Whine and Cheese

I don't have a set date for the anniversary of my coming out. As I have posted before, I came out to myself when I turned 30 years old and started the process of coming out to others very soon after. I have never regretted it for a moment.


Yes, I have this many colors of these shirts...

A couple of weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a co-worker about visiting family for the holidays. I don't recall exactly how, but the discussion came around to him asking me if my parents ever tried to "correct" any obvious gay traits (OGTs) that they may have seen in me.

Being non-athletic and a tad histrionic, I was often labeled as a sissy by other kids, including cousins and even siblings. I know my dad often shut me down whenever things got a bit over the top. I remember that he bought me and my siblings glossy tee-shirts, the kind you saw in the 1970s where a thick, photographic transfer was on the front. My sister had something girly, with a horse on it or a kitten (I think). My brother had the "General Lee" car from "The Dukes of Hazzard." Mine was "Daisy Duke" from the same show, played by Barbara Bach, sitting seductively on her jeep. I tried to find a photo of it online and I couldn't. While I would enjoy the shirt for its kitschy nature now, at the time I was unimpressed with it. Looking back, I see it for what it was, something with a hot girl on the front that I could be seen in by others.

When we would watch the show, there was a scene in the opening credits with Barbara Bach in a red bikini. If I hooted and hollered at it, my dad would laugh proudly. It was all for his benefit and in a house full of kids, I got dad's attention for a few seconds, so it became a weekly event.

My dad signed me and the twin up for football in 3rd grade without asking, that I recall. If he did, it was probably phrased "Do you guys want to go play football? It'll be fun!" without telling us exactly what was involved. I just remember being taken to a locker room one day and fitted with ill-fitting pads and pants, saddled with a helmet too small, and then dragged to a field for my first practice. It wasn't fun. I hated it. When I quit after two weeks, my dad was disappointed in me, giving me dirty stares and not speaking to me for a month after. At 8 years old, that was rough. Again, I'm sure it was done to try to butch me up, but luckily my mom said I didn't have to do it if I didn't want to.

On a side note, my sister took this same approach with her kid that Mom did. If my nephew didn't enjoy sports, he didn't have to play them. I often wonder if she doesn't remember my horrible foray into football as part of her decision-making process.

My folks always said I was the quiet child of their brood. The reason for that was that after being shut down so much for any dramatic behavior, I found being quiet got me less correction. Once my siblings and I hit our teen years, Mom and Dad had to give a lot more attention to my more rebellious twin and sis than me, so I was often left to do whatever I wanted.

Today, there is the movement for gender neutrality, no pushing boys toward boy-things or girls toward girl-things. Some (mostly conservative) folks hate it because it fights the comfortable norm they grew up with, while others love their kids no matter what and don't believe it's necessary to push them toward things they may not want.

So did my folks try to correct my behavior, yeah, but mostly my dad. I've heard and read horror stories of others' experience, so mine pale in comparison.

No, not that kind of spanking...

When I was home last, I was sitting with Mom, who has started living more and more in the past. She was watching "Gunsmoke," an episode where Matt Dillon was trying to get some rest but was being constantly disturbed by others, including a juvenile delinquent who he ended up spanking. Mom asked me if she and my dad overdid it with the spanking.

It's a funny question because spanking was really the only punishment they doled out. I rarely gave them reason, my sister got less physical punishment because she was a girl, and my brother got the brunt because he was easily the most disobedient kid. While I don't necessarily disagree with a spanking, it's effectiveness is severely limited. My brother was so accustomed to it that it no longer bothered him. The spanking was an immediate punishment with no real aftermath, so he was free to do whatever he wanted to do after a very brief cooldown period.

The mistake my parents made in our punishments was that they lacked any psychological component or follow-up consequence. Spanking was easy and quick, a lazy punishment that really didn't correct the problem. Looking at it through an adult viewpoint, they really sucked at this.

Now, if they really wanted to punish my brother, they would have grounded him. The twin loved being outside and hanging out with his friends, which is why he was never within the neighborhood boundaries our parents set up when he was yelled for. If they had grounded him, blocked him from his social outlets, it would have absolutely destroyed him. This would have involved my parents not backing off and sticking to their guns, but the effect would have been profound on the twin I think. He'd have toed the line far more I think.

Conversely, the grounding would likely have destroyed me too, because the twin would have been pestering the $#!+ out of me who spent most my time indoors reading comic books and drawing. While I wouldn't have enjoyed it, I think I'd have lived with it to see the twin really catch it once for his misbehaving.

When I was growing up, there was a white foot locker with blue and red trim in my room. I suspect it was originally the foot locker my older brother Ron brought back from the air force, with a fancy paint job by Mom. Inside the foot locker was our family identity of sorts -- family photographs, birth certificates, marriage certificates, newspaper clippings, report cards, letters and postcards. I used to look through it all the time and every time I would find something new. I found my parents' marriage certificate, which was dated AFTER my sister's birth, so I knew they weren't hitched before. Mom tried to blow it off as a mistake of the date on the certificate, but I know better.

When Mom and Dad left the house, the twin put the foot locker in un-air conditioned storage building. When I found out, I raced over to the house to get the locker before the summer heat could destroy the family pictures, cursing my twin all the way for his stupidity. Because of the foot locker's size and weight, I bought a plastic tote and transferred everything to it.

The tote has been in my family room for years. I've slowly been organizing the photos whenever the mood strikes. Today, I decided to clean the tote out. With several accordion folders at the ready, I organized photos, school stuff, news clippings, letters, and even my old, OLD artwork. I probably could have done it in an hour, but nostalgia slows things down. I found a school photo that I don't recall. It has an odd greenish tint. My twin had one too, and I suspect that they had to retake the photos because of the color. Even after years of my repeatedly digging through these things, I'd never seen this photo.

One of the odder things I found was letters between my brother Ron and Mom from when Ron was briefly in the military. I also found letters between my mom and past family members and even an old boyfriend (pre-Dad by the date).

After several hours, I finished organizing things and the tote was empty. I have more organizing to do eventually, but they are in a smaller container and I can put the big tote to other uses. Eventually I plan on scanning everything and burning CD's or USB drives for everyone. It's a large undertaking, so it'll have to be after the holidays.

Whew! I just got home. Overall, Christmas went very well back in my hometown. I'm still a bit wiped out from jumping from house to house as I usually do, but Mom was in fairly good spirits all things considered. What really made me laugh was unwrapping presents last night at the twin's house. My 8-year-old nephew Bradyn has a really smart mouth and it gets him in trouble with his parents. He comes by it honestly as the twin's mouth was (and is) pretty much the same way. Here are the two examples that left me laughing when I shouldn't have been:

The twin was getting irritated when my nephew was acting all hyper and huffy, so he told him to sit down on the couch next him.

The twin: Sit down! You sit down right here and don't you move! (The nephew complies reluctantly)
Twin's wife: (from the kitchen) Bradyn, come in the kitchen for a minute!
Nephew: (sarcastically) Caaaannnn't!

Later, after everyone had eaten and we'd unwrapped presents, I saw my nephew had gone to the kitchen and made himself some pop tarts. I've long learned to shrug my shoulders at anything he does, so I said nothing. His mom came by a moment later and made comment.

Twin's Wife: Bradyn! Why are you eating a pop tart??
Nephew: (insert eye roll here) I'm not eating A pop tart. I'm eating TWO pop tarts!

Yeah, my twin deserves every minute of this.

Merry Christmas everyone! :)

Last night I had my weekly phone call with my mom. Among the ups and down of gloom, doom and sunshine she throws at me, she informed me that my twin and his young son were at Wally-World the other day. While walking through the aisle, my nephew saw a dorm fridge. He told his dad that he wanted it. My twin thought this was so cute that he bought it for him. When he got it home, my nephew went to the kitchen fridge, got his juice boxes, and put them in his own private fridge now humming away in his room.

"Isn't that cute?" Mom said.

"Mom, you mean that Joe bought him an $70 dorm fridge for his room? Mom, he's only four years old," I replied in a bit of astonishment.

"Oh I know, but Joe just thought it was so cute," she responded.

"Yeah... cute..," I replied, "I can't wait until he asks for a car when he's ten."

Now I've been chastised by some for casting my parental opinions before, even by my mom, especially since I'm both single AND gay. However, I'd like to think I'm entitled to an objective opinion despite the fact I've not bred. To me, the twin is caving to unrealistic demands of a child. Does he need his own personal fridge?? No, so why waste the money I'm always hearing he doesn't have. It's Joe's only kid, and he's obviously still under the new parent spell, wanting to do everything that makes his child happy. However, he needs to start using the word "No" as I fear he's slowly creating a spoiled monster.

And no, I don't think it's all that cute.

First, Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. I hope that everyone has traveled safely if they traveled and can unbutton their britches to relieve the pressure from eating way too much. I certainly know that feeling, thankfully. I've been to my hometown and back in the last two days. There have been a few fun little things happen over the days, which made it a great time.

( Cut for brevity )

And it's good to be home after three hours of driving, two of which in the pouring rain. Work tomorrow. Hopefully an easy day.

Normally for our birthday, I would recount something the twin and I did together. This past birthday I came up empty so I left it alone, but was reminded by something in the car on the way to work this morning, something I was afraid I'd forget by next year. So here it is...

( Mark, Joe & the Flatulent Granny -- Cut for the uninterested )

The Twin and the Nephew
Just to note, the photo is crooked, not the house.

While visiting Mom yesterday, the twin and my nephew Bradyn stopped by. I'm still amazed how well behaved for the most part my nephew can be. Considering the wild hellion my twin was as a kid, it just seems like he's getting off too easy in the kid department. My sister is envious, not that her's was that bad.

To keep Bradyn occupied, Mom and Joe grabbed her balls of yarn and were throwing them about her place. I managed to snap a few photos, but I liked this one best as Bradyn is about to nail me with the red one.

Later that night, I went over to Joe's house to see him and Bradyn again. It seems that the twin's young'un (hey, I'm in Corbin again... in the holler...) hasn't quite figured out that throwing soft things and hard things aren't the same. He got in a bit of trouble throwing his giant Leggo blocks at the dog.

It's fun to watch the twin learning to be a parent along with his son learning not to throw hard objects.

What can I say? I’m 32 today… and I didn’t turn it alone!

I’ve made several references in my posts regarding the "twin." I put together this quickie collage to satisfy those who have often wondered what he looks like, as you can see we’re not identical. Joe (the twin) and I do not have rhyming names, we do not dress alike (anymore) and we’re happily as opposite as night and day. We always have been, despite numerous attempts by parent and relatives to dress and influence us otherwise. Joe and I were born on this day, within three minutes of each other (I often refer to him as my former "wombmate"), and people have always expected us to be the same.

Strangely enough, Mom wasn't sure she was having twins with us. Because of the orientation of our positions in the womb, the doctor couldn't give her and Dad a sure evaluation. It was 1973, technology wasn't what it is today. According to Mom, the nurses were literally taking monetary bets on whether there were two of us or not in the delivery room. She says when Joe appeared after me, there was alot of screams because some of the nurses just made some money (and some just lost). We were also the young doctor's first set of twins he'd every delivered. He is still Mom's doctor today and reminds her of that.

When growing up, we fought more than got along, mostly because we had little in common other than family. We do much better as adults. I’ve gone through the differences for those interested parties.

( Night and Day )

Despite our differences, we do get along and I love him dearly. Even though the goofy shit called me at 12:01 AM to wish me a Happy Birthday, even after I told him not to do it. Big happy birthday to my "little” brother (aka "The Golden Child”).

Update: Revenge is sweet. I called the twin to wish him a happy birthday this morning... at 4:30 AM.