Thursday, January 6, 2011


I had a boss, Dr. Ken Kinnamon, who urged me several times to write an autobiography.  He thought my life was interesting and an autobiography would be good for me to do.  My sincere response was that (1) my life has been very boring, almost a cliche, and (2) I would be afraid to “tell it all.”

In the past several years, three different people have suggested that, as opinionated as I am, I should write a blog.  I disagreed initially with that suggestion because I couldn’t imagine having enough to say to fill a blog.

Obviously, I’ve come to appreciate the advantages of writing here.  I look forward each day to sitting myself down and coming up with a few paragraphs about my life.  I do this blog for me.  I can’t believe anyone else will ever read it, even my kids.  It’s a great way to vent and it keeps my writing and typing skills up to speed.

I have discovered one problem with the blog.  Twice I’ve wanted to write things that hit on my (gay) sexuality.  Not that I want to write autobiographical porn.  I don’t have many porn–like experiences in my life anyway.  I didn’t allow myself to post either piece after I wrote it because my four daughters may read this.

So how much information would be too much information for them, and for other people who know me?  Without a doubt, my kids know that I am gay, and so they must realize that I have had some kind of gay experience.  How much would it bother them to know what one or two of those experiences were?  How much would it shock others who know me to read that stuff?  I don’t know the answer to either question.

I’ve actually written the two pieces.  One is a statement of appreciation to a fine gay man; the other is a consideration of the possibility that straight men might enjoy sexually teasing gay men.  I did post a sanitized statement of appreciation.  I still can’t bring myself to post the piece about straight men.

Maybe one day I’ll know how this blog thing is supposed to work.  We’ll see.

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