From DOM SCUDERA

My gay, homosexual, male lover and I collapse from the weariness of the gay lifestyle we have been living today. All of this subversive loving, volunteering, working, eating, playing and socializing is exhausting. Some say the gay lifestyle is self-enslavement, but we just cannot think about that now. Before we fall asleep, we each take out our personal, leather-bound copies of The Gay Agenda. The Gay Agenda is our Bible. We do not look at the real Bible because we are gay and therefore have no religion or morality. We read and strategize how we can best destroy American society tomorrow. Sharing a good, hardy, gay laugh, we each fall into a sound, gay sleep.  (check out his blog for more! )
                                                                                                                                 RNM44

WOOF AND ME

I can get pretty worked up over a lot of different things. Just this week an old friend was making me crazy on Facebook with her below the belt comments about Obama...( she still thinks he's a Muslim from Kenya). As much as I know I ought to just UNFRIEND her as they say, I still want to be able to fight back. Somehow after one of those bouts I'll switch TV on and catch a SIXTY MINUTES segment that makes me either cry or jump through the set. I read the Local section of the Post Gazette in the morning and usually find some Letter to the Editor that gives me instant heartburn.....and then head out to the back porch where all is right with the world. That's where Woof is waiting to instantly make anything and everything better.

Woof is actually Woof the sixth.....I've had a fawn female boxer since I was in first grade...all named Woof. I heard a psychologist advising dog owners never to do what I did with a dog's name, but now they all just blur together. I always think the current one is the best ever. This one really is.

I live in a big old...OLD...Victorian house with a grand wrap around front porch with a swing and lots of very nice wicker furniture, but Woof and I prefer the back porch cement stoop. We sit there almost every day..even when it's cold.....much longer when the sun is out. She's anxious to check out the back yard when I first let her out in the morning while I make coffee, then we get into position, and it all makes sense. I often sit there with her and think "THIS is what it's all about". Perfect peace...no worries about getting anything done or going anywhere or even having to think. Just me and Woof...sometimes I guess we both think about things while we sit there...but lots of times we just sit there.

Gay Guys and Weddings

  When I was younger I went to a lot of weddings as my straight friends were getting hitched (for the first time ).  I was also a groomsman quite a few times, so when the dancing began I usually had a partner, or at least a female that I had never met before the rehearsal and had attempted to talk to for four hours.  I remember one of my cousins weddings where my partner was a least a foot taller than me and quickly informed  me that she was used to leading.
  My partner and I started going to wedding together about 30 years ago.  For a long time it never occured to me that it might befun to dance with him.  Of course back then we were both fielding those awkward questions like " So when are YOU TWO going to find some nice girls and get married?". 
Fast forward about 25 years and we both began to rely on Miss Manners advise on how we should respond to a question like that.  Her suggested reply is " Why do you ask?".  That shuts 'em up.
  When it's time for the near death battle over the tossed garter as all the SINGLE guys thrash about the dance floor, my partner and I have already either gone to the restroom or back to the bar.
 There are moments however when a really nice song like " The First Time" lures many of the romantic couples to the dancefloor that I feel a very visceral and tempting urge to dance with the person whom I've chosen to live my life with.  My thoughts then seem to turn towards everyone else...that I don't want to make them uncomfortable, or ruin anything for the happy newlyweds....so we either dance with any available female, or more often just sit...resigned...mad at ourselves for being still somehow ashamed of who we are...and feeling like cowards.  Coming out of the closet is an ongoing process....and maybe when we finally move beyond the Chicken Dance we'll actually begin to change the world....or at least ours.