I be paying a Latina woman down the street, when I can find a dude who gets off on it?

Me: Right. To qualify, you live in a [predominately] Latina neighborhood?

(laughter)

Me: I wanted to qualify that Kevin doesn’t think….

Kevin: I actually do have a Latina woman who cleans the apartment now.

(pause)

Kevin: And there’s no sex involved.

(laughter)

Me: At least, not yet.

(laughter)

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Resolutions

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My boyfriend and I decided to write some goals down instead of giving something up for 2013.

We decided we’re taking this year to ‘Turn It Yes.’

Care to join us?

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Thanksgiving

 

Her: Can I have some more wine? I burned my finger and I want to take my mind off it.

Her friend: Know what’s good for a burn? Raw honey. It has antimicrobials that help the burn.

Her: Know what else helps the burn? Wine. Will you pour me some more wine?

Me: Know what else helps the burn?

(long pause)

Me: An unhappy childhood.

(pause)

Me: Because the burn doesn’t hurt compared to the childhood. You barely notice it!!!

Her: Ladies and Gentlemen, Michael Martin!!!

Me: Thank you. I’m here all week. Please tell your friends.

People Send Me Things

 

This set of photos comes from a lovely young man in London named Michael To. Pretty brave of you, Michael!

If you’re reading this and you’re feeling inspired to send me some photos, please do!

Look at that tattoo! I did some research – it’s the Chinese symbol for ‘Oh, I had no idea my ass was hanging out!’

Keep in mind – if you send me photos, it’s likely I might run them on my site.

Flexing. Flexing….

Michael made an Old English Custard pie.

Great lighting in Michael’s kitchen, right?

Michael is a handsome, brave guy. I’m sure he has other assets too.

Thanks for sending me things, Michael.

You can feel free to send me things too, Jerks.

Nobody cares at 2am

 

Him: We should have shots! Have you ever had a Bitchy Drag Queen?

Me: No. I mean, yes, but no.

Him: What? You’re weird.

Me: I know. So tell me more about you. What’s your dating life been like, so far?

Him: Oh. I like older guys. Older. Like, you’re probably too young for me. Like older guys.

Me: I get it.

Him: Old. Like much older.

Me: Okay.

Him: Like the last guy I had really good sex with was 50.

Me: Okay. Yes. I get it.

Him: But he was ripped,  you know? And hot. Older guys are hotter.

Me: If you say so. I’ll buy it, I guess.

Him: There’s something else about older guys too…

Me: What’s that?

Him: They don’t seem to care. 

Me: About what?

Him: I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like they’ve been there already, and they’re not worried about impressing you, and they’re not hypersensitive about your opinion.

Me: Yeah. Young people can be like that.

Him: I hate it. I have had sex with younger guys and it’s always a shit show.

Me: Why?

Him: Take your pick. They’re not good at sex. They get their feelings hurt at the drop of a hat. They don’t care about your feelings at all though.

Me: Ha. I knew a poet like that once.

Him: Really?

Me: Yeah, he would go on and on about how shy and fragile and sensitive he was, but he was only sensitive to his own feelings, not yours. He didn’t care at all if he’d hurt or disappointed you. Actors can be like that too, to an extent.

Him: Comics too, I bet.

Me: Comics are different.

Him: Why?

Me: Because they’re real people. If anything, their flaw is that they care too much, and cover up by being clownish, or sarcastic.

Him: I don’t think that’s true.

Me: I’m probably wrong. I frequently am.

Him: Stop it. You’re so crazy. I like older guys. Nothing can phase them. They’re like rocks.

Me: Well yeah. They were your age, and they were pretty, sensitive, talented, relevant.

Him: They still are.

Me: Maybe, but then 15 – 35 years of awful, coarse, wonderful, terrifying, giddy, disappointing, enlightening  things happened to them. And now they’re different. And also tired. I’m tired a lot more often than I used to get.
But I also work more than I ever did, so I guess I earned my tiredness.

Him: See?

Me: See what?

Him: See, that’s something that a young person would never say. ‘I earned my tiredness.’ That’s what I like about older guys. They’re real. Not like young guys, who are petty, and awkward, and selfish. They’ll spend the night dancing with you, and then buy you a drink at the end of the night, and if you get drunk enough they’ll make out with you. But they don’t really want to get to know you. They don’t care about you. They’re only ‘having an experience’ for the night. And they’ll pretend to care. But nobody does. Nobody cares at 2am when you’ve had too many Midori sours and you just need a friend.  But an older guy will…

Me: Midori sours? Why would anyone…

Him: I’ve tried to reach out to them. They suck, okay?! I’ve tried to open my heart to younger people but they don’t know how to take that gift and make something of it. They just eat it and shit it out and wonder if there’s more. Or worse, they hope there isn’t more. I’m so tired of having a significantly affectionate date with a younger guy, only to have sex with him and then have him desperately try to distance himself from me the next day. Where are those shots? We need shots!

Me: We don’t need shots. I’d say we’ve had plenty.

Him: Then take me home.

Me: How about I get you a cab? I like you but you’re a little wasted.

Him: When will I stop being young? I hate it.

Me: Believe me, it’s a curable affliction.

Him: Take me h-ohmygod you just flagged a cab down! What a jerk.

Me: You’re wasted and I have to work in the morning.

Him: Jerk.

Me: I know.

Him: You’re a jerk.

Me: I know.

Him: You’re also old.

(pause – two short blasts from a car horn)

Me: I know. Now go home.

Him: See? Nobody cares at 2am.

Me: Nobody does.

Showtime

Her: But he always does that. Haven’t you noticed?

Me: Does what?

Her: Won’t say yes to your idea. His is always better. You haven’t noticed that? He has NO RESPECT for the work.  We’re trying to improvise a show here! Doesn’t he? I mean… Fucker. I know he hates me.

Me: Of course he hates you.

(long pause)

Her: What?

(long pause)

Me: Nothing.

(long pause)

Her: What’s that supposed to mean?

Me: Nothing.  He’s Kyle’s best friend. He thinks you’re the devil. You can see that, right?

(pause)

Me: Let’s just get ready for this show. Huh? He’s funny. You’re funny. No bigs, right? Let’s change the subject.

Her: Let’s go into this grocery store.

Me: Why? Do you need something?

Her: I’m a little hungry. We’ve got 20 minutes to kill before we warm up. Come on.

(we enter the store)

Her: Ooh! Look at this. Marshmallows! Yummy right? Pretty. Don’t you want to eat them?

Me: I’m full, but you should get some if you’re hungry.

Her: No. They’re made of cow hooves. I just remembered. Don’t you think he’s a little bit of a steamroller? I mean, he just powers through scenes. There’s no subtlety.

Me: He’s a big player. He plays big. What do you want? He’s fucking hilarious.

Her: See. That’s what bugs me. He gets rewarded for doing bad improv. He doesn’t support. Oooh! Look at this melon.

Me: It’s a watermelon.

Her: But doesn’t it look great? He’s a dick.

Me: He’s not a dick. You can’t buy a whole watermelon right before we do a show.

Her: Why not?

Me: You won’t be able to cut it open. He’s just super aggressive with his moves and so are you. It can cause friction.

Her: I’m not aggressive!

Me: You are. It’s a good thing, remember?

Her: I’m not aggressive like he is.

Me: I mean…

Her: I’m not! Am I?

Me: Yes. You’re aggressive. We all have our shows where we’re barreling through. I have to remind myself to slow down. What about a granola bar?

Her: I don’t want a granola bar – ooooh, look at these pickles! They look so good!

Me: When did pickles become 11 dollars?

Her: They’re artesianal.

Me: They’re cucumbers.  Are you hungry or what?

Her: Whydoyouask?

Me: Jeez. I dunno, Ellen. I guess because every time you’re stressed out over a show you take me to a grocery store and look at food items you don’t purchase.

Her: Is that weird?

Me: A little. I mean, especially knowing you had an issue with anorexia.

Her: I usually eat some bread and cheese in the morning to make sure I have some protein inside me.

Me: That’s not reassuring. I’m sorry to tell you this, but yes, we’re all aggressive sometimes. And yes, Carl hates you. You broke his best friend’s heart. You had an affair with one actor in the show, and then you had an affair with another, and you expect everyone to just get along, when both men loved you.

Her: I LOVED THEM TOO. I’m not a monster in all this!

Me: I’m not saying you’re a monster. I’m saying, people can’t always put their feelings aside and do the show.

Her: I can.

Me: Can you?

Her: YES. I’m a professional. He’s not. I’m only aggressive in scenes with him!

Me: That’s not true, but even if it was – how is that you putting your feelings aside?!

Her: He hates women! He doesn’t do that with you, does he? He can’t stand an assertive woman improviser, that’s what it is.

Me: That might be part of it. You’re aggressive onstage.

Her: Assertive.

Me: AGGRESSIVE. And yes. Comedy is full of immature boys that condescend to women. Please don’t start crying. We have to do a show in ten minutes. Come on. Let’s go.

Her: (still crying) Why does everyone hate me?

Me: They don’t… because they’re jealous of you. You have a big talent and it’s intimidating to them. They probably don’t even know they’re jealous of you. You’re a force to be reckoned with. Look, we all love each other, even when we get jealous. We all love being here, and respect each other.

Her: How do I know you’re not just saying that because we’re going onstage right now?

Me: You don’t. You just – we have to trust each other. I’m on your side. Okay?

Her: I guess.

Me: I’m sorry I brought this up at the wrong time. I was a jerk for doing that. Will you eat something?

Her: No.

Me: Okay. Let’s go. It’s showtime.

Advice

eryc perez de tagle

I’ve been sitting here for the past 20 minutes thinking of what to say without it seeming like I’m sending a letter to the editor of a self-help magazine. I’m reaching out to you because I feel like, although we’ve never met each other, you can empathize better than anyone else can about these emotionally draining complications I’ve encountered in regards to coming to terms with my sexuality.  I’m gay, I can confidently say that. I know that. Yet, I still find that I can’t (or won’t) act as the person I’m meant to be. It’s like I’m living life as a double agent. I’ve got a group of friends who know about my sexuality. And then I’ve got this other group, my family, who still think that I’m completely interested in what they want; and that everything I’m doing falls completely in line with their expectations. And this dichotomous social life that I’ve set up is starting to blend. And as a consequence, I’ve found that hiding is much more convenient for me than putting myself out there.


The solution seems easy, doesn’t it? Just be truthful with my parents. Everyone has coming out horror stories, and a large majority of them end in happy endings. But, how can I tell my mother that I’m gay, when she constantly asks me if my best friend’s (who’s also gay) mother ever regrets raising a gay son. I can’t be truthful to the parents who wanted me to stop hanging out with my friend in 9th grade because people might assume I’m gay by association. Pretty ridiculous, right? And it sucks, it really does. So the problems I face are not internal, rather they’re external problems that I’ve internalized — taken to heart — and it’s killing me. My pursuit for happiness is not a fantasy that I want, but rather I fantasize about a happiness that my parents wouldn’t mind me having. I’ve done a lot of growing up and I’ve realized that being attracted to men is not wrong. I’m trying so hard to keep this homosexual label from manifesting into a rain cloud that hangs over my head, never ceasing to rain. Instead of trying to be something, I simply want to just be.

The way that I keep myself hidden has affected a lot of my past relationships. My relationship with my parents is pretty rocky, but I bet you could’ve guessed that. My friends often remark about how much they don’t know about me and I laugh it off. “Oh come on, you know more about me than anyone else does.” That’s only true because they know the small amount I’m willing to tell them. Now that I think about it, I don’t think anyone knows what my favorite color is, or where I want to be when I retire. Haha, trivial things, yeah. I feel so selfish, too. I can’t explain why.  But the way I hide my emotions makes me feel like I’m waiting for people around me to notice what’s wrong and pour every ounce of effort they can afford into helping me. I feel like an opossum, playing dead just to grab people’s attention. Bleh.

It’s not easy being two people at once. I feel like I’m on the verge of an identity crisis and I’m slowly approaching the point that being miserable is better, as long as everyone else is happy.

Before you ask, yes. I’ve had a boyfriend. That lasted a month because I was afraid my parents would somehow find out via Facebook. Silly, I know.

Welp, here we are. At the end. And I can’t help but laugh because it seems I’ve turned you into my therapist. But I guess I need an unbiased 3rd party that I can vent to. I don’t want you to feel like I’m expecting some grandiose answer, some response that will cause something to click inside my head and suddenly I’ll be enlightened and everything will be better. That’s a shit ton of responsibility to place on a stranger. I guess all I’m hoping for is some insight. Now that I think about it, I’d have to say the reason I’m coming to you is that your blog helped in that process of self-acceptance. So thank you for that. Now, just to make it so everyone else accepts me for who I am.

Cory F.

ps: I like to pretend I’m artsy, so I attached a photo that represents how I’ve been living my life for the past two years.

Cory,
Don’t you want to be whole? A whole person? Don’t you deserve a normal life with a family that (for better or worse) knows who you are? Of course you do. Also, I think you know this by now, it’s not a matter of if you tell your family – it’s a matter of when. You can’t keep it up forever. What are you going to do, marry a girl and pretend to have a heterosexual life? That’s absurd.
Here’s the most disturbing thing  – you seem willing to let your own happiness be destroyed for the sake of not bothering other people. You said it yourself – you had a boyfriend and broke up with him because you wanted to maintain your ‘closeted’ identity. That’s really sad, Cory. Plus you had to hurt someone’s feelings and break up with them in order to maintain your precious little ‘secret.’
Stop doing this to yourself. You’re never going to be a whole person until you can be your real self, and ask for acceptance from your family. They may or may not give it to you immediately, but when you come out to them, their homophobia becomes their problem, not yours. Does that make any sense? Part of the power of coming out is that you give away the shame. You take the self loathing, and fear that you were raised to harbor against yourself, and you give it back. Then you can start the long journey toward feeling happy and whole.
I’m not trying to make this sound easy – it took a number of years for my own family to accept me for who I am. I came out in high school, which made high school and college pretty tense between me and my parents. It wasn’t until my mid-twenties that I felt that my parents had come to fully accept me for who I am. But that’s my point, Cory – you have to get the ball rolling on this. It’s going to take some time for the fallout to settle and for your family to adjust to this – you should tell them sooner than later.
I know it’s scary, and you should prepare yourself for some pretty awful treatment from your family – that’s true. But I wonder if you can imagine – it’s like a heavy weight is lifted off your chest when you do it. Even when the reaction is negative. Because once you own up to yourself, you become a whole person. A person with integrity. I know you want that. You wouldn’t have written if you didn’t.
You owe it to yourself, Cory. For once, put your own happiness first. This secret is eating away at you,  causing even more shame and self loathing. It’s a heavy load to carry. Put it down, buddy.
You can do it.
We love you.