The Soundtrack of My Life

September 30, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 33 – Heaven

My entrance into any kind of gay community was very limited, unfortunately. I look back and I have a lot of regret that I wasn’t able to spend a little more time in that kiddy pool while I could. On the other hand, I was also self-destructing at the time and very likely would have ended up travelling a very dark path. Like with most “missed opportunities,” I’ll never know what could have been.

Right when I started dating Travis a little establishment opened up in downtown Bakersfield that was a beacon of hope for young gay youth. The club was titled “Bam-bams” and it was an experimental 16 and up disco. There was no liquor served, just looks, attitude, and dance moves. There was a cover charge, which is why most weekend nights it was more entertaining outside of the club than in. If you happened to hand over the $5 cash, you would find an empty black-box room filled with multiple video screens and dance music. Mirrors adorned the walls, to entertain the one lone dancing queen, wearing a crop top and shorty-shorts. The first time I went in I was so disappointed. It turned out that I was one of a few f*gs in this little town. I’d make the rounds and then tote myself back out front to chit-chat with the poor kids and the young queen working the door.

“Heaven” was one of the songs I discovered at the club. I still remember the music video, and one time even asked the lone bartender/owner to play it in the mix. He gave me a thumbs up and a wink.

Every Friday or Saturday night I would tote myself and my friends to Bam-Bams (aka BSqaured). I was beginning to build a community and make new friends that quickly replaced my hetero ones. None of the connections I had made during that time are currently in my sphere. They’re not even Facebook friends. It’s almost as if they never really existed. They were just phantoms. They helped me come into myself as a gay man and through my break-up of with Travis. I also frequented this little establishment because it was just around the corner from the actual bar my tatted ex liked to haunt. If I went I had the off-chance to catching a glimpse of him.

Oh, youthful infatuation.

As I was want to do at that time, that guy was quickly replaced by my next relationship, which happened to be to my future husband. One of our first ever pictures was taken outside of Bam-Bams.

My friend Eddie had taken the photo. He did it as “side shade.” He HATED Charlie with a passion, but that was because he had wanted to date me. (Good Lord I sound conceited.) He was one of the ones who encouraged my “bad habits” at the time. Regardless of his intentions, this moment is forever with me.

The last time I went was when I had been caught making out with a dude who was not Charlie, by a couple friends of ours. They pulled into the parking spot me and this guy happened to be macking in front of. Once they got out, and I saw who it was, I tried to pull it off like nothing had happened. But we both know they had seen what I had been doing.

That night I got unbelievably wasted. Charlie picked me up on his way home from the bar down the street, and walked me back to his apartment. On the way there he found my pack of cigarettes, Camel Turkish Gold, in my pocket.

“What are these?” He said and proceeded to leave them on the lid of a trash can.

“Hey!” I had said, but he acted as though nothing had happened and ushered me further down the street. And being so drunk I quickly forgot about them.

He hated it when I smoked. And this discovery went against my previous statement that “I was quitting.”

That night I sat on the floor of his bathroom, at the edge of his toilet, puking my guts out. At one point I demanded he give me bread, as one of my friends had said it helps sober you up. He laughed and brought me a slice of sour dough.

“Not this,” I had said and threw it in the trash.

In the morning I came clean about what had happened that night. I was caught. And when I am found out I don’t lie my way out of it. I rather face the consequences than make it worse. Plus, I didn’t want him to hear it from someone else. The truth would be better delivered from me, than a casual acquaintance.

He was angry and barely spoke to me. For whatever reason he kept me around the rest of the day. We went and did his laundry at a laundromat across town, where he continued to ignore me. I didn’t know what I was doing there and all I wanted to do was leave. Little did I know he had been working out if I was worth the trouble of keeping around.

As the present can attest, he decided to not break it off. (Stupid man.)

It did however initiate my pattern of doing horrible shit and getting caught. And our subsequent knee-jerk reactions of implementing restrictions to my life to avoid any more of these cruel/stupid choices.

In reality he should have ended it with me. I was mess at the time and didn’t, even remotely, have my shit together. It didn’t occur to me until doing this project, just how fucked up I was. In the span of a year I was dumped 3 times, by 3 different guys. That’s bonkers. I was newly out and discovering who I was as a gay man, and that wasn’t the most simple of tasks as I was coming from a very, very religious background/upbrining.

If he hadn’t stuck with me, I am genuinely curious how I would have ended up. More than likely I would have contracted HIV, because my sex education focused more on the “don’t do it” than the “USE A GODDAMN CONDOM!”

I don’t think I would have abused recreational drugs. That was the one thing about Christian school that had stuck. I would however, have been a raging alcoholic. And most likely would have jumped from one job to the next without ever having any ambition to go back to school or start an “adult” career.

But this is all speculation. None of this could have happened. I could have moved away and started an entirely different life. Who fucking knows. All I can say with certainty is that I wouldn’t be where I am now.

September 29, 2022

The Soundtrack of my Life – 34 – Chicago

After a 3 day stay in Chicago we are back on the road heading to Akron. This little road trip of mine was concocted to celebrate the one we took for the hubs’s second opinion at the Mayo Clinic. It was also a defiant choice because he told me previously that he wanted our Alaskan cruise to be his last trip. I can’t have that. Not yet. He has since recanted his statement. Instead he has corrected it to be “no more road trips. Only cruises.”

That’s fine, punkin. Whatever you want.

Other than the title of the song, this doesn’t make me think of Chicago in the slightest. I thought it was a good choice seeing as how we had just been there. Expect the forthcoming songs to be similar in nature. What’s fun with my future choices is that they do in fact remind me of moments in my life.

The first time I ever heard this song, and immediately became obsessed with it, was from the opening credits of the Netflix show “The Politician.” It may have aired in 2019 but I didn’t get around to watching it until the first Covid lockdown. It had been a special request watch from the bf since it had his crush, Ben Platt. My interest in a Ryan Murphy program was minimal at best. So, I had kept pushing it off until we were faced with copious amounts of time and nothing to fill it with.

Covid truly changed my life. As I’m sure it did for everyone. But it feels like for me it changed everything significantly moreso. For the better.

Up until lockdown, the interaction between my husband (Charlie) and my bf (Josh) ranged from non-existent to limited. For the first 2 years of Josh’s and my relationship it had been very, very separate. Per the bf’s request and just the newness of polyamory for all of us. When everything closed and we couldn’t go anywhere, we were forced together.

We all started watching tv together in silence. It was awkward at first. Josh didn’t know how to act around Charlie and vice versa. It took some time to reroute old habits to where they began to have their own rapport.

My two relationships are very different in how they function. My husband is not very affectionate, we are more mentally intimate (conversations/debates/discussion.) Physical intimacy is just not who Charlie is. A peck on the lips every once in awhile satisfies his needs.

The boyfriend on the other hand… he’s attached to the hip. He has to be touching me. And I don’t say that as a complaint, it’s just how it is. I appreciate both forms because they suit me. I am someone who is happy when my partner is. So trying to find a balance with the two was a challenge.

This song brings back those first few months of mixing the two lives. If you compared how they are now to then, night and day. We’ve done many trips together. We’ve shared a bed (in a non-sexual way for you nosey betches) and we’ve all gotten comfortable around each other hanging in our hot tub in the buff. Again, nothing sexual.

I have to recognize how much the bf gave in the beginning. This was not initially the situation he wanted. There were other boundaries in place that kept everything separate. I imagine to keep himself from being hurt by seeing me with the husband. He was making himself fit for me. Either he has grown accustomed to it and appreciates the relationship for what it is or he’s tricking himself. I hope it’s the latter. I constantly worry that I have somehow manipulated him into this relationship. I do not want that at all. My number one goal is ALWAYS consent. And when I have brought up these same concerns to him he has always affirmed that I have not. He is here of his own choice.

Unfortunately the bf is not with us on this trip. A month off is entirely too long for him. He will however be meeting us midway through, for the weekend, and at the end. And I’ll be happy to have my whole family together again.

September 29, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 44 – This is Halloween

At one point in my life I was living to fit in. I had yet to discover my own likes and instead took on the ones of those around me. Granted this was during a brief period in my late teens. After coming out I was searching for a new identity because I didn’t believe the previous fit. In hindsight it did. I just refused to separate the Christian from it. Faith was never really my identity. It was me trying to fit.

When I came out I became “goth.” I was trying to fit in with my new friends and trying to re-catch the eye of my ex Sergio. The more time I spent with them the more I went further in. At one point I wore a long black priest robe and combat boots with spikes in them. My favorite addition was eyeliner. So spooky!

I was the reverse of Jack from The Nightmare Before Christmas. I was Christmas trying to be Halloween.

Tat this point in time I claimed that was my favorite movie but it was bullshit. I forced myself to like it. Now I really don’t. It is okay but the people who make it their entire identity I always associate with the time I claimed it was mine. It’s entirely a farce. They’re just trying to be something they’re not. Ironically, just like Jack.

But just like the Pumpkin King while trying to play a role I didn’t fit I ruined everyone’s time. My parents worried endlessly about me. And I alienated myself from my former friend group. Which turned out to be a good thing because staying with them would have made my self discovery about my tastes and my sexuality not happen. It took me playing a role to find myself.

Granted I didn’t emerge from this “Halloween” era fully formed. I had a lot of rough edges I had to polish out.

Another reason I have grown to dislike this movie is that Tim Burton is a secret racist. If you look throughout his films there is no diversity. Always just some thin, kooky hero who has an adoring beautiful white woman fawning over his weirdness. And in this movie the one black role is the villain and his name is OOGIE BOOGIE! Coincidence? Possibly. But. There is other evidence throughout his career.

Other notable connections to this song are of me singing along with my old roommate to it. Doug was such a good friend until we discovered he was a liar and a thief. He was the sweetest but if I can’t trust you I can’t give in this relationship.

Another was this dude who introduced to me his friend, who would become my ex-jay, gave me a $100 for NO reason and I ended up buying the Nightmare Before Christmas soundtrack and “order of the Phoenix.” Which would turn out to be my most hated of the series, before Rowling would reveal herself to be a cunt and therefore none of them hold up for me.

September 23, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 32 – I Will Talk And Hollywood Will Listen

Man, I can already see this post going south and I have barely written a word. I will warn you in advance this is going to get pretty bleak. Just because the subject matter is bittersweet. So, if you don’t want to dive into your weekend with a rain cloud I suggest finding some other worthwhile reading material. It certainly isn’t here.

I had debated on what song to use for this topic. Originally, the one included, was what brought up the discussion, but when I started to outline ideas in my head there was another that was more topical. My back-up song was “Dying in LA.” That one seemed to embody more of the overall tone of the post, but the song is a real downer. Which is probably why I love it so much. I do love to bum myself out. While I will not include it in the post, I do recommend giving it a listen. The symmetry of the lyrics is so well done. It’s truly a masterpiece in song writing.

Robbie’s songs, written with Guy Chambers, always hit a nerve with me. In a good way. Their collaborations are always top of my list, and rarely, if ever, do I dislike a single track. I was bummed when they stopped working together. Robbie’s hits got few and far between for me. They lacked something extra. They were missing the Guy sound that I thoroughly enjoy. Even now, the albums he completed with Guy I listen to from beginning to end, no skips. Later releases don’t come with that level of dedication.

I was ecstatic to learn that the two wrote a musical together based on the book of the same name “The Boy in the Dress.” Unfortunately it debuted right before Covid and I’m afraid that may have destroyed it’s chances of being notable. I still haven’t given the soundtrack a listen, but that is because I have this weird hang-up with listening to musicals without the context of the story or scenes to attach the musical numbers to. It’s dumb, I know, but I can’t enjoy the songs without some perspective. And unlike an old friend of mine, I don’t seek out the source material and research the shit out of it to put everything together. I have other unimportant bullshit to waste my time on.

It’s funny to me that the two wrote a musical together, because I actually had written my own “musical” (in the vein of Mamma Mia) using Robbie Williams songs. This song was the opening number. I had an outline of the track list in my head, but it has been years and the one I had jotted down has gotten lost in the shuffle. Plus, I had a problem with the final act and how I wanted it to end. The primary issue with using pop songs for musical numbers/narrative is that not every point of the story is available in a pop stars catalog. Which is why Mamma Mia works and doesn’t. Some songs involve a real heavy-duty “suspension of disbelief” to have the songs make sense in the content of the story.

At one point I wanted to talk and Hollywood listen. Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be an actor. I would put on my own little plays, and even now I entertain myself (and my polycule) doing little skits about random things. Some of my spur of the moment characters are memorable enough to be inside jokes.

I use to do a lot of community theatre and at one point I did a few shows in Hollywood. I even made an effort to do “actor platforms” and have my headshots taken. All of this in an effort to win myself an agent. But the cruel fact of the “fame chase” crashed upon me: I was just another face in a sea of 20-something white males trying to make it. What made me so special? I may have had the actual skill, but like my husband likes to point out, “anyone can act.” And I wasn’t the most attractive person trying to accomplish the same goal.

After a very brief stint trying to “make it” I decided to do other things. Unless I was willing to move to LA, the possibility of chasing that dream was pointless. So, as with most “heart desires” I had to let it go.

An unavoidable part of growing up is letting go of our fantasies. As time goes on, it becomes apparent that we only have so much time to dedicate any focus for it to be worthwhile. Unless you want to be shit at a lot of different things, I wouldn’t suggest that. But maybe you are a unicorn who can actually dedicate all their energy into everything. I’d rather strive for excellence with a few things than mediocrity in a number of unrelated efforts.

Maybe some day I will return to get back into acting, but it is not likely. Especially with how things in the world are going. By the time I can dedicate any kind of attention, the world will look like a very different place.