So I've been on sabbatical for the last 6 months or so and honestly it's been amazing. I'm very centered and happy and have been busier now than I was before. not sure how that works but it's how it is.
So anyway, I've gotten into doing short films and filming some of my friends who do drag. If you are interested go check out my YouTube channel at Christopher Scott's YouTube.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Monday, August 20, 2007
Monday, July 16, 2007
GMWAOAMTAIMAANICR
I've put some thoughts together on it all. We as Gay men have a limited population of other Gay men to choose a prospective partner/boyfriend/companion-for-the-evenBUT... what about those guys who are already married, partnered, or otherwise in a committed relationship? Luckily that's a fairly low percentage to whittle off of the total - say 30% . So 70% ending in the percentage of Gay-men-who-are-out-are-my-type-are-into-m
So with the male population of the US being 150M or so and GMWAOAMTAIMAANICR at .000245 the target population is now approximately 36,750 men in the entire US. Seems pretty good right? Well, I would really like to date a local guy. Lucky for me I live in Atlanta. So... Atlanta = 5M people so 2.5M men. .000245 of this number is 612.5 guys.
Wow, I'm excited! 612.5 Gay-men-who-are-out-are-my-type-and-are-i
This 612 guy population here in Atlanta is cool in terms of hooking up and stuff. But not all of those guys want to hook up and honestly I don't always want to hook up. How many of these guys want a relationship? Or to date? Do I want these things?
So okay, my percentage of possible prospects is at this point just .0035. So I select a cute guy, one from my population, sitting near the bar - What are the chances he's into me? My experience shows that only about 10% of the twenty-something population is into "older guys" - a title I carry proudly. So my percent of Gay-men-who-are-out-are-my-type-and-are-i
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Something about me
I’m 41 years old. Well, 42 this summer but as a gay man I’m holding onto 41 as long as possible. Or was that 24? Yes, 24. What an amazing age that seems to be.
I don’t remember much of 24 anymore and it’s not from some early form of senility, though some might argue otherwise. It seems more from the fact that 24 is not just 18, um 17 years ago but a whole life away. A straight life; a life with a wife, two daughters, a dog, a cat, some gold fish, car payments, a mortgage, and working the 9 to 5 in not so shinny black dress shoes and all too often a tie.
I was never truly that person. It was the expected thing. It was the normal thing. It was safe.
Safe. So much focus there for me; perhaps for us all. It was 1974 when I discovered my sexuality and fully nine years later before I accepted it internally. 1983, Fag, Gay-Cancer, AIDS, Expectations. There was a lot to feel safe about deeply stowed away behind my white picket fence and my two weeks of summer vacation.
The early 80’s and it’s realization that AIDS was real, here, and not going away was a scary time for many – unless you were straight. Oh, and not a heroin addict. Well, I hated needles anyway, how hard is it to set aside this inner self. This anomaly of life; I’m sure all men feel this way, have this attraction. Right? It natural. You’re okay, you’re straight; safe – I’m safe.
Safe. I hate that word now. I want to jump out of airplanes, ride motorcycles, dance until 5 am on a Wednesday, buy day-old bread, color outside the lines. I want to be… me - or who I would have been.
I have a boyhood friend - actually my first lover - who, at age 18 died face down in the living room of some rented beach-front condo in South Florida. Heroin and cocaine. An overdose. A party gone wrong. Maybe it was a hookup. Maybe it was a trick. It’s unclear. But for me it was the clincher. That was me; or would have been if I was out and in the scene. I never had a chance to say goodbye. I guess that’s the way it always is. I never told him how much his laughter lightened my heart. I was off at college with a girlfriend and a 1 year old daughter back home. The clincher; AIDS, drugs, sex - he was gone and I was - safe.
I told my wife and family I was gay in the fall of 2005 shortly after my 40th birthday. Lots of support from several new gay friends I had made in Atlanta. A real family I was to discover. My real family took the news with mixed reviews. My wife was devastated and I became devastated by the pain I was causing my family. My daughter of 24 still does not accept this choice. My then wife and I raised our children fairly agnostically and I am happy that my oldest daughter developed her spiritual and religious beliefs outside of parental socialization. But that must certainly make a lot of this harder for her as a newly initiated Christian in the south. And I’m okay with that. My youngest daughter is a lesbian but I think she may have internally taken this even harder because of that. I was still her father, should be married to her mother, and should be there with them. But she must at the same time support me as gay. I can’t even imagine how that works psychologically, emotionally for her. The dog and the cats took it well though so I did have support there.
Family. Compared to the straight community the GLBT community is close; family close. So we’re family I guess. Maybe that’s because our own families have often rejected us or at best just don’t understand or maybe just don't want to talk about it. Maybe it’s the social stigma that is placed upon us, or the popularity of publicly discriminating against gays. Regardless, every day I am thankful I have this new family (catty as it may be sometimes ;-)
As a newly-out male I found that being invited to family gatherings like trivia at Joe’s or a campy drag show at Blake’s became my outlet; my salvation. The summer before I came out I’d often spend afternoons working from some Midtown coffee house just so I could be close to the gayborhood - close to an open and accepted community as is perhaps possible in the south. Certainly as close as it gets in the red-state of Georgia. Here was a comfort, a level of acceptance I had truly never experienced nor expected before. Here there were people, students, professionals, musicians, teachers, cooks, bar tenders - all variety of people who were like me or, even better, were unlike me but saw me as just another person; one of them, who I was. Comfortable.
I met new people and made more friends. Expanded my circle of support while working through the challenges ahead if, wait – when I came out. It was certain now. I had hidden myself behind my shield too long. Safety came from within, not from without and I knew - I knew.
So I suppose that is the short version. My life from then until now. I'll see if I can dig up some older journals and repost them if there is any interest.
I don’t remember much of 24 anymore and it’s not from some early form of senility, though some might argue otherwise. It seems more from the fact that 24 is not just 18, um 17 years ago but a whole life away. A straight life; a life with a wife, two daughters, a dog, a cat, some gold fish, car payments, a mortgage, and working the 9 to 5 in not so shinny black dress shoes and all too often a tie.
I was never truly that person. It was the expected thing. It was the normal thing. It was safe.
Safe. So much focus there for me; perhaps for us all. It was 1974 when I discovered my sexuality and fully nine years later before I accepted it internally. 1983, Fag, Gay-Cancer, AIDS, Expectations. There was a lot to feel safe about deeply stowed away behind my white picket fence and my two weeks of summer vacation.
The early 80’s and it’s realization that AIDS was real, here, and not going away was a scary time for many – unless you were straight. Oh, and not a heroin addict. Well, I hated needles anyway, how hard is it to set aside this inner self. This anomaly of life; I’m sure all men feel this way, have this attraction. Right? It natural. You’re okay, you’re straight; safe – I’m safe.
Safe. I hate that word now. I want to jump out of airplanes, ride motorcycles, dance until 5 am on a Wednesday, buy day-old bread, color outside the lines. I want to be… me - or who I would have been.
I have a boyhood friend - actually my first lover - who, at age 18 died face down in the living room of some rented beach-front condo in South Florida. Heroin and cocaine. An overdose. A party gone wrong. Maybe it was a hookup. Maybe it was a trick. It’s unclear. But for me it was the clincher. That was me; or would have been if I was out and in the scene. I never had a chance to say goodbye. I guess that’s the way it always is. I never told him how much his laughter lightened my heart. I was off at college with a girlfriend and a 1 year old daughter back home. The clincher; AIDS, drugs, sex - he was gone and I was - safe.
I told my wife and family I was gay in the fall of 2005 shortly after my 40th birthday. Lots of support from several new gay friends I had made in Atlanta. A real family I was to discover. My real family took the news with mixed reviews. My wife was devastated and I became devastated by the pain I was causing my family. My daughter of 24 still does not accept this choice. My then wife and I raised our children fairly agnostically and I am happy that my oldest daughter developed her spiritual and religious beliefs outside of parental socialization. But that must certainly make a lot of this harder for her as a newly initiated Christian in the south. And I’m okay with that. My youngest daughter is a lesbian but I think she may have internally taken this even harder because of that. I was still her father, should be married to her mother, and should be there with them. But she must at the same time support me as gay. I can’t even imagine how that works psychologically, emotionally for her. The dog and the cats took it well though so I did have support there.
Family. Compared to the straight community the GLBT community is close; family close. So we’re family I guess. Maybe that’s because our own families have often rejected us or at best just don’t understand or maybe just don't want to talk about it. Maybe it’s the social stigma that is placed upon us, or the popularity of publicly discriminating against gays. Regardless, every day I am thankful I have this new family (catty as it may be sometimes ;-)
As a newly-out male I found that being invited to family gatherings like trivia at Joe’s or a campy drag show at Blake’s became my outlet; my salvation. The summer before I came out I’d often spend afternoons working from some Midtown coffee house just so I could be close to the gayborhood - close to an open and accepted community as is perhaps possible in the south. Certainly as close as it gets in the red-state of Georgia. Here was a comfort, a level of acceptance I had truly never experienced nor expected before. Here there were people, students, professionals, musicians, teachers, cooks, bar tenders - all variety of people who were like me or, even better, were unlike me but saw me as just another person; one of them, who I was. Comfortable.
I met new people and made more friends. Expanded my circle of support while working through the challenges ahead if, wait – when I came out. It was certain now. I had hidden myself behind my shield too long. Safety came from within, not from without and I knew - I knew.
So I suppose that is the short version. My life from then until now. I'll see if I can dig up some older journals and repost them if there is any interest.
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Summer Wanderings
On the life front I'm going to take the summer off sabbatical style. As I've been told more than once I've some soul searching and general issues to be resolved and I can't agree more. Life has given me a chance to take some time off and I have the means and the ability so why not. I just hope some cool new opportunity doesn't present itself too soon.
So the plan is to travel. It's about the only thing I can say with some level of confidence that I'm good at doing. All of these years though I've rarely traveled for me, rarely traveled and enjoyed where I am.
Mostly I'll pack the pickup with tent/sleeping bag/misc stuff, strap on (easy boys) the kayak/surf board/bike and hit the road.
Pride in Atlanta in late June - can't miss that. July in Alaska I'm thinking (not driving but fly in). I have never felt so centered as I am when I'm in Valdez on the edge of the Chugach. Back to the east coast to where ever my truck is and then I'd like to head up to the Canadian Maritimes and take in the highland games in Antigonish Nova Scotia in late July. August will find me where ever - a bit of hurricane chasing up the East Coast would be amazing. It's been since high school and it's an wondrous thing, truly.
If I can fit in just half of it all. Alaska is on the mind for now.
So the plan is to travel. It's about the only thing I can say with some level of confidence that I'm good at doing. All of these years though I've rarely traveled for me, rarely traveled and enjoyed where I am.
Mostly I'll pack the pickup with tent/sleeping bag/misc stuff, strap on (easy boys) the kayak/surf board/bike and hit the road.
Pride in Atlanta in late June - can't miss that. July in Alaska I'm thinking (not driving but fly in). I have never felt so centered as I am when I'm in Valdez on the edge of the Chugach. Back to the east coast to where ever my truck is and then I'd like to head up to the Canadian Maritimes and take in the highland games in Antigonish Nova Scotia in late July. August will find me where ever - a bit of hurricane chasing up the East Coast would be amazing. It's been since high school and it's an wondrous thing, truly.
If I can fit in just half of it all. Alaska is on the mind for now.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Princeton University: Making the handicapped work for it every inch of the way....
Okay folks, it's not like I'm a bleeding heart liberal or anything like that. On the contrary I seem to be more of a libertarian - personal responsibility, make your own way, earn it and so forth - that sort of thing. That having been said I do believe in providing for those members of our society who perhaps are not as fortunate as I am.
As the following pictures will show apparently Princeton University feels the same way albeit with a bit more emphasis on the "make your own way / earn it" side of the equation.
Just attending classes for some would seem to be a challenge on this campus ;-)
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