For a number of reasons, I wasn’t able to make the trek to Fog City for Folsom this year. I’ll think of it often and my Spirit will certainly be there. I might just need to make the travel arrangements early next year — like February. That should ensure I won’t be sitting in Falls City with my heart in San Francisco.
And the thing is, my boots really need the tender attentions of a dedicated — and hopefully uncollared — bootblack who will give them the love, attention, and matte finish they deserve. He can give the soles a good shine, make sure the 0-rings on the straps have that fine, nickle shine to them…Okay, before I start into a fantasy from which I won’t easily recover, I’ll change the subject — sort of.
The thing I’ve always found at leather events, is that you’re accepted for who you are — well inked bear who’s into much kink or pretty vanilla twink. That doesn’t mean that everyone there desires you — or you everyone else. It simply means accepted for who and what you are. “She’s a bisexual dominatrix, vegan, ex-nun from the Bronx, and he’s a gay muscle Dom — complete bottom sexually though.” It’s all good.
And as I often am wont to do, I wonder why the rest of the world can’t learn these lessons. “So what if they do,” should be everyone’s point of view.
I know there are some who would find this sort of sexual outlet degrading to some set or other. But in BDSM circles, that just isn’t the case. The participants are all more than willing players in the scene. Respect by all for all is generally a given, and all are welcome at the feast.
I learned the pleasures of hot candle-wax on bare skin as a fairly young child — thanks to the Catholic Church I might add. The pleasures of the flesh as presented by Touko Laaksonen, better known as Tom of Finland, came later. The brutal masculinity, the leather, and the blatant sexuality were enough make me a fan for life. They taught me not only of the joys of male homosexuality but also of bondage, leather, submission. Tom taught me that I could be masculine and gay. 
