Swing Batter

The biggest, boldest, most daring change of my life this week is detailed in my deciding at the age of 41 to become a jock. For some unknown reason I got it into my head that I wanted to join a gay softball league. So Sunday I went to the clinics for GLASA, the gay softball association. It was a blast! I had so much fun. The guys were super nice and friendly. And there were all types. I rushed Sunday morning to Play It Again Sports in Studio City to buy a glove and cleats. I felt so fucking butch buying cleats! And then from 11 to 2 we fielded, caught, hit. And had to run the bases one time. Do you know that it's 1/2 mile between each two bases? That means it's a 2 mile run one time around. I almost died. I'm all banged up and bruised from wild grounders that hit bones they oughtn't've hit. I was seriously beat. I didn't get scouted for a team that same day, so I might not make it since the league starts on Sunday. But I had a hell of a good time trying out. And I want to say - that feeling of making a catch and having a bunch of guys tell you "good job" or hitting a line drive and hearing "nice one!" or any of the fist-bumping, high-fiving male-ness of it all... I love it. I loved that feeling. And I see why straight people become jocks, because they can have that male love and attention and still be... well... straight. But this is a gay league. And yes, in my dreams it is exactly like the bottom picture. Feathers and all...

Blind Date

Another weekend that started on Thursday. This time with an actual date. Jeff and I met online some time ago, flirted around a bit, and finally decided to meet. His sister lives in Glendale, so he was nearby and we decided to go to Akbar for a drink. It was pretty crowded, but we managed to find a booth in the back and talk and drink and get to know each other. It was a very nice date. I suggested some pie or something for dessert, but he wanted to go back to my place - wink wink. And... well... I had a very nice night with a very nice guy who, it turns out, I had taken pics of months ago at Kub Kamp in Long Beach, where he dances as a gogo bear. Small world, or what?

Tarot-Rific

In January I signed up for a series of 4 lectures on tarot - one for each suit. I completely forgot about them. So I showed up this week to find that I was the "mystery man" - the only guy who had signed up and, then, never showed up. It was a bit odd, because several of these ladies in the class are actually scared of the cards, or more to the point, of their ability to read them. I liked the class - any chance to discuss the occult is a good day for me.

Oscar Party

The week ended with a nice night shared with Gus and his date Scott. They came up to LA to watch the Oscars at MJ's and I joined them for a couple of drinks. After softball, I needed the soothing balm of vodka. And I also met my new boyfriend... erm... I didn't quite get his name. But he was most friendly. He shared some trade secrets that perhaps were best left unexposed. On second thought, no, I prefer him exposed. Very exposed. It was delightful to hear the speeches by the writer of MILK, Dustin Lance Black, and by Sean Penn as they talked about Prop H8 and equity for all so eloquently. I'm not much of a Sean Penn fan, but he scored points with me for his honest speech. He's right, he does make it hard to like him. But perhaps his work on MILK will turn it around for more of us, and then it will be a piece of cake. With milk.

Hot Stuff

One of the true joys in Los Angeles is the sighting of a star. This week, it was the sighting of a star's ass. I've had a thing for gay porn star Brent Corrigan for a while. Seeing him so pretty-pretty in Another Gay Sequel just nailed it for me. But seeing him at the Hollywood Bally's was just too much. Have you ever tried to jog on a treadmill and conceal a hardon because a beautiful boy with an even more beautiful ass is 5 feet away from you? And yes, I know it was him because that little star... right above his cheek... well, let's just say he isn't a shy boy at all. Why he was at a slum like Bally's I'll never know. But praise Jeebus he was!