Nice To See StevieB: When I Was A Boy

By StevieB

My first car was a 1968 Ford Mustang. No. It was not brand new. I found this car in a ditch around 1991, and towed it home with the help of my brother-in-law. I spent every meager dime I had working to get that Mustang up and running. When it did run, I was always out and about in this car, with its mis-matched fenders and wonky exhaust. Around this time I also seemed attracted too, and dated older guys. I bring up this point because, now that I'm over forty I am now returning the favor and started to embrace my inner-daddy. Yet, it seems times have changed in the Daddy/boy dating world. Yes, this blog post is going to be themed "When I was a boy!"

As a gay waiter at the age of twenty-four, I met and dated guys in their late thirties. I had an apartment on my own, generally paid my own way, and had a blast in the dating world. Now, the caveat emptor of this situation may be type of guy I'm finding, meeting them mostly on Grindr. But, it seems that all the guys I have chatted with, don't own cars and still live with their parents because they just can't afford a place of their own. So, the economic atmosphere in the US is severely cramping my sex life.

Student loans, high rental rates of apartments, and the lack of jobs for new college graduates, is impeding my ability to find a nice twenty-six year old to tie up and do things. I blame the Republicans. This entered my mind as I picked up a nice guy for a date, at his parents house, the sideways glances I received were epic when his mom deducted that her and I were the same age. In an attempt to avert the awkwardness I offered that I too had a mid-term to study for, as I'm in college as well. It didn't help.

When I was a boy, I guess life was easier. I pretty much built my own car, and lived on Capital Hill in a series of run-down skeezy apartments. Now that I've found myself in the Daddy role, it appears that guys are living at home for much longer. That, or I need to change my Grindr profile to read that I'm looking for guys that have their own car. That's right, StevieB, keep those standards high. Or..... I could keep my nose out of Grindr and in my history book.

Nice To See StevieB: Panda Express

By StevieB

I spent the entire day yesterday writing my term paper. I have entitled it my Mos and po-po paper. Not realizing that I had wasted an entire day sitting at the dinning room table with nothing but the dog staring up at me, around seven p.m. my stomach decided it was time for me to stop clicking away on the keyboard and throw some food in it.

Without considering the social norms of good grooming, I grabbed the Shar-pei and headed out onto the streets for nourishment. I have a level of guilt for patronizing the new Panda Express fast food chain that has opened up recently. I have always dined at the locally owned and operated Chinese take-away, but after a day of writing in my sweat pants, I feared that Mr. Wok would assume that the zombie apocalypse had begun, and this particular zombie had a taste for Asian brains, and I would be shot in the head. One should not fear being mistaken for a zombie and shot just because one desires chinese food, but one should also take a shower and remove ten hour old Pop-Tart crumbs from one’s beard before heading out into public. So I went to Panda Express. They don’t judge.

As I did my zombie shuffle up to the “Order Here” sign, the guy behind the glass sneeze guard smiled and said “hey, we chatted on Scruff!” peering into his dreamy blue eyes and swimmers build wrapped in a fast food uniform, I recognized him as well. My stomach and other bits growled. I thought, it’s Mr. “watts up” and “your hot.” Pondering his very bad grammar, I quickly thought, who am I to judge the proper use of you’re verses your? This hot twenty-two year old wants to give me his egg rolls. Under the panda embroidered polo shirt is a six-pack that thinks I am hot. I smiled my best “How YOU Doin?” smile and ran my hand over my right pectoris muscle covered by my coffee stained tee shirt.

I then grabbed my to-go bag and retreated out of the restaurant like a defeated Mongol warrior, yet giggling like a Japanese schoolgirl. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Stonewall Fitness: Straight Skinny but Gay Fat.

By David Smith

It is no secret that sex sells, particularly in the LGBT community and especially amongst gay men. It is also no secret the standards of beauty that people tend to adopt along with kind of body image issues this kind of advertising creates.

We all want to look good, especially as a gay man I want to look good and I suffer from body image issues myself, constantly looking at my body in the mirror and not always pleased with what I see. We are always our own worst critics and that is true here too. What’s more important than how you look is how you feel. Even body builders, fitness models and athletes of all disciplines may have the sexiest and perfect body but to them that’s simply not the case.

Recently I had been going through some of my old pictures taken at Boot Camp in the Park and I found one from 2 years ago that was taken while we were practicing bicep curls. I was shirtless and I remember that day, I initially wasn’t too sure about taking my shirt off for the camera (if you know me you’re probably rolling your eyes right now) but it was so hot that I did it anyway but I was still self-conscious. When I recently looked at that picture I realized just how hot my body was at that time. If you’d ask me then however I wouldn’t have agreed with you, if I had not seen that photo I probably still wouldn’t agree with you. 

Body image isn’t always a bad thing, having standards and ideals to give us a goal to shoot for. It’s what drives us, in all aspects of our lives. Be it working hard to get promoted at your job, training for a particular sport or even studying extra hard to get a good grade in school. Training for aesthetics is really no different but like everything else there are dangers involved. Eating disorders, toxic supplements and medications, drug use and even degradation in your physical and mental health including depression, self-esteem, anxiety, self doubt. These can lead to a downward spiral that affects your entire quality of life and although you might have a nice tits and a six-pack, the rest of you is significantly lacking.

It’s all about what’s important to you and what you want to accomplish. There are many body builders and physique competitors that take their aesthetics seriously and succeed very well not only in competition but also recognizing it becomes a toxic influence on their lives.

Nice To See StevieB: Run Towards Something

By StevieB

Over dinner a friend was detailing the cycle she was in over breaking up, then getting back together with her girlfriend. This was a relationship where it seems impossible to create a solid, healthy connection, and seemed impossible to end and moving forward. It was explained as an endless cycle of mistrust and conflict. No matter how painful the situation was, it was explained that it felt safer to continue the conflict than simply committing to ending the connection. Like the idea of being single, ending a toxic relationship was simply life-ending terror. More terrifying then the endless emotional abuse, relationship rollercoaster that was over-taking her life.

This puzzled me. Like ending a relationship somehow is an indication of failure. Like having the strength to let go is less important than the perception of the outside world judging the relationship. It truly isn't a case of running away from a "good fight" it is a case of running towards a "good choice."

“You don’t need strength to let go of something. What you really need is understanding.” ~Guy Finley

We have a tendency to crave and depend on external emotional support, we get this primarily from our relationships. Then, when we need emotional support because of our relationship, we feel there is nowhere to turn. We wait and re-live the same damaging issues over and over. Somehow expecting another external means of support,  so that we don't have to be strong. This is a means of bypassing the perceived lack of inner strength to rely on someone else’s. Meanwhile our inner voice continues  to scream that it is all wrong. This starts a vicious cycle of self-abuse. Feeling to weak to change your own situation, secretly wanting someone else to fix it.  Giving the conclusion that the problems and obstacles appear to be insurmountable.

What is needed is a possibility. A vision of what life could be. That safety and happiness can grow away from the confines of the relationship. Of any relationship, and on our own terms. This leads to a simple choice. A rational decision to seek happiness, and go search of it. The fear of ending a relationship is soon replaced by a unshakeable conviction that there was something better out there, and an unwillingness to ignore that knowledge. This rarely comes form external forces, but a commitment to one's own well-being. It’s about finding clarity on what you want instead. Giving yourself a goal to go toward rather than run away.

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: Heteronormativity and Oral Care

By StevieB

Being in a same-sex relationship has it challenges. I know that was the understatement of the century. We all know that living in a hetero-centric society, when you’re not the norm is ripe with issues. Yet, is seems that most of the time being part of the GLBTQ rainbow is down-right amazing. This different view on life, makes us happy to be unique. When asked about her struggles in life, Carrie Fisher stated "Find your tribe. Don’t wander around feeling different than everyone else.” This speaks to beginning a relationship with someone. The romantic path seems to be the same for everyone. Yet, in a society that sometimes unknowingly gives easier steps to male-female stereotyped relationships feeling different is sometimes hard to avoid.

I thought about all this as I stood in the oral care isle of my local grocery store. I was getting to the step of buying a toothbrush for my Sweet Baboo. If you have never been in love before, this is a critical step in mating. You wake up at the other person’s house and discover that they have gone out and purchased a new toothbrush for you. It means that they think you’ll be sticking around. It symbolizes a bond; a next step in the dating world. I was ready to make this plunge and declare my deep “like” by presenting him is his very own toothbrush. It was a huge step, and I was nervous.

This is when I noticed how toothbrush manufactures were a bunch of heteronormative jerks. Jerks I say. Every two pack of toothbrushes had a perceived masculine color and perceived feminine color. Oral-B- Purple and green, Colgate- blue and pink, even Reach had only blue and pink. It was a straight couple toothbrush conspiracy. From standard to electric brushes, if you wanted to save money and by a two pack, you were forced into hetero-centric roles. Sure, it’s easy to buy to separate blue toothbrushes, but it’s the point of having to buy two separate toothbrushes. To cram them together, like your just like everyone else. Straight couples don’t have to buy separate packaging. They don’t have to decide who gets the blue brush. What? One of use should be forced to decide to take the pink brush role?!?! Outrageous.

Being in a same-sex relationship truly does have challenges. But, I refuse to wander through the grocery store feeling different than everyone else. Carrie Fisher wouldn’t want me to do that. For now, my same-sex partner and I have separate packaged toothbrushes. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: I knew His Smile in an Instant

By StevieB

Atlanta was a great trip. It is funny how Patrick’s friendship just continues online and offline without missing a beat. Not physically seeing Patrick since our cruise, over a year ago, we simply just picked up where we left off. He was a great host. The excuse for the visit was for Atlanta’s Pride celebration. Understanding the heat of Atlanta’s summers I understand how they began to throw the weekend celebration in October.

The first night was a kick-off party as the Atlanta Aquarium. A huge party thrown around the world-class aquariums and tanks. Patrick and I literally partied with Otters. A long list of Atlanta’s best diners, and dives followed over the weekend. Topped off by the main Pride Parade on Sunday. As Patrick, his large and very nice group of friends, and I settled into a safe spot to watch the parade; I quickly become bored. Patrick suggested we sit on the near-by Italian restaurant’s patio. We snuck away from the jubilant friends and ordered a little lunch, alfresco.

At this point in my story, I need to mention that anytime I am awake my head is buried in my phone. This trip, I was constantly texting the same cute boy I had been seeing in back home. All through the Aquarium, the diners, and the parade I was texting him non-stop. It’s actually quite disgusting. I mimic a fourteen-year old girl. As we slipped away from the parade front, I sent a selfie to the same cute boy, giving him a literal picture of the mayhem we were about to escape. I casually let him know Patrick and I were going to grab food. The boy too, was away from home. In Connecticut for a week at a family wedding. We chatted non-stop about our separate adventures. I had been secretly bummed that he couldn’t join my adventure in Atlanta. But, at least we could text.

I relished the Sunday afternoon. Sitting with one of my dearest friends, soaking up the day with a great person. We still had a great view of the parade as it crossed over Piedmont St. About half a block away, it was great to see, but not get too involved. It was also just enough space to cruise for cute boys. And, Atlanta has no shortage in amazingly cute boys. Patrick and I had all the time in the world to watch them wander by. As my gaze roamed the sea of Atlanta cuteness, one super-cute guy caught my eye. Slim. Muscular. Flowing curly locks of hair. Tall. The sun bounced and danced upon his light caramel skin. But…. Suddenly I became that 70’s Pina Colada Song. I knew his smile in an instant, I knew the curve of his face. It was my own lovely boy…. I sprung from the table alarming Patrick and our group of dinning friends. The boy I had been obsessing over, the one in Connecticut. Just wandered by. Of, course his head was down, texting me. He was causally asking me what the name of the restaurant I had mentioned.

I ran through the crowed, I began to doubt whether I actually saw him at all.

Then, I stopped running. There he was. The most beautiful boy ever. The crowed stopped moving, the drag queen, upon the nearby float frozen in time. Glitter held its place in midair. The very movement of blood within my heart stopped. Nothing existed. Reality faded into a grey blur on the edges of space between my trembling hands and him. The curve of his face. I threw my arms around him and squeezed. The glitter began to fly again. The waving drag queen upon her float slowly came back up to speed.
The boy had ducked out of the wedding in Connecticut and flew down to surprise me. Following my clues of selfies and unknowingly cryptic texts. The most romantic thing anyone has ever done. Me and my boy. We watched the remainder of the parade. Intertwined. 
 
This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice to See StevieB: Got A Long List of Ex-Lovers

By StevieB

Apparently, it was ex-boyfriend week here around the old Stevie B blog. This is the time when all of Steve's ex-boyfriends contact Steve, just to ensure he is still alive.

The US Swim team, Olympic swimmer was in contact. Yes, he's happy with the fellow hottie he left me for, just fighting with him this week, and wanted to say "Hi!" to me.

The skinny-ginger from Colorado State University, drunk-texted me in the middle of the night to re-declare his love for me. If you remember, he was the one I woke up to one morning, staring at me, stating that if he can't get a monogamous commitment he was out. I'm sure you know my answer. He grabbed his Express Tote Bag, and ran. Jim Beam had apparently convinced him otherwise.

Next was the muscled Lebanese, University of Colorado Volleyball player. He just let me know that he's going to study in Prague. That being petrified of his hotness, and thus avoiding him, probably was not the best technic in flirting.

The blonde from Colorado School of Mines, just mis-dialed me, thinking it was his Professor Steve, not the creepy 43 year old that sodomized him in his Jeep Liberty.

Then, there was the big Ex. He was in contact to announce that he is officially a Realtor, with his own agency. I couldn't tell if is was a general announcement, or a sales pitch. Either way, I believe it's a great idea to have your Ex, help buy a house.... sure. He then invited me to a Fetish Party he was hosting. Also a great idea to attend a play party hosted by your still somewhat questionably hostile Ex... sure.

Well... that was my week. My tattered ego and I are glad it is over. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice to See StevieB: Haters Gonna Hate, Hate, Hate

By StevieB

Grindr can be a fickle little app. If you don't utilize the hook-app known as Grindr, I'll explain it to you in the briefest terms I know. It is like Christian Mingle on your phone. But, for Homosexuals with anything but Christian acts in mind. It is best utilized as a homing device; as the phone app has a proximity alert built into the app. This takes your location and broadcasts it to other homosexuals on the app.  The easiest way to locate your closest gay.

It; however, has been over-wrought lately with spammers. These are fake profiles attempting to get you to give your phone number for their diabolical use. Canned sentences are given in hopes that you respond, all to say "hey, let's text? What is your number?" I, with apparently too much free time started to give the Focus on the Family main telephone number. This got boring fast. Then I did this...

Every spammer got lyrics to John Cash's Folsom Prison Blues.  I got through the entire song before this one asked for my phone number. I'm sure the reception desk of the anti-gay, faux-Christian Lobbing group,  Focus on The Family, is swarmed with telemarketer calls right now.

I  also changed my profile to state that I would not respond to any Chat Requests unless a code word was given.  Any line from any Taylor Swift song. What happened actually was quite funny..

Some guys really got into it...

It was kind of amazing how many guys just wanted to give me a Taylor Swift line.

 Others.... not so much.

Then there was the perfect response...

So if you are ever on Grindr, hit me up. But, only if you like Taylor Swift. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: Thank You

By StevieB

I started blogging on Sunday, November 11, 2007. My first entry was written from a place of closing a door. A process of saying goodbye to my partner of four years. It was the beginning of growth for me, shared with the world via a tiny spec on a blogger platform in a tiny spec of the internet. I blogged ever since.

As part of this growth, I began to blog about meeting a new guy, the dating, and the building of a relationship. Fuzzy was written about as our relationship grew, faced challenges, and surpassed milestones. I blogged about being part of a larger whole.

I have not blogged lately about that larger whole. I felt it too painful to blog. The first time in eight years I held back from you, the reader. For this I do apologize. The process of dismantling a relationship is difficult, at best…

I feel like I am back to 2007, writing to you about the process of closing a door. I must begin the process of saying goodbye to my partner of eight years. I step forward to accept the beginning of growth. I start by saying thank you, thank you Fuzzy for many years… For the good, and surprisingly enough the bad. Thank you for it all. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: And Baby Makes Three

By StevieB

I am currently conducting a research study, with my dating habits as of late. And, I am learning a lot. After I turned forty years old, I started to date guys in their twenties. I honestly believed there were no differences in guys my age and gay men in their twenties. I went through this twenty year old phase in my life, and I thought that since I was once twenty, I would understand. I am here to report that I am dead wrong.

There seems to be is a magical age when guys are old enough that they're bored with the hookup scene and interested in relationships, yet haven't reached the point where they're bored with relationships, and just want to hook up. This has nothing to do with chronological age. It has more to do with when the individual comes out. The key to finding any guy is to find one on the same pendulum swing as you. This hasn’t changed since I was posting ads on the back pages of Denver’s Outfront Newspaper. Yes, before the interwebs, we had to post ads in the singles column of our gay newspapers. Chiseled into stone tablets, if I remember.

It appears that younger guys pendulums swing faster these days. Kids, I tells ya. When I do sit down on a date I have a series of questions I like to ask. Yeah, know, after the “do your parents know where you are?”question. The clearest one is, “Are you attracted to older guys on a personal level, or physical level?” This shows me whether there’s a Daddy fetish going on, or if it’s a maturity compatibility thing. When I was twenty I hated interacting with other twenty year olds, I preferred having a conversion with people over forty. The other questions are “Do you know who Matthew Shepard, and Larry Kramer are? Have you seen the film, Paris is Burning?” The answers are surprising. Is it wrong to give a homework assignment after the first date? I think no.

There is; however, something new, other than the fact that no gay man under the age of twenty-six would ever have a Facebook account. The guys I have dated as of late, are now thinking love and marriage. And children. It seems that generation next, have the freedom and acceptance to be able to dream of settling down and raising a family. This truly is - a different time, my friends. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: Travel Time

By StevieB

Have you had a dating relationship with someone from another city? The typical long distance relationship. I wonder how this style of relationship works, the actual mechanics of attempting to establish closeness when the other person lives in another town. I have, of late, attempted to pursue this style of relationship. Trust me, it is harder than it looks.

As I have grown older my tough-guy, no hugging, "I need my space" policy has worn away. The idea of having a boyfriend whom lived a plane ride, or even a car ride away seemed perfect for my younger self. To see and date on a regular, yet infrequent timetable. I am finding lately that I have unknowingly changed this demeanor. The ginger-swimmer from last fall lived almost two hours away, the Spaniard before him lived in San Francisco. Now, I am finding that a relationship is the little things. The stupid stuff we do together when there is not a time crunch. Dating is not the hot sex. It is the hot sex followed by wandering around the supermarket together, afterward in search of food. Maybe grabbing coffee and just wasting away a morning. Together.

I would never shoot down a hot boy that actually wanted to take on the bag of neurotic strangeness that is me, just because he lives an hour north of my town, it is not a deal breaker. It just seems I am scratching my head at the extra time it takes to build that level of closeness when time is so limited.

Nice To See StevieB: The Name Game

By StevieB

Could date a person with the same name as you? It is an odd question that truly applies to LGBT people. Could you date a guy or a girl with the same name. If I was chatting up a guy named Steve, I'm unsure how I would feel. Yes, there's the lame joke about screaming out your own name during sex, but seriously? I think I would really have mixed feelings whether I could ask out a guy named Steve.

What about dating? Would we be known as "The Steves?" Like when inviting people over to a fabulous dinner party one host would turn to their partner and ask, "Should we invite The Steves?" Or, when you are living together, a telemarketer calls and asks to speak to Steve. I've know Kathy and Kathie, like the "y" changes things. I've known a Jim and a Jimbo, and a Mike whose handsome life partner was Mic. I really am curious how these couples know what Christmas stocking to grab on Christmas morning. How narcissistic would it be to stand around at work on Monday morning talking about how much fun you had with Sue. "Sue is soooo great at rock climbing. Sue is such a great cook, Saturday Sue made Spaghetti alla Carbonara."

What about dating a person with your Dad or Mom's name? Do you really want to quietly whisper your Dad's name into the ear of someone who passed out on top of you after hours of sweaty sex? My Dad's first name is Wilbur , so.... no trouble with that. I've never chatted up that hot bro leaning against the bar to find out his name is Wilbur. Would it be okay to be sitting at Thanksgiving and telling the family your new partner is also named Linda. "Linda and I are really romantically compatible."

Is it a deal breaker?

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice to See StevieB: The Second Date

By StevieB

I am getting amazingly talented at first dates. A second date; however, is seeming to be an elusive near impossible act for me to obtain. That is to say, that I can take a guy out to dinner, act like a gentleman, talk for hours, and at the end of the date really feel a connection. Yet, even with plans made; date number two simply never comes to pass.

Last week I sat at a coffee shop and made a great connection with an amazingly hot and funny guy. Both were the youngest of a huge Mormon family, both had Texas roots, both of us were seeking what, I thought, were clear and honest ideas. In a strange twist we ended up playing together and were very compatible. Then came the discussion of the elusive date number two... He instigated the endeavor. As I have decided to let the other party involved set the tone for this act. He set the date and time. I was to pick him up at this house.... I showed up at the arranged time and place.... Nothing.
Just me on a strange doorstep, ringing a doorbell. A text was then sent to me stating that he couldn't go out. Date two ended before it started with me texting my BFF, Mike declaring I hated boys.

Another recent turn in my dating life was when my excitement crescendo[ed] upon making plans at the end of date one, to spend date two seeing an IMAX movie. No one ever has ever wanted to go see IMAX movie with me before. So I got all excited. An actual real-life boy wanted to sit with me in 3-D glasses and watch the discovery of Space Junk or Amazonian Trees. In 3-D IMAX coolness. I felt just like when I was five and anticipated getting stuffed Ernie and Bert dolls for Christmas. Christmas found me without Ernie, or Bert. The thought of my second date drought didn't even enter my head. After all we definite plans. I sent a text to confirm, only to receive a text hours later that they found something better to do. When asking the boy where my adult version of Ernie and Bert Christmas presents were, I was told not to be "a dick about it." Funny, that is what my Mom said on Christmas morning.

I present this strange phenomenon to you not as a problem. Just the opposite really. A humorous observation on dating life. I am un-second-dateble. Some day, I will get that obscure date number two... some day.

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: Petting the Wildlife

By StevieB
 
Flirting for awhile, I finally got the invite. That invite. The one that says it is time to limber up, stretch the hamstrings before heading over. Don't want to pull a hammy, you know. Sexy underwear; check. Tight shirt; check. Teeth brushed; check. He opened the apartment door and the hottest guy I ever imagined stood before me. Smooth Jazz began to play softly in background. A soft glow about his face. He might as well of been holding a fuzzy bunny-wabbit in one hand, and new Jeep high output air intake system in the other.

He grabbed my hand and yanked inside. "Come spank me!" He said. "Finally, I get my Birthday wish!" I said out loud.

Shirts and jeans flew everywhere. And as the real excitement started a door slammed. "Shit! My roommates!" He jumped to his feet and listened like a Impala in the wild. Cranking his head to hear any movement from the living room. He slowly closed his bedroom door. "I thought it was okay with your roommates to have guys over" I calmly asked. "Yeah... but you're older... they'd ask who you were." As I grabbed for my shirt I watched the sexiest Impala I ever got to pet, squeeze into his skinny jeans. You think Ashton Kutcher had to sneak Demi Moore past his roommates?

Dressing quickly I thought of what could of been, the heat. The passion. The cuddling after. One quick kiss at the door and I was handed my hat. I wandered
out into the midday sun. Still dizzy from what just happened, the smell of his hard body and expensive cologne covering me. 

This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: When I Was A Boy

By StevieB
 
My first car was a 1968 Ford Mustang. No. It was not brand new. I found this car in a ditch around 1991, and towed it home with the help of my brother-in-law. I spent every meager dime I had working to get that Mustang up and running. When it did run, I was always out and about in this car, with its mis-matched fenders and wonky exhaust. Around this time I also seemed attracted too, and dated older guys. I bring up this point because, now that I'm over forty I am now returning the favor and started to embrace my inner-daddy. Yet, it seems times have changed in the Daddy/boy dating world. Yes, this blog post is going to be themed "When I was a boy!"

As a gay waiter at the age of twenty-four, I met and dated guys in their late thirties. I had an apartment on my own, generally paid my own way, and had a blast in the dating world. Now, the caveat emptor of this situation may be type of guy I'm finding, meeting them mostly on Grindr. But, it seems that all the guys I have chatted with, don't own cars and still live with their parents because they just can't afford a place of their own. So, the economic atmosphere in the US is severely cramping my sex life.

Student loans, high rental rates of apartments, and the lack of jobs for new college graduates, is impeding my ability to find a nice twenty-six year old to tie up and do things. I blame the Republicans. This entered my mind as I picked up a nice guy for a date, at his parents house, the sideways glances I received were epic when his mom deducted that her and I were the same age. In an attempt to avert the awkwardness I offered that I too had a mid-term to study for, as I'm in college as well. It didn't help.

When I was a boy, I guess life was easier. I pretty much built my own car, and lived on Capital Hill in a series of run-down skeezy apartments. Now that I've found myself in the Daddy role, it appears that guys are living at home for much longer. That, or I need to change my Grindr profile to read that I'm looking for guys that have their own car. That's right, StevieB, keep those standards high. Or..... I could keep my nose out of Grindr and in my history book.
 
This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Nice To See StevieB: Waiting In The Concourse

By StevieB

The issue with dating again, if there is just one issue, is the complex dance of ritual required. These movements to attract just the right individual; this being a complete painfully long blog post of its own, just to begin the hallowed and celebrated rites of gay mating.

First off, is the sorting of the guys pinging you on Grindr. Are they coming in for a hard landing on the trick tarmac, or deplaning into the potential dateable concourse. That was a horrible analogy; let's forget I attempted to compare dating to air travel. But... they both require a whole body scan to look for foreign substances, and there's the joy of having your luggage searched by a stranger wearing rubber gloves. They both have very long lines, sometimes delayed for hours before take off. And, they both have the distinct possibility of falling from the sky in a mangled mass of bloody flesh and twisted steel.

Yet, my argument does hold merit. That a lot of energy is expelled in the messaging back and forth. On the positive side, I can easily sort out the around five-thousand guys who have the "NSA, right now" philosophy. Not because I object with the philosophy, it's just that Daddy has stuff to do, and my day is too planned out to drop everything and meet up with a blonde with shows me his bunnywabbit pink anus. As I write this, I have five hundred words due on the Arab-Byzantine wars, I don't have a free moment to bring Nasty home for a holiday. Also, I'm an old fashioned girl.

That being said, the planned outings are very nice. Getting a new shirt, freshening up the haircut, putting a new layer of Just For Men in the beard. And.... in case you're listening to other bloggers out of the streets, my beard looks completely natural when it's dyed. I asked my Mother and my Pastor, and out of anyone they wouldn't lie to me. With all that being said, I'm VERY new to the whole dating thing. The last "first date" I had, occurred on the same day that the first iPhone was launched, June 29, 2007. I am, and the world, is a different place in the years that have passed, We're on the verge of iPhone 6, and Steve 4S. It doesn't help that the few guys I've had this strange "first date" experience with were seventeen when the iPhone launched. Yet, it seems they have been out on more dates.

It's a strange gay dating world out there in Denver, Co. Yet, I plan on diving into the dating pool.
 
This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.

Tranifesto: Can a Gay Man Love a Trans Woman?

By Matt Kailey

A reader writes: “I am a gay man and have no doubts really about that. I was late in coming out after being married and having children. However, 15 months ago I started a relationship with a guy who I had met several years earlier and who also was previously married with children.

“After we had been dating for six or seven months, he started to talk about how he really liked dressing as a girl and felt he should have been born a girl. I did know he was always quite fem and liked fem things and that was part of my attraction to him.

“Well, now he is well into transition to her, including name change and hormone treatments, and is fully out to family and work. I have supported this transition because I loved/love him/her and know that it was making her happy and it was what she wanted.

“Now, though, I am having a real problem in my head as to how can it be that a gay guy is still fancying a girl. Is it an identity issue? What is going on in my mind? Can this relationship continue?

Valentine's Gay: Sex Shop Cinema

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Valentine's Gay: Romance in the Rockies & Valentine’s Week in Gunnison-Crested Butte

Couples and singles looking for romance can find it during Valentine’s week and throughout the winter in the Gunnison-Crested Butte Valley.  With Valentine’s Day falling on a Friday and adjacent to President’s Day Weekend, there is plenty of opportunity to enjoy a long, romantic weekend in the Colorado Rockies.

Matt Kailey on HuffPost Live This Afternoon

Award-winning author, blogger, teacher, and close personal friend Matt Kailey will appear on HuffPost Live: Meet the Gay Men Who Date Transmen this afternoon at 3:30pm (give or take a few minutes due to the live nature of the broadcast).

Joining Matt will be cartoonist Bill Roundy, author Elliot DeLine, and sex and relationship therapist Dr. Joe Kort. They will discuss the ins, outs, and “coming outs” of gay non-trans men dating gay trans men.

Kailey is author of Just Add Hormones: An Insider’s Guide to the Transsexual Experience and Teeny Weenies and Other Short Subjects and a frequent contributor to MileHighGayGuy. His award-winning blog, Tranifesto, celebrates five years in 2014.