SHOW PICTURES

I just wanted to share some pictures from this weekends show.  Have a great day!

 

Mattie Madison at Club Reflections in Fort Worth



Mattie and friend Jason in Fort Worth.

last two months

I have been enjoying two month with a new special guy in my life.  It has been a struggle to find a man who understand who I am, and accept my baggage. Baggage comes in many forms.   I have held on to the things that once held sentimental value, kept emotional secrets and only in the last few years opened up to finding love again.  I have found a really special man named Scott.  At first I was very resistant to him.  I was scared of being hurt.  Each relationship I pursued previously was a disappointment.   Often time’s issues built up and I was frustrated.  Each experience taught me to refine my search and not settle for less. I fought my heart to remain open.  I had even put my feelings in neutral at times.   Scott has been an unexpected blessing.  I see now why relationships didn’t work with others.  Scott has all five S’s:   Single, Smart, Sexy, Successful and Special.  Some times, I think maybe he is out of my league.  That is not necessarily true. All of these things I looked for in others were not there.  They fell short. Now thankfully, Scott is a man worth having.  And he sees the qualities in Me that are worth having too. I am worth having.   .  My insecurities are something I deal with.  But as I get to know him more, we fit so well together.  He is very understanding, caring, and patient.   He enjoys many of the same things, and he listens to me when I talk. In fact he surprises me often when he recalls things that I have said or made reference in regard to my life and my childhood.  He also enjoys hearing about how I see the world. He has even shared many things about his person life experiences that I feel have shaped him as a person.  Scott and I were not strangers when we first “met” or re-connected.  He and I have been aquatinted for about five years.  He was in a previous relationship years ago that ended a few years ago.  I had never considered Scott anything but a friend. I tell him that he had to” talk” me into it.  That is not completely true.  He just saw it first, and opened my eyes to new possibilities.  

My heart changed and feelings about my friend grew into love.  I smile when I think of him; he brightens my day and makes me so happy. 

I ran into Scott by chance about six weeks ago. April 24^th. It was a Wednesday.   I went out to watch a pageant. I wanted to be around my friends. I had been through a tough break up with another guy I was dating. I was tired of staying home.  That guy would not even admit that he was even dating me.  Two months had passed and he rejected the idea of calling me his boyfriend.  That hurt.  He did not deserve me so I ended it.   I used the time to refocus and let go.   I had no idea that person I needed most was right in front of me.  There are two entrances to the Roundup Saloon in Dallas.  The front door is on Cedar Springs and a parking lot access door near the rear of the club.  The  Oaklawn area of Dallas is also referred to as the Gay-borhood.  A majority of the residents and establishments are gay.  I came in the back door.  I knew where my friends would be. So I quickly made my way from the back of the place toward the front. They usually congregate in the same area of the clubs interior.   I was high from smoking the joint that had been in my sock drawer for a while, but I knew where I was going. I walked to the u shaped bar to slam a few drinks and locate my friends.  The Round Up has a dance floor that is lower than the rest of the bar and is accessible by stepping down a step.  It makes watching an event, such as a pageant, better because everyone can see what is going on. I passed the side railing and saw my friend Scott. He had his arms folded and hands under his arms. He had been watching the pageant which had already started. He said “hey” and dropped one hand to tap my shoulder as I was passing. He said “hey how are you” I turned toward him and spoke as well.   He was smiling and looked me up and down quickly.  He said” well, you look good” and he smiled.  I quipped back “shit, I’m sexy!” We both smiled as I continued though the crowd.  Indeed I was looking good and felt confident that the clothes I had on showed off my recently weight loss and exercise regiment.  I was happy with how I was looking and apparently Scott noticed too.  I quickly turned to continue to the bar.  The joint I had smoked in the car had mellowed out my mood and I wanted to have a drink to keep the buzz and high going.  I smiled as I walked away from him.   I always enjoyed a good pageant.  Another friend was a contestant but  he did not win. I was glad to have an evening out. I was miserable and a pageant would surely pull me out of the rut I was in.  Scott and I have many of the same friends, so talking to him was easy the second time I saw him.  I had chugged my two drinks, and talked to him as I was standing in a pack of mutual friends.  We talked about the contest, and who we thought might win.  We both had our favorites, but it was clear who the top girls were.  At some point Scott asked if I wanted to go smoke in the patio.  Why not, I had already smoked a joint, drank a few drinks so adding a cigarette to the mix was no big deal.    I followed him outside. 

We stood off to one side of the patio and began to light up.  I was carrying the half pack of cigarettes I had brought with me.  We talked.  I remember he asked me what was new in my life.  I just started talking.  He seemed to follow every word I said. 

He also inquired about my personal life.  I had been through a string of frustrating and short relationships.  Each one ended quickly but still painfully.  I told this to Scott.  In fact the last guy had me second guessing myself.   Was I really so great? If so who didn’t any one notice it?  I kept asking myself these questions. I had put effort into building my self esteem, career and physical appearance.  I knew I was a happy person who was looking for someone special to share my life with.  All of this frustration lead me to give up and say “no more”.   I didn’t want anything from any one.  I had even shared some personal health issues with Scott. He did not know until that night that had been fighting a long term illness but my health had finally improved in the last few months. I told him about my time in the hospital 6 months prior and how serious it was then.   He is a great listener.   It was nice to vent and have some one understand.  After all he was no stranger; we had known each other for over five years.  He continued to follow along and smile in a re assuring friendly way.  I had no real idea what he was really thinking.  We talked more and he asked in my phone number was still the same.  In fact I have had the same number for many years, “Yep it sure is” I responded.

 He asked if I might be interested and going to the International Jewelry Show at Market hall the following Saturday.  He said he would text me the following day.   I thought it might be fun, but I knew I had some things I needed to finish before committing to an after noon.  He did invite me and I finally confirmed.  I thought it might be fun, even thought I had no idea what it was about.  Market Hall is in Dallas. This was a dazzling display of gems, jewelry, beads, accessories and minerals. For more than 44 years, the acclaimed International Gem and Jewelry Show has been bringing the largest selection of jewelry at the lowest prices to locations across the country. You can expect to find colored gemstones, exquisite fine jewelry, gold and silver earrings, necklaces and bracelets, beads and crystals, ethnic jewelry, classic pearls, vintage estate jewelry, rings, designer watches and one-of-a-kind seasonal pieces worldwide designers and manufacturers.  It was a great afternoon that first started with breakfast.  Then we ventured to the jewelry show.  The entire day we shared conversation and a love of bling.  I quickly learned to point out things that he might like.  He seemed to enjoy being with e as much as I was enjoying spending time with him.  I was out of my comfort zone, but was totally at ease.  Scott had even purchased jewelry at one of the vendors.  He put on the sterling rings and wore them home.  I had even given my approval on things he picked out. He was so nice to pick me up at my apartment, treat me to breakfast and drop me off after a afternoon together.  I had no idea what this after would mean at the time.  He smiled and I smiled back when he dropped me off in the afternoon.  I had a great afternoon. 

I got home and quickly I began to feel my mind begin to wander.  I text Scott and thanked him again for inviting my to the jewelry show. He had even surprised me with a gift.  He bought two matched bracelets and had given me one when I got out of the car.  I didn’t expect it, and it was a sweet gesture.  I knew I would wear it and think of our afternoon.  I tried to focus on house work.  It was not long before I text Scott again.  It was Saturday and it was one of the few times that I had no shows, or plans with friends.  I asked Scott if maybe he might want to go to the Roundup.  I knew Scott was fun to be with.  He responded “like a real date?”  I am not sure exactly what I said, but I was interested in having fun, and enjoying my Saturday night.  I text back ”I guess so, I just want to have fun.” What followed took my breath away. And I paused as I read it.  Scott expressed that he was fond of me and he enjoyed spending time with me as more than just a friend.  And he was open to dating me, if I felt the same.  I didn’t know what to think.  We were only friends; I was not looking for anything, except friendship. I had kissed enough frogs and had not found a prince. So I stopped and put my feeling in neutral.  I was done trying.  Why the hell would he want me?  I had been pushed aside for better, over looked and under appreciated by the wrong guys in the past.  No one  saw me as a good potential partner.  And here was my friend, telling me that he was interested in me.  I had put up many emotional walls.   Also I told my self to stop “wanting” any relationship ever again.  Little did I know that Scott had just pulled a brick from my ‘wall’ and it was about to come crashing down.  We made plans for the evening.  Scott and I had a great night at the Roundup that night.  Once again, he picked me up and we rode together to the club.  He was proving to be a gentleman.   I remember standing together and having my arm around his waist.  It was a moment that I will carry in my heart.  He was dressed nice and smelled good too.  I started to see my friend differently.  Me hugging him and sharing a kiss seemed so right.

Visually he is a sexy man and I was finding it hard to resist him.  I knew I was looking for more than the just the physical.   Other, lesser men had never made it past my front door.  I was not willing to jump into bed with anyone. At this point in my life, I was a Nun living alone in a convent.  At one point I had even prayed for God to take the love from my heart, so that I would not have to worry about what was missing in my life.  Scott had told me later that he was looking for true love not just a one night stand.  He wanted more too.  He had prayed to God for me.  Everything I was as a man was soon checked off of his list.  He felt he had found the man of his dreams too. (ME!)  He understood when I told him, I wanted to wait be fore we made love.  At times, I know I gave him mixed signals.  Touching his body was hard for me not to throw my caution to the wind and head to the bedroom.  But I held back because I was scared.  The physical attraction was there, but would he respect and love me in the way that I wanted?  Also could he handle all of my baggage, hang-ups and emotional walls?  The pain of my past, left deep wounds on my heart and it would take a special man to understand that. 

Scott and I began spending lots of time together.  We would bounce back and forth from his place and mine.  Each time, my feeling would grow stronger.  I was learning to trust him, and open up my heart again.  He charmed his way into my life with his honesty, understanding and caring nature.  I felt safe when I was with him and it was nice to have some one make the effort for me.  We were both at the right time in our lives.   If we had re connected months prior, I do not think it would have happened at all.  Scott and I continued to see each other, and I could tell in his eyes, that he loved me.  I was not ready to say it. I could feel it in my heart and it scared me.  I eventually had to let go and allow my self to say it out loud, if not I would risk losing the man of my dreams.   He told me he loved me before we ever made love, or had ever seen me naked.  It was obvious that the love was real and not clouded by just physical attraction.   I was enjoying the closeness, holding hands and passionate kisses.  The first time we made love was at my apartment.  He seemed to respond to my touch and in turn it excited me more.  Making love with Scott makes me feel special.  He cares about my needs and he makes me feel sexy and masculine.  He has also pushed me to explore new pleasures and let go of my own inhibitions that some times limit me.  He has taught me it is not be ashamed of my body.   The private moments with Scott are like nothing I have ever felt.

Scott and I in Dallas

There have been embarrassing moments, which only he knows about.  There have been arguments and heated discussions that we have had to work through. But I could never “un” love him.  I fell for him hard. I love him with all my heart.  Each thing we over come makes us a stronger couple. And he has pushed me to remain open and honest.  Also he is not afraid question my motives or what thought are going through my head some times.  Some times, I am in awe of my own hang-ups. I don’t think I will ever understand why he loves me so much, but he does.  I am thankful for every day we share and miss him when we are apart.   He and I are planning a future together and each has goals we want to accomplish.  These goals will affect both of our lives and we know it is important to work together if we are to obtain our goals.  That is what having an equal partner ship is about.  It is our life. Not just mine or not just his anymore.  The future is what we will make of it. 

some one I never met

I am going to tell you story about some one I never met.  He was someone’s partner, some one’s son and some ones brother and Some one’s friend.  He cam e int

o my life in a unique way.  And I still hold his memory. You may ask, how I could have memories of someone I have never met.  How could this person life become part of mine?  For the last 13 years I have been holding a piece of this person and held on to him so he would not be forgotten. I hope that now you, my reader will know some thing about him now too and he won’t be forgotten. 

Doug Philpot was a young man who died in 1994. He was only 28 years old.  He grew up in southern Oklahoma in a small town of Marlow.  He lived there with his parents and siblings and had family nearby including his grand parents.  Marlow is located east of Lawton Oklahoma.  He also had family in Wichita Falls. Doug was involved in theatre and even starred in local theatre productions while in high school.   In 1983 he graduated and join the US navy. I have Doug’s class ring in my jewelry box at home.    He would be stationed in San Diego CA for a few years.  He made friends easily and loved seeing the world.  While in the navy he met other gay men who became life long friends.  He had a best friend named Stewart.  California was a place where young men could enjoy being gay and times in the early eighties were exciting.  He enjoyed meeting other gay men, partying into the night and occasionally used drugs.  It was not uncommon for small town boys to venture to big cities and quickly become consumed by the freedom.  After his years n the Navy Doug,  lived with friends.  He managed to buy some antiques and furniture for his apartment.   He also loved mirrors and started a crystal collection.   But eventually the fun wore off and real life set in.  He would soon decided to move back to home.   So he packed up his things and moved back to Oklahoma.  He was 22. He attended a local beauty college and began working as  stylist.   He quickly found the small town of Marlow constricting. He ventured to the night life Wichita Falls.  He enjoyed going out the only gay bar in town and meeting other men like himself.  He had even tried dressing in drag for the first time.   He also met a man, who would become his lover.  I don’t know too many details about how they met.  That part of the story is lost by the two men who lived it.  It was 1987 and the gay community was devastated by the new AIDS epidemic.  Today people live for years while undergoing anti-vial treatments.  But in the late 80’s your long term options were not good.  Doug and GW would move in together in 1988. 

 Soon after, Doug was diagnosed with HIV.  He had found a partner, moved past all the immature and reckless behavior only to find out that he now faced a terminal illness. 

 Yes, his past was coming back to haunt him. GW was also tested, but he was negative.  For those who already know my life story you might have already  guessed, “GW” was my late partner, GW Wood.  Not many people  know that Doug was GW’s first love.  When I first met GW he lived alone and had been single for many years.  He lived in a house in Wichita Falls by himself and did not go out much. During his single years he put himself back in college and earned a bachelor in Social work.  He and I did not meet until 2000.  But back in 1988, his was new lover was Doug Philpot.  And for the most part, they were a good couple.  They worked hard and shared a life together. GW shared all these things with me so that I might be able to understand who he was and what he had lived through.  As a couple GW and Doug struggled financially but had seemed happy although they moved often.   GW and Doug even had a civil union ceremony at the local MCC church in 1992.  I have it on video at home.  I have watched once with an odd fascination about some one I had never met.  It was also odd to know so many of the friends I knew from back home, knew Doug Philpot years before I came out.  During the last few years of his life, Doug had become an advocate for HIV/Aids services and even volunteered at the local out reach center in Wichita Falls.  He also had been interviewed on a local television station about health services and testing.  He himself was battling the disease.  And he looked sick.  I have seen that interview too. GW was very honest with me about who Doug.  I sometimes felt like a replacement for the lover GW had lost.  He reassured me that Doug and I were very different people.  He felt lucky to find love again.   ( I can relate to that now)  Doug died in 1994  from the illness that he was trying hard to raise awareness.  I have seen pictures of him during his late stages.  They were very sad and almost scary.  I respected GW for sharing his life with Doug.  GW was his lover, caregiver and friend until the end.  I found comfort in this when it came time for me to care for GW before his death.  Yes, I was his lover, caregiver and friend until the end.  Most recently I have been trying to figure out what to do with some of Doug’s personal belonging.  YES, I still have them.  I kept them even after GW died over six years ago.  They became part of me. How could I discard them, as if Doug’s life didn’t matter?   I have a steamer trunk full of his memories.  I could not simply trash them.  That seems like such a horrible thing to do.  Each life is important even if it’s over.  I never met  Gerald “Douglas” Philpot, but his life touched mine.  He affected me in an indirect way.  I have tried to contact some one in his family. But keep running into dead ends.  His mother died in 2006 and his father in 2012.  They done even know that these objects even exist.  They were so ashamed that their son was gay, the cut him out of their life just before his death in 1994.  GW had no support and took care of him by himself and laid him to rest because he loved him.  I know now exactly what that feels like. I will continue my search for Doug’s family and hope some one will take and cherish these things that were once his. 

For Gerald "Douglas" Philpot  died 1994 Wichita Falls Texas      

   MY QUEST CONTINUES........

my dad

When I was a kid, my dad drank. He drank a lot. There were many times what my mom would have to go pick him up from city jail. He got arrested for DUI or public intoxication.  He would spend the night and “sleep it off” there. The he would be released.   Or if he drove, she would have to find someone to drive her to the bar in order to pick up the truck.  He would drink so much that often times, he would come home and argue and fight with my mom.  She tried hard to keep him quiet or defuse his angry rants.  She didn’t want us kids to hear them as the arguing escalated.  Sadly, we knew it was going on. I saw my father hit my mother, punch her or pull her hair on many nights.  He would also throw things, like the time he broke an ashtray that split my mothers lip.   My dad was mean and angry when he was drinking.  It scared me.  There had already been enough abuse by the hand of my father. He would hit us with his fist and beat us with his belt.   He would tease us until we cried or punish us for some behavior that he felt was wrong.  He would call us names and tell me, I was ugly or stupid.  Really I don’t know what I did wrong, only that if I made him mad enough he would lash out and hit me.  My mother would try to protect us and keep him from hitting us.  I think it made me very distant from my father.  I was never sure if he loved me.  I was just a weak kid, defenseless to protect myself.  I always felt like he blamed be for not being stronger like my brother.  I remember once, my dad took me, my brother and my sister to the cemetery on the edge of town. He was drunk and talked my mother into letting us go with him. Maybe she just assumed we were going for a quick ride or maybe to the store for cigarettes.  My dad was a pack a day smoker.   But my dad had other plans.  We were all barefoot and scared. I remember crying and trying not to sob.  I sat against the door of the truck and my brother stood on the seat. My sister was in the floor with her knees up and her arms hugging her legs. Her head was down.  I think she was sobbing too.   I was probably only about 4 years old.  It was late and dark on the moon lit up the road as we passed the overpass on the edge of town.  My dad made a left into the local cemetery. We passed through the metal gates. You approach the cemeteries from the highway; The Old Electra Cemetery is on the left side of the road. It is the first entrance that you come to on the left.

In a section behind the Old Electra Cemetery is the Dick Sparks Cemetery that was the black cemetery.  Even in 1979, the cemetery was segregated.   My dad smoked a cigarette and the glow cast a glow on his face.  He drove slowly to the back of the cemetery.  The road was mostly gravel with a grass growing between the compressed parallel paths of gravel.  My dad parked the truck on the narrow road and turned of the lights.  He rolled down the window to discard his still lit, butt of cigarette out the window.  He left the truck running.  My dad began to speak.  He told us not to interfere when he “talked” to my mother.  He felt that when adults were talking, the kids should stay out of it. He continued to lecture us, slurring his words and rambling on about what he felt like was a lack of respect.  He made no mention about the beating, yelling or punching that had left my mother in tears on the floor at home.   He wanted us to get out of the truck.  I sobbed more but it came out as a whimper of saliva and snot. I quickly wiped from my face with the sleeve of my shirt.  He told us to walk over to the white grave in the middle of the rows of head stones.  It was dark but you could see it.  It was bigger than the others.   He told my sister, to wait with us about an hour and then walk home.  This would be our punishment. We would have to walk home barefoot in the dark. I was confused.   I cried more and wanted  the whole nightmare to be over.  My brother held hands with my sister and I followed behind them.  We sat on the grass and I watched my father drive out of the cemetery.  How could he leave us there?  We huddled together and flinched at every sound.   I closed my eyes as I cried.  We sat there for what seems like hours.  My brother tried to talk to my sister, who the oldest.  She would quickly scold him for speaking.  Maybe she was afraid that my dad would some how hear us and become angry again, it would mean more punishment for us.  We had seen him drive away, but some how he always controlled what we did, how we acted and the fear of punishment was a constant threat.  This control was in our minds even when he was not around.  We finally got up the nerve to leave. My sobbing had subsided, but the fear of the dark and unknown grew as we walked the gravel road toward the iron gates of the cemetery. We finally reached the highway and walked along the edge of the pavement in a single file line.  My sister, then my brother and then me bringing up the rear and scared not to keep up.  We could see the lights of the overpass walked through the high grass and onto the concrete curbs.  We crossed under the overpass.  We could see the lights fro the neighborhood a few miles away.  Walking on the warm pavement was not as painful as rocks of the gravel roads of the cemetery.  There were no cars.  We proceeded cautiously down the side of the highway.  And we reached the first city street inside the city limits. My sister knew the way even in the dark. We continued all the way back to our house.  The kitchen light was still on.  My mother was outside, sitting on the back step crying.  She quickly wiped her eyes and hid her pain. Something she did a lot.  She hurried toward us and knelt down to embrace us.  We all began to cry. She kissed our foreheads and whispered prayers over us.  I know she must have been beside herself when my dad had retuned without us.  Apparently he had come back with the intent of confronting my mother again.  My mother had locked herself into the bathroom room until she was sure my dad passed out.  She then waited outside waiting for us to come home.