Category Archives: Queer stuff

Bears, Queens, Fags, Twinks, Dykes, Trannies, Transexuals, the whole nine inches.

My Trip To San Fran

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

I was speaking to Richard online yesterday and he reminded me of the trip we took to San Fran back in ’93. Set the Wayback machine, Mr Peabody…! (Oh, and the following isn’t all that great for nervous heterosexuals at the office or immediate family members – somewhat TMI content.)

I got to San Francisco two days before Richard and spend the first morning wandering the beautiful streets. Well some of them. The Tenderloin was to be avoided back then, according to the front desk. But I did manage to walk through during the day without any trouble. One guy stopped me and asked for a dollar and I said I only had a twenty (like the STUPID dumb tourista I am) and he insisted that I go get a package of gum or a donut to make change. I got out of there fast.

While walking around with bags of shopping I stopped in at The Gauntlet. I don’t know how I knew that this was San Fran’s premier body modification shop at the time, I just did. I had dated a guy who had a nipple ring and I was impressed how he would writhe whenever I touched it so I was intrigued. I entered The Gauntlet and asked the bejeweled woman behind the counter for a big ol’ nipple ring. She took one look at me and my tourist shopping and said “Come back tomorrow”. I relented. She said “Really think about it and come back in an hour.” I walked around the block and was back in the shop in 20 minutes. Ka-CHUNK. Painless, really. Small at 12g (the smallest) but I vowed to “grow” into something larger.

I showed it off to Richard the next day in our hotel room much to his disgust. In the morning, I had to spin the ring to clean in behind it and after sleeping the night, it got kind of… stuck. So I twisted it without thought (or lubricating soap). I fell to my knees in pain. Richard just shook his head and laughed.

We did all the touristy things. It was fun. Then came the night and we wandered in and out of clubs on Castro like good homos making homage to homomecca. After the posing, we decide to do something naughty. We chose to go to a safe sex club. “The 101” boasted its “jack off only” policy and that seemed interesting and yet tame for a firsts timer. Don’t get me wrong, I had been to bath houses before, just not a full on “sex club”. We get into a cab and go.

At the door we were ordered to get naked and were given the house rules: no towels like a bath house, no underwear allowed. Shoes only. No heads below the bellybutton. No penetration. Pure masturbation. We enter the club and it’s pretty open and full of guys milling about. At this point, I realize that my snazzy black dress shoes and black socks make me stick out like a shaved cat in a beaver convention. Guys are wearing construction boots, sports runners, sandals, even a cowboy or two. I’m the only dressy nerd. Richard pees himself laughing. I barely get noticed and blame my shoes completely, not my chubby body.

One guy did notice me though. He was good looking and smiled as he worked his junk, walking towards me. He didn’t notice my footwear! I was gonna get some! I smile and we face each other. He cocks his head (ha!) to one side and then grabs my less-than-24hr-old nipple ring and gives it a manly tug.

Extreme long shot of the exterior of The 101. A shriek blares from the club and echoes into the cool San Francisco night.

Disney, Biznatches!

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

This weekend, Sharkboy and I paid for our flight and hotel to Orlando. After nearly 40 years of fidgeting, I am finally going to Disney World!!! OHMYGOD PONIES!!!

We’re going for 7 full days, 8 nights next May and weirdly enough, we’ll be there for Gay Days and at least one Bear party at some chlorine enhanced water park. Time to dig out a red shirt!

We’ll be staying at The Pop Century Hotel (budget – ew) where everything is decorated huge. We’ve gone and got the Birnbaum’s Walt Disney World and Birnbaum’s Walt Disney World Without Kids books and have been creating strategies and park maneuvers to maximize the fun.

I am going to pee myself. 39 days and counting!

Also, if you do any travel agent bookings, I recommend Jake at Flight Centre, lower level at the Eaton Centre. As well as being efficient, fast and informative, he’s cubby cute. When he advised that the room we were booking would have two double beds I said “Yeah, one is for bouncing on!” he laughed. So he’s okay in my books.

My Own Batchelor

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

With all the hype about the new run of The Bachelor these days, I’m reminded of my own brush with Naval gentlemaness (no, not you Evil Panda. Some day I will blog about us, to be sure).

About a million years ago I met this guy online who sent along his picture of himself (long before Myfacespace we actually had to send our graven images, kids!) in a snazzy dress uniform of the Canadian Navy. Strikingly handsome and in a uniform. It was like a gay demi-god landed in my lap. He wanted to go see a movie we had mutually agreed on and made plans to meet out front of his condo. Condo!

I buzzed up and he wasn’t quite ready yet, could I come up? Visions of us missing the movie due to court marshal role playing flashed into my head. He opened the door and was everything his picture promised. Groomed, short hair, bright smile.

“Are you t-t-t-t-t-tuh-Ted?” he said with a swallow.

Oh lord.

Now don’t get me wrong. I could see past stuttering to a very nice guy, based on our online messages. But there was no warning and I have the type of personality that is rather impatient at times and I know the worst thing you can do for stutterers is to correct them or second guess what they’re going to say.

Regardless I press on.

We’re standing outside the Uptown theatre (oh how I miss you Uptown) and we’re actually having a good time. We’re talking movie trivia and quite suddenly, mid-stammer, a big glob of spit flies from his mouth onto my chest. I think he didn’t notice, due to his non-acknowledgement of the spittle, but I certainly did.

This was the exact moment when I became aware of the saying “Elephant in the room”. I didn’t react. But my sudden shower certainly tainted the whole thing. I couldn’t stop thinking of how my friends would react to his stutter, what people might say about us behind our backs, how my family might treat him if he spit on them during dinner or something. The rest of the date had a definite “mood”.

We walked back to his condo and just as we reached his door, he turned and said, “I’ve had a great time. I hope we can be just friends!”

“You’re not into me?” I asked.

“Not in the slightest, that way.”

You stuttering fuck, I thought.

Just Resting, Thanks

Queer stuff, Toronto

I just saw an ad for Steamworks “Gym” on the subway. I airquote Gym because it’s main money draw is its gay sex bath house area (private rooms, steam room, showers etc), not it’s gym facilities. Maybe they’re trying to change their image? Maybe I’m getting old and conservative but I thought it weirdly inappropriate.
The ad boasted images of unobtainable male bodies and fancy schmancy plumbing fixtures (’cause that’s the number one thing I look for in a gym) and it gives the old sex club an aura of respectability, for a gym. But The Steamworks is as much a gym as Rick Mercer is a politician. The ad made me wonder if the guy in charge of marketing was on Tina and poppers when he came up with the idea to advertise on the subway.

I’m all for equal opportunity ads but I don’t see a lot of ads for straight sex clubs on the Teet.

And the Winner Is…

Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Toronto

Pride 2007’s Grand Marshal is Michele DuBarry!

Her numbers were just too great with the backing of two social groups. Had I more time and better organization, however, I think I could have chipped away at her backing and made her nomination a bit less solid. I believe that she deserves the honour (but not as much as Da, of course) and I wish her the best as Grand Marshal for Pride 2007. Keep that makeup away from the waterguns!

I did get some encouraging words from the board, post-vote and thank them for the opportunity to yammer about my Dad.

Sorry Da! Looks like I’m going to have to get you a real present anyway.

We now continue with our regularly scheduled brainless web fun!

My Speech to Nominate My Dad for Pride Grand Marshal

Personal Bits, Queer stuff, Toronto

At the Pride Grand Marshal vote tonight, the 519 was a cross section of our community. LGBTTIQ2S ($5 to anyone who names all the communities without Googling it) filled the auditorium. Much formailty ensued and motions were put forth.

I looked around the room to see my father’s sister with her boyfriend. My Dad’s good friend Yvan and friend had come. The “Edward Healey” camp was a bit thin.

We were informed that our time was cut short and we had 3 minutes to speak. I was called and approached the stage. I placed a photo of Dad up on the podium and let ‘er rip. Here is my speech, in it’s entirety, with the on-the-fly editing I had to do:

Honoured Pride Board, Nominees, Ladies and Gentlemen. My name is Ted Healey and I am here to nominate my father, Edward Healey, for Grand Marshal for Toronto Pride 2007.

My father can’t be here tonight because he is currently spending winter in Buenos Aries, and is draining my inheritance. I have an email from him confirming his acceptance to be nominated.

Who is Edward Healey and why vote for my father? First and foremost, it’s his 75th birthday this year and I have no idea what to get him. I figured a nice ride down Yonge street would be fun.

Seriously, Edward Healey is the perfect model towards which all gay persons should aspire and therefore the ideal person to be the Grand Marshal of this year’s Parade. He is a good parent, patient and understanding, and has proven through his volunteerism, leadership and availability to the community, that he does not suffer endless indecision and inaction. His commitment to honesty is a shining light for all who are hiding from themselves. To those who are living in fear, his life embodies the saying “The Truth shall set you free”

Edward was born in Lindsay, Ontario, 1932. Dad came of age in a conservative world that had assigned a very abject place to gay men, something he was aware of and fearful of, and that was one of the reasons that led him to get married. However, I believe that he and mother were genuinely happy together because all you have to do is look at the family photos, and there are five children to prove it.

I’d like to quickly mention my siblings because my father raised some great people:

My oldest brother, Dan, is a professor of Soviet Era Gay History at Swansea University, in the United Kingdom. In his youth, Dan’s activism paved the way for the privileges we take for granted today. He was ordained as a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence and was one of the many angry voices during protest of the Bathhouse raids while he studied at UofT. Dan is happily married to his husband, Mark, a year and a half now.

My oldest sister Michele is a Supervisor for the Anesthesiology department at the Calgary General Hospital. She tells me that in her life, she has learned from Dad never to be afraid of change.

My middle brother, John has taken up sales like my father did at his age and is regional sales manager for a high end line of electronics.

The brother just older than me, Michael, is the recipient of the Governor General Literary Award in 1999 for his play, The Drawer Boy. He is currently writer in residence at the Tarragon Theatre.

And me? I’m here, with my husband, to nominate my dad. I owe him so much and it’s the least I can do for him. He’s my best friend, my confidant, and role model.

At this point I was told I had 30 seconds to finish up. I skipped this paragraph, noting that Dad’s accomplishments were listed in the flyer handed out to the group within his bio blurb.

In the early 80s when my father came out, he entered into the Toronto Area Gays Coming Out Support Group, utilizing the first of many community services that were open to him at the time. From there, he flourished to an active member within the LGBT community. He has volunteered for ACT, stood by me in the rain as we hauled hors d’oeuvres into Moss Park for Fashion Cares and is currently an active volunteer and parishioner for MCCT. Edward has actively volunteered his time to the over-40s social group, Prime Timers Toronto for some time now. In fact, he has been president of Prime Timers “two and a half time”? (he tells me) and I am told that his peers have nominated him this year, to sit on the World Board of Prime Timers.

This is where I jumped to:

The beauty of dad’s ‘gay values’ lies in the fact that he never forgot to be a father first. In fact, perhaps discovering he had two gay sons helped him to be a better father. Dad’s commitment to his family and to our community has been strong and effective. He has been Unstoppable! Dad upholds the tenets of Pride and without a doubt should be recognized for his accomplishments.

In conclusion I ask that you consider whom, you should put at the front of the Pride Parade. Whether you choose “Person” or “Persona”, I ask that you choose honestly and with pride. Please vote for my father, Edward Healey.

We find out in a weeks time by press release on Pride Toronto’s site.

I would like to thank Yvan C for helping me slap this together with a week and a half  notice. And special thanks to Sharkboy for his support. He’s been great.

Good Luck Da!

Attention Readers/Feeders! I Need YOU There…

Personal Bits, Queer stuff

DadHey …uh … bloggosphere… I need your attention for a moment.

I mentioned a couple days ago that I’ve nominated my Dad to be Grand Marshal for this year’s Pride Parade, right?

I need a favour of you. I need all of you reading this blog to show up at the 519 on Tuesday, February 27th, 7pm (519 Church Street, just north of Wellesley). I know I’m up against impossible odds going against the popular Michele DuBarry, and I respect her and her accomplishments but I really want this for my father. She can run next year, but my dad’s 75th birthday only comes once.

I’ve never begged before but I’m on my knees here. If anything, please link to this post so that word gets around T.O. I need to get bodies into that auditorium and vote for my father. If you know him, then this is a no-brainer. If you don’t, trust me, you’re backing the right horse.

Why Edward Healey? Because he’s a prime example of the saying “The Truth Shall Set You Free”. He married early, did the dutiful oldest son thing of having 5 kids and raised them as a good parent should. Then he came out of the closet while living in a small town of 20,000. He never stopped being my father after that, despite the opportunity to run off an live his new life. In fact, he became my best friend and a positive roll model as fathers should be. At 75 there is no stopping him: he volunteers for MCCT, The Gardiner Museum and is active with the Toronto chapter of Prime Timers. Want to know more? Come to the 519 on Tuesday and hear me give a (hopefully) moving speech that will sway the crowd to vote for my Da.

What’s in it for you? Know that you’d be voting for a person, not a persona…

More Pride Parade info here.

My Father, Grand Marshal

Celebs and Media, Personal Bits, Queer stuff

This year will be my father’s 75th birthday. Still spry and active, he’s currently in Buenos Aries getting away from our harsh winter. While he’s away I got the brilliant idea to nominate him for Grand Marshal for this year’s Pride Parade. What a fitting birthday gift! I culled together the siblings and friends and had them write up a few lines of memories, feelings, thoughts that would help me with my case when I stand before the board of directors of Pride Toronto. I’m optimistic that Da has a chance.

That is, until I opened this week’s Xtra and learned that Michelle DuBarry is running and has an ad in that paper (Colour! Not cheap!) and a glowing letter to the editor from a past GM gushing that to choose a drag queen as Marshal was the best thing since slingbacks.

Uhoh.

In my heart I know my dad is the ideal candidate. Not that I have anything against Miss DuBarry, but come on! She had all this time to apply, why now? I’m worried that the cult of celebrity will ensure Miss DuBarry’s win in this situation. I wonder if I can appeal to her to run next year?