HOMOCOSTAL

(c) Calvin McFadden

I was recently talking with a friend of mine in Los Angeles about the differences between how gay men relate to each other out there as opposed to the way gay men relate to each other here in my hometown of New York City. I’ve had my fair share of relationships in both cities and as I began to ponder my experiences, I realized that the differences between the two locales are pretty huge.

I spent my entire twenties in Los Angeles and I remember having several conversations with paramours that expressed that they did not prefer to be penetrated yet on several occasions it did not take much coercion at all to actually “infiltrate their citadel” as it were. There were even partners that said that they did not perform oral sex yet would attach themselves to my crotch faster than you can say “J.L. King.”

Back here in New York, I find that men are more honest, direct and upfront in pretty much every aspect of life including their sexual proclivities. There are no metaphors when comes to the New Yorkers’ sexuality, there are no grey areas or phrases up for interpretation. When someone in New York says that they are a “top” it means that they are a top, unlike in Los Angeles when it can be interpreted as, “Really-I’m-a-notorious-bottom-but-I-totally-have-issues-with-my-sexuality-so-I-wear-the-baggy-jeans-the-Timberlands-and-walk-with-a-pimp-so-no-one-will-know-exactly-how-much-of-a-flaming-homosexual-I-am-so-I-will-tell-you-that-I-am-a-top-but-if-you-make-the-slightest-effort-to-try-and-fuck-me-I-am-going-wrap-my-butt-cheeks-around-your-dick-so-fiercely-they-are-going-to-need-a-crowbar-to-separate-us.”

As my friend in Los Angeles conveyed, the brothers there still have huge hang ups when it comes gender roles, particularly when it comes to matters of sex. Tops are seen as masculine, virile, prodigious. Bottoms are seen as feminine, weak, powerless. The ideas of strong femininity or solicitous masculinity are foreign concepts to Los Angeleans, particularly when it comes to matters of sex. Sexual positions are not seen as innovative means to an orgasmic end, but rather deeply embedded identification markers that represent your lot in life. In Los Angeles, your desire to penetrate and be penetrated can be synonymous to bar codes on produce, if you like to be penetrated, your bar code will read, “punk.” If you like to penetrate your bar code will read, “rough trade.” And did I mention that these codes are being read and interpreted by other gay men? When did Los Angeles adopt the sexist and homophobic attributes of our heterosexual counterparts and how in the name of all that is sexy did they turn those attributes into erotica?

Now of course being New York born and raised I do have a certain biased towards the games men play on the East Coast as opposed to the West Coast but there is some truth in that you would be hard pressed to find a higher percentage of sexually repressed gay Black men in New York as opposed to the “DL” brothers in Los Angeles. I think of the sexual experiences I’ve had in Los Angeles (e.g. those benches upstairs to the back right of the dance floor of the Catch, behind the curtains at the El Rey) and there is always a certain surreptitious gleam in those memories, not out of remembering the fear we had in getting caught by security and being escorted out, but more of a social concern at the idea of an associate catching us and spreading the absolutely horrible rumor that you, a gay man, were actually having sex, with a gay man… in a gay club. This doesn’t really exist here on the East Coast. Like I said earlier, there are no grey areas when it comes to sex here, there is no hierarchy. There is no “penetrate” you are gay level one, “get penetrated” you are gay level two. Here, we are all able bodied, oversexed men and if someone were to catch me playing naked twister behind a curtain here, there would be no infantile gossip mongering because everyone who would be told would either understand that we are all able bodied, oversexed men and/or would just stand in line for their turn.

The more I think about it I realize that it is an idea of “image”. Like those old “Sprite” commercials that used to tout “Image is nothing, thirst is everything”, Los Angeles is an industry town and it’s industry is the production of images so it’s no wonder that much like the coal dust that has a tendency to spread through Allentown, PA, the toxicity of the images produced from Hollywood has a tendency to spread through the city’s paradigms. In Los Angeles, it’s not whether or not you are a top or a bottom but rather if you represent yourself to be a top or bottom that matters. Which I assume has some amiable qualities since people have been playing that game there for so long… but fuck if I know. Personally, I would rather just cut to the chase and be honest. I don’t particularly view my relationships, sexual and otherwise, as commodities or tools to improve my social status or allure, I view them as sacred talismans, customized to always remind me that at the end of the day, I am alive, I am blessed and I am damn beautiful.

And as far as my sexual practices are concerned, they are what they are. And some might go on and on into oblivion trying to classify my state of being solely based on those practices but I have a tendency to think those same people are over compensating for something lacking in their own personal regime; top, bottom or the salacious space in between, at the end of the day I’m a man… and that’s all that matters. As I was talking to my friend we both began to see our sexual practices a lot like pets and we both began to see New York as walking the dog and the dog walking Los Angeles. And while I love my friend dearly and his constant fight to gain control of the leash… I wouldn’t trade New York for any other bitch in the world.

THE FOURTH ANNUAL BEAUTIFUL MAN LIST

(c) Breeze Vincinz

The Beautiful Man List started in retaliation to the “Most Beautiful People” issues of mainstream magazines (e.g. People, Us Weekly). More than likely the lists would be filled with page after page of thin, chiseled, young, clear skinned people of no color that would fit in quite well in your typical Gossip-Gilmore-Girl-Smallville-90210-esque television show. At the time, I wondered where in the world James Avery, the guy who played the dad on “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” would fit. Or Heavy D. Or any of the “Wassup Guys”. These were the people who rocked my world at the time and in certain ways still do. It began this train of thought of what exactly do I consider to be “beautiful”… and why.

Over the years I have gotten some slack over the choices I’ve made, mainly because the choices I have made have been quite antithetical to the original rebellious intention of the list. There have been more than one thin, chiseled, young, clear skinned man of color that would fit in quite well in your typical I’m-a-thug-but-I-have-a-stylist-and-a-Pilates-trainer hip hop video.

What I have learned is, you just can’t please everybody. And while I do understand how grueling it is to compose a comprehensive list, I’m still unsatisfied by what the mainstream considers to be “beautiful”, and maybe just a little ashamed that in certain instances, I concur.

Over the years when I have posted a personal ad what I have done is reprinted the lyrics to Alanis Morissette’s “21 Things I Want In A Lover” with the notice that these things are exactly what I’m looking for also. They are also what I consider to be the most beautiful attributes of men. The gist of the list is someone who smart, funny, conscientious and can fuck like a stallion. All of which you don’t need a six pack to be… though it wouldn’t hurt… thus the overlap.

So without further ado, I present to you the 4th Annual Monthly Breeze Beautiful Man List. Each one of these men I feel embody every one of the 21 things I and Alanis are looking for in a lover. The majority of these dudes are straight, married or both… but even still… just beautiful…

10. Common (Rapper)

Over the years I have garnered quite the appreciation for Common. He’s truly one of the very few rappers out there that comes off as street smart but not a minstrel show. And that body doesn’t hurt at all.

9. Luis Guzman (Actor)

I have just always loved this dude! I just think he’s adorable and his eyes get me every time! I read this interview he did in Esquire magazine once and fell more in love with him. He has this very unassuming masculine yet humorous quality about himself that just knocks me out. And he’s short… always a plus.

8. Nate James (Singer)

So this is my dream. I’m in NYC, 2:00 a.m., having a hot dog while looking at some magazines on the corner. Nate James gets out of his cab, preferably after a performance of some sort and asks the cashier if he can break a $100 dollar bill. Cashier gives him a smirk no. I give him a smirk yes and give him five $20 bills. He graciously thanks me, hands the cabbie two of the $20 bills, comes back to me and says, “Thanks so much man. I don’t mean to stare but… have you heard that song ‘21 Things I Want In a Lover’ by Alanis Morissette?” with the biggest smile on his face.

7. David Otunga (Reality TV Star)

Truthfully, he should be much higher. Physically, I can’t think of too many men who are as blatantly attractive. But he does have a few flags, volunteering to be nick named “Punk” on national television is one. Literally crying because he could not win the heart of Tiffany “New York’ Pollard on the same television show is another. And though I absolutely love Jennifer Hudson… I mean… come on… have we learned nothing from Star Jones or Terry McMillan?

6. Diesel Washington (Porn Star)

I am very proud to announce the first official Porn Star on the Beautiful Man List. And if I were going to choose a porn star, Diesel would most certainly be the dude. The physical attributes are obviously there: tall, dark, handsome… and his sexual prowess has been documented and certified platinum on several DVDs by Titan Media. But if you ever took a look at his MySpace you’ll see he’s actually a very funny, sensitive and thoughtful guy. If Michelangelo's David were a human I imagine it would be Diesel, you know… if he were bald, had a ten inch penis and liked to fuck white boys into pretzels… which you know… would be kinda weird.

5. Manny Ramirez (Los Angeles Dodgers)

So I know as much about baseball as your typical baseball fan would know about Tori Amos. What I do know, however, that his face was plastered on every screen in my gym for weeks when he was getting into all that trouble with his drug use. I know it’s politically incorrect to think but all that was rolling through my head at the time was… he’s a professional athlete with dreadlocks who’s willing to share his stash… I GOTS to get me some of dat!

4. Deadlee (Gay Rapper)

Once upon a time me I was fooling around the internet and found this really cute dude who claimed himself to be a gay rapper. Fast Forward a year or two and I’m performing with the same cute dude at Los Angeles’ Outfest Spoken Word festival. Fast Forward a couple more years and I’m actually drinking and having conversations with the same cute dude at my local bar. If Diesel is the first porn star on the list, Deadlee is the first person that I sorta know on the list so it’s a little hard to gush here but I’ll say this… I’m still a fan, he’s still cute as all hell, and I wouldn’t mind doing a tequila shot or two off of his stomach.

3. Naveen Andrews (Actor)

Now this one I have to attribute to my friend Jair who listed him in his “Beauty of Humans” section of his MySpace page. I have always thought this dude to be the heartthrob on “Lost” and always thought I was alone in my lust until I saw an incredibly handsome and groomed picture on Jair’s page and decided to search for more pictures on the net that resulted in just a bevy of photographs that fully show this dude to be a walking aphrodisiac. I get that there’s a certain allure between that whole Kate, Jack, Sawyer triangle but I think it’s definitely time for Sayid to get some naked time… how about with Hurley!

2. Michael Eric Dyson (Academic)

I think anybody who has ever seen this dude talk for even thirty seconds would be convinced without a doubt that the rivers that run through this dude are endlessly deep. I love the fact that he constantly challenges all Black men including himself to rise above the inconsistencies that we all fall into. Add that sexy ass beard of his and you have got one well rounded brother that would most definitely have me stuttering if I ever met him.

1. Barack Obama (President Elect)

“This is our chance to answer that call. This is our moment. This is our time - to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth - that out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope, and where we are met with cynicism, and doubt, and those who tell us that we can't, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes We Can.”

Dear Mr. Obama,

Yes I Will.

Love,

Breeze

PLUMP FICTION

(c) Breeze Vincinz

Over the past year or so I have lost a substantial amount of weight. I never really had any plans on talking about it or mentioning it until I got down to some ridiculously Olsen Twin-esque weight but the gist of the matter is that I joined Weight Watchers last January and as of date I have lost 140 pounds. I've got about 80 more pounds to go so I'm still big as an elephant but more like a cute baby elephant… with tattoos. 

I have really been avoiding sitting down and penning my "fat memoirs" as it were or extensively journaling about the journey, but so many people have come up and asked about that journey either out of curiosity or a subtle plea for assistance that I've been thinking that maybe I should sit myself down and have a good long look at how my exterior has affected my interior and vice versa all these years.

As far as I can remember I have always been a big guy. I once saw a picture of myself in the first or second grade and I was just amazed that there was a time in my life when I was weight and height proportionate, I can't remember that far back. All of my memories from grammar school to high school to college to strip clubs all revolve around me trying to find my own little niche as "chubby-funny-guy-with-a-good-heart" in whatever clique I decided to squeeze myself into.

Needless to say, finding that niche in Los Angeles proved itself to be quite the challenging task. Keep in mind that I have always bucked trends. When most people went to college and gained the "Freshman Ten", the ten pounds that most freshmen gain from overindulging in the cafeteria, I actually lost fifty pounds. I didn't stay in a dorm; I got an apartment and had to fend for myself which led to a couple of unintentional extended fasts as I simply could not afford food for almost a year. And when most people come to Los Angeles and lose the "Los Angles Five", the five pounds most people who relocate here shed immediately in response to the smaller waistlines here, I gained a hundred pounds by munching on mountains of "low calorie" and/or "low carb" meals. And after getting my heartbroken in a million pieces, I ballooned up to my all time highest weight of 382 pounds. 

And I do have to say that being an obese African American homosexual man, in Los Angeles of all places, is quite the daunting occupation to have. We're the platypuses of the community, an odd conglomeration of different images patchworked together to reflect different parts of ourselves that we have been fighting against tooth and nail ever since we were kids and learned the meaning of the word "fat". To some I represent the pure depression and sloth that fed many a Hollywood serial killer, to others I represent the safe, kind and intelligent momma's boy who has to pay a prostitute and/or bathhouse in order to get laid. And to others I'm the uncouth ghetto boy whose major thrusts involve fried chicken, marijuana and cartoons. I represent a litany of negative connotations that this city has deemed upon people who don't look a certain way and unfortunately, this city's digestive system (particularly the Black Gay Community's) is designed to evacuate people like myself. And if you don't have some semblance of self here, you're going to get shit out… or go crazy from all the shit that people will dump on you.

The myth is that, once you get to some particular material place in your life, all will be fine with the world. Once you make this much money, once you have this car, once you have this condo, once you date this person and for me it was once I weigh this much, nirvana will be near. But one of my group leaders asked me one of the most simple and profound questions I've ever been asked… "And then what?" So after I'm able to fit into a size 32 jeans… then what do I do. I've always thought about "riding into the sunset", I never thought about "the day after". 

One of the mottos my group leader pines on about which I think is trite as all hell but it's pretty true, is that "Weight loss isn't a result, it's a journey" and the same can be said about life. It shouldn't be an ongoing accumulation of things in which, once you have them you'll be happy, the happy comes living your day to day life. I remember once dating this guy (the one who broke my heart in a million pieces) who figured that once he made enough money and got back into shape and I published a book (and maybe did something with my hair) then maybe we would be happy. I remember telling him that… this is it, this is the relationship… this is supposed to be the good part. 

I always figured that once I lost some weight that I would be happy but that's just not true. I had to get happy first… or at least a true desire to be, the weight loss just helps that. Truth be told, I don't particularly want to be thinner more so than I want to feel good, I want to be good, I want to do good. I want to enjoy the time I spend with my friends and family and not be concerned with whatever bullshit reindeer game that might be going on or concerned that I'm not wearing the latest clothes or have the flashiest car or that I don't have the best body. I honestly believe that there are some guys and gals out there who are 382 pounds or more that are perfectly comfortable in their skin and to them I honestly say God bless you, because that's what it's all about. For me, I can tell you that I wasn't. I was just extremely self conscious, self depreciating and a bit defensive, traits that haven't particularly gone away… but I'm definitely handling it a lot better and that is just as important if not even more so than the actual weight loss. The thing is… if you're an asshole at 435 pounds, you're going to be an asshole at 155 pounds. Weight loss might change the way you appear, but if you're still attacking the world in the same passive aggressive, heavy handed, shoddy way you were beforehand, you're still going to be unfulfilled.

Needless to say, the relationship between me and that guy did not workout… though I started to… three to five times a week at Bally's Fitness. It's a mind numbingly slow process potholed with setbacks, plateaus and a few failures but at the end of the day I feel better and that's what really matters. Don't get me wrong, I totally dig the fact that I can buy clothes that don't have silhouettes of animals in place of their size label, but I was just ecstatic when during my last trip to San Francisco I was able to walk from Ashbury and Haight to the Castro district with one of my best friends without hacking up a lung or passing out from exhaustion.

Another myth that a good friend who also had experienced a major weight loss told me was that as I become more fit, the dating world will reveal a higher level of men of which to choose… which I just think is bullshit. I think it's going to be the same sons of bitches that have always been out there, I'm just going to have a harder time sifting through the mulch. I liken it to a very fair skinned Biracial girl who dates a white guy, they have a beautiful relationship and really dig each other then six months down line the guy makes some disparaging remark against African Americans, maybe even spouting off that he doesn't like them. If the girl were dark skinned, the both of them would have known from the get go where each other stood. Without that filter of skin color, the Biracial girl could conceivably date a member of the Aryan Nation. The same goes with weight. Even though I have lost a great deal of weight, I am still quite the bulky 242 pounds, far from being mistaken as anorexic, and right now I can tell within the first five seconds of meeting someone where their intentions lie as far as dating and/or associating with someone who isn't as pretty as they are. I imagine that the closer I get to my goal weight and getting something that at least resembles a six pack, that filter will slowly fade. At a healthy weight, I could conceivably date some pompous asshole whose main thrust in life is keeping his waistline, IQ and age under 30. The dating world might reveal more men in which to choose… I just doubt if they will be of a "higher level." I think that there will be a higher percentage of physically active assholes thrown in the mix.

It's been my experience that a lot of information out there in regards to weight loss, body imaging, cosmetics and such are all marketing based smoke blown up our collective asses. Every time I see a billboard for the lap band surgery nowadays or an infomercial about some product that promises that you can lose 20 pounds in 20 days or even a fast food commercial that touts the bliss in a deep quadruple fried barbequed bacon burger dog pizza I can't help but roll my eyes at this crazy capitalistic system of ours that tries with Orwellian proportions to make the rich get richer while the poor get poorer by making us feel even more shitty about ourselves, these carrots dangling in front our noses promising the fulfillment of all nirvana once you acquire some waistline, fade cream, hair cut, jean, house, car, burger… which in reality never happens.

You know that old saying "Give a man a fish he'll eat for a day, teach him how to fish and he'll eat forever"? Well that's basically been the most important thing I have got out of Weight Watchers and it has slowly become the lynch pin to my virility nowadays. Weight Watchers isn't trying to sell you prepackaged products that promise good health, they're giving you information on how to obtain good health on your own. They're not giving you fish, they're teaching you how to fish, and from there I just began to look at the world more holistically. If you give me a million dollars, and a car, and a beautiful house, will I get an adrenaline rush and feel happy beyond my comprehension? Fuck yeah! But then there's that question again, "And then what?" What about next year or five years from now, what about after I pay insurance, taxes and utilities on the house, insurance and maintenance on the car, after the big screen television, the trips to New Zealand, the shoes… where did my life go? Wasn't I trying to get healthy and watch my weight before I started ditching my Lean Cuisines for the deep fried quadruple barbequed bacon burger dog pizzas that I can now afford in abundance? Wasn't I trying to increase my writing skills so I can become a better writer, help people, help myself… find God? And the what fuck… wasn't I hanging out with my friends, trying to settle down with somebody who wasn't some pompous asshole whose main thrust in life is keeping his waistline, IQ and age under 30? Giving me the fish of house, car and money would keep me happy for a minute, but learning how to be happy on my own is one of the greatest gifts of life.

When people who I haven't seen a really long time see me nowadays, usually the first thing they say is, "Wow, you lost a lot of weight, you must be happier." I try not to come off as unappreciative but the optimistic truth of the matter is, I'm about the same, I just lost a little weight… but I'm getting there.