A Limerick for Duck

A writer named Duck has a blog
That helps me see out of the fog
Because she is kind
Some peace I can find
Some days are then less of a slog


Thanks to Duck and Beck for comments on my earlier post of a video about "some of my experiences growing up, dating, coming out, dealing with depression, averting suicide and trying to put it all in perspective." 


Both Duck and Beck's comments had the feeling of a big hug. Then I got this feedback on Facebook that also took the form of an embrace:

 (((((((((((Ned)))))))))) THAT WAS INCREDIBLE. I was so moved. I can't even tell you. 

It's true that sometimes we can't put into words what we're feeling. Which is kind of what I feel now. Happy July 4th.

Not hungry? Just wait a while.

Beck jolted me out of my silence with his entry the Hunger that never goes away, and his question "Will it ever?" All of which prompted this reply:


Beck, my dear friend, do other hungers really ever go away?

You eat a Thanksgiving Feast and a few hours later, what do you want? More food. Another piece of pie. Maybe a cold turkey sandwich. (pun intended)

You attend the symphony or an engaging play or a great ball game. And what happens a few days or weeks or months later? You want more music, more drama, more sports.

You buy a fast new computer, or a new car, or a new suit. It's wonderful at first. Then in a while the computer doesn't seem all that fast any more. The car loses the new car smell. The new suit becomes just a suit. And eventually you hunger again for new technology or attire.

At least I do. So...

Just when I think I've accepted my MOM relationship, I find there's some new wrinkle, or some old one that returns.

Just when I think, I've got it pretty good, something comes along to show me that while I am blessed, I am also greatly challenged.

Just when I think I can swim fluently, I don't breathe right on a flip turn and a little water goes up my nose.

So yes, I relate to your hunger that never goes away. I feel it too. I do an innocent online chat with an old buddy, and pretty soon all I can think about is being in his arms.

But I also realize that most everything in life ebbs and flows. The rain--I hope, I pray, I imagine--will eventually give way to sunshine. Hey I live in Salt Lake not Seattle. And then after a while it will be too hot and I'll long for cool rainy days like today.

I have no answers. But I'm grateful for the way you pose questions. And I'm grateful for your friendship. Maybe our satisfaction in life relates more to the challenge of asking unanswerable questions rather than ease of finding questionable answers.

What do you think, Beck?

Blessings of Brotherhood

A couple of weeks ago I had a wonderful experience that I wanted to share with you. I was buying some stuff at a store and noticed that the cashier who was about to ring up my purchases looked like a friend of mine, which gave me warm feelings toward him even though we'd never met. But I decided to treat him as a friend and not a stranger. Our eyes locked as I walked up to the counter and said "How are you?" as if we were old friends.

We both smiled. His facial expression matched my hopes. He looked back into my eyes as if we did know each other.  Debit or credit, he asked. I said debit and, as if I had seen him in a variety of different shirts and ties over the years, I said, "You know that shirt and tie really look great on you. You ought to wear that combination more often." Our eyes again locked and he said, "Well thanks, bud, I will." He handed me my stuff and I said "Have a good one" and he said "You, too." It was probably over in less than a minute, but it was one of those sweet moments I hope I'll always remember.

Today when I saw the real friend that this guy reminded me of, I wanted to give him a big hug and say, "I love you so much." But he doesn't like hugs and I don't usually tell straight guys I love them, so we just talked about our weekends.

Later today I saw another friend. This time he was the one who kept making eye contact. As we talked I noticed his white teeth, his full lips, his neatly trimmed beard, the way his shirt hung on his shoulders, and then right in the middle of the conversation a kind of miracle happened. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.  I've always felt affection toward this man--another happily married fellow--but today he was the one who physically touched me. What a blessing.

I'm curious about the experiences you, my moho friends, have with your straight friends. Do you also restrain yourself? Do you also find that sometimes a friend's touch is like a gift from God himself?

Thursday Morning Prayer

Dear Father in Heaven, Thank you for the blessings of this day, of this week, of this year and the years preceding it. I'm grateful for the beauty of this week's snowfall, and I'm so thankful that I regained my balance so many times when I slipped and almost fell. Was it me alone? Did I have some steadying help from my guardian angel? Thank you, however you delivered the miracle, that I did not fall. Thank you for our planet, our country, our lives and fortunes. I'm grateful for the moments of optimism I felt as I watched the State of the Union and listened to the State of the State addresses. I'm grateful that I have been able to work, worship, write, read, rest, laugh, eat, sleep, dream, shower, shave, breathe, move, walk, sit, feel, love, mourn, pray and plan this week. I pray that I will continue to live life in thanksgiving. Thank you for the wonderful family, friends, associates, neighbors, citizens, activists, leaders, writers, programmers, singers, musicians, artists, strangers and all of those unseen contributors and laborers who touch my life each day. Please continue to bless them, please continue to bless me that I might not take them for granted. Bless this planet, your planet, our planet this day. Bless all of us here that we may comfort those who die, rejoice for those who are born, and help all of us who live that we might be grateful for our lives, but see beyond ourselves to those we love, those who love us, those we find easy to love and those who are not so easy to love, but need love, need a smile, need a hug, need our blood, our company, our expertise, our substance, our encouragement, our creativity this day. May we contribute what what we can with gratitude for what we have, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Need a hair cut and a care hut for that matter

Dang it, I need to go my hair cut again. It's not just that my hair is out of control. I also need to see my barber. Not just see him. But but talk with him as he cuts my hair and touches me in his kind and gentle yet professional way. I know he does this for a living. Man after man, hour after hour, days, weeks, he's been doing it for years. I like the way he takes his time. I like the haircut and the process of getting a haircut. I like his hands. And the way he stands. The way he talks. His laughter. I wouldn't go to him if he gave lousy haircuts, but he's amazing. My hair, it's going away fast, but he does his best with it. I think he'd make a good doctor or nurse. I think his touch alone is healing, but then again he's never touched me without giving me a haircut, so what do I know?

Come to think of it I also need a massage. I want to walk into a cool darkened room, take off my clothes, get on the table, pull up the sheet and have a professional get the knots out of my back and my neck. I tell myself I don't mind paying for these services from these trained and licensed men. Hey I'm no good at cutting my own hair. No shame in getting a haircut.

To be honest though, I'm a little more ambivalent about massage. I sometimes wish I didn't have to pay. That I had a friend who would do this for me and that I had the skill to return the favor. Pretty unrealistic thinking, isn't it?

In straight Mormon culture, you give and get hugs when guys go on missions, or when you haven't seen somebody in a long time, or maybe at a funerals or weddings. Maybe things are slowly changing. I touch guys in my quorum and they touch me back. That ought to be enough, right? What kind of a guy is constantly wanting hugs from other guys? What kind of guy looks forward to his barber's touch? What kind of guy will spend a dollar a minute to have some other guy give him a fancy back rub?

Helping and Being Helped

Years ago, someone I didn't like very much at the time taught me something I'm now so glad he showed me. I don't think his intent was to teach, but teach he did. It wasn't through his words but what he did. He offered his time, talents and means to help someone who had once helped him. He did this year in and year out. It wasn't a flash in the pan. I wasn't paying much attention for a long time, but eventually I couldn't help but see that he was showing devotion, not with words but action.

Now he and the person he helped are gone, never to be seen again in this life. But his example of service lives on. I've sometimes reluctantly helped someone, based on the way I remember he helped. As I've tried to help out someone who now clearly needs my help, I've sometimes thought of my old friend with new-found appreciation and respect.

How did he do it, year after year, on hot days like today, driving in a car without air conditioning? How did he manage in the cold of winter in a broken down car without snow tires? How could he be of good cheer when the one he served was sometimes difficult, when he knew that no matter what he did, the eventual prospect was death?

Today as I worked in a similar situation, I was blessed with some insights. My old friend was able give because others had helped him when he was vulnerable. He had grown from weak to strong, but in his strength he had not forgotten those who had pioneered and sacrificed on his behalf. I thought of such things today. Where would I be without the help and sacrifices of those who have loved and supported me? As a young man, I viewed the future as an endless supply of days. Now with perhaps a majority of my lifetime behind me, time seems more valuable. So when I try to help out someone who is more than 30 years my senior, I realize just how swiftly the seven, eight or nine decades of a human life disappear.

So what does this have to do with the life of a Moho? Maybe not so much, but maybe it can be illuminated through these lyrics from Garth Brooks and Kent Blazy:

Sometimes late at night 
I lie awake and watch her sleeping 
She's lost in peaceful dreams 
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark 


And the thought crosses my mind 
If I never wake up in the morning 
Would she ever doubt the way I feel 
About her in my heart 


If tomorrow never comes 
Will she know how much I loved her 
Did I try in every way 
To show her every day 
That she's my only one 


If my time on earth were through 
And she must face the world without me 
Is the love I gave her in the past 
Gonna be enough to last 
If tomorrow never comes 


'Cause I've lost loved ones in my life 
Who never knew how much I loved them 
Now I live with the regret 
That my true feelings for them never were revealed 


So I made a promise to myself 
To say each day how much she means to me 
And avoid that circumstance 
Where there's no second chance 
To tell her how I feel 


If tomorrow never comes 
Will she know how much I loved her 
Did I try in every way 
To show her every day 
That she's my only one 


If my time on earth were through 
And she must face the world without me 
Is the love I gave her in the past 
Gonna be enough to last 
If tomorrow never comes 


So tell that someone that you love 
Just what you're thinking of 
If tomorrow never comes

Visions, Hugs and Kisses

I need to draw closer to Heaven. I need to affirm my testimony that there is an unlimited source of comfort, encouragement, love, support, and inspiration. I need to realize once again that our Heavenly Parents and our Savior are as concerned about us as any loving earthly family would be about loved ones far away from home on an important mission.

I've thought along these lines several times in the last few days, and it happened again this morning when I learned of this story told by Melvin J. Ballard in 1917:

"I had been on the Fort Peck Reservation for several days with the brethren, solving the problems connected with our work among the Lamanites. Many questions arose that we had to settle. There was no precedent for us to follow, and we just had to go to the Lord and tell Him our troubles, and get inspiration and help from Him. On this occasion I had sought the Lord, under such circumstances, and that night I received a wonderful manifestation and impression which has never left me. I was carried to this place—into this room. I saw myself here with you. I was told there was another privilege that was to be mine; and I was led into a room where I was informed I was to meet someone. As I entered the room I saw, seated on a raised platform, the most glorious being I have ever conceived of, and was taken forward to be introduced to Him.

"As I approached He smiled, called my name, and stretched out His hands towards me. If I live to be a million years old I shall never forget that smile. He put His arms around me and kissed me, as He took me into His bosom, and He blessed me until my whole being was thrilled. As He finished I fell at His feet, and there saw the marks of the nails; and as I kissed them, with deep joy swelling through my whole being, I felt that I was in heaven indeed. The feeling that came to my heart then was: Oh! If I could live worthy, though it would require four-score years, so that in the end when I have finished I could go into His presence and receive the feeling that I then had in His presence, I would give everything that I am or ever hope to be!”
(Melvin J. Ballard—Crusader for Righteousness, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1966, p. 65–66.)

My questions for you are: Have you had experiences like this? What were your feelings? Is such male-on-male smiling, hugging and kissing appropriate in other contexts? If so, when? The first time I witnessed two men I know kiss on the lips was only a few years ago. The kiss was between a dying father and his adult son. I later held the dying man's hand while his wife and son were out of the room. I'm not sure I would have done so if I had not witnessed the kiss he exchanged with his son. Have you had experiences like this? What were your feelings? What can we moho's learn from such experiences?

Saturday Hike

Went hiking with "Mo" my moho friend Saturday. Asked him if it would be OK to share this in a post. He said, "If you don't blog about it, I will." So here you go:

10:17 AM

mo: HEY...you okay?

me: just got better :)

mo: :) whattssup?

me: Really glad to touch base with you...I was feeling down yesterday.

mo: Why were you down?

me: Reality of kids leaving home. Job stress...feeling overwhelmed.
Oh, and then there's this other matter. I missed you.

mo: Is missing me a bad thing?

me: of course not, all of these things are good, if put in perspective, kids growing up, better job, friendship :)

mo: I spent most of Thurs with my son. It's here. It's a reality that he's leaving. I feel some of what you are feeling. It's part of life. They grow up. But we don't.

me: So I wonder about today? With this rain we can't do yard work. So how about a hike in the mud?

mo: You would do that?

me: I'll put my boots on right now if you like.

mo: ummmm...I need to make a phone call. Can you wait a moment?

me: no prob

10:40 AM
mo: Hey

me: Hey

mo: We can go anytime.

me: Great! I can leave in about five minutes.

Have you had breakfast or lunch? I haven't. We could pick up some powerbars and drinks. Or I can just eat some cereal on the way. Do you have any thoughts on that?

mo: I'll throw something together. Just come.

me: See you in a few.

So we hiked and talked, and it was only muddy in a few places. When we reached a sunny rock with a view we stopped to eat apples and power bars, to drink water and breathe in the mountain air made even sweeter by the morning rain.

We talked about our families, work and what life was like when we were 15-year-old kids trying to deal with feeling so different. We talked about people who helped us out along the way. The sunshine dried our wet clothes. We shared some hugs and shoulder rubs and headed back down the mountainside. Mo told me that in Europe two male friends--straight or gay--could hug and show affection and no one would think twice about it. So after all this I didn't attend the kiss-in on Saturday, but I'm OK with my decision.

Handshakes, Hugs and Other Connections

Today at church I sought to reach out to people. I smiled more, said more hi-how-are-ya's, spoke up during a silence in our quorum discussion, and I physically touched more people, mostly men, than I usually would.

This wasn't so much a conscious decision at the time, but now I think I understand my motives. I wanted to feel a greater sense of connection. I wanted to treat others as I want to be treated. I'd read an old blog of Beck's this week about a young blond fellow who caught his eye while vacationing with his wife. Today as I sat in church with my wife, a 20-something similar to the guy in Beck's blog (below) walked in and sat about six rows in front of us. Later he introduced himself as a newly-wed member of our ward during Priesthood opening exercises. As he left to attend Elder's Quorum I made eye contact, said hello, reached out to shake his hand, welcomed him and introduced myself. In HP group I sat by a man we home teach and in back of two older fellows who have always been kind to me. After the lesson, I just lingered. I put my hand on the shoulder of the man in front of me and he turned around, we shook hands, smiled and warmly talked. I'd put my left hand on the top of the bench and he placed his right hand on mine just a few seconds.

After church there were more handshakes and back slapping, some I originated, some that sought me out. No hugs today, but it was a good warmup. If I want to the world and myself to be less homophobic about male-to-male touch, maybe I can make a small difference even if it is just one Sunday at a time.