Basically, she said that when voting on minority rights by majority vote, you’re going to get exactly what you wanted.  THE MAJORITY!  We in the GLBT community know and realize we are a minority.  There are enough kids in foster care to show that.  There are enough straight divorce cases crowding the judiciary system for us to know that.  It’s been a given since the beginning of time.  And yes, there were gay people back then too.  In every tribe of human creation.  And in hindsight, there were probably some gay chimpanzees or gorillas before them! LOL.  But that’s another heated subject in itself.

I was totally annoyed when my state of current residence, Georgia, and my home state, Alabama, both voted against gay marriage.  Was I in any way expecting the measure to pass?  Not in the slightest.  I know all to well the feelings of the “majority” in the South.  “Being gay is a SIN and you will BURN in the fiery pits of HELL!”  Yeah, yeah…I’ve heard that before.  Thank you Brother ____ ______.   The natural human desire is for his/her location of birth/residence to progress.  Progression is the best policy for the continuance of the human race.  If you don’t progress, you get left behind.  The only issue in that is people can’t progress when they have been raised with thoughts of hatred inbred (no pun intended) in their minds.  One ounce of hatred will fester into a lifetime of bigotry and ignorance.  Hence what has happened in 90% of the southeast US.

Being one that voted in the GA election, I stood in line of hundreds of people trying to get to the ballot machine.  I, like just about every person in that line, had a look of confusion on my face as to the clear meaning of the question we were to decide.  Is this saying that if I vote YES, I am for or against the measure?  If I vote NO, will I be condemning me and all the people in this state seeking equality?  I, for one, remember looking up and seeing other people looking at me with the face of, “What should I say?”  It boggles me how we as a democracy cannot have a simple “Do you want gay and lesbian citizens to have the right to marry?” as a question on the ballot.  We would have been crystal clear on our impending choice.  Oh…that’s right!  We live in a country of law makers, not sense makers.  Case solved.

The obvious reasons for many of the votes causing the hatred laws to pass is the way in which those people were raised.  Many of us belong to families who are deep into the religious way of living.  It’s not our fault that we ended up in the Bible Belt with churches on every corner and Republican signs in every yard.  It might not be our fault to have been born into that way of thinking.  It, however, is our fault if we choose to continue on that path in adulthood.  Along with age should come responsibility, education, and the ability to open our minds and our hearts.  How did Jesus say this?

¹¹When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.¹²For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. – 1 Corinthians 13: 11-12, KJV

Yes, I know many passages in the Bible just as those people who have cast me out or berated me because of who I am.  There hasn’t been many, but the few have spoken loud enough to be heard.  I digress.

Getting down to the point, Prop 8 was essentially a way the majority could hold the minority under their thumbs.  I’m not saying that everyone who voted NO on Prop 8 were gay.  There were, I’m sure, many straight, equality-loving people who can see the injustice and personally know someone gay in their lives voted NO as well.  To those people, we thank you from the bottom of our hearts.  We should be giving you all a toaster!  Ours have worked wonderfully since we came out of the closet!

I have never asked my father, nor my brother and sister, which way they voted in the Alabama election.  It would probably be better if I never knew.  Our relationship is one that I am deeply thankful.  They can see things the way they want or need to as to get through their own lives.  I would only hope they see the love and bond my partner and I share for one another with or without having a legal license from any state.  The love of 10-15 people I call my family is much more important than the millions who reside inside a political border.

Great going, California!  You’ve received what you wanted.  Now help the rest of us get that if you can.

I have hit a somewhat milestone in The Gay Life of a Country Boy…Episode 10!  I am doing this podcast with my friend Terminally Single Tim.  We talk about a whole bunch of stuff from strippers at the bar on Saturday night to skinning squirrels as a child to deer drives and then the most butch of all things….soap operas! LMAO! You bet I know a few things about the soap opera world! Thanks Mom!

Have a great week, yall!
Wes

Saying that, I am hoping the accounting will pay off. LOL. I didn’t try to make that sound the way it did, but yes. It should pay off for the effort I expect to place into learning the field. I love math and pretty much anything to do with crunching numbers. And if you know me close enough, you know money can stay in my wallet till it deteriorates. While attending The University of West Alabama, I decided to stay in Livingston over a Christmas holiday with friends instead of going home. I lived the whole month of December with a dollar in my wallet. I won’t say what things I did to continue the life I was accustomed to (living in a bottle of booze and smoking tons of cigarettes), but I made it through. I was happy to know the people I did in those times. If it had not been for one or two people, I would have starved to death over the winter. Waitresses in truck stops can be caring and generous.

I like to say the ability to hold cash in my wallet comes from my grandfather. He always wore overalls and his wallet stayed in the pocket….over his heart. It never left him for a second unless he was changing overalls. He was a wonderful man, but that money he carried meant a lot. My mother was allowed to get money out when it was needed for something. That something had better be something important like cattle feed (when he had cows) or a doctor bill if he was too sick to get the money out himself. I don’t believe I have seen a wallet so thick since his. He wasn’t a wealthy man, but what he had made him richer than any other human on earth. He was the bear on the hill to me. He would work his gardens like no one’s business. He watched over his cattle and mended fences around his property. His wealth was not something an accountant could track. Love can’t truly be debited or credited to a person. Either it is there or it’s not.

Here’s to a new beginning with lots of numbers and detail to accuracy. Wish me luck.

I spent some time with my parents on Saturday evening, listening to my dad bitch about things not going right with the country. This, however, only proves my point when I say that people in rural areas are shoved so far up Republican ass that they can’t see daylight. I know we are going through some tough times, but they weren’t started during a Democratic presidential term. But putting that aside, I sat in that living room and listened to my dad say one thing and then my mom, in rebuttal, grumble under her breath. She asked me if I was ready to eat, and I said I could stomach something. Supper consisted of baked pork chops, peas, and potato salad. My mom’s cooking has so gone downhill from when I lived there. Half that shit would have been fried! Oh, I forgot. There were some fried green tomatoes. That saved everything! There was no fried okra. There was no big honking piece of meat thrown into the peas along with half a salt block! LOL! Since my dad has been diagnosed with high blood pressure (read Satan), he has been told to not eat fried foods and lots of salt. Such a hindrance to my mom’s fantastically wonderful southern cooking. I digress. I ate, I listened to more talking, and then I went to my sister’s house so that I could get some quiet sleep!

Labrina's great house in Alabama

I am so excited for my sister. She found her house for around $40,000. I almost shat myself when I heard this. You would never find this kind of deal in the Atlanta area. It is a three bedroom, one bath, with a large living room and a combination kitchen/dining room that is amazingly large. The dining room has a fireplace, but she is in the process of getting rid of it. The hardwood paneling in the house is very special. It is made of planks produced by the mill at Scotch Lumber Company in Fulton, AL. Those are not made anymore. Once those planks are varnished, they shine like diamonds. You have to keep them polished, but that’s a little work for something great. I know of at least 4 houses that have these installed. I only wish they were still processed at that mill. I know they can be purchased elsewhere, but they truly aren’t the same. Even the name of the mill is burned into the end of the board. But enough about the boards. As you can tell by the picture, the yard needs some work. The grass will start growing and spread where there is none. She is in the process of renovating some of the house…some things that are necessary these days are missing. For instance, there is no central heating/cooling. There are window units in the bedrooms, but in that area of south Alabama, it’s crazy to have small AC units. It’s a waste of energy. She will soon be installing a unit and will have to install the vent system as well. Nothing was ever made ready for a cooling unit.

I went to the high school I graduated from and visited a teacher that is like my second mother. She was my Spanish teacher and taught me more than just Spanish while in her class. She was one of the better teachers of our day. Mrs. Davis actually cared about the personal well-being of her students. Of course, she probably had her favorites, but that comes with any teacher. If you showed interest in improving yourself, she would stand beside you and help you make that happen. Not so much for the class clowns who didn’t give a rat’s ass about education. She saw the need in my brother as well and became as close to him as she was to me. She came to church one Sunday and heard me sing “Beulah Land” for Baptist Mens’ Day. I didn’t mean to make most of the women cry that day, but it happened. I had a knot in my throat the whole time as well. But onto my visit, the school is the same name, totally different building. The old one was getting too run down and something modern was needed. Oh well, my fond memories will always be in the old buildings. At least two or three of the outlying buildings are there.

I didn’t get to go fishing like I had wanted. That was a downside of the trip. I forgot my rod and reel over here in GA. Could have used my dad’s, but that was OK. I made it through the trip without going. I did make a trip to Meridian, MS. I spent a bunch of time there while attending West Alabama. Probably more than I should have. I could have been studying…..or drinking with friends…..or studying! Went to Bonita Lakes Mall with my brother and then went back to AL.

That’s sadly the extent of my trip. From Saturday to Wednesday evening, my life was just filled with excitement. Extended talks with my brother and some time visiting friends made up the most enjoyable parts. When I get tired of the life in the city again, I’ll find my way down there for a few days.

Let me start this by explaining “country”. A definition of the word is “pertaining to the regions remote from a city; rural; rustic; as, a country life; a country town; the country party, as opposed to city.”  The Urban Dictionary defines a country person as “a hardworking person who lives outside town and speaks with a long, soft southern drawl.”  That’s a bit closer. My own personal definition for the term is “a place, not inside a city/town limit, where a more quiet lifestyle is observed and where farming and agricultural products are produced. Also, pertaining to a more wooded, forest area.” A country person would of course be “someone who prefers the lifestyle, culture, and practices observed in a country setting over those in an urban or city setting.”

I believe I might have mislead some people in thinking that to be country, you have to do a certain set of things. This was not my intention. I grew up in a community made entirely of dirt roads, cow pastures, gardens, and pine trees. My family did have gardens, had cows and chickens, and revered the quietness of country life. Fishing, hunting, and other outdoor activities were done, but these did not make me country. What made me country was my love and acceptance of a more slow and laid back way of thinking, without the headaches and the rushing so associated with the city. The nearest city, Mobile, was an hour and a half away. Some influences made their way up to where I lived but not enough to make any real difference.

I read something not long ago, a comment on a post on Facebook, that made me second guess this blog and it’s direction. This guy made a comment about something he used to do on his parent’s farm. Throwing bales of hay I believe it was. When I said I never had to do that, he replied that he thought I was a country boy. That comment disturbed me all evening. Being country is not because of something your parents make you do. My parents made me cut grass. My father made me walk behind his tractor when plowing the garden. My father made me help him drag a deer he had killed out of the woods, across a branch. My father made me help spread fertilizer in a field so that grass would be grown for deer hunting. Neither of these actions made me country. The eventual realization that I liked this or that I took something with me from doing this made me country. Did the fact that I spent a good part of my early childhood without indoor plumbing help in making me country? I believe I can own that.

As much as I love to fish, go camping, go hiking, or anything taking place outdoors, none of this makes me country. Being country is a feeling deep inside my heart and soul that tells me where I belong. Living close to a large metropolitan area has its advantages, no doubt about that, but the city is not me. It’s too fast for me. Too confusing. Too drama filled. We live more in the country than in the city….by about 20 to 30 miles or more. That’s fine with me. There are trees all around and a large lake and only minutes from the Appalachian Mountains. I feel like I belong. It’s not Alabama, but it’s darn close here in North Georgia.

So where does this take me in the future of the blog/podcast? I am going to do my best to be Wes. I am going to be the man I am, not trying to put on a facade for purposes unknown. I am a gay guy that likes to me loud sometimes with friends.  I like to talk about different things that may not be considered country by most…especially not by the “good ole boys.” Every country place has gay men. We are all around you. The one thing that’s a bit strange to you is that we are, for the most part, just like you, except that we like dick. And that girl sitting beside you….well, she ain’t lookin’ at you, big boy. She’s eying your wife.

From now on, you are going to see and hear from me. We bought a compatible camcorder the other day, so I am ready to do some vidcasting. I’ll be getting set up to do that shortly. Get ready, cause here I come.

We’re all used to the traditional family set up of mom, dad, brothers and sisters, and all other sorts of extended family titles. These are the people we grow up with and either love or can’t tollerate. Families come in different shapes and sizes and deal with about the dumbest shit. My family is no exception. Being 31 years old, I have witnessed grown people turn into complete assholes at the drop of a hat over the smallest, insignificant thing. I play this off as just something that has to happen because it’s in “the plan.” There is another family, however, that one selects through careful consideration and bonds shared with another human outside the family bloodline. This is what would be called the secondary family.

My secondary family started to grow when I left home in 1996 and traveled a short distance of 75 miles north to attend The University of West Alabama, formerly known as Livingston University. I arrived and somewhat quickly began to make friends. I found it was much easier to make friends in college than it ever was in high school. Different mind frames played a major part in this. I met new, exciting people almost every day. When I met Travis and one other guy, things seemed different. It was as if I regained a feeling of family. There seemed to be a deep feeling of closeness, trust, and love that reminded me of home.

Travis and I moved to Atlanta on Memorial Day weekend in 1999. Right off the bat, we met a guy in Midtown Atlanta for lunch. He and I had chatted on an archaic website called WBS…around the time Gay.com began. It was a great meeting and, even though we don’t get to see him as often as we would like, he is still considered one of our dearest friends…and oldest family member! He was there to start off our annual Thanksgiving celebrations. He helped us meet other gay men in the Atlanta area, and introduced us to the bar scene. Wow, Burkharts and The Gospel Echoes and The Gospel Girls on Sunday nights, waving our napkins in the air to “Looking For a City” while drinking a Bud Light. Only in the South, people!

I was working at the Warner Brothers Studio Store right after the move. It was a wonderful place full of cartoon stuff that wasn’t primarly meant for children. This guy starts working there and we start talking every now and then in passing. You know how it is when you first start working somewhere. You don’t know anyone and you just want to settle in and work. Well, I saw something in him. There was a twinkle and my gaydar picked up on it. I strolled over to the table where he was folding shirts, and since there is no filter between my brain and my mouth, I came out with, “Are you gay?!” I guess I must have startled the poor thing since he looked flushed as he muttered the word, “Uhh…yeah!” Boom! Instant family connection. It’s been a strong one that’s lasted all ten years and he’s still living with us, minus a few years of sabbatical! LMAO!

Two other wonderful guys came into our lives not long afterward. They have been there when we needed help with a lot of things, including things with the house, being there on holidays when we don’t have time to go see our real families, and have even been helpful in finding a job. Twice, no doubt! These guys also introduced us to the glories of nude camping! YES, I said NUDE CAMPING! It’s not a new idea. More and more clothing optional campgrounds are popping up each year. They allow you the chance to be in nature and learn to appreciate people for who they are, not by the way their bodies look. We all have flaws and being nude in the sunlight will bring them all out to everyone’s attention. We love these two guys with all our hearts and wouldn’t have it any other way.

Last night, Travis and I had dinner with these two guys, along with another couple we’ve met within the past few years. And, as I always love to see, two fresh faces in the gayborhood joined us at O’Charleys. These two are new additions to our ever increasing secondary family. It’s great to see new faces and ideas. It reminds us that there is no reason to become old and set in our ways. Most of us don’t go out every weekend. We may not be up on the latest styles or fads. We do like to see new people who are willing to stand up for who they are in an oppressive country and as time goes by, they will find we will be there for them when they need us.

There are more people in our secondary family than I can mention in this article. Each one has captured a place in our hearts, minds, and souls. Those people are in precious memories stored in our lives that can never be lost or stolen. Whether in good times or bad, many have been there and have done what they could to make our lives a bit more bareable. Thanks so much and we love you all.

Until later!