Well, I am hooked. It was kind of odd to start with, but the second I saw Matthew Morrison lying shirtless in bed things started to look up. As the first episode unfolded it began to shed light on things long since buried. I found that I could identify with every one of the glee club members. I was the misfit, the fat kid, the kid who marched to the beat of a drum that no one else could hear, the queer, the invisible one — only to be recognized when being the butt of a joke. By the end of the episode I was in tears. If there would’ve been a “Glee” club when I was in high school things could have been so different, but those days were so different.

While no official word from CBS has come on the subject, speculation abounds from wardrobe malfunction to erections to just because they are gay men playing in the mud with other men. The only thing that is clear is that the censoring has caused more of a fuss than had the show been left uncensored.

TAR’s Dan was in underwear and could possible have had a peek-a-boo moment, but what was wrong with Sam? Sam, who was wearing shorts, also had his crotch censored and had he not been blurred, this probably would’ve been a non-issue. It does make one wonder what the real problem was as there have been some questionable moments during the recent season of CBS’s Survivor where underwear-clad schemer Russell’s silhouette of his manhood has been clearly visible in several episodes.

I took a second look at the glimpses that weren’t censored, the guys movement and stance in the mud and how things were hanging (err… pointing). That combinded with Sam’s comment about “the hot Estonian guys” leads me to believe that CBS was running terrified that people would assume that in some shots the guys had erections. Whether they did or not no longer seems to be the issue as it has led to a larger concern… would CBS have been as quick to blur if the guys were straight?

Update 12/08/09 – Sam explains in interview with AfterElton: “Here’s the deal. Cheyne had black boxers on so you couldn’t see everything for him. Dan had lighter-colored boxers on, I had paper-thin little shorts on, and so you could just see too much. Apparently, the outline was too obvious, so they had to blur everything. No, we were not getting excited by the Estonian hotties, despite what everyone else seems to think. There’s not too much that’s erotic about playing volleyball with your brother in a little town in Estonia.”

On it being a gay issue on CBS’ part, Dan only said, “Trust me, that was my theory. But it happened and it was really funny. We were watching with our dad when that episode came on, and he was just like, ‘What’s going on?’”

Hmm…

My friends tell me that 40 is the new 30 and that life doesn’t begin until 40. I know I don’t feel 40 or look like it according to some people who are shocked I was THAT old, thinking I was mid 30s – YEAH! With hot to trot John Barrowman and Hugh Jackman, who just turned 40, as examples of what the face (and body) of 40 looks like, bring it! Woof!

But the playground was deserted except for the oaks that towered over it. I made my way to the wall and looked up over it into the alley to see what was happening, and it too was deserted except for a lonely black car. Yet the essence of all the children playing and people passing who long since made their ways home were felt as clearly as if they were still their. As the blue light melted into blackness I moved to the center of the playground and spun around feeling the freeness and openess of it all. I grasped my open shirt collar and whispered to myself Should I? Do you think I should? Will they see? I ripped off my shirt and now I was no longer a boy, but a man free and carefree. I raised my arms in victory and spun round and round.

How interesting to dream of a place that was hell for me 20 years ago. I still see it but the playground surrounding the school is now a parking lot. The massive trees whose leaves I would watch blowing in the breeze and daydream about from the upper story classrooms are long gone, as are the brick wall and steps. The segregated playground of a Catholic school in 1980 was not a fun place for an overweight gay boy just beginning to realize he no longer fits in. He can’t go into the girls playground because well, he isn’t a girl, and yet the boys don’t embrace him in theirs — where it’s all rough-housing and team sports — because he is the “odd boy.” Cast aside — more accurately, ignored — I took up residence by the brick wall overlooking the alley.

I would look on as the boys pulled off their ties and shirts to organize themselves into softball games. One of the boys once approached me, raising my hopes that maybe he’s coming over to ask me to be on his team? Instead, and to my horror, he showed me a picture of a naked woman as he then ran back to his teammates laughing. Let down and not sure what just happened, I decided to climb up and hang over the wall. Perhaps something more interesting could be happening outside the proverbial convent walls — something that could rescue me from this. I looked up and down, but it was deserted.

Still continuing to look at nothing in particular, I would imagine what could be happening or what may have happened in the past. People walking their dogs…. cars driving by… friends walking and talking together. Anything would be better than turning around and watching them all yelling, laughing and having fun. Soon someone came along. It was a college kid who was smoking. As he passed I realized he was smoking pot and he offered me a drag. Terrified, I shook my head NO and quickly turned back around to face the softball game only to find I had been joined by two other boys, also odd outcasts. The three of us would spend future recesses playing make believe games for all we had was fantasy to get us through the reality that we were not accepted because we were different.

But when it comes time for the actual meal, one hellish scenario inevitably plays out as the dinner conversation comes around to who is getting married, who isn’t and who is seeing who. The girls begin discussing a gay friend or two as your far right, conservative, republican brother, who is 15 years older than you, begins to writhe in his chair at the head of the table. All eyes turn to you as his bossy wife blurts out your unattached status.

She insists you should be married, or at least have a girl friend and announces in an over joyous manner, “I know just the right girl!” You suddenly wish you’d sink into the floor.

The niece in college points out that the girl is so prissy, “What would he want with her?”

To which the sister-in-law replies, “Look at this place! What do you think he is? They’d be perfect for each other.”

The older, married niece catches your gaze and puts her mother in her place by yelling, “Leave him alone!” with a wink to you and so the conversation quickly shifts and the bomb that could cause World War III is diffused once again, at least until Christmas. And all you can think is, “Christ, where’s dessert?”

It’s not really a surprise that he’s gay, but what is a surprise is how some have been critical of his coming out. Okay, I’m the first to admit that I co-wrote the book on bitchy, opinionated queens, but everybody is different. Given the same circumstances, each person will deal differently. Should we not admire and respect those who have the balls to put themselves out there, opening themsevles up to the world rather than admonish them?

I suppose I have a lot in common with him and found his story to be very moving. He was clearly struggling with the decision that had to be made in an instant – whether to reinforce or shed the facade he had built up to protect himself. When you don’t like yourself, everything is augmented – how you think other people perceive you, how you interact with other people and basically obsessing over everything involved with interacting with others and the resolve to keep the walls up and the facade going of who you think others think you should be.

We all should have such courage and fortitude. WTG J.P., you d’man!

When I was about 10, ‘Battlestar Galactica’ came on the scene. I was obsessed with Starbuck and the actor who played him, Dirk Benedict. He was so cool and so hot. I remember this one picture I had of him in his Colonial uniform and the way he was posed his package was really out there. I just adored the picture. I was so into him that when it came time for my confirmation and I had to choose a name, Benedict was one of the possibilities and chose it, and my mother let me. I suffered a lot of “Benedict Arnold” cracks from the other 4th graders, but the sisters seemed to think it a very good choice. How interesting it is today that the name was very well chosen in that St. Benedict is the patron saint of music, the arts, and philosophy – my huge topics of interest.

Then came the Duke boys. Through my early teens other boys had pictures and posters of Farrah Facet and Charlies Angles and such in their rooms, but on my door was an incredible poster of Bo and Luke Duke from ‘The Dukes of Hazzard’ with open shirts and chest hair showing and in tight jeans. ::SIGH:: All the other boys were into the show too, but they were more interested in Daisy and the car and such. But I think for me it was a cover. When we would role play though, I always ened up being Uncle Jesse. Come to think of it, I always ended up being the old fuddy duddy when we did role playing games.

I always seemed to be better friends with girls than with boys… could just never seem to relate somehow that was not explainable. My first sexual fantasies didn’t include girls, in fact at the time I didn’t even really know that that’s what they were. I found myself jerking off and thinking about other boys that I went to school with… not doing stuff to one another, but just seeing them, and maybe jerking off together.

The first time I heard the word “gay” was while watching an episode of ‘WKRP in Cincinnati.’ The word came up in an episode about a character that was a guest that week. My mom asked me if I knew what that word meant and I said no. She replied, “It means he like men.” I was like… oh… ok.

All through my teenage years and into my 20’s, I still did not think of myself as gay or even call myself gay. I tried to daydream about getting married and having kids and the perfect family life. I tried to start fantasizing about women when jerking off, but it seemed that there was always a guy in the scene that was playing out in my head and it was him that was getting me through it. For the longest time I tried to rationalize it by saying to myself that I grew up without a father, a brother who was absent, and no male friends from my mid teens into my twenties and that I just craved the male companionship and the because men always sexualized things, that made perfect sense to me. What hogwash.

I met several of the actors from the show at conventions and recall one meeting vividly. I once saw Colin Baker (the sixth actor to play The Doctor) in a cabaret. I had an aisle seat and in part of the show he came in from the back and made his way down along the aisle bantering with other actors on the stage. Sitting in the row in front of me and a few seats in was a girl who was just obsessed with him. She had brought a red rose with her to give him and since he stopped to do his thing and sat down on the steps right next to me, she passed her rose to me to give him. I held it out, he looked at it but ignored it (well of course, he was performing). I was sort of glad. Even at 17 I felt that it was imposing of this girl to hand it over and expect someone else to hand it to him while he was performing. So I passed it back over to her. Shortly thereafter he was laughing in response to something from the stage and patted me on the shoulder and belly-laughed leaning into and on me. I was in heaven and thought I will never wash this shirt
again!

Anyway, just before he got up and moved on, there was something in his dialog with an actress on the stage that referred to someone being gay and he shouted back to her, “He was gay!” Now I wanted to sink into the floor. I was not out. I did not even admit to myself that I was gay at that point and… I was with my mother. At the end of the show when they all came out for a bow to a standing ovation, the girl threw the rose up on the stage. He ran over, picked it up and put it between his teeth and looked up at me with a big grin… now I really wanted to sink into the floor! And that was my close encounter with The Doctor!

Then there was something on a dark highway where I felt he was following me there too. Then I was in a basement. It seemed like my brother’s, but darker. Then the dude just appeared there in the dim light and he was intense and I wanted to get away from him or make him go away. How could I explain him to the family?, is what I thought.

I was walking through my brother’s house to go to the kitchen from the basement for some reason. It was a combination of the old and new houses, but it was the new house and the hallway from the old house. It was all chopped up and stretched out and the lighting was eerie. Instead of ending up in the kitchen of the old house, I ended up in the sunroom of the new. On my way there I felt like I was being watched. The house was haunted and ghosts or something were all around, (always dream about the weird house and ghost thing) and so I felt uneasy. When I went in the room I was suddenly naked and the guy from the seminar was there, naked too. I had the feeling he’d been chasing me or following me through this whole dream. It was like It was like I was watching and participating at the same time. We both were hard and I knew he was going to have sex with me and I wanted him to. But then, all of sudden, it changed and I felt like he had been stalking me I was being forced and didn’t want him but I bent over anyway and as he started to penetrate me he collapsed back onto the floor. I panicked and saw and heard Emily and Elizabeth from ‘General Hospital’ coming from somewhere and I ran away out of the other door of the sunroom into an atrium and they didn’t see me as they sat on a bench and talked. I woke up and was late for work. I suppose I watch to much of ABC Daytime!

08.29 N.B. Had this dream last night and it troubles me. Not because of the ghosts and weird house – that is a recurring theme in many of my dreams. What troubled me is it’s the first time that I remember dreaming about being fucked and the fact that it started with me wanting him and changed to feeling like he was forcing me.

09.02 N.B. After thinking about this for awhile, as it still troubled me, I realized that yes he was definitely taking the lead and being very persistent, but it wasn’t that I didn’t want him or felt like he was forcing himself on me. It was more a fear of not wanting to do it for being discovered doing it and that’s why I wanted him to stop.

09.05 N.B. Still thinking about this… obsessing aren’t I? I think I’ve had a breakthrough. I don’t think it was John-Paul Lavoisier at all in the dream, more likely it was the boy who used to deliver our newspaper when I was teenager. I think his name was Alex and he was a year or two younger than me. Christ! Does that make me Brian Kinney if I can’t remember the name of a guy I almost had sex with? His look was the same as JPL — who is close to what he might look like today and so I may have been projecting. He could’ve been my first, we sort of played cat and mouse skirting around the issue, talking on the phone about what we would do, etc. But I was too much in denial, too scared and suddenly stopped it by telling him I was straight. He got mad, called me a faggot, and I never saw or heard from him again. He even stopped the paper route.

I haven’t thought about him a long time. I never really thought much about it other than childhood nonsense, but in retrospect I think he was very interested in me and he was probably scared too. I probably did hurt him a lot after weeks of cat and mouse and then suddenly telling him the big fat lie that I’m straight. It probably was the first time he put himself out there and I shot him down, coldly. For that, Alex, I’m so sorry. If I could do it over again, I wouldn’t have lied and backed out but would’ve gone on to see where it took us. As part of my coming out to myself and accepting being gay a few years ago, I made myself a promise that if asked, I would never lie about who I am. I don’t know if I can live up to it or not, but hope that I have the courage to.