Bootblack Pride

On a blog I was reading I saw a quiz for “What Kind of Boots Are You” and decided to invest the time to find out that it thought I was combat boots. Now, there’s nothing wrong with them, but they aren’t me. I’m not western boots or jack boots — though I’ve owned and worn both. I love a good pair of hiking boots in the summer, but I’m a pair of engineer’s/harness boots. I love them. I wear them, and I put up a picture of mine (along with one of my whips) to demonstrate that the quiz was flawed. I noticed that my boots needed the attentions of a good boot black. They need to be buffed and polished and have some sole-black taken to them.

I realize that a professional shoe shine guy can take care of them quite well — and replace the heels while he’s at it, but a guy with a boot shining fetish would be a better deal. There are competitions for bootblacks, and as evidenced above there is a Bootblack Pride Flag. So while my fetish isn’t shining a Sir’s boots (being a Sir myself), I have no problems letting a guy given the a fine matt finish and dressing. Let’s hear it for the boys! 

My Boots.

Never Grow Old. Never Die. It’s Fun to be a Vampire.

“Your sister’s a suck monkey,” Edgar Frog declares with a vengeance put to use. I’m captivated and keep rewinding. That can only mean one thing: Jack is home from work on a Thursday and has found the sequel to one of his favorite movies. Lost Boys: The Tribe releases to video in July. There are trailers available on IMDb (http://www.imdb.com/video/screenplay/vi4237492505/), and it’s available through Netflix. Now I just have to find the soundtrack and a t-shirt for the new one.

Let’s face it, the Pagan Leather Bear is also a 43 year old Goth — of the Reform Order. My favorite color is black (combined with blue for my favorite color combination). I’m perfectly comfortable in graveyards and crypts. Jack Skellington is my hero. My home boasts gargoyles, dragons, and skulls — tastefully placed of course and not in excess. I prefer the Addams Family to the Brady Bunch any day.

The Lily Prince is a sub with a penchant for Goth and a taste for Noir. His sensibilities run to black leather and red silk. He’s on my left and a pace behind as we descend the stairs for a Munch. Like me, he anticipates Samhain (and the Feast of All Saints). While he longs for walks through the Court come December (with the obligatory stop at the place on the corner), he’s quite comfortable at Shakespeare in Central Park on hot summer evenings or sitting in khaki shorts on the velvet seats of the Palace for the movie fest. A seat at bar for a mead and a bison burger at our favorite third place or the white linen of the posh place are equally comfortable to us.  And yeah, the carpet matches the drapes, and the sub is all Twink and Kink. 

Somehow I went from the sequel to the sub and in the process finished the homework assignment Bebe handed out last week across the red felt. Sic transit gloria mundi.

Bands Announced (Jack’s Way)

I’m finishing up the last details of my order of the leather Pride biceps band. I’ve seen pictures of it, and I’ll put one up as soon as it arrives and I can use my own arm. I’m like a child on Christmas Eve. I see myself running to the mailbox everyday in order to see if it’s arrived. Honestly, this is almost as wondrous as getting a tattoo. I said almost.

Twinks, and Clones, and Bears

Hoist up your Rainbow Flag. Get the Pride Tree out of storage. Cue the Judy Garland (June 10, 1922 – June 22, 1969) music. It’s officially Pride Month in the Derby City. The Supreme Festival of Gaydom is nearly here! Some cities, like KC, began a little early, and Friday night I saw a hot little Twink in a Rainbow Tartan kilt. Hopefully no one has his glow sticks confiscated.

Coveting Ink

I’m at the gym this afternoon, and as I’m coming up to the cable machine, I noticed my calves in the mirror. I’m completely out of balance — as far as ink goes. So I’m toying with, in the not overly distant future, getting a tribal wolf done over the kanji on my left calf. I’m looking on line now, and I’ve found something I’m interested in. The kangi means dragon, and was always really intended to have a wolf (in some form or fashion) put with it. Some guys are into sleeves. I’m into…whatever name you choose to put on it.

Folsom & Dore

 

‘Degredation is the subtlest drug, the most insinuating.’

Angela Carter,
The Passion of New Eve

Friday evening I was in a meeting and tried on several occasions to find a good word that covered my world. One person suggested simply calling it “Jack’s World,” and while I’m egotistical enough to like it, I also know that it won’t work. Jack’s World might be Shangrila for many people, but it isn’t an all inclusive land. It might be right for you, and I respect and honour that, but it’s not right for me, and therefore not part of my world. BDSM is my preferred term, but it has a narrow scope as well. Even though it’s hackneyed to a degree, I kept coming back to kink as my default. I want something freshly flavorful — like Nueve York. Something that people will understand without having it explained to them.

There’s a concern in the gay community about what to call the other person in your life. Gay men often reject Husband because it’s a het term and because people think that if he’s the husband you’re the wife. I’ve written recently about my change to sub instead of boyfriend (a term I find despicable for anyone of drinking age). He would call me his Dom, by-the-bye. Maybe an inability to find a label means that I should stop trying. After all, I don’t like the idea of putting people into little boxes and making them stay put — puppy crates excepted.

Maybe that’s also why there’s a plethora of flags: Pony Pride, Leather Girl,  Bisexual, Ownership, International Bear Brotherhood, Leather Boy, Bootblack, Transgender, Heterosexual, Puppy, and (my favorite) Leather Pride. The list does go on. The one thing they all have in common is that they show a diversity of sexuality and interest. My kink might be past your extreme. That’s fine as long as you understand that what’s over the top for you might be pretty vanilla for me. In all honestly, I don’t get some things I know people do. It’s not my place to. My role is to be who I am, keep my sub in his place, and respect that everyone is different.

So I’ll use whatever term comes to mind first with the hope that people will understand what I mean — or will ask for clarification. Masters and puppies, Doms and subs, you are all welcome in Jack’s World where respect — even in degradation — is the law of the land.