Night of Promise

When I asked her to the dance, I did not know how long the night would be. I promised her father that I would return her safely to her home. The night is not over. We've danced together several times, but not like some couples who seem to be having the time of their lives. So we've tried to make the best of this evening. She's danced with all of our children and grandchildren. So have I. She has danced with extended family, school, career and church. So have I. She has not danced with any other men or women and I have not danced with any other women or men. But I have stood alone and watched so many others enjoying the dance. I have talked with a few other men off the dance floor. We have had some wonderful conversations. Mostly my wife has stood alone. Or helped others. The dance is not over. My wife and I, although both distracted, are still on our date. My promise to return her safely to her father still echoes in my mind. Sometimes overshadowing even the best music I've ever heard.


(This is yet another blog entry inspired by Beck. Here's what he wrote that got me thinking.)

a man and amen

I was just re-reading a blog post I made two Decembers ago. I'm going to repost it here and add in my current thoughts:


Dear Heavenly Parents,


Thank you for sending me the man of my dreams. I loved him when I first saw him and I still love him today more than a decade later. This summer it will be 12 years, wow! Sometimes I feel frustrated that he doesn't love me the way I love him, but in my saner moments I realize there is wisdom in pairing me, a bisexual man who is a married father, with another married father who is straight. He is also kind and his kindness shines through in so many ways the longer I know him.

Yes, I sometimes wonder what our lives would be like if both of our wives died or divorced us, but I strongly suspect that my man would soon find himself dating women and would soon find himself in love with one and remarried. The same could happen with me I suppose, although maybe you've got another man of my dreams in store for me somewhere in the future and maybe this one is gay, or at least bisexual. As time passes though, I think I've become more realistic. It is a blessing to be married, and it is a blessing to have a such a good married friend. When he says, "I'd like to do that, but I can't this time because I promised my wife I'd..." we both understand we have other priorities, which also makes the time we are together memorable. 

But maybe this is as good as it gets and if that's the case, that's OK. Not just OK but great, really. I waited more than 40 years for you to place this jewel along my path and I realize that this may be it. Thank you for our many days and years together. He is so much more than an amethyst remembrance. He is real. He is alive. I stood by his side and enjoyed his laughter this very day and the day I'm writing the addendum as well. You've also given me the opportunity to be married to a wonderful woman and for us to be parents of wonderful children. She is alive. She is real. She is only a few yards away, resting her mind and her bones after a busy Monday at work. She's been out of town for a few days as I add these thoughts and I'm so glad to be with her again, so glad she's returned safely to our home. She is my friend, confidant, wife, mother of our children. I would not be the man I am, if she were not in my life. I love her as much as a man in my situation could love his wife and I know she loves me to the best of her ability given our circumstances.

You've blessed me so abundantly with the ability to love both men and women, to find some of my brothers and sisters here intriguing, mysterious and beautiful. You've blessed me with so much more, with wonderful teachers, neighbors, friends and extended family. I'm also grateful for the ability to find beauty in small things, like a smile, a "thank you", a "please", a Facebook "like", and the comments on this blog. 

You've blessed me with good health, with strength, with the ability to endure uncertainty. You've blessed me with a love of music, nature, art, food, sunshine and snow, darkness and light, fireworks, fireflies and fire itself. You blessed me to be able to notice and appreciate nature and human nature, the cold and the warmth, the extremes of summer and winter and the perfect days of transition in spring and fall. 

I've had a good life full of challenges and rewards. Certainly there is more good ahead, but sometimes on a cold winter night like tonight, I'd be just fine if I didn't wake up. Isn't that crazy? I know it is. It's irrational but understandable. I think I've grown a little more patient with myself since I wrote this. A little more tolerant of my changing moods. A little more aware that if I'm discouraged, encouragement is just around the corner, and vice versa. 
I have more to do. Children to be married. Grandchildren to be spoiled, to read with, to laugh with, to sing with, to color with, two swing with, to put on my shoulders, to run through the sprinklers in the summer, and zip into a winter coat when it's snowing, to lift in and out of high chairs, to buckle into a car seat and kiss on the forehead. To realize how much capacity I have to love and how I must have been loved as child and grandchild. I have a tender, strong, dear, intelligent, kind, loving, independent, talented, giving, patient wife to grow old with. 

And a married friend who I miss when I haven't seen him for three days. Someone who makes me smile just by thinking about him. Someone I probably stand too close to sometimes. Someone I bump into when we're walking together and when our hands touch just for a fraction of second, I know and wonder if he does too. Someone who is married to a woman he loves. But someone who enjoys his brothers, his buddies, his independence. Someone who is so comfortable in his own skin, that when I'm with him I'm somehow comfortable in mine. All just as true now as it was when I first wrote it. 

Why should I need someone else to feel this way? Because I'm human. We are social animals. Or as Pierre Teilhard de Chardin wrote (and Neal Maxwell quoted) "We are not human beings having a spiritual experience but spiritual beings having a human experience." I shouldn't. And I don't always. But when I'm with my man, this magic just happens. It's as natural as sunshine. The magic remains as does the warmth. It's human, it's spiritual, it's almost as tangible as a warm shower or a favorite sweat shirt just out of the dryer, and I know I'm alive when I feel it.

I'm glad that somehow we crossed paths (probably part of some great plan you two cooked up, eh?) and that our friendship has endured. I'm glad I came across that great quote from Albert Camus, "In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer." I'm glad I still know that, and that I know it even more deeply now. Thank you for all these blessings and others I can't even imagine. 

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. 

a moho haiku and a question about friendships

I love my buddy
His smile brings me joy
A blessing of male

Throughout much of my life, I've been frustrated by the lack of reciprocity in many of my male relationships. I expected more than most straight men could authentically give and because of my own homophobia I was unwilling to explore opportunities for friendship with gay or bisexual men. Given this background I'm so grateful when there is reciprocity with a male friend.

Just before Thanksgiving, I felt inspired to make a simple thank you card and give it to one of my friends. Yesterday he reciprocated. Not with a card but with an early Christmas present. Maybe that's not reciprocal  but it was a wonderful surprise. Now I'm smiling as I think about some modest but meaning present I can give to him.

I'm curious about the friendships you have with straight males. Do you seek out these friendships? And do you exchange gifts at Christmastime?

Insights about Bisexual General Authorities

The following chat from Vatican City to Salt Lake City was recently intercepted and decoded. 

VC: As Mormons you agree with us that same sex marriage should be fought. You, too, see that gays really are one of the problems we need to deal with. Why's that?

SLC: Well first of all, we really appreciate your support. But I do need to let you know that we don't like to use the word "gay". We prefer to call it SGA or Same Gender Attraction. And we do know that SGA can often be cured or at least suppressed well enough that no one would ever know. We have lots of strugglers who have wives and children. They've overcome it and we know others can, too.

VC: How do you know that?

SLC: Well you've seen our missionaries walking around Italy, right?

VC: Many times, yes, many times.

SLC: We send these young men out to serve two year missions when they're 19 years old. They're paired with a male companion 24/7 for months at a time.  They walk together, preach together, share meals together. They learn to share a kitchen and much more, each morning and night the get on their knees and pray together. Why in the early days of the church they even slept in the same bed together.

VC: What does that have to do with homosexuality?

SLC: Well we know very well that some of these young boys are attracted to each other. But it's OK because we also know that most of them have the self-control not to act on it, and when they return home, they'll marry sweet young women, have wonderful families and put their homosexuality behind them for good.

VC: How do you know that?

SLC: Well, confidentially, I can tell you it has happened within the highest ranks of the church.

VC: You mean some of your leaders are gay?

SLC: No, I wouldn't put it that way. Like I said, we really don't like the G-word. I would say they had same gender attraction, but they overcame it.

VC: But what about the scientific evidence that homosexuality is immutable?

SLC: We don't buy it. When science and the gospel disagree, we tend to go with the gospel. Besides that, when some of our highest ranking leaders say that they've overcome this weakness, then we can count on that as the truth.

VC: Isn't it more likely that these men who say they can overcome homosexual feelings are actually bisexuals who are choosing to bond with women because their bisexuality gives them that option?

SLC: Well I hadn't thought about it quite that way. We don't like to use the word bisexual very much. I guess we could refer to it as OGAASGA, or simply OGASA, opposite and same gender attraction. But I think that sounds too much like Obama and we certainly don't want that.

VC: Wow and I thought we were homophobic. It would be tough for an openly gay member of your church to rise to the level of a Cardin---uh---General Authority. But a bisexual member of your church who could pass as straight could certainly rise up through the ranks, couldn't he?

SLC: Well I suppose it's possible, and to be honest with you, I have wondered about some of the men I work with.

VC: And then when discussions about the fluidity of sexual attraction came up, they would be able to say "I know this can be overcome" because they've overcome it. What these bisexuals doesn't understand is that they never were homosexual to begin with. The bisexual has a choice. The homosexual not so much.  We see the world not as it is, but as we are. So the bisexual church leader assumes that because he had a choice, others do, too. That's probably why some of your leaders and our leaders are so fearful of gay marriage. They really do think that lots of people could change teams because they have and they see others like themselves.

SLC: Interesting thoughts.

VC: Got to run. I've got meetings. Next time you're in Rome, let's have lunch and I'll give you a personal tour of the Vatican.

SLC: Hey, I've also got meetings, morning noon and night, but thanks, my friend, and the next time you're in Salt Lake, I'll buy you lunch and give you a personal tour of Temple Square. Incidentally, please don't mention this exchange to anyone, it could cost me my job.

VC: Not a problem. I won't say a word, and of course this chat is encrypted. Even if someone intercepted it, they'd never be able to decode what we've said.

SLC: Ciao.

VC: Ciao.

I played with dolls

My sisters had dolls and I liked to play with them. My parents gave me toys for boys like trucks, trains, Lincoln Logs and Erector Sets. I also had weapons including toy rifles, pistols and fake knives made of rubber. Some of this stuff was kind of interesting, but not anywhere near as cool as dolls.

I also liked purses. It seemed to me that guys got ripped off just having a little wallet, when girls and moms got to have these interesting and colorful compartments to keep their stuff in. Evenually I outgrew my fascination with dolls and purses. Maybe it's because my parents steered me in other directions.

I don't have any early memories of being called a sissy, pansie, faggot, queer, homo. Not when I was a little boy. But the I think I got called all of those in junior high. It's not like I was dragging dolls to school with me or carrying around a woman's purse. But I wasn't interested in sports and I wasn't good at them, and I was interested in art. I also remember that as boys my age talked about how wonderful girls were, I was noticing the guys. Everything about them seemed noteworthy: their eyes, their hands, how they combed their hair and if they could grow decent sideburns. I couldn't.

I wonder if there had been gay-straight alliances in Utah schools 40 years ago, if I would have participated. Probably not. I knew I was gay, that I was strongly attracted to the same sex. I could admit it to myself, but not to anyone else. I remember thinking I will never, ever tell anyone. I also remember the first time I made out with a girl. I became aroused and I thought, maybe I'm not gay after all. I enjoyed dating girls. I enjoyed kissing them, but I didn't want to go beyond kissing. I heard other boys talk about their sexual adventures with girls and I thought that sounds gross. Sometimes I'm amazed that I made it through junior high and high school. Sometimes it seems a miracle that I fell in love with a woman, married her, and that together we have raised a wonderful family.

When I look at this painting of the little boy sitting on the steps, I think, I know that boy. I was once that little boy. I'm glad he got so much love and affirmation for who he was. I'm sorry that he was sometimes taunted for being different, but he did the best he could with what he had, and somehow life has turned out pretty good for him.

Other little boys who liked dolls were not so lucky. Many have died from a variety of causes. Some have been murdered. Some have killed themselves. Some have lived lives of isolation and loneliness. And some have flourished. They've lived, loved and learned. Some have married women. Some have married men. All of us are human. What we have in common is greater than our differences. All of us have the need to touch and be touched, to love and to be loved, to belong to and contribute to something greater than ourselves, something that matters, something that makes the world a better place, even it it is for just one child sitting on a step holding a doll.

Not Saying Much

It's not that I don't want to talk. It's not that I can't or won't. I guess if I asked myself some questions that might break the ice a bit. How am I doing? OK, some days better than OK. I'm not getting as much exercise as I used to, but I'm shoveling a lot more snow. Maybe it's a wash.

Am I counting my blessings? Sure. A job in this economy. A fine family. The comforts of religion and somewhat clear thinking. The comforts of hazy thinking, too. Friends near and far, known and unknown, past present and future, gay and straight and some in between like me. A dog and a cat, a desk and a rug, a warm home and warm memories. People I care about and people who care about me. Things not to take for granted. Health, pharmaceuticals, books, music and laughter. Smiles, my own and those of others. Ten fingers, ten toes and connections from all of them to my brain. Mind, heart, soul. The ability to talk and listen, see and sense, write and read, maybe even some math if there's a calculator nearby (oh Sarah, if I'd only had real math teachers like you in my youth) , light, shadow, color. Notes, letters, pencils and pens. I can count blessings and it's easy to lose track of the count.

Well I said I wouldn't say much, and I haven't, but I've said more than I thought I would. The fingers can still hit the keys, that's not too bad for a cold Sunday night in December.

Curious Gus

Just took the GUS survey and encourage Utah gay and bisexual men to take it as well, and spread the word:
http://www.psych.utah.edu/study/gus/1.php
Note: You don't have to be sexually active to take this survey. ;p