I guess it was Toni Morrison who said “write the book you want to read,” if that book doesn’t seem to exist yet. “Festival Days” is the book I wanted to read (though didn’t know it) as well as write, but as luck would have it, I didn’t need to because Jo Ann Beard already wrote it.
A tremendous group of essays (maybe some are stories, fiction) which reminded me how much I love reading books of well-written essays. Joan Didion’s work from the 60s-70s like “Slouching Towards Bethlehem” and “The White Album” are also books of essays and are what made me want to write in the first place. Some vitamins such as vitamin generic viagra pill E, vitamin D and vitamin E. The product is known to offer phenomenal results with http://mouthsofthesouth.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/05/MOTS-06.01.19-Faircloth.pdf cheapest cialis erectile failures in complete control. There are times in life when it becomes important for an individual to get in touch with free sample cialis the doctor who can guide them properly to a better doctor who could at least give them the best medicine possible and most of the time the medicine which is very effective medicine in enhancing erection in male. Instances of serious complications mouthsofthesouth.com buy levitra online include and are not personally satisfying to either party.
I haven’t written essays yet. Maybe I will. (So far just fiction, and one memoir.) But for the reader, these are what I’d call real page-turners, from the one that drew me to the book (an account of escaping a fire, the insanely unbelievable, yet true “Werner”) to the title story, “Festival Days,” which effortlessly weaves a trip to India with the death of relationships and a close friend, and so much more. “Maybe it Happened” is a terrifying account of a home invasion attack on a single person home alone – which does seem so real and raw it can’t be fiction. But I don’t know.
In the last year, I have remembered a lot of my dreams, which for me is a bit unusual. Maybe it’s the pandemic, but they’re infused with anxiety/longing about things past, present and most of all, future. I find that Beard’s stories often have this random dreamlike quality to them, and her gift is making a universe that’s so rich with the connections. Or maybe it’s because we’re both Boomers, the same age (if a detail in one of the stories, she being 8 when Kennedy was assassinated, as I was, is true) and there is more past now than future – and the awareness of that colors it all.
In my mind as I was finishing “The Prophets” was the idea that the Derek Chauvin trial (for the murder of George Floyd) was also in its first day – and thinking, wondering, how far have we really come from the world presented in this poetic novel (antebellum Mississippi)?
What if not only there were enslaved Africans in same-sex relationships, but also the peoples they came from had long traditions of both same-sex relations and differing gender roles, both of which are at play here in “The Prophets?”
The story is of a Mississippi plantation, the Elizabeth Plantation, or as it’s called, merely “Empty.” An apt name for this hell on earth, this not-Tara. Isaiah and Samuel are the lovers here, who make the barn they work and live in much more because of their love for each other. Among the other enslaved people are both allies and enemies, and curiously, it’s the sexual orientation that opens up that rift when it does occur.
The family that owns both the slaves and plantation is small – the Halifaxes, Paul and Ruth, and their one surviving son, Timothy, who is an artist who, we come to find out, is also gay. And he’s interested in both Samuel and Isaiah, a set up for the plot of the novel – which I won’t detail because of spoilers.
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The language is poetic and invites scrutiny, which I think is a strength. After all, it’s about strangers in a strange land, and by the use of the world of spirits, dreams, visions, memories, etc., it’s always reinforced that it’s a story about a people displaced, who were stolen from a very different place with its own culture, mystery and magic.
I’ve been to old plantation tours in Louisiana (and maybe one in the Florida panhandle) and there’s always a veneer of the old grace, the Old South, in the quiet, spotless mansions, even if they do also give you a “slave quarters” explanation and tour. Sanitized. “The Prophets” is anything but sanitized.
It seems timely, too, to revisit America’s other original sin (the first being the displacement and genocide of the Indigenous Peoples who lived on this land) in times where we see the re-emergence of white supremacy and new Jim Crow laws, in the year of Black Lives Matter.
It’s a dream of what a queer life might have been like in the days before the Civil War, and that’s a dream worth having.
I was recently reminded the benefits of spas when I remembered the spa towns I visited on my first-ever trip to Europe back in the mid-70s. Oddly enough, by a very sobering documentary on Nazi atrocities (The Einsatzgruppen, Nazi Death Squads on Netflix). When I visited Zell am See, as well as Bad Gastein, both in Austria, I don’t think I knew at the time that these places (at least Zell am See) were frequented by Nazi leaders.
A neighborhood in Glenwood Springs. Colorado, 1975.
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Friends attempting to snowshoe, Glenwood Canyon 1975.
Near Glenwood Springs, Colorado, winter, 1975.
No, the reason I went to these places (besides the benefits of spas) is because they were fused in my mind with a cool “Sound of Music/Apres Ski” kind of delusion, a place where swirling, heated water would find whiskey would find roaring fires and young men with tight pants stretched over their long johns. A midwinter fantasy come true, perhaps.
I never found that particular thing, on that trip or any other, to be honest. Still, we have some spa towns here in the U.S., and they have other charms even if one’s fantasy is hard to materialize.
Glenwood Springs
I’ve been in and through Glenwood Springs, Colorado, a few times over the years and have been in the hot springs pool more than once. Including, for an encounter that somewhat reminded me of Aschenbach/Tadzio from Death in Venice, which I recount for you in my mostly true road trip diary, Wanderslut 1996: A Gay Road Trip Across America.
Glenwood Springs Hot Springs Pool (Colorado)
The Many Benefits of Spas
You may already know, but here’s a reminder as to the many benefits of spas and hot springs!
Heat increases circulation by dilating blood vessels.
Buoyancy relieves joint stress by reducing your weight by 90 percent.
Jet massage soothes away tension.
reduces pain you may be having – from skiing, yes, but also the aches and pains of normal life and aging.
supports healing.
social benefits – as in, it’s fun to fuck in the spa, everybody knows this.
promotes sleep (especially if you’ve had sex in the spa).
promotes relaxation – what could be more relaxing than a glass of wine or a blunt in the swirling mist? Or not, for those of us who are sober, author included, the swirling water works just find on its own.
Pool eye view of Glenwood Springs, Colorado, Hot Springs Pool
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Like the mythical “Florida Man” (or Woman) my many trips to the sunshine state over the years varied wildly, with mostly memorable experiences in Florida.
Street scene in South Beach (Miami Beach) in 1996.
To the best of my recollection, the first time I was there was in bicentennial year 1976. I was 21, and it was a family trip. We went to Destin, a beach location on the panhandle, warm water and blindingly white sand beaches.
Because I was with my parents and younger siblings and also car-less, I did not partake in many “extracurriculars.” Still, I enjoyed myself and loved the location. We also toured a nearby plantation. I remember that as being one of the hottest experiences (meaning the temperature was just uncomfortably, overwhelmingly hot) of my life.
Later Trips
A couple of summers later, I bought a Greyhound Bus Pass to tour the United States and ended up in Key West. This became one of the most consequential trips of my life and probably my best experience in Florida. After this trip I decided that if there was any problem with my being gay it was your problem, not mine. A sea change in my thinking – but for the sex part, see below.
During my later career in public relations, I visited the state because conventions were there (usually in Orlando), which is a little different from a vacation but still had moments of fun. Most recently, I’ve had a visit with an old friend who relocated to Miami and went to visit – this time on an Amtrak Pass, once again touring the United States.
It’s a Big State with a Lot of Variety
Florida is way bigger than it looks on the map, or at least that’s the impression I got when driving through it.
Chilling in the Tampa (TPA) airport.
It’s got the conservative north, where Tallahassee and Gainesville are, as well as the aforementioned Gulf Coast white sand beaches. Then there’s Orlando, with all things Disney and the iconic gay Parliament House (see below, now sadly closed/gone).
This is actually a view of West Palm Beach station from the train (sorry for the phone reflection). 2017.
Then there’s Southeast Florida, where urban, exciting Miami is located, also gay Fort Lauderdale and a zillion other beach towns (including one where an unpleasant, disgraced ex-president lives in shame).
The blogger’s legs and foot at Miami Beach. (2017)
There’s the Florida Keys, an attraction all their own, the location of everything from Flipper to Bloodline, as well as the popular gay destination of Key West (arguably more popular in the past than now).
And let’s not forget the Gulf Coast south of the panhandle, where Tampa, Ft. Myers, Sanibel, etc. are located. (On my Wanderslut 1996 Road Trip, I visited the panhandle, Sanibel, Miami and Fort Lauderdale. Read about it here.)
Ocean front dwellings in Miami Beach (or north Miami) 2017.
Good Sex to be had in Florida
I figure that’s what you’re really interested in.
My sex experiences in Florida ranged from life-changing to meh. So yes, it is a state of contrasts.
Life-changing is what I’d describe a trip to Key West in 1979, where I had been on a bus touring America with stops here and there, until one day I decided “fuck this. I want sex, drugs and rock and roll and I definitely want to get off this bus!” I looked at a map and decided: Ok, Key West.
Key West
It was already a gay destination in 1979 and had been. I took the bus there. I stayed at the Island House, which is still there, still a gay resort as I write this, 42 years later .
In the week or so I spent there, I fucked many men, took a few drugs and danced to a fair amount of rock ‘n roll (and disco, baby). It was fun in the way any horny 24-year-old would have fun. But what made it life-changing was the acceptance and peace I got for the way I was, for the way I was born, in a way which had eluded me up to that point. After that trip, I never regretted being gay or wished I was straight ever again.
Parliament House
I’m also happy that years later as a professional on a business trip, I booked an extra day or two after a convention to stay at the Parliament House in Orlando, which was a legendary gay resort that featured restaurants and nightclubs and discos in addition to the rooms and pools. Sad to say, it’s closed now, and rather recently. But I was happy to partake in the tropical sleazy atmosphere of what was kind of a non-stop orgy. (Even though I was way past 24.)
Vintage photos from Parliament House
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Finally, in the “meh” category, I struck out on numerous occasions to hook up in the unforgiving city of Miami. The sexual stars have just never aligned for me there. You can read about some of that, too, in Wanderslut 1996: A Gay Road Trip Across America.
Despite its well-deserved reputation as a party town, I’ve never imbibed in New Orleans. I first visited the wonderful southern city in 1996 (as part of my journey in Wanderslut 1996: A Gay Road Trip Across America). I was living six years as a sober gay man by that time.
The blogger with some famous shaved ice at Hansen’s.
Mindset
When sober, you have to think of the other attributes of a place (other than the tourist stereotype) to focus on. In New Orleans, for me anyway, (on my first few visits at least), that fact that it had chops as a gay-friendly place — The French Quarter, anyway — that was a major attraction.
I liked these frilly porches I found on one of my bike rides in NOLA.
Beyond that particular carrot, I think that your interests (as a sober gay man) expand after achieving sobriety since that kind of wild partying is no longer an option. You gravitate toward long dormant, or new interests – which for me include things like history, architecture and building history, music, food, nature and of course, my family.
Rue de la Course, a coffeehouse in an old bank building in Uptown, where I’d sometimes go to write.
Things I Did for Fun
The gay stuff: New Orleans has/had a ton of gay bars, most located in the French Quarter around Bourbon Street. I more or less did the requisite “stop in” but to be honest, there seemed to be such an emphasis on getting that drunk buzz that I felt uncomfortable and had to leave.
I had much more fun at the Club New Orleans baths (detailed in my book Wanderslut 1996) which, unfortunately, is closed now. Four floors of sober gay fun in an ancient building a block or so from the Mississippi! It did, at least for me, have a lot of answers to carnal dreams. I was sad to see it close. Every time I visit I hope I’ll find that some entrepreneur has opened a new bathhouse. The hook-up apps have ruined a lot of IRL gay culture – this was just another casualty.
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NOLA was not all about sex, of course. There’s music – I went to Jazz Fest (usually late April every year) a couple of times, and also to clubs to hear live bands. I really love New Orleans style piano, so if Jon Cleary is playing while I’m visiting, I do try to go.
The sightseeing/history piece: New Orleans and the surrounding area is nothing if not historical. On that first trip in ’96 I did walking tours in the city, the Quarter and Garden District, etc. Later on, and especially once I had family living there, we’d go farther afield — to a Plantation Tour on the old River Road, a Swamp Tour on the Pearl River in nearby Mississippi.
This shack is a slave quarters at one of the plantations I toured. (Laura Plantation)
The Spring after Katrina, my sister (who by now lived in NOLA) took me on what she dubbed the Katrina Tour of Destruction, which pretty much describes seeing the remnants of that terrible storm.
Lived There for a Month
In late 2012, I wrote a post titled “Is It Time to Consider Leaving Los Angeles?” — which my sister saw. She then invited me to spend some time with them to “try living in New Orleans” as a sober gay man for a month.
So I did, l lived there for a month in spring, 2013 – to see if I wanted to move there. What did I do? Write, exercise, spend time with family, see some music events, bicycle, went to a couple of recovery meetings, maybe cooked dinner, restaurants, a bit of sightseeing, even a trip or two to the baths. Tried to do pretty much what I would do at home in L.A. if I was there.
A restaurant on Oak Street in Uptown.
In the end, I decided against a move — but that, as they say, was then. I’ve never closed the door completely on that idea. It’s a fascinating place!
An old oak with Spanish Moss in Audubon Park, New Orleans.
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I’m not sure what to call these people. They voted to overturn the free and fair elections of November 3, 2020, in many cases even the elections where they themselves won, because they didn’t like the outcome at the top of the ticket.
We will prevail over the Republican Insurrectionists.
Elections certified by all 50 states and the District of Columbia, and verified by the Electoral College. But again – they didn’t like the outcome.
Traitors is probably the wrong word, only because it has such a specific and narrow definition. Insurrectionists is closer, but that’s cumbersome. Complicit coup plotters? Haters of democracy? I’ll let you be the judge of what word to use to describe these people.
None of these people belongs in representative government. ever again. My fervent hope is that they are all voted out when next they come up for renewal. In the meantime, feel free to shame – and share widely.
Senate Republicans Who Hate Democracy:
Tommy Tuberbille, AL
Rick Scott, FL
Roger Marshall, KS
John Kennedy, LA
Cindy Hyde-Smith, MS
Josh Hawley, MO
Ted Cruz, TX
Cynthia Lummis, WY
Republican House Reps Who Hate Democracy:
Robert Aderholt, AL
Mo Brooks, AL
Jerry Carl, AL
Barry Moore, AL
Gary Palmer, AL
Mike Rogers, AL
Andy Biggs, AZ
Paul Gosar, AZ
Debbie Lesko, AZ
David Schweikert, AZ
Rick Crawford, AR
Ken Calvert, CA
Mike Garcia, CA
Darrell Issa, CA
Doug LaMalfa, CA
Kevin McCarthy, CA
Devin Nunes, CA
Jay Obernolte, CA
Lauren Boebert, CO
Doug Lamborn, CO
Kat Cammack, FL
Mario Diaz-Balart, FL
Byron Donalds, FL
Neal Dunn, FL
Scott Franklin, FL
Matt Gaetz, FL
Carlos Gimenez, FL
Brian Mast, FL
Bill Posey, FL
John Rutherford, FL
Greg Steube, FL
Daniel Webster, FL
Rick Allen, GA
Earl (Buddy) Carter, GA
Andrew Clyde, GA
Marjorie Taylor Greene, GA
Jody Hice, GA
Barry Loudermilk, GA
Ross Fulcher, ID
Mike Bost, IL
Mary Miller, IL
Jim Baird, IN
Jim Banks, IN
Greg Pence, IN
Jackie Walorski, IN
Ron Estes, KS
Jacob LaTurner, KS
Tracey Mann, KS
Harold Rogers, KY
Garret Graves, LA
Clay Higgins, LA
Mike Johnson, LA
Steve Scalise, LA
Andy Harris, MD
Jack Bergman, MI
Lisa McClain, MI
Tim Walberg, MI
Michelle Fischbach, MN
Jim Hagedorn, MN
Michael Guest, MS
Trent Kelly, MS
Steven Palazzo, MS
Sam Graves, MO
Vicky Hartzler, MO
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Billy Long, MO
Blaine Luetkemeyer, MO
Jason Smith, MO
Matt Rosendale, MT
Dan Bishop, NC
Ted Budd, NC
Madison Cawthorn, NC
Virginia Foxx, NC
Richard Hudson, NC
George Murphy, NC
David Rouzer, NC
Jeff Van Drew, NJ
Yvette Herrell, NM
Chris Jacobs, NY
Nicole Malliotakis, NY
Elise Stefanik, NY
Lee Zeldin, NY
Adrian Smith, NE
Steve Chabot, OH
Warren Davidson, OH
Bob Gibbs, OH
Bill Johnson, OH
Jim Jordan, OH
Stephanie Bice, OK
Tom Cole, OK
Kevin Hern, OK
Frank Lucas, OK
Markwayne Mullin, OK
Cliff Bentz, OR
John Joyce, PA
Fred Keller, PA
Mike Kelly, PA
Daniel Meuser, PA
Scott Perry, PA
Guy Reschenthaler, PA
Lloyd Smucker, PA
Glenn Thompson, PA
Jeff Duncan, SC
Ralph Norman, SC
Tom Rice, SC
William Timmons, SC
Joe Wilson, SC
Tim Burchett, TN
Scott DesJarlais, TN
Chuck Fleischmann, TN
Mark Green, TN
Diana Harshbarger, TN
David Kustoff, TN
John Rose, TN
Jodey Arrington, TX
Brian Babin, TX
Michael Burgess, TX
John Carter, TX
Michael Cloud, TX
Pat Fallon, TX
Louie Gohmert, TX
Lance Gooden, TX
Ronny Jackson, TX
Troy Nehls, TX
August Pfluger, TX
Pete Sessions, TX
Beth Van Duyne, TX
Randy Weber, TX
Roger Williams, TX
Ron Wright, TX
Burgess Owens, UT
Christ Stewart, UT
Ben Cline, VA
Bob Good, VA
Morgan Griffith, VA
Robert Wittman, VA
Carol Miller, WV
Alexander Mooney, WV
Scott Fitzgerald, WI
Tom Tiffany, WI
As stated before, please feel free to shame and share widely.
The first time I happened upon “Gay Bisbee” was really by accident. I was a tourist visiting Tombstone on a road trip. Bisbee is just down the highway a bit, really the last little city on the road that leads to the Mexican border.
Shot of Bisbee, Arizona – taken in the ’90s on one of the blogger’s road trips.
I knew nothing about it but it had a weird and quirky name, so I had to see it. It’s small old mining town set in a valley, with houses dotting the hills above the main drag, which features a lot of turn-of-the-century era (the 20th century) brick buildings. The population is around 5,000.
Bisbee in the Past
Bisbee’s original claim to fame was mining. The Copper Queen mine (now closed, except for tours) was one of the biggest mining operations in Arizona for the period of the 1880s till WWII. The town of Bisbee grew up around it, hence the preponderance of architecture from that era, not only public buildings, but houses as well.
The population has been twice what it is now when the mines were active. So what happens when there’s an infrastructure for a larger town, but the people have left? Well, that brings us to:
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Bisbee Today
It always starts with those artists, now doesn’t it? Kidding, but no. Really. Artists almost always need inexpensive living and studio space, and what better location could there be than an old mining town that has lots of vacancy and low prices? That’s a bit of what happened in the 1970s to Bisbee, and the galleries followed that, the coffeeshops and B&Bs followed that, then it was attractive to Boomers retiring . . . and you can guess the rest.
Shot of Bisbee, Arizona – taken in the ’90s on one of the blogger’s road trips. Lots of houses and other buildings are perched on the hillsides surrounding the old town.
“Gay Bisbee” got its rep as a gay-friendly place by passing Arizona’s first same-sex civil union ordinance, back in the days before marriage equality. The town was already quite diverse and progressive – and continues that way. A bit of bright blue in a bright red state (which is increasingly becoming “purpler” and will no doubt become reliably blue in the future).
Bisbee in the Future
Boomer and other retirees? I imagine that trend will continue. With the popularity of AirBnb, the area will only get more popular as a tourist and getaway destination, a fairly easy drive from both Phoenix and Tucson and even El Paso. For myself, I look forward to spending more time there in those quiet, peaceful desert hills.
In a prior life (like, when I was still working for corporate America) I traveled to Las Vegas quite often for conventions and conferences, as it is probably the premier location in the United States for such things. There were many things I did not like about those trips, but here’s a few things that I did like:
Lots of Parking, Lots of it Free
I don’t know if it’s still true, but it certainly used to be that the majority of visitors to Vegas came from Southern California, and most of them by car. And why not? The city fathers and mothers, whether they were the mafia or relocated Mormon politicians, made Vegas an attractive, cheap, and close getaway.
Much to the delight of residents of California, who daily struggle with not only finding parking but also most often paying, in some way, for it. Vegas was wide open spaces, empty streets and parking structures with plenty of vacancies and nary a pay booth or parking meter in sight.
That changed a bit in recent years, with most Strip hotel/casinos still offering gratis parking for customers with the exception of (as of this writing in Dec. 2020) the Caesars Entertainment Group properties which charges fees if you’re not a guest or a Nevadan (Bally’s, Caesars Palace, Flamingo, Harrah’s, Linq, Paris Las Vegas).
The Monorail
Thing is, I like crowded cities that have mass transit systems – of some sort. Also hate inefficiencies when I see them. Like, for instance, long cab lines at the enormous Vegas venues.
The Las Vegas Monorail.
Good for the cab and ride share industries, maybe, not so good for you. Plus, if you’re there on your own dime, these fares can really add up. Which is why the Monorail was such a great idea (note, as of this writing in Dec. 2020, it’s still closed due to Covid).
Located just to the east of the Strip casino hotels, the Monorail is a pleasant, quick and relatively cheap way to get around the main hotel-casino-convention area of Vegas. There were/are plans to extend the Monorail north to downtown and south to the airport. Like with so many projects like this, the funding for such a project isn’t clear.
Perhaps Mayor Pete Buttigieg can help when he’s Transportation Secretary?
Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area
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If you get sick of the bustle, which can be overwhelming, there’s an antidote close by. Just to the east of Vegas and only a short drive from the Strip area (around 20 minutes) is the Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.
Red Rock Canyon National Preservation Area vista – on a clear day, you can see forever.
Hiking, picnics, views, bicycling — many options are available in this pristine and quiet desert getaway. Oh, and they have wild burros living there, too. You might get lucky and see one or two.
Casino Buffets
These used to be something like “$1.99 for all you can eat” back in the day. Those days are indeed long gone, but I still love the buffets, and they are still a great value.
What I love about them is: they have a wide variety of cuisines, and you can usually find something that you feel like eating. Of course, it’s as much as you want, so you can keep going back with your tray. Most buffets will have a chef making made-to-order items, just the way you like it.
I’ve never been rushed through a buffet and have never suffered a line that was more than, say, fifteen minutes long. They are staffed, but the waitpersons only do beverages and things like napkins, silverware. You can make it as healthy or as indulging as you’d like, and I really like that freedom. (Note: if you’re reading this during the pandemic, be advised that the buffets in Vegas are temporarily closed.)
There is Electricity in the Air!
Finally, there is always that feeling of expectation, that something wonderful can and will happen at any moment. Perhaps that something wonderful will come in the form of MONEY $$$$$$.
But it might be something else, like a triumph in your business (which might also result in $$$) or an unexpected hook up (like I got a few years back, as told in my book Wanderslut 1996: A Gay Road Trip Across America).
Or, it just might be the contact high you get in a place where so many people are on vacation and literally having the time of their lives. Suspend judgment for a moment, and the feeling might be infectious (and I don’t mean Covid-19)!
Festival Days by Jo Ann Beard
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