A Queer and Meaningless Bark

When I was in my teens I used to scour the library for gay themed books in the hopes there would be some sex scenes in them. The stories of struggle with personal and public identity meant nothing to me. The  handful of books I ran across often had characters I didn't identify with other than the fact that they were guys who were into guys. One exception was The Best Little Boy in the World an autobiography by John Reid (a pen name for Andrew Tobias ) because the guy telling the story was just a guy. He didn't even kiss other guys because "Cowboys don't kiss." By the end of my teens I took some other looks at gay culture beyond porn. When I was in Seattle I checked out the Seattle Gay News and some gay lifestyle magazines. But I still didn't see guys I had anything in common with or a culture that appealed to many beyond the fact that guys could hook up with guys. Back then finding others I connected with because of my sexuality really wasn't a big

My high school friend-with-benefits Nate was pretty successful at fooling around with a lot of other high school guys. I'd guess in the cold light of day some of those guys regretted the fooling around, that's not uncommon during the adolescent “experimentation” phase. I doubt any of them ever said anything about it to anyone or even joked with their friends about "gay Nate." Nate had a good sense for the guys who wouldn't care who was sucking their dicks and the guys who might have more than a little curiosity about dicks themselves. The guys in the first category would be the types who wouldn't think anything of the experience once they came. Guys in the second category would be extremely cautious about drawing attention to their sexuality. Tossing accusatory words and names towards a guy you had some traceable connection to could mean attention might focus on you. “Hey! He's a fag...And you used to go swim in his pool with him