Review: The Leatherman’s Protocol Handbook

Yes, it’s true.  I have read that book.  The one panned so severely by Guy Baldwin and others.  (I did not buy it, though.  Someone who shall remain unnamed bit the bullet and loaned his copy to me.)

Reviews on Amazon

Guy Baldwin on Leatherati


Jeffrey Payne on Leatherati


More from Jeffrey Payne on Leatherati


John Weal’s response on Leatherati

On some level, I am glad I read the book, because now I can put the comments of Baldwin, Jeffrey Payne, Patrick Mulcahey, and others into better context.  And it turns out that the big hulabaloo is really focused mostly on a single chapter, enhanced by author John D.  Weal’s reaction to people’s comments and unwillingness or inability to defend what he claims to be factual.

I came into leather in the early 1990s in the San Francisco Bay Area.  That was the height of the AIDS epidemic, before much of anything but AZT was around as treatment.  Much of the generation of leathermen who would be lost was already gone, and their history and knowledge with them.  I largely had to self-teach myself about leather protocols across that decade, picking up bits here and there from individual leathermen, learning by observation in leather bars, and picking up info where I could from books and magazines.  When Weal goes into detail about clothing styles and guidelines, dungeon rules, high and low protocol, I recognize large portions of this as things I learned in my early years, and thus anything which falls into realms I had no connection with, I can accept as likely valid (at least to the degree Weal experienced it).  (Although some of what is listed remains bizarre: a boy would not be allowed to use the toilet seat?).  And thus, I see good value in some portions of this book.  (But not that one chapter, which admittedly casts a shadow on any other parts I cannot independently validate.)

But let’s get one thing out of the way: this is not a good book, overall.  The content of the one controversial chapter aside, is not generally a well written book, nor a well edited one, nor a well focused one.  There is little narrative through line.  Some chapters wander all over the map.  Some concepts are introduced as though the reader should know them, only to be defined pages or even chapters later.  This book needs not just an editor, it needs a producer: someone able to establish direction and make sure that a viable product comes out the other side.

Just to pick on one aspect, Weal’s own timeline is inconsistent throughout the book.  At one point, he says he was collared by his master in 1968, but his bio says he has been “actively involved with the BDSM Lifestyle for Over 35 years” [caps per the bio], which would put his collaring around 1975 (the book was published in 2010).  And thus when he speaks of the ways of the Council, or delineates protocols for boys, just which decade he means becomes even more hazy: is this now, is it the 1970s, is it the 1950s (which he was only told about by his master)?  Every time the reader encounters a head-scratcher like these, he loses faith in the rest of the content.

Weal’s writing is also mangled by his need for continual completeness in terminology, forcing him to use “Master/Sir” and “boy/boi/submissive/slave” throughout.  When those phrases show up multiple times each in a single paragraph, the brain starts to drop out entire sentences.  The need to list all the possibilities every time prevents his message from coming through.

I was always taught to try and find something good to say about anything I review, since the writer put a lot of effort into the writing, and someone somewhere thought it was good enough to actually publish and release the work.  So here goes: the germ of a couple truly interesting books does exist in here.  First, Weal could put together a book of history and stories about the early leather scene as he knew it and as was related to him by those he knew; he might have to fictionalize some of it, change the names and such, but a lot of valid insight into how things were in the circles he had access to could still come through such a book.  Second, while there is doubt shed on the accuracy of many things Weal says about “Old Guard” practices — and common wisdom says that many rituals and protocols were highly regional and even individual — an analytic comparison of “Old Guard” practices with how those things are handled and performed today could be interesting, marking how our leather society has changed (and where it has not).

But I have no belief that either of those books are ones Weal is willing or able to produce.

Riding the Bike

When I tell people I ride a “scooter”, they usually think of this:



When what I ride is this:



Not quite the same thing, eh?

A “scooter” is simply another form of a motorcycle, not particularly any more different from a standard cruiser style than a “lean forward” crotch rocket sport bike is.  Scooters are usually on the lower end of the power spectrum — the smaller ones are intended for in-city commutes, mostly — and they have a floorboard, so you usually sit upright.  Most scooters are also automatic transmission, and they usually have under-seat storage.

Mine is a Kymco Downtown 300i — at 300 cc, one of the more powerful scooters.  (Kymco is a Taiwanese company.  They also make engine parts for Vespa and BMW.) I have had this one for a little over a year (since April 2011), replacing my previous Kymco People S 125 which I had ridden for the previous 3 years.  When I upgraded to the Downtown, I stuck with a brand I knew and trusted.

When people hear that I ride a “scooter”, they picture me putt-putting along at 25 mph on city streets, doing short trips of a couple miles max.

In 15 months, I have put just short of 10,000 miles on my Downtown, with over 15,000 miles on the People S before it.  It is my primary commute vehicle — my only vehicle until the car gets some cooling system repairs — 5 miles each way including segments on the freeway, in traffic.  I ride year round, in everything from sun to pouring rain; only the threat of snow keeps me off it.

(Oh, and thunderstorms.  Lightning and motorcycles don’t seem to be a smart mix.  We usually have none of these a year in Seattle, but the morning after I wrote this post, we had our fourth one in two weeks.  And I delayed going into work until it passed.)

I have ridden my Downtown on hours-long trips to Portland, Vancouver, and Richland — the last being 4 hours each way with a rest break (which is where that pic was taken), including a mountain pass — at highway speeds, topping it out at 90 mph.  (Shh, don’t tell the cops.)  With the trunk, the space under the seat, and a bag strapped behind me, I can carry enough luggage (including my leathers) for a long weekend trip.  I can also carry my inflatable kayak (uninflated, of course) on it.  Or a dog cage suitable for puppy play.

I get as high at 74 mpg in cool weather.  I can almost always find a parking space, and parking in the downtown garages is just $5 for the day, usually with a space for me on the first level of the garage.  And insurance is $100 for the entire year.

So please feel free to sneer a little when you hear I ride a “scooter”.  I’ll do the same when I hear you complain about gas and parking and insurance prices for your car, or when I see you get your own motorcycle out only on the sunny days in Seattle (all 14 of them each year).  Even a “scooter” motorcycle beats one that doesn’t get ridden or one that doesn’t even exist.

Oh, and I’ll see you at Folsom in September.  I plan to ride down, over 800 miles each way.  On my “scooter”. 

Northern Exposure 3.0 (Anchorage) • June 14–18

GUSH!

I guess I need to say more that that, huh?  Okay: I had a great time at Northern Exposure, exceeding my expectations!

Northwest region for International LeatherSIR has a huge territory to cover — Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana, and Alaska — and much of it very sparsely populated.  There isn’t much that you could call a gay leather scene out of the Seattle-to-Portland corridor (no leather bars in Missoula, Montana, sorry to say), so it is difficult to really cover the region as a leather titleholder.  There are a couple small fisting weekends in Eastern Washington, though.  And a pansexual leather conference in Alaska.

I knew vaguely of Northern Exposure in Anchorage because of arrangements made for last year’s Northwest Community Bootblack Dylan to travel up to the event.  So when the call for presenters went out, I sent in five proposals: Play Party Etiquette, How to Throw a Play Party, Online Cruising, Engaging a Club and Its Board, and Fisting.  (Yes, all over the map.  Not knowing just what they were looking for — more sex or more organizational — I wanted to provide a variety of options for them to choose from.

It took a long, long time to get things settled.  I had communication that they wanted me to come, but it wasn’t until after all the other presenters’ bios and classes were posted online that we got my stuff settled.  (As the head organizer, Sarha’s time was stolen for the first part of the year getting ready to compete at IMsL.)  I don’t know if this was my lack of experience in being a traveling presenter (this was only my second such; I previously did a rubber workshop for KCLU (now defunct) in Kansas City) or added uncertainly on how to handle a gay presenter at a pan event, but it was frustrating.  Eventually all got dealt with, of course, and I had enough miles on Alaska Airlines to cover the ticket (which would be pretty expensive otherwise, even from Seattle).

Thursday

I flew in on Thursday, getting in about noon.  About the time I got to the Seattle airport, it occurred to me that this was one of the few trips I have taken in recent years to somewhere new, somewhere I haven’t been as an adult.  The last trip like that would have been to Madison in October 2010, and before that were overseas trips to New Zealand, Amsterdam/Copenhagen/Berlin, and Ireland.  Alaska is one of only a handful of states I had never visited before (with Hawai’i, Alabama, West Virginia, Delaware, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine), and there aren’t many metro areas in North America I haven’t been to at least once.

I met one of the other presenters at the airport — Dr. Clockwork, who sells violet wands.  While someone from Northern Exposure was supposed to meet us, no one was there.  I had rented a car, so I went off to get it and left my contact info with Doc in case he felt stranded.  I headed to downtown, but stopped off at Alaska Leather (a motorcycle leathers shop) and ate at Angeline’s Philippine Cuisine.

In town, I scoped out where the gay bars are — Mad Myrna’s, The Raven, and Kodiak — and then headed for the downtown tourist area.  That part of town is loaded with tourist shops, each of them having 80% the same stuff as all the others, of course.  I bought the requisite Alaska t-shirt (with a moose on it), a pair of bed shorts (red with mooses on them), and a necklace with a bear paw (not a moose!) carved on some Alaska mineral that looks like hematite.

I then headed out to the west end of town, to Earthquake Park.  Alaska suffered a major earthquake in 1964 which destroyed a couple major ports and severely damaged the Alaskan economy — and launched a tsumani which was seen in San Francisco and actually caused major damage in Crescent City, Oregon.  Earthquake Park overlooks part of the landscape which collapsed, dropping a bluff a couple hundred feet.

At The Raven, there was a “potlatch” — a small potluck in this case — and the welcome meet and greet for the weekend, with the introduction of most of the presenters.  The amount of food wasn’t quite enough for me, so I went next door to a hamburger place.  Later on, I was definitely fading, so I got directions to where the presenters were being housed, some cabins on Beech Lake, about 30 minutes north of Anchorage, and I head out there ahead of people.

When I got there and got into the first cabin, I was dismayed: bare except for a couple cots and an unlit wood stove.  Fortunately, I found the main cabin, which had futons, heat, a bathroom, and a kitchen.  I found a couple blankets and snuggled under them, working on blog posts, and was just about to doze off when others arrived, including some of the Northern Exposure crew with bedding.  Suddenly things were much more tolerable!  about half of use stayed in the main cabin, and others got fires started and stayed in the smaller ones.

Friday

On Friday, I took a couple of the workshops, including Dr.  Clockwork’s on “Violet Wands: Basics & Beyond” and Big Bad Jim’s on “How to Beat the Crap Out of Someone”.  The latter of these gave me a few ideas to use during flogging and bondage scenes regarding hitting someone with body parts other than hands and feet.

I also did my first workshop, on “Play Parties: How to Go and How to Throw”.  I first did a version of this a year and a half ago for Tribal Instinct in Seattle, toning it up a little for this.  The first half of it is influenced by the book to teenagers called Prom and Party Etiquette, by Cindy Post Senning (daughter of Emily Post), twisting its content to kink party ends: what should you do and not do at a play party, should you bring a date, should you bring a (hostess) gift, can you see the guest list, etc.  The second half is about putting together your own play party — why you should do one, what you can manage, what you need to provide, who to invite, how to manage an invite list, how to deal with problems.

I didn’t stick around for the play party that night, going out to Mad Myrna’s instead.  I got to the bar to order and heard “Jim Drew, what are you doing here?!”  The bartender was former Seattle Empress Miss MeMe (albeit in boy mode for work).  Never assume you can go anywhere incognito.  I also met up with a guy I had been chatting with on Scruff.  After a couple drinks at Mad Myrna’s, we went to the Raven and made out a while there.  Unfortunately, neither of us had somewhere we could go to fuck (etc.), so we had to leave it at that.

Saturday

On Saturday, I took three workshops.  One was Snook’s “Bill of Rights for Bottoms”, which was a work-in-progress workshop, as much group discussion about the concepts as anything.  Second was Rule of Three’s “Depersonalization and Dehumanization”, which discussed things such as bondage and masking to focus on only part of a bottom (like tits or cock), and also about using a bottom as an object, such as a table or an ashtray.  Third was slave Elizabeth (and Master Todd)’s “Slave’s Guide to Screwing Up with Grace”, which was mostly about how their relationship works, including managing/balancing the BDSM side of things with professional life and children.  Slave Elizabeth also gave a great phrase to take with me, regarding when people treat their relationship protocol as the one everyone should follow: “Your protocol is your protocol.  Your protocol is your gift.”  (My addition: “Please keep it.  Regifting is tacky.”)

I did my second presentation (we were each scheduled for three, one per day), “Cruising Online: Getting Some Ass without Being One”.  This was heavily centered around gay male online cruising, but with looks into things like FetLife and OK Cupid, including the OK Cupid Enemies Tumblr blog, which showed that het cruising can be just as full as asses as gay cruising is (as witnessed by Douchebags of Grindr).  The workshop went through details of what goes into a good online profile, including photos, title, text, and keeping things fresh.  There was also some good discussion about concerns for het women (stalking, etc.) and people in smaller communities (where the description alone in a profile can be enough to identify someone, even without pictures).  But probably the best part of the session was walking through bad examples I had found online — no pics, no profile text, iPhones implanted in faces, and so on.  (You could probably do an entire hour giggle session just with bad profiles!)

I slept in the car instead of taking the last workshop session, very tired.  It was warm and humid, though, so I only dozed.

Rather than head out to the gay bars early tonight, I stayed for the evening play party and engaged in four flogging scenes.  Two of them were with women — Marie and Monique — both of whom were newer to things (I think it was Marie’s first flogging and Monique’s second one).  I also played with one of the few other gay men at the event, former Mr. Alaska Leather (and former Seattle resident, so we already knew each other a bit) Kurt Hillyer.  WIth Kurt, both because he is experienced with flogging and because we didn’t have either gender or orientation issues to get in the middle of things, I was able to work him over harder, and we did the scene in the round, without bracing, just him standing upright in the middle of the space as I worked him up one side and down the next.  The fourth scene was the standout for me, though, as Monique had set me up with a straight (presumably) bear of a guy named Will who wanted to really be laid into.  As with Kurt, I was really able to open up on Will, not just with the flogger but with a paddle and with my hands, including fist beating on his back and even spitting on his heated skin.

I eventually had to stop playing — had to cut short the fourth scene, with Monique — because of my wrist (which has been bothering me since March), before it started hurting too bad.  Monique gave me a great gray bandana with “ALASKA” and bear and moose printed on it, and I traded her my fairly standard gray bandana in return.

I went out to Mad Myrna’s again for a beer and met up with a Facebook friend David, who knows people I do in the Seattle Imperial Court.

Sunday

On Sunday, everyone at the cabins got a late start, waking up just a little bit before the car to take those of us who didn’t have our own in to Anchorage.  Since my workshop wasn’t until the afternoon, I hung out rather than rushing.

I made the second workshop, Snook’s on “Piercing for Bondage & Control”.  She used hooks in her girl’s chest and thighs and strung them under the table.  She used some needles in the arm with a ribbon lacing, and then used needles through the fingertips and toe tips… and then made the girl remove the needle piercings while tied down.  While it was a fascinating workshop, it also confirmed for me that needles aren’t something I want to pursue, either as top or bottom; the blood and pain issues don’t bother me, but there’s just nothing in it that flips a switch for me and makes me want to try it.  Which is fine: Not My Kink.

My third workshop was after lunch, titled “60 Minutes of Buttsex”.  Actually, the workshops were 90 minutes, so I edited that to “60 Minutes of Buttsex + 30 Minutes of Fisting”.  This was a formalization of the “100 Miles of Buttsex” car workshop I did with Ruin, Ryan, and Jean in March.  While my other two workshops had small attendance, maybe a half-dozen people each, I probably had 20 people here, which kind of surprised me.  I shouldn’t have been: anal sex has some taboos attached (making it that much more attractive) and is something a lot of pan folks have tried to a limited degree (and maybe not with great success), but generally not nearly as much as a gay guy has — we specialize in it, after all.  There were bits of great discussion during the workshop, especially from Cat, a lesbian from the Bay Area, who was able to help fill in some of the holes (intentional pun) I had regarding female bits.

After that, I sat in on Lady Pact’s “Erotic Wax Play” session, but I was so tired, I kept dozing off.  Eventually FoxFinder (Sarha’s husband/dom) nudged me and had me go lie down in the presenters’ room, where I dozed and got a little sleep.

When we arrived that morning, FoxFinder had told myself and Master Todd that we wouldn’t be staying at the cabins that evening, that we would need to go back out and retrieve our stuff, that other housing would be done that evening.  Due to my workshop right after lunch, we opted to go out between the workshops and dinner, when there was a long enough break.  When we (and slave Elizabeth) got out there, Otter (who was kind of our cabin Den Mom) was dealing with the people who were renting the cabins next.  Apparently not only were we not staying that night, we were supposed to be fully out before they got there at 5:00.  Oops.  We hastily cleared things out, trying to keep further friction at a minimum.

(The incoming people run a weekly camp for “special needs” kids.  Obviously, one thing that really helps “special needs” kids is consistency, the ability to do the same things the same way every time.  Perhaps less obviously, one thing that really helps people who work with “special needs” kids is also consistency.  The woman was pissy less because our stuff was still there than because it was disrupting her consistency and thus her ability to provide such to the kids.  I sympathize, but she came across as though some of the “special needs” had rubbed off onto her.)

Returning into Anchorage, we had a lengthy discussion about relationship protocols, how things differ between gay and straight kink worlds, leather contests, and in particular about hats and covers.  Finding that we were on the same page about the subject, they asked me to do a Covering Ceremony for Master Todd, which I was surprised yet honored to oblige for.  (I won’t go into details — it was just the three of us and the Alaska countryside, short, and less formal than ceremonies you will find written out [such as in John Weal’s controversial book], but the value in such is what those involved take away from it.)

Dinner was a multi-course affair back at the event site, everything home made, including bread, cream of mushroom soup, salad, salmon, bear meatloaf, and dessert.  In between the courses, the Last Frontier Drag Kings performed.  (And Sarha fluttered around, changing outfits every few minutes.)  They also brought each of the presenters on stage for a special thanks, and for me, that included an on-stage pinning by Kurt with a The Last Frontier Men’s Club (the local leather/bear club) pin — down on his knees, fishing in my fly to find the right place for the pin — and a few seconds that I spent licking all over FoxFinder’s fist (that’s what happens when you ask me to explain International Mr. Saliva, what can I say?).

Most of the presenters who had been at the cabin went out to the FoxDen near Wasilla for the night.  I decided I wanted to stay in town and hit the bars again, maybe get myself some man-on-man action.  (And ensure having a room, bed, and bathroom to myself.)  Online hotel sites had godawful expensive rates, but remembering the name of a motel near the bars, I got a decent enough rate to stay in the city.  The bars were pretty dead, but I did connect with a guy online for some suitable play.

Monday

On Monday, I packed out of the motel and headed to Gwennie’s Old Alaska Restaurant for the Survivor’s Brunch.  The info I had was off by an hour, though, so the rest of the crew wasn’t there.  I was about to leave to kill time at Starbucks when Kurt arrived, also way early, so we went off and had coffee together.

When we got back, a few of the crew and presenters were there, and more trickled in over the next 30 minutes or so.  Food portions were huge, and I couldn’t finish mine.  As things would down, I handed out zip ties (zipper pulls on leather things, akin to a bolo tie) to several of the people there whom I had a really great time with over the weekend. 

(These zip ties are something I remember from my early days in the San Francisco leather community — you sometimes still see versions of them now without a zipper pull, with one of the cords in a fancy knot around the other — and I re-created them for my booth the last time I vended at IML.  They are a great subtle way of showing your leather to others as well as keeping a little with you even when not wearing hides.  And they can also serve as a handy collar, cuffs, or tie for CBT or other needs; I have even used one as temporary back lacing in a pair of chaps!)

FoxFinder pulled me aside at one point for a special thanks and palmed me a genuine bear claw.  Very cool.

After the brunch — including some picture taking with the Edmonton Away Team on the reindeer sculptures out front — I drove down the Seward Highway along the Turnagain Arm to Girdwood (about an hour south of Anchorage).  I took some photos and videos of the incredible scenery, had a fireweed & honey ice cream cone, and headed back to the airport for my return flight to Seattle.

Aftermath

GUSH!  (Oh, I said that already.)

I had a lot more fun at Northern Exposure than I expected to.  The largest part of that, of course, was being the sole gay presenter at an otherwise (kinky) straight event.  You never know how you will be received — embraced, accepted as just another presenter, or kind of danced around.  It was pretty much the second of those for me, which is really what you want: treat my like a person first, then deal with the gay angle only if you need to.

Despite some of the communication issues I had going into the event, it really ran exceptionally well.  (I have always believed that most events will: set things up to succeed, start the boulder rolling, and it will make it to the bottom of the hill, in part because others want it to succeed and will help.)  While I’m sure there were adventures and small panics behind the scenes — certainly with the music for one of the Drag Kings on Sunday — the only thing of significance that I noted which needs to be improved was having a large printout of the schedule.  They only had a small printout taped to a white board at first, and then we started writing in big letters what the next workshops were, but a 24x36 or so pre-printed one would be a good thing to have for next year.

I loved loved loved getting to know Master Todd and slave Elizabeth, getting great insight into a model for how a master/slave relationship can actually work, especially with Elizabeth being more of an equal partner in the relationship in many areas than the fantasy nature of such relationships would have you believe (and that much more real as a result).  I wish them the best if they choose to run for one of the regional M/s titles, as they said they may.

Almost my entire life has been on the West Coast, in view of mountains — real mountains, with craggy tops and snow, not the big rolling hills they call mountains back East (grin).  You learn to tell your location and directions by where they are, and to navigate by them.  From where I am sitting now, I can see the Cascades, four distances away (nearby Seattle, Mercer Island in Lake Washington, the Issaquah highlands beyond that, and then the mountains).  They are real, but they are a ways away — 60 to 90 minutes drive.  In Alaska, though, the mountains are IN YOUR FACE!  They are only two distances away, almost close enough to touch, looking 15 minutes drive away, maybe.  It was really amazing.

There’s an old joke that the Alaska state bird is the mosquito, and they were certainly out a Earthquake Park and at Beech Lake where the cabins were.  For whatever reason, though, I only came away with one scratchy bite.  I sure brushed enough of them away.

Northern Exposure was just days before summer solstice.  Alaska is the “Land of the Midnight Sun”, and while I knew what this meant academically, you just aren’t prepared for it until you experience it.  On Friday night, I got back to the cabin at 2:30 am, and it looked like the sun had just set.  (Fortunately, I didn’t have trouble sleeping with the odd light levels.)

I did not get to see the Northern Lights.  I don’t know if they are even visible from Anchorage at that time of year, but that’s something to look for on a future trip.  There was a cool art installation at the Anchorage airport emulating the Northern Lights on the ceiling of one of the corridors, though.  That rivaled “Flying Fish” (the stream of fish embedded in the floor of Concourse C at SeaTac airport) and “Desert Wildlife” (the half-sunk desert animals at the Las Vegas airport) for cool airport art.

I got several compliments on my speaking style and presentation for my workshops.  The biggest part of that, I’m sure, is that I’ve taught dance workshops for a decade.  But I think a chunk of the credit has to go to my father, who was a Methodist minister.  Even though I didn’t like having to sit through sermons (and often read a book in the back pew instead of paying attention), a lot of how he did what he did must have rubbed off.

I also got kudos from people for doing my presentations from a gay viewpoint.  While I did go through them and make sure that pronouns and focus weren’t completely male oriented, I didn’t try to “straighten” things up any more than I had to, presenting things as “This is the way I do it or I think it should go” and trusting that those attending the workshops were adults, able to adapt what I was presenting into their own reference frame.  (This was especially true with the Buttsex & Fisting workshop, where a couple times I had to come back around to the fact that I don’t know the details of female anatomy, so I could only generalize about things like vaginal fisting.)

At one point during the weekend, I thought “Wow, this sort of event would be great aimed just at gay guys — workshops on all sort of subjects and play parties at night.”  A few minutes later, I thought “That would never work.”  What I meant by that is that on multiple levels, gay leathermen wouldn’t be interested.  First, there’s simply the matter of number of attendees — take a leather bar with 100 guys in it, and frankly only 20% (if that) are actually players of a sufficient level to be interested in the concept, and only half of those might attend any way; the rest of your leather bar patrons are interested in leather as a fashion accessory or leathersex as a condiment rather than the main dish (and that’s fine!).  Second, gay leathermen like to think we already know everything, or at least that we can figure out whatever we need to know — we don’t want a 90-minute workshop on wax play, covering beginning steps, safety, more advanced topics, and some demo; we want 5 minutes of basics, 5 minutes of safety, 5 minutes of next stages, and then 75 minutes of hands-on demo/guided play, with the belief that we can figure out what things to try or avoid.  (We’re rebels, you know!)  Third, half of the workshops (some of mine included) were less about play and more about making relationships work and managing your leather lifestyle and such; gay leathermen again generally are not interested in that stuff (at least on the surface, and there are exceptions) — we want the sex, damn it!

If they invite me back again next year, will I go?  I would sure like to — do more exploring of the geography, and I have several other workshops I could do which would go over better for that crowd, now that I know them better.  But I would also heartily recommend that other gay leathermen (and women) apply to be presenters — to get the experience of both the weekend and of Alaska, and to bring their own spin on things to the event — and if it were a choice between me and someone else with good stuff to present, I would definitely tell Northern Exposure to go for the other gay leather presenter, to “expose” themselves further!

See pics from the trip.

Pics from Anchorage (June 14–18)

Here are pics from my Anchorage trip.

The Kenai Peninsula, seen across Turnagain Arm, 30 minutes drive from Anchorage

Early Leather Influences

Some leathermen are lucky enough to have had experienced leathermen bring them into the community as newbies, to serve as mentor or daddy or sir.  I’m not one of them.  I started taking my first steps into leather in 1991, and I mostly had to find my own way.  I had to learn now to navigate the leather bar and the leather scene largely by myself, gleaning info where I could from whom I could.

The internet was there in terms of newsgroups and mailing lists only.  alt.sex.bondage, soc.motss, and the Bears Mailing List were about the only resources I had.

Apparently I did a good enough job — I’m still here.  While I can name individuals who had an impact on me and how I turned out after my first few years — Don Thompson, Jeff Tucker, Mr. Marcus, Mark Dreier (of the Loading Dock), George Wong, Jeff Henness, Dave Rhodes — they were not mentors in the usual sense, nor were they early influences.

My earliest leather influences were actually fictional (or at least fictionalized) characters.

Society of Creative Anachronism

I got involved in the SCA in grad school, in 1988 or so, via friends who were also in the local Rocky Horror Picture Show cast.  For those not up on the concept, the SCA is a medieval recreation group, which includes both mock medieval fighting (even full out “wars”) and medieval arts (song, dance, food, handcrafts).

In particular, it is an attempt to celebrate the good parts of the Middle Ages.  Everyone is nobility (a lord or lady) unless they want to play other roles.  Issues of poverty, classism, serfdom, plague — those are pretty much side-stepped in favor of presenting positive re-creation.

Things I picked up from the SCA:

• Honor and chivalry
• Focus on the good things
• Be able to be heard across a room or a field (I did field heraldry — outdoor announcements)
• The idea that Sir and Master are titles which are earned by a person by exhibiting and passing on skills (whether at arms or in craft), and that a title is granted by others, not assumed by the individual just because they want it

The Desert Peach

The Desert Peach — Pfirsich Marie Rommel — is a comic book character (from the comic book of the same name) created by Donna Barr, the fictional brother of Erwin Rommel, the Desert Fox.  He is a gay man in the World War II German army, stationed in northern Africa and overseeing a battalion of misfits which makes M*A*S*H look normal.

Who would think a comedy about a gay German officer could have depth and influence?  Donna Barr created a rich world and supporting cast for the character, who was presented as very competent, controlled, and principled individual.

Things I picked up from The Desert Peach:

• Again, honor and chivalry
• Being your own man even when those in power are against you
• Being a leader who inspires those who follow you
• That guys in uniform can be hot and sexy, yet with a tender side

Dr.  Frank N.  Furter

That’s right, I count the transvestite mad scientist from the Rocky Horror Picture Show among my most fundamental early leather influences.  It is easy to dismiss him, but there is a lot of depth to the character.

Think about it:

• He embraces who he is and what he likes
• He doesn’t let others dictate his behaviors or his fashion choices
• He wields a mean riding crop (so does the Desert Peach, actually!)
• He likes sex, and he likes to have it with a variety of partners
• He recognizes the value of an entrance and a well-done performance
• He has a vision for what he wants and he follows through on it
• He surrounds himself with people who will support him and help him see his vision through to the end

  — Okay, he failed on that one in the end, but he tried!

A Sir Without a Boy?

One of the questions I wonder whether it will come up at International is why I don’t have a collared boy either with me or at home.  The extension of that being whether a leather Sir is truly a Sir without a (collared) boy, and likewise whether a leather boy is truly a boy with a Sir and a Sir’s collar.

(I should make this completely clear: this is about a collared relationship-boy, nothing to do with Dan, my title-boy.)

On the basest level, I find that question, or at least the concept behind it, to be pretty offensive.  If we are so adamant that “leather” is what we are inside, and that “boy” is not dependent on age, experience, or even gender, then shouldn’t “Sir” also be about what is inside rather than on whether someone else has a length of chain around his neck?

That said, while the length of chain is theoretically symbolic, I know people for whom the physical symbol is vitally important to their own self-worth — boys exhibiting signs of depression when not collared and seeking collaring from any potential Sir, regardless of whether a suitable relationship exists already or not.  And I know others for whom the collar is an inseparable part of their play — tops who use a collar in basically any 1-on-1 scene they do, developing an ever expanding stable of “collared” boys.

For myself, after my last significant relationship ended a bit over two years ago, I really had no interest in trying to move into another relationship quickly.  Heck no: I was interested in playing far more than dating.  Although that relationship had ended, it had done good things in strengthening the side of my personality that sought out sexplay; I was much more able to ask for and pursue what I wanted now, and it was working.  I figured that if a relationship fell out of play, super, and if it didn’t for a while, no worries.

It wasn’t until about a year ago that I started getting that itch, thinking about an a more formal relationship again.  Of course, now with the LeatherSIR title, I had incentive to look at that possibility from a different angle, and to give good thought to whether I wanted to seek out a leatherboy with the possible intent of collaring.

One stopper for me there has been my personal feelings on what a collar means.  Most leathermen agree that it is symbolic or representative of the relationship, but there is a lot of difference on the “seriousness” indicated.  If you look online, you will find references to play collars and training collars and collars of consideration and so forth, but ultimately it comes down to the two people.  Other than collars used strictly within a play scene to establish roles (including puppy collars), to me, a collar is the equivalent of “going steady” (or more), of a relationship that has moved beyond light dating/fucking/etc., into something more serious.

So that’s the biggest piece of the question:
— Why don’t I have a collared boy?  Because I am not in a relationship with someone at a level where a collar is appropriate.

The second piece, then, is why aren’t I in that sort of a relationship?  If I’ve been thinking about it for going on a year, surely I’ve moved beyond thinking into looking, right?  Of course I have.  But if a relationship involving a collar has to be at the right level to warrant one, then it also has to be the right relationship, with the right boy, at the right time.  And that’s one of the difficulties I have had, is finding a boy with the right values, interests, experiences, and sexual focus to mesh with me.

Maybe I’m too picky — some would say so, I’m sure.  Maybe I’m good at driving them away.  Maybe I discard options too soon.  All I can really say is that I have had both play and public display (whether genuine date or just accompanying me to a leather social event) opportunities with a few boys over the past several months and I haven’t found someone with the right combination to continue forward with for more than a few encounters.

There is one definite roadblock, though: the title, or at least the activities I’ve accepted as part of the title.  Not that I’m avoiding star fuckers — hah, if a boy wants me to fuck him as because of the title as because of me, no problem (at least once).  But this year, basically every Saturday from late March to late September has been booked with a local event or an out-of-town trip or a party I am hosting.  It has been a struggle to find the time to mow my lawn this summer, getting into the dating swing where I carve out time specifically to spend building that sort of a relationship, that is very challenging.

But I’m still looking.  The right boy will come along some day and grab my brass ring, but in the meantime, I’m still going to have a fulfilling leather life (including plenty of hot sex).

Where Am I?

Want to find me in more places online?  Here is where to look for me.

Blogs

I currently have three blogs, where you can find my thoughts about all sorts of topics, leather and otherwise:

• Northwest LeatherSIR 2012 (this one)
• SoundsKinky (despite the name, intended for general audiences)
• SoundsKinky-er (adult, often NSFW content)

Website

My personal website is soundskinky.com

You can find links to my blogs, my old Rubberize website (with older pics, trip reports, leather book reviews and other writing, an older blog, and porn stories), and a couple other defunct web projects of mine.

Facebook

http://www.facebook.com/soundskinky

Twitter

I have a Twitter feed, but I have never tweeted anything, and I doubt I ever will.  I would have to dig around to find and log into it.

FetLife

I am on FetLife under “NWLeatherSIRJim”.

Cruise Sites

I have profiles on a bunch of different cruise sites, all with basically the same profile text and mostly the same pics.  They all use the profile name “mykindofrain”.  The ones I check most often:

• Adam4Adam
• AssPig
• Bear411
• Manhunt
• Recon

You can also find my profile (same profile name) on DaddyHunt, XtremeFistMen, Squirt, and for the next time I travel to Europe, GayRomeo.  On Bruizr, I should be under “Jim (mykindofrain)”, but I’m not sure how well their search works.

On mobile devices, look for me on Grindr, Growlr, Mister, and Scruff.  Since you can’t search for someone by name on most of those, you’ll usually have to find me as “Jim”.

Porn

Yes, it is true, there is some porn of me out there.  Not a whole lot, although if someone wants to have me do more (and pay me), let me know.

You can find a photo spread of me (from about 8 years ago) at TopBear.com, under the name “Thom”

You can find a couple home videos (a couple years old) on XTube, under “rubberseattle”.