“Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Being a Titleholder (But Didn’t Know to Ask)”

• Are you thinking about competing for Seattle Leather Daddy/Seattle Daddy’s Boy later this month and have questions or need advice about the specifics of the contest? Or Northwest Bear and Cub?
• Are you thinking about possibly running for some other leather title in the future?
• Are you simply curious about why we have leather titles and what they are all about?

Join Northwest LeatherSIR 2010 Jim Drew and other Seattle titleholders this Thursday at the OutWest Leather Night in West Seattle from 7:30–8:30 and we will help demystify leather titles and help you decide whether they are something you might want to do.

This will be an informal “grab a beer and chat” session rather than a formal workshop setting.  We will have a second session in the next few days at a Capitol Hill location.

Alameda County Leather Contest • June 28–July 2

Back in the late 1990s, when I lived in San Mateo, CA, I started reaching out to have more than the haphazard leather community I had as a commuter into San Francisco (30 minutes each way).  There was no leather community in San Mateo county, so I ventured across the Bay to Hayward, where the Alameda County Leather Corps was based.

When I saw the call for contestants for this year’s ACLC contest earlier this year, I sent them an e-mail and offered to come down to be a judge for the contest.  My membership class included Andrew “Bootdog” Johnson (International Mr. Bootblack 2008) and Joan Norry (American Leatherwoman 2008), so there’s certainly something to be said for ACLC in the late 90s; I’m hoping to make it the latest big title for the class and the club.

As with IMsL in March/April, I flew down on Thursday and stayed until Monday, to work from the San Francisco office (and get reimbursement for some of the costs for the weekend).  With the contest in the East Bay (Hayward for the Meet & Greet, Oakland for the contest), I looked to stay in Oakland and checked out places close to both BART and walking distance to the contest site, ending up at the Washington Inn, right across from the Oakland Convention Center at about $90 pert night (including tax); easily $30 or more cheaper than staying in San Francisco would have been.

Meet & Greet

I took BART to Hayward and walked the few blocks to the World Famous Turf Club.  The Turf Club has changed locations in the past decade and Hayward has grown up so much in that part of town that I recognized nothing.  The Meet & Greet included dinner (salad, steak, potato, strawberry pie).  After introductions of the contestants (Christy Ford and Jay Williams) and the judges (myself, American Leatherwoman 2011 Trinity, Ms. World Leather 2001 Annie Romano, Ms. San Francisco Leather 2012 Miss Bethie Bee, and the first Mr. Alameda County Leather 1992(?) Mark McKee) and staff (tallymaster Mark Ingham, judges boy American Leatherboy 2011 Tyler Fong), we went upstairs for the judging.

Keeping with the sexplay focus of the LeatherSIR title, and having recently been the gay presenter at a pansexual leather conference, my first question was what they would teach at such a conference.  This was intended to make them think mostly about what they feel they are knowledgeable enough to teach, plus to put in play that potential unknown factor of teaching to a kinky straight audience.  The second question was what BDSM activities they did that would be “scary” enough to do at a perceived high-end queer play party, given that some people are reluctant to attend such because they don’t feel “scary” enough.

Contest

Saturday night, the walk to the contest venue (Humanist Hall) turned out to be longer than I expected, so I had to catch a taxi to be there in time… to hang around and wait.  After about an hour, the judges and some of the staff headed out to dinner at an Italian restaurant called Milano.  Once back at the venue, the contest flowed pretty well, although with only two contestants, there was an added break needed for a costume change.

There was also a decent sized silent auction.  San Francisco Leather Daddy 2009 Gauge Strongarm and I kept outbidding each other on a motorcycle jacket and riding gloves.  We eventually talked during a break and realized that he was more after the jacket and I was more after the gloves, so we made a deal to stop outbidding each other and split the win ($50 for the jacket, $30 for the gloves — Harley Davidson riding gloves with zip-off cuffs (can’t find an image online) for varying times of year).

The contest proceeded just fine.  The standout piece was Jay WIlliams’ fantasy, where a puppy with a cigar in his mouth led onto the stage trailing chains, followed by Jay in a major genderfuck leather outfit that looked like it was snatched from (leather Empress) Snatch’s closet: corset, long leather skirt open at the front, high heels (putting him at like 7'2"), and a high collar piece.  He lit the pup’s cigar, then took it for himself.  Very hot, and borderline disturbing.

Weekend Play

Fuck yes, I got some.

Friday afternoon, I played with a 24 year-old Australian surfer boy with small hands and a nice sized cock, which both fit quite nicely at the same time.  (A first for him.)

Friday night was a bust in two directions.  Foremost was the guy Alan I connected with off AssPig.  He talked a good story but when we got back to his place, he was incredibly scattered and unable to focus on actually getting down to play, so I eventually had him take me back to my hotel.  In the process, I had to turn down Bob, who has wanted to play with me for a while, and that offended him a bit.

Bob,

I’m sorry we didn’t get to play, but don’t go calling me a flake for standing you up.  An exchange of a few messages on Bear411 two months before the trip (and none since, and no other direct contact info for in between) where we say that yes, playing during the weekend would be a good thing does not constitute a date.  If we had set a specific night of the weekend, maybe — I was there for four nights, even if you were only available for one — but we didn’t set things that well.  Sorry, but I was neither an ass nor a flake.

Saturday afternoon, I ventured into San Francisco to play with Philippe, a furry bear from Paris.  We only had about 90 minutes to play before I had to head back to Oakland and him to the airport, but that bear had a hungry hole, eating up hands and cock.

After the contest, I had hoped to get into the City for the FistCity party, but by the time I walked back to the hotel and got ready, it was 11 pm.  Fortunately, I had a backup option: Sergio and José, whom I had played with back in March.  This time, I brought my own lube, remembering their penchant for using water-based hot lube(!).  I still didn’t take Sergio’s fucking huge hand, but José set a new depth record and made it past the second sphincter!  I slept at their place until about 7 am, when I could catch MUNI and BART back to Oakland, where I caught another 3 hours sleep and then had a mediocre dim sum buffet brunch.

Saturday afternoon, I went over to the home of Brad (whom I had played with at FistFest) and Gary (whom I had played with in April), to play with them and a fourth guy whose name I don’t recall now.  Brad and I started off with some hood play and mild CBT, and then into fisting.  After a while, we switched and Gary and I fucked and fisted.

Played out, I made it back to the hotel and collapsed into bed.  Worked the next day from the San Francisco office and made it home (with no plane delay this time)!

Dream Journal: June 30, 2012

Oh, dear.  Now I’ve started dreaming about the contest!

I was in a forested setting, apparently an outdoor camp with cabins, and it was International LeatherSIR contest weekend.  All the contestants were there, as were Sir Alan and Pup Nitro.  Everyone was bare-chested with towels in hand, going to or coming from morning showers.

The camp cabin concept was obviously left over from the presenter housing at Northern Exposure.

Why Do You Keep Competing in Leather Contests?

This isn’t an uncommon question for people to ask me.  Anyone who knows me in the leather community knows that I have competed in a few contests in the past (and won a couple).  Even then, they probably don’t realize how many I have actually been in.

Is there a world record for competing in the most leather contests?  If there is, I’m probably the record holder.  (Paging Dave Rhodes.)  Let me see, I think it’s 16 contests now…

• San Francisco Leatherboy (in 1998, I think)
• Mr. International Rubber 2000 (2nd runner-up, of 7)
• Mr. International Rubber 2001 (2nd runner-up, of 9)
• Seattle Leather Daddy 2002
• Seattle Leather Daddy 2004 (winner)
• American Leatherman 2005 (2nd runner-up, of 7)
• International Mr. Saliva 2006 (winner, of 5)
• Washington State Mr. Leather 2006
• Mr. West Coast Rubber 2007
• Washington State Mr. Leather 2008
• Washington State Mr. Leather 2009
• Mr. OutGames Leather 2009 (1st runner-up, of 5; in Copenhagen!)
• International Mr. Piss 2010
• Mr. Northwest Bear 2011 (runner-up, became Mr. Northwest Cub)
• Northwest LeatherSIR 2012 (winner)
• International LeatherSIR 2012 (coming up)

(You’ll forgive me if the years are off for some of the above.  Between “Just when did I run for that?” and contests run in year X being labelled as year X+1 [when they end], it can be hard to pin down the right number for a given contest.)

Yeah, that’s a lot of contests.  And in a community where few people ever run for a title and those who do and don’t win rarely try again, it’s a huge number of contests.

So why do it, and why do it again?

Each title contest is different, of course.  Some like the Saliva and Piss contests are purely for fun.  Rubber contests are somewhat different from leather contests, and likewise with the bear contests (“cub” doesn’t quite map to “boy”, to start with).  Some contests I’ve entered because I wanted the title.  Some because I wanted the prizes!  Some because I hate contests with only one contestant.  For Northwest LeatherSIR, it was because the outgoing titleholder asked me to run.

So there’s part of it.

But there’s another big piece that a lot of people don’t get (or don’t think about, anyway): beyond becoming a big name leather titleholder, adored by millions (well, dozens?), what else is the competition about?

I’ll give you a hint: I have also competed in country-western line dancing for about 8 years, and country couples for just over a year.  I’ve won a couple competitions there.  But no one in that world asks me “Why do you keep competing?”

Look at any Olympian athlete or beauty queen.  They don’t compete just one time.  They compete at various competitions at various levels.  It’s about honing your skills, learning what works, and about becoming the best you can be.  That doesn’t happen in one shot, it happens over months and years, over multiple contests.

So that’s the real reason I do it: to hone my skills and be the best I can be.

Of course, then the question arises: hone which skills and be the best you can be at what?  This is the core reason that a lot of people don’t understand leather contests.  They don’t see value.  They see people strutting across a stage in fancy or sleazy outfits, giving “speeches” which often don’t say much of anything, and maybe presenting fun (or boring) skits with fake BDSM in them.  Then they think of hot sex dressed in almost nothing, or a pup on a leash, or thrashing someone with a flogger, or the deep connection that happens with a fist embedded in someone’s ass, and they don’t see how the two worlds mesh.

What they miss is the “community”, the public face and shared ritual of leatherfolk.  All the hot sex in the world doesn’t make a community.  A community needs people beyond the one or two you are having sex with.  It needs shared experiences and public faces.  It needs group rituals.  And that, then, is the titleholder and the contest — the most public of faces and the most group of rituals.

The value in competing in multiple contests: honing my “be a public face” skills, being the best “public face” I can be.  That’s ultimately why I do it: because I see the value to the leather community in having quality men (and women) as our public face.

LURE (Portland) • April 28–29

I’ve increasingly been dreading this spring and summer, as I’ve looked ahead at my schedule for the year and seen almost every weekend booked.  In fact, from the end of March to early September, I will be attending/will have attended three leather contests, two rubber events, two country-western dance events, one bear event, five fisting parties, two Pride celebrations, two other leather weekends, and my international contest.  (And I’m not just attending these things: I’m judging one of those contests, presenting at one of the leather weekends, competing at one of the country-western dance weekends, host for three of the fisting parties, and on the organizing committee for four of the weekend events.)  Add in the weekend before the international contest for a contest walkthrough and my free Saturdays across 5-1/2 months become… April 28, May 12, and June 2.

So when Northwest Leatherboy Dan asked me to come down to Portland for the April LURE, I naturally said “Sure”.

(I’m writing this on May 27, which means I’m now down to one free Saturday until the end of summer.  Ugh.)

There…

While the ride up to Vancouver three weeks before had been a little too chilly, a few more weeks of spring made it a dandy ride down.  I left about 1 pm, rode I-5 all the way down, and got to the hotel (Courtyard by Marriott on Wasco; one of our former Northwest Leatherboy titleholders works there) which Dan had arranged in good time.  After a short nap, we went out to a nearby restaurant for dinner, came back and changed to go out to the Portland Eagle. LURE (Leather Uniform Rubber Etc.) is the Eagle’s 4th Friday leather event, typically hosted by the current Mr. Oregon State Leather (Tarsus, in this case).  They usually have themes attached, and this was the annual Battle of the Village People night, which included a Village People costume contest.  Andy Mangels started this Village People event during his title year, as I recall.

What to wear for the contest?  Hmm.  Ah, of course: Western attire as the cowboy — brown cowboy boots, brown chaps, brown vest, bandana around the neck, and brown cowboy hat.  The brown vest is actually my Mr. Northwest Cub vest from last year, which meant I didn’t wear my current title vest out to the event, although I did wear it as motorcycle colors on the trip down.

(Hmm, as I write this, International Mr. Leather has probably just finished.  Looks like Washington State Mr. Leather was in the top 20, and Oregon State Bootblack Nick won the International Mr. Bootblack competition.  You go, Nick!  I wasn’t at IML because the International Association of Gay/Lesbian Country Western Dance Clubs convention was in New Orleans this weekend.  More on that in a future post.) 

I ended up winning the costume contest, and the prize was a small original oil painting by Tarsus, of a harnessed leatherman.  A very nice prize, and just the right size to fit in the bike trunk. 

After the contest, I connected with a couple guys from Beaverton (a Portland suburb) for a play session, getting back to the hotel late.

And Back Again

Dan and I went out to breakfast at The Roxy Diner in the morning, before I left for home.  We had the chance to talk about ideas for the contest fantasy and demo, although I had bad info about the demo and have since had to start replanning it.  Sigh. 

On the trip north, I decided to take the (longer) scenic route: first out to the town of St. Helens and across the Columbia at Longview, and later leaving I-5 north of Centralia and going around the east side of Olympia, Joint Base Lewis/McChord, and Tacoma, coming up through Spanaway and up 167 to the south end of Seattle.  I ended up with absolutely killer gas mileage doing this — 58 or so going down, but over 74 mpg coming back!
Unfortunately, “killer” has its downside, I guess.  I was either too tired from the night before or spent too long on the bike in not quite warm enough weather, and when I got home, I had a major case of the chills.  I turned up the heat in the house and literally sat on the heater vent for 15 minutes. 

Of course I knew what this meant: my bronchitis was going to come back.  (Or “bronchitis”, anyway.  One doctor didn’t think it was actually that, but some other recurring bacterial lung infection.  Close enough.)  I used to get this one to four times a year since the early 1990s, usually when I got stupid: tired and overheated and dealt with weather too cool for what I was wearing — usually brought on in spring or fall by leaving the dance bar in a heavy sweat, or sleeping with the window open and having a temperature drop over night. 

Sure enough, in the next few days, I started to cough and hack up phlegm and all the stuff you don’t want to read about here.  After two rounds of my homemade antibiotics (onion-infused honey, nasty stuff but it works as well as a Z-Pak), it seems to have finally cleared in the last few days.  Wasn’t as hard of a cough as I’ve had before — only felt like being hit in the chest by a plastic baseball bat, not a wooden one — but a bummer because this was my first bout of it in maybe two years.  I was beginning to think maybe I had cleared it from my system.  Apparently not, although I’ll point to the scooter as likely reducing it in general by improving my posture and exposing me better to outdoor temperatures year round.

West Coast Rubber 2012 • February 24–26

This is the 8th year for West Coast Rubber.  I attended the inaugural one in 2005 in Palm Springs, on the weekend Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans.  (With the 100+ degree heat making us sweat profusely, draining into rubber shirts and shorts and releasing ounces, even cups of liquid at a time, there were now-tasteless jokes about “breaching the levee”.)  I attended again in 2006, but after that, they moved it to Los Angeles, a city that doesn’t hold any attraction for me as a destination place, so I didn’t keep going.  I decided to go again in 2010, to reconnect with my rubber roots, and I had an okay time, although there was still no attraction for me to go to L.A.  (Read about that trip here.)  Now, though, they have moved it back to Palm Springs, and to February, where temps will top out at only about 82 degrees (“Heaven” for those of us from colder climates, in other words!).  I’m totally there!

My Rubber Roots

I first got into rubber in 1997 or so, after dating a guy who had some (but never wore it while we were dating).  I bought a rubber shirt from Mr. S at IML that year, and acquired a whole crapload of rubber attire and gear over the next several years.

In 1998 (I think), I competed for San Francisco Leather Daddy’s Boy, but wore rubber for the contest, and was later advised that that may have had an effect on me not winning.  In November 1999, though, I competed for Mr. International Rubber (2nd runner-up).  I then became a charter member of Rubber Men of San Francisco Bay (and designed the logos they used for years), and had them sponsor me to compete for International again in 2000 (2nd runner-up again, with a larger contestant field).

After moving to Seattle, I continued to attend (but not compete) for MIR for several years, including one year that I was suffering from Hep B the entire time, not aware of why I was sick until I got home.  I also started attending Rubbout in Vancouver (before I moved to Seattle, in fact, and it was he return drive to Seattle that convinced me to move from California), and have only missed one year of it since then.

Leather titles and a live-in relationship (with a live-in teenager) put a damper on my rubber time, but it has never been far from my heart, and I’m trying to recapture some of it these days.  This year is partially a good time for this, because while Northwest LeatherSIR is technically a “leather” title, it is a play title and embraces the play activities which work well/better/best/only in rubber as much as those which are best in leather (or in nothing at all).

Thursday

For this trip, I decided to take my portable sling.  My friend Bill recommended a rolling long bag for such (almost a golf club bag), and I found one from Coleman at the local Ross store.  Unfortunately, the bag itself is heavy enough that I couldn’t take the new frame, only the old one, and even then, the cross pieces, sling, and tie downs (a recommendation from my friend Matt, rather than chains) had to go in my carry-on to keep the bag just under 50 lbs.  But it is indeed much easier to transport.  And since the sling poles only fill the bottom compartment, I could put my nasty heavy carry-on in the top compartment to make transporting it also easier.

D. came over on Thursday night and helped me paw through my rubber, to figure out what I would take.  As usual, I took more than I ended up actually wearing, but really that was only a pair of shorts and a couple shirts more than needed, so not too bad.  Still, with the sling pieces as well as plenty of rubber, that carry-on was heavy.

D. also got the chance to try on some of my rubber.  Poof: instant rubber boy!  He took right to the latex and the Nasty Pig stuff (nice to have non-leather options for him), and I also took the opportunity to put him in the new neoprene hood and cuffs, use the rubber floggers on him, and so forth.

Friday

The trip to the airport and the flight were uneventful, except for the hard, hard landing in Long Beach.  I did discover another thing I don’t recommend people do: don’t watch episodes of Pan Am (featuring the glories of 1960s air travel) while flying on modern aircraft.

West Coast Rubber had all of Camp Palm Springs reserved (about 40 rooms).  This was the first time I’ve stayed there.  It was fine — a bit “dumpy”, but not out of the range of either what is acceptable or where I’ve stayed on previous trips.  The pillows were not comfortable, though, and the DVD player in my room wouldn’t play any of the DVDs they had for check out.  (Probably needs cleaning badly.)

I went down to Gear and bought a neoprene swimsuit/jock with the ass cut out.  Matthew was working that day (the same hunky hair guy I mentioned with the previous Palm Springs trip).

Friday night was a Meet & Greet and then a play party.  While there was a good crowd for the former, most guys didn’t hang around or didn’t play much.  Had a little fun, but only a little (just rub, wank, and suck).

Saturday

I tried to go to Sherman’s Deli for breakfast, but much of downtown Palm Springs was shut down for a parade.  Not sure if it was for Modernism Week or something else (someone said Black History Month, which is in February, so maybe).  Once I got to Sherman’s, there was a line out the door, so I went north to Rick’s Restaurant instead.  Also with a line out the door, but I was by myself, so I got immediate seating at the counter.  (I remember as a kid, I always wanted to sit at the counter at diners, but we never got to but maybe once or twice.  It still always feel like a cross between exotic and trucker.)  Catfish and eggs was the special that enticed me.  Online later, I got hit on by two guys who saw me (and my red hanky) during breakfast.

On Saturday, we had a BBQ and pool party.  Nice and relaxing, and rubber boys do like being in the pool in their rubber.  (Leather boys in their leather, not so much.)

At 5 pm, we had a rubber dinner in gear at Trio, with about 35 of us at four tables.  They had to move the reservation up from 6 pm because the restaurant was sold out later, due to Modernism Week, I think.  I gave a ride to some of the Vancouver boys, but getting them in their gear, shined up, and out the door was like herding cats.  Slicked up cats.  We were almost the last to arrive as a result.  While we were waiting, though, Paul from Vancouver took a couple nice pics of me in my rubber, which will be my cruise site profile pic for the next few months.

On the way back to my car, we chanced upon a gallery storefront featuring work by the artist SHAG.  It only took me a moment to connect the name and art style to an artist Cliff had told me about who does a lot of retro-styled modern tiki work.  We had to go in.  The gallery owner (I assume) got a kick out of having rubber guys in the store and after I took this pic of Reid (Mr. West Coast Rubber), he took one of the four of us with the big wall tiki.

After dinner, there was supposed to be the Mr. West Coast Rubber contest and then a play party, but apparently there were no contestants.  For a weekend like this, while unfortunate, that isn’t fatal.  Most of the guys attending are happy to have a contest, but we aren’t coming just for one.  So the contest got replaced by a bar crawl.

This was fine with me.  I had received an invite on Manhunt to a cocktail party where I would told some of the Desert Fetish Authority guys would be.  I asked him about dress code for it, but never heard back, so I went in rubber chaps, neoprene harness, and title vest.

While some of the DFA guys were likely in attendance, it was not a leathermen’s cocktail party.  Other than a couple guys in leather pants with their casual attire shirts, I was the only one in leather (rubber, etc.), and doubly so the only one with no shirt and his ass hanging out.  Social faux pas?  Perhaps.  But I remembered one of the things I was told two decades ago in San Francisco: “While some people may look askance at you for attending the opera in your leather pants, vests, and tux shirt, remember that what you’re wearing probably cost as much as what they’re wearing.”  So given the choice between turning tail or just acting like I belonged there, I chose the latter.

There were of course several leather guys there.  Eric, whom I played with on the last trip, was happy to see me, and he introduced me to a few other people.  I got the chance to explain some hanky code basics to a couple guys, including the idea that you can flag whatever hanky or stripe on your chaps or what not that you like, even if you aren’t into fisting or piss or whichever activity the color “means”, but what you can’t do (better not do) is either be unaware of the message you are sending with what you are displaying or be offended when someone makes the obvious assumption.

Ken and Bob (?), the owners of Gear were there, and Matthew was tending bar.  Curtis, one of the hosts and the guy who invited me, is an old acquaintance from square dancing in the Bay Area in the 1990s; we hadn’t even seen each other for 15 years until a chance meeting at Chaps Inn on my last trip.  Randy, another square dance friend from the Bay Area, was also there, as was John, who recognized me from my days at Adobe Systems in the 90s.  (I guess my looks haven’t changed a whole lot.)  There were also a couple transplants from Montréal, one a former titleholder and the other one of the founders of Club Bolo whom I knew just barely through IAGLCWDC channels.

After leaving the party, I headed to the Barracks in Cathedral City, expecting to meet up with the rubber boys, but it was pretty empty.  I did chat with Red, one of the security guys, who said that they get some undercover cops in on Sundays, looking for ways and reasons to shut the bar down.  (Never mind the large amount of slosh-over income that restaurants and such in the area get from it, it has gays having a good time, and that must be stopped!  “Watchdog has spoken!”)

Over at the Tool Shed, I found the rubber boys just hadn’t made it past there.  And since it was hopping there, no wonder!  After a couple beers, I headed back to the resort, running into Alex and Flip from Seattle.  Flip had a piece of art in the Erotic Art Expo that was being displayed at the Tool Shed.

I also got to see my buddy John, who has become a regular play buddy each time I come to town.

Sunday

Sunday morning, after playing until 3:30 am, I dragged my ass out of bed and down to Lulu California Bistro for brunch with the rubber guys, about 16 of us I think.  Lulu is huge inside and looks like it turns into a nightclub at night.  The menu is vast, and the food was pretty good (and abundant, 1/4 of my croissant sandwich came back to the resort with me to join some leftover catfish from the day before; they would be dinner later on).

After brunch, had an hour’s phone call with my co-chair for the upcoming Emerald City Hoedown, talking schedule details and the like.  Another pool party was on Sunday afternoon, smaller.  I ended up with a small sunburn, which made it hard to get up from a later nap.  Hied myself out to the Barracks, though.  Again ran into last year’s California LeatherSIR, Todd.  Also swapped some kisses and fondles with Mark, Kevin, and Daniel; the latter had been at the cocktail party the night before.  And with another Mark and Dino.  I also fielded a phone call about eventual ownership of the Northwest title sashes (GLPW owns them, but they aren’t the title producers any more, so what to do with them now?).

I stopped back at the Tool Shed and met up with Mark and Dino again, and then back to the resort where I had a play session with a hot guy named Rick.

The weather dropped more than 10 degrees Sunday night and a huge wind storm came through — very loud and cold.

Monday

Today I got to Sherman’s for breakfast.

Packing up, I passed a partial bottle of Bushmill’s whiskey on to one of the guys who drove out from Los Angeles, and passed some beer and unopened Crisco sticks on to other guys still around who might use them.  I knew I didn’t have weight to spare in my sling bag to take stuff, nor could I take them in the carry-on.

Sporting pins on my vest for events I’ve been to and this my second trip to Palm Springs with the title, I wanted to get a Palm Springs pin.  Q Trading Post had none (but I picked up a bear paw pin there), but I found some generic Palm Springs pins at Rite-Aid; better than nothing.  (I’ve debated snagging the PSLOD pin from my Mr. Northwest Cub vest, the one John gave me last summer; I may still do that as well.)

The wind had definitely heralded a change in the weather, with rain squalls all the way to Long Beach.  I had looked at options for renting a motorcycle or scooter for this trip; I would love to do the ride to Palm Springs on one, but they are prohibitively expensive.  (Obviously, I would not have brought the sling in that case!)  Sure glad I wasn’t on one coming back in the rain.

I do like flying in and out of Long Beach airport.  While they are expanding the airport now, it is still pretty darn small, so the walk from rental car return to ticket counter to gate is the equivalent of about a block.  I was struck at the airport that I always want to add letters to their abbreviation, though: LGB?  No, LGBTQ!

Mr. & Ms. Alameda County Leather Contest

I've been invited to judge the Alameda County Leather Corps contest in Hayward, CA at the end of June:

Mr. & Ms. Alameda County Leather 2012 Fri. June 29 and Sat June 30th The meet and Greet for the 21st Mr. & Ms. Alameda County Leather contest will be held at the World Famous Turf club Fri. June 29th starting at 6:30pm with a bbq and meet the contestants. Sat. June 30th continues with the Mr. & Ms. Alameda County title contest at the Humanists Hall in Oakland CA. Our judging panel for this year includes  The first Mr. Alameda County Leather Mark McKee, American LeatherWoman 2011 Trinity, Miss San Francisco Leather Bethie Bee, Northwest Leather Sir Jim Drew and Ms. World Leather 2001 Annie Romano. American Leatherboy Tyler will be judges boy and Mr. Alameda County Leather 1999 Mark Ingham will be tally master. Application attached and tickets availible soon.

Technically, I invited them to invite me.  When their first call for contestants went out in January, I sent them the offer to come down and be a judge for the contest.

Alameda County Leather Corps holds a place in my heart and my leather history, you see.  They were the first leather club I was a member of.  In the late 1990s, I lived in San Mateo (across the Bay from Hayward), a community with (to my knowledge) nothing to speak of in terms of a gay community, much less a leather one.  In the early 1990s, I had live further south, in San José and Sunnyvale, so despite doing most of my playing in San Francisco, I still felt my roots were or should be more toward the peninsula and the South Bay.  With the Brotherhood in San José not formed yet, Alameda County Leather Corps was my only option.

I really don't recommend trying to cross the San Mateo or Dumbarton bridges at late rush hour to get to 7:00 meetings.

There were four of us, I think, in my “class” when I joined, two of whom were Andrew “Bootdog” Johnson (International Mr. Bootblack 2008) and Joan Norry (American Leatherwoman 2008).  ACLC raises ’em right, let me tell you.

Contest Speech

Here is the rough text of my contest speech.  I don’t have a recording or notes, so I’ve rewritten it from memory:

(enter stage with an iPhone in hand)

You know, these things have really allowed us to re-invent cruising.

It used to be that we would go to the bar, hang out in a dark corner, and peer at guys across the room, hoping one of them would want to talk to us.  Then came the Internet, and we could stay at home in our pajamas and peer at pictures of guys online, hoping one of them would want to talk to us.  Now, though, we can go back to the bar, hang out in a dark corner, and peer peer at pictures of guys online…

Well, the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Still, for all the advances these things have given us, sometimes we run into problems.  A few months ago, Grindr deleted my profile text for being too naughty or something.  So I’ve done an end-run on them and now I list my hanky colors in my profile instead.

Flagging a hanky has always been an invitation to conversation, and I get more responses than I expected:

• “Does anyone still use the hanky code” — well, obviously I do!
• “What do all those colors mean?” — I send them to Google to learn more
• “I know red and gray, but what is peach?  Or mustard?” — these are the guys I can educate a little
• And then I get “I flag red, too!  Mine’s on the left.” — and well, you know how things go from there

In other words, sometimes the oldest, tried-and-true cruising methods are still ones which can work just fine today.

Photo © 2011 Malixe Photo, used by permission.

Photos from the Contest

I’m finally able to post some pics from the contest.  These photos are © 2011 Malixe Photo, used by permission.  (Thanks, Charlie, and thanks for taking great pics!)  Separate posts will have pics from the Speech and Fantasy portions of the contest.

Friday Meet & Greet The vest is a custom one from X-Rated Leather in Copenhagen, which I won as 1st Runner-Up for Mr. Outgames Leather in 2009.	Introduction of Contestants I opted for a very informal look for this, since it was both a non-judged segment and I had to change immediately for the Fantasy portion.
Jockstrap Asked on stage about my ass tats, I said they are based on the superhero Lightning Lad.  All my tats come from the Legion of Super-Heroes.	Jockstrap (rearview) You may notice a design similarity between the ass tats and the Outgames vest.  The vest has the lightning motif repeated large on the back.
Final Winners Ruin, Danny, and myself.  The color combination — red, white, and blue — was completely coincidental.

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Updated on February 24, 2015:

Pussied-out the naughty bits on a pic to try and keep Google from blocking the blog.

Horoscope for the Contest Weekend

The day after the contest, I got to see a copy of the Seattle Gay News and read my horoscope for the week (they carry Jack Fertig’s QScopes).  I’ve never put any faith in horoscopes, and especially not in newspaper horoscopes, since even if astrology had any validity, newspaper ones would be covering all people born across 30 days.  So at best, a horoscope column will be applicable to your day of the month one time in 30, and to you personally something way less than that.

Still, now and then one turns up that makes you wonder…

VIRGO (August 23 – September 22): As naughty fantasies come up inside your head, explore them safely there.  Putting them into reality could be delicious, but be very, very careful!  Whether you explore them in theory or practice, you can learn a lot about yourself.

Leather Contests and Food Poisoning Don’t Mix

Early Saturday morning, I woke up at dawn with a nasty pain in my stomach.  After fitfully not quite sleeping for the next two hours, I finally got up and headed to make coffee.  Before I could get to the kitchen, I stopped by the bathroom and dry heaved over the toilet bowl.  Nothing came up, but I could taste the remnants of the salad from dinner the night before.  I instantly knew I was probably dealing with food poisoning, likely from not properly washing the farmer’s market salad mix.  (Dumb.)

Once I felt a bit better, I had coffee and a light breakfast, then headed to get dressed and head out for the Contest Interviews.  Before I could get to the bedroom, I stopped by the bathroom and wet heaved up my coffee and breakfast.  Not the best start for the day.

(I can’t think when the last time I puked was.  Well, from being sick.  Every couple years, I hit my gag reflex while sucking dick, but that’s a different scenario.  And with a whole lot less volume.)

(Oh, and for what it’s worth, this was definitely not caused by contest anxiety.  Between teaching country dancing — to over a hundred people at a shot at one event each year — and past leather and dance competitions, anxiety to the point of vomiting is not a problem I have.  I used to get nosebleeds form anxiety, but even that ended nearly 20 years ago.)

No further vomiting for the rest of the day, but very low energy (too little sleep and no food do that!), plus a low fever, diarrhea, and the accordant dehydration.  After a nap, I ate a peach and tried to have phở for dinner, but only managed to eat maybe a cup or so of it — no appetite.  But the show must go on, so I kept going.  I made it through the Contest, probably mostly on adrenaline, and put in appearances at the queer play party at the Center for Sex-Positive Culture and at the private one for the contest, but I sure wasn’t up for playing.

Sunday was only moderately better — poor sleep, no vomiting, same symptoms .  After the Victory Brunch and getting fitted for my title vest, I rode out to Lake Cushman (via Olympia; 100 miles, a bit over two hours ride).  Monday (riding back to Seattle) and Tuesday (back to work) saw gradual continued improvement, but still lousy sleep and gastric distress.  I was finally able to get some yogurt late on Monday afternoon, and started hitting Immodium at 3 am on Tuesday.  Now Wednesday night, I seem to be 90% back to normal.  Thank God.

Mostly back to normal except for the constant low-level cramp in my left thigh and calf all day Wednesday and Thursday, that is.  Vomiting causes potassium deficiency; a couple bananas seem to have resolved this.  I also don’t recommend food poisoning as a weight loss technique.  There have got to be more pleasant ways to drop 3–4 pounds.

I’m sure there’s a level of irony in this, to have my title contest Fantasy be a raunchy foodplay scene and me be fighting food poisoning at the same time.

Updated on September 8, 2011
Updated on September 13, 2011

Regional and International LeatherSIR Families

Standing: International Community Bootblack 2011 Luna, Northwest Community Bootblack 2012 Ruin, International LeatherSIR 2011 Alan Penrod, Northwest LeatherSIR 2012 Jim Drew

Kneeling: International Leatherboy 2011 Pup Nitro, Northwest Leatherboy 2012 danny Carpenter

(Photo © 2011 Malixe Photo)