Today’s Gallery Theme: Two’s Company…
‘So’, says this guy to me yesterday morning: ‘So you crush you son between two beds of nails, bury him in broken glass before trampling on him, and he does around five hours of fitness and acrobatic training every day. “Tiger dad”, huh?’
Actually, no. This guy has seen us on TV, by the way, and it was said half in jest. ‘Actually,’ I replied, ‘You should just try to stop him!’ This from a not-unfriendly guy whose kids spend all their waking hours staring at screens and pushing buttons. Which is best? Well, he had just brought his daughter to the gymnastics center for a tryout session, so I think there is hope!
Before someone calls ‘child protection’, I’ll also point out that my son has concrete blocks smashed on his stomach and has pointed knives dropped there too. Just for the charge sheet, officer… And, of course, he has previously and will continue to work professionally as a circus performer. Properly trained and fully insured!
So – ‘tiger dad’? No. A proper tiger dad (or mom) would be forcing him to do twelve hours of violin practice a day and learn mandarin… whilst working on the next development of the theory of relativity. Not for Leo, and not for me either.
But we all do stupid things. Like last night. 15 years ago, in a brief period of late-teen madness, we (that’s me, my partner Dave and our close gay friends) did a few things we probably shouldn’t have. Fortunately, apart from what I wrote in the books [Loving the Boy, The Power of Love, and, later, Against All Odds], the video evidence has been deleted! But, as ‘middle-aged men who should know better’ (as my mother would put it now that we are in our thirties), we do occasionally revert to type (without son Leo or Dave’s daughter in tow!!). Old friends Cody and Adge entertain mysterious parties of ‘more-than-middle-aged gay men who don’t know better’ in their basement of “fun” (that’s S & M then) and just occasionally ask for help. An opportunity to preview some of our new acrobatic stuff (plus nails and glass of course) which Dave and I with Pete and Zach are working up for the summer circus stint, followed by some exhibition wrestling (in oil) and, later, letting them tie us up for a short while just to get the rest of the playmates in the mood to work out their fetishes on each other. Hmmm.
(Mud’s fun too, but oil works better in Cody’s little “theatre barn” and, in those circumstances, who needs shorts?)
So I spent a while tied to Zach – feet on each other’s faces, a few more strings attached… Cody applying a little punishment here and there, a bit of “gay relief” and then on our way, leaving the punters to a night of pain and pleasure. They pay Cody well, and he paid us.
Quick swim in the moonlight in the Clinch River to wind ourselves down, then home to find Leo entertaining his current girlfriend in his basement lair, half naked (both) doing leg lifts on his wall bars. Yes, Karla is an acrobat too… and, in all other respects, Leo is a standard red-blooded heterosexual male, aided and abetted by his friend Chris’s designs on Dave’s daughter Jaymee. A sort of acrobatic love quadrangle. Weird, but there you go.
I constantly feel surprise that there is any gay scene in rural Tennessee, let alone a ‘secret’ fetish hideaway in the woods. I think that Cody bribes his regular bus driver to keep the location hidden. But there’s plenty of other weirdness here… TN republicans are set, on ‘Super Tuesday’, to endorse Donald Trump as their choice of presidential candidate. This maniac actually could end up in the White House, and his first act would probably be to declare war on ISIS and Russia and start World War 3. How people can bring themselves to vote for any of the weird and wonderful people who buy their way into presidential nominations in this country never ceases to amaze me.
So it could be that we are not seriously weirder than others: merely just weird in a different way. Let’s hope so. And we may ‘grow up’ eventually and start behaving like those ‘middle-aged men’ my mother speaks of.
Anyway, we just enjoyed a traditional British Sunday lunch courtesy of the lovely mums of our kids (they are full-blooded American lesbians but appreciate good food too). Which reminded me that Brits like me continue to be just as weird back home. Just one sample: a snippet from the on-line edition of my favourite newspaper, The Times of London:
“Police in Paignton [south-west England] safely brought a siege on a house to an end, and arrested a man for assaulting a woman and damaging an old biscuit tin…’
It’s comforting to know that serious crime is still well policed back home!
Here’s a wrestle match that has clearly ended in defeat for the wine-and-yellow trunks:
More partner ‘fun’ now: you form amazing bonds with regular training partners, whether it be looking after each other’s aches and strains…
…or just comparing progress and giving each other encouragement!
Always time for fun, of course, after a workout on the bar:
Developing those skills for a show…
…and finally, for the gay amongst us, ‘Two’s Company’ has that special meaning: