My good friend Aimie and I recently met up with an old high school acquaintance of ours named Nathan. Nathan treated both of us and countless others pretty badly when we were younger. He was an asshole, a big jerk who bullied the boys and harassed the girls. He used to come up and act as if he was going to punch you, he wouldn’t and then said, “Two for flinching” and punch you twice really hard.

There was one boy who for the entire half of 7th grade wore a black and blue mark on his right shoulder; he was a favorite target of Nathan. I managed to dodge Nathan by keeping a look out for him and cutting class or taking alternate routes to the bus at the end of the day. I still got my fair share of torment that stuck with me for a long time. Those years were awful for me and he was 65% of the problem.

As I write this I remember that Nathan had done this to Aimie in some twisted courtship. When her mom saw the punishment for flinching she called in the police thus introducing all of us to the chief of police for our city.

The police chief turned out to be a very good friend of my family. My parents would often make him dinner when he would come round looking for me or to tell mom and dad of my most recent criminal endeavors.

At any rate, Aimie had seen Nathan out and began to speak to him socially. At first I was mad that she would even look in his direction, but then remembered that was long ago and he might have changed, maybe, Aimie said he had and I trust her opinion.

All things aside, I’ve come pretty far from the little blue-haired pothead in high school. I wanted to meet him and show off a bit, but also secretly desired an apology. I had forgiven him, I really had, but it still does not excuse him from what he did. He apologized, very sincerely I might add, and we caught up on our years past. We talked about where we ended up, where we lived and what we were doing for a living. I spent a good 15 minutes talking to him about that one. So all in all it was nice to tie up that loose end. We finished our Amarone, gave him a hug, shook his hand and wished him well.

A toast to forgiveness and making amends in the New Year!

Last month I had lost a big filling from my mouth during a time of slight turmoil and unrest. The minor loss proved to be a major catalyst for change. From a psychological point of view, dreams about losing one’s teeth or loose teeth are a sign of loss of control and or a sense of being unprepared. In my experience, that has been pretty accurate. Knowing that, when my filling fell out it was a clear and loud sign that was taking physical form. It’s that relationship that I have with my body that often speaks louder than life itself. I was amazed at how blind I had been and to a large degree, lost control.

To take care of the problem and fix that life saving molar I turned to my buddy Chris who happens to be a dentist. It helps to have friends. It was a very large filling, I remember when I had it done. My mother took me to a local dentist who saw the cavity and claimed that a root canal was imperative and needed to be done right away. Following a cursory inspection of the shoddy facility Ma Hazzard said, “You’re out of your f’ing mind, we’re going somewhere else”.

That’s how we found Dr. Jeffery Orchen, who would be my dentist until I left Ohio. It was a major cavity, but I was spared the root canal by Dr. Orchen and left with a nearly 50% filling to fall out in June some 18 years later.

At the dentist’s office today I was given two doses of Novocaine and left for 20 minutes. Apparently this was supposed to be enough to make my lips and face numb. It was no where near numb, I was given two more. It wasn’t until after the procedure that I really felt the effects. It is a very annoying feeling, being numb and I forgot how dreadful it is. Drinking water required mind over matter and left me and Milo quite moist for the ride home.

With that ordeal behind me it became clear to me that I had some other things to deal with. Namely to take control of a situation I had been ignoring. I’m a big boy, I should know better, but sometimes I get my priorities out of whack and it takes a big piece of metal falling out of my mouth to remind me what is important.

I decided that I would go to P’town yesterday. Having lived there I know that Saturday following the fourth is the day of transition between two very different sets of gay men. The circuit crew was here since last Sat for P’town’s legendary 4th week and would be departing just in time to cross paths with bears coming in for Bear Week.

For those of you a little lost, a bear by definition in the gay world is the kind of guy that doesn’t necessarily fit the stereotype of your typical gay male. They are usually hairy, stocky and like to drink unlike their circuit brothers who are closely manicured and usually sip on water all week. Anyhow, I chose this time deliberately because the circuit crowd would be a bit more than I care to handle these days. Don’t get me wrong, I still like to hang with those boys, but not on my home turf. I would much rather partake of that when I have a hotel room and a departing plane ticket.

I also find the bears much easier to deal with. They are not so concerned with how they look to themselves or other people and that allows them to open up and fully enjoy themselves. Unlike the standard gay clones that rarely venture far from the herd, bears are not afraid to say a simple eye contacted “Hello!” Confidence and an outgoing personality are so much sexier to me than a six pack and a pretty bum.

All I needed was the day yesterday to enjoy and feel like it was time well spent. Plus, I needed to get the first batch of my newly resized T-shirts to Ruff Ryder for sale. My day was spent hanging on the beach in front of my house and strolling up and down the main drag, Commercial St. Walking among this new crowd I myself felt more confident and at ease. Their attitude is impossible not to taste, the confidence exudes and is easily taken in. All good things must come to an end as I needed to get back today to get myself ready for my work week. I have a very good friend and his partner coming in from LA to P’town and staying at my place come Tues for a week. This is the man that took me in my first summer and that I lived with that summer and my next. We also spent the winter together between those two summers in South Beach. Needless to say I owe the man. I am totally stoked to be seeing him this Thurs for the weekend in our “hometown” where it all began.

My camera that Billy gave me is starting to show signs of decay. It took me several tries to power it on and a couple more to get the display screen to come up. I have been eyeing this cute little pocket sized Cannon and I think that this will be my new best friend. Boy Wonder is going to love it. I managed to get a couple shots of the view from my beach for the entry today and you all can expect to start “seeing more” on here very soon.

Today was the type of day that moved so slowly that there were times I would’ve sworn that it moved backwards. I just wanted the day to end. I had no evening obligations so I felt very hopeful at what I might get into. Today was also the most perfect day this June has seen. I wanted nothing more than to be in it.

On the way home I began to think up some sort of errands that would include minimal contact with the public and maximum contact with the outdoors. I came to mowing the lawn for Sarah. We went shopping for garden supplies last weekend. We opted for a lawnmower that used no gas or made any sound. It is one of those vintage mowers that have the blades going round the axle like a staircase. A little out dated and not nearly as effective, but we will not disturb a soul. Perfect!

To round off our oil defiance, we bought the power operated weed-wacker. So I got outside and got to cut things, pruned the tiger lily bush and edged the yard in the back. It looks great and was completely satisfying to manicure something while having the sun on my back. Yard work has always appealed to me. A sense of Zen the liberty to create is pretty much all I need to be wholly content.

When I was in my late teens I had a job landscaping with a good buddy of mine. It was a great job, we did huge accounts and we rode the mowers then. They had 36″ decks and we stood atop a little wheel trailing from the back with foot racks on either side. It was a fun ride, especially when you would hit a tree root either knowingly or completely off guard. At lunch, Jason and I would climb the nearest tree with our lunches, get high, eat and laugh, then put in a couple more hours riding the “SCAGS” and riding out our buzzes watching the sun set. Good times…

Last night I received a rather amusing e-mail from Rita, my largest fan to date in Pennsylvania. She found this photo of me while surfing the net and wondered if my eyes really were different colors. Totally genuine, I’m really surprised the people at Rascal didn’t have acfew words with me, for changing my eye color in one eye. But as you remember from my tattoo mid way through the making of “Bolt” I like to push the buttons and tug at the limits a bit.