Escorting an Escort Part 2

I spent the entire day and night with Marco today. He greeted me with a big smile, wrapped his strong arms around me and kissed me. We ventured out to have some lunch and ended up at the Amish Market on 9th avenue. The food was fresh and delicious, and we sat at a communal table with other random store patrons. I had baked fish, mixed green salad and a random wrapped grape leaf.

On the way down the street, Marco held my hand a few times and hung onto my shoulder. It was sweet and totally unexpected. What's more is that my best friend will probably have a hard time believing this. He knows that I tend to have a difficult time with affection. My best friend can't even hug me without me shuddering. But, Marco makes me feel good...genuinely good. So, his touch, his hug - it's all welcome any time.

After lunch, we walked down to the meat market where the butcher sliced up 12 filets from a beef tenderloin. It was a really cool place and surprisingly very low price. I say this because everything in New York is very expensive. In any other grocery store, those filets would have cost about $15-20 each. He got 12 for $22.

We left the market and headed back to his place. Soon after arrival, Marco's pain returned. He was absolutely miserable, unable to move. He got so depressed, grabbed me and pulled me close to him. He said that the pain was so bad he didn't know how he could possibly go on living this way. This prompted a more in-depth discussion about his pain.

Turns out that he has a very bad case of TMJ. One night about a year ago he thought he could reposition his disjointed jaw all by hisself. That was a mistake. It landed him in the hospital where the team of doctors convinced him to have surgery. They even paid for the surgery - Marco didn't pay a single dime.

I did lots of research on TMJ during our conversation. I discovered that there is no cure for it, and that surgery is always a last resort since most of the time it actually makes it worse. This was certainly the case for Marco. He went in with moderate pain and came out with the worst pain of his life.

I feel so bad for him. I just hate to see him in pain. He drew me closer still and put his head on my chest. It wasn't long before I realized that the pain and depression brought tears to his eyes. It broke my heart. I wanted to help him but there was absolutely nothing I could do. I felt so helpless, so out of reach. So, all I could do was rub his back while tears fell from his eyes.

After a very long discussion, I discovered that he did not finish his post-op physical therapy. He said that it hurt too much so he stopped seeing the therapist. I was flabbergasted. I could not believe what I was hearing. All of the research I did online pointed toward the physical therapy exercises being the only solution to pain associated with TMJ.

So, I spent the next two hours trying my hardest to convince him to do the exercises again. He was so stubborn, he didn't want to do it. But, after a while, somehow I convinced him. After an entire year of living with this horrible pain, he's finally doing something about it.

So, using a physical therapy instruction manual we both did the exercises together. We breathed together. We massaged our jaws together. We did as much as we could do. I was even beginning to feel the strain from the exercises. He promised me that he would do his therapy every day from now on and we would track his progress.

I don't know if these exercises will work. God, I hope they do. But, he has nothing to lose by trying.

After therapy, he reached over and touched my face. He said "I like you." Those gorgeous chestnut brown eyes gleamed at me and pierced my heart. I know that Marco is telling the truth - it's that unmistakable look in someone's eyes that are the window to a person's soul. I can see right through him with just one stare.

He got up off the bed and went to his hall closet, returning with an accordian file. With broken English, he said "These are my secrets," and he opened up the file.

Fumbling through paperwork, he produced several certificates and university transcripts. The man has a college education. Not only is he degreed, but he's extremely smart, far surpassing minimum scores to receive MCSE certifications.

Turns out that he was a database administrator and head of an IT department back in his country a few years ago. But, his job overworked him and paid very little. He felt as though he would never get anywhere in the world on that kind of salary. So, he ended up in New York. To make ends meet, he became an escort.

But, being an escort is much like a downward spiral, spinning out of control. It's difficult to recover from this sort of lifestyle; it sticks with you. I asked him about using his degree in New York, but he insisted that there's no money in it. I didn't agree. In urban areas, a Microsoft certification can land you a great job that pays rather well. We did not see eye-to-eye on the subject, so I just let it go.

I'm learning so many lessons in this new friendship with Marco. Today, I learned first hand why it's so important not to judge a book by its cover. You nor I would never have guessed that he was highly educated.

The accordian file retired back to the closet after he showed me a few more items. I learned that he still maintains a bank account in his native country. He deposits money into the account and then transfers it to his mother's bank account. He's a good soon. He helps support his mother. I'm sure she doesn't know what her son has to do for that money.

Big man. Big heart.

Marco went to the kitchen and started to cook dinner. He said he wanted to cook for me. This would be the second time he's made dinner for us. The food was just as good the second time around. After our meal, we laid in bed and cuddled. His pain was back. He explained that it tends to go away while he's busy doing something. So, he didn't think about it much while he was cooking.

So, I told him that sex always makes my headache go away and I asked if it would help him. I know what you're thinking: cheap trick, trying to get sex out of the deal. That honestly wasn't what I was doing. If I wanted sex I could just ask...there's no need to be sly or coy or employ any kind of trickery just to get it.

He agreed. So, being the man that I am, I know that the penis has pressure points that trigger euphoria - a feeling that trumps pain. So, I gave him oral sex, which led to intercourse. At one point, he stopped mid-sex and said "I really like you, Jason."

I said "I know. I'm so glad that you do, because I like you, too."

Afterward I asked to use his shower, to which he replied "This is your house."

I can hardly describe the deep connection that Marco and I have. It's difficult to believe, even for myself, but I'm really beginning to fall for this guy. Is it because I'm drawn to his emotion? Is it because he's so attentive and gentle and kind? Is it because he genuinely makes an effort to make me feel like the only man on earth? I think it's a combination of everything.

Before I left this evening, he erased all of his DVR recordings and said "I made room for you."

I said "What?"

"I want to put your shows in my DVR so you don't miss them. You can watch them here," he explained.

He said "I want you here. All the time."

I kissed Marco on his forehead, gave him a big smile and started to walk toward the door. He stopped me in the hallway and hugged me. He said "I will sleep tonight. Thank you."

Read the complete "Escorting an Escort" series on my blog here: http://anythingbutstraight.blogspot.com

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Escorting an Escort Part 1

I've decided to start writing about a new experience I've been having lately. I'm sure many of you will have a hard time understanding this subject matter, so I implore you to keep an open mind. After all, it is my own open mind that led me to this situation in the first place.

About a week ago I was chatting online and I received a message from a guy. Basically it said he wasn't looking to meet that night, maybe the next day, but he was more interested in meeting potential new friends.

I was excited at the prospect, because I am also looking for friends since I just moved to New York. He never sent me any nude photos, but I did see that he had an incredibly beautiful, muscular body and such a handsome face.

We traded phone numbers and decided to contact each other the following day. Much to my surprise about an hour later he texted me and asked if I would meet him down the street in a public place. I agreed.

He was even hotter in person. We walked across the street to a neighborhood bar, walked in and discovered that it was entirely too crowded and very loud. So, we contemplated on where to go from there. But, the options were limited due to the time of night and the cold weather. Ultimately, we decided to pick up a bottle of vodka and go back to his place.

On the walk over I tried very hard to keep the conversation going. He was very quiet and answered my questions in one or two-word phrases. He explained in broken English (he speaks Spanish) that he's very shy, and because he's still learning English, he doesn't talk much.

I wasn't expecting what I heard next and I really don't think I had much of a reaction. But, I asked him what he does for a living. After a long pregnant pause he looked at me and said "I'm an escort."

I said "Really?" I remember thinking Great, does he think I'm going to pay for sex? He said he would normally never tell anyone that he's an escort, especially this early on. But, he felt compelled to be completely honest with me.

I followed "Marco" up to his apartment and sat at his table. He poured two vodka tonics, looked at me with his dark brown eyes and said "I normally don't drink."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"I had an accident about a year ago, fell and split open my head."

Marco grabbed my hand and placed it on his head to feel his scars. He explained that he had surgery about a year ago and that he has experienced chronic pain ever since. He said that the pain is so bad that it makes him miserable.

Even worse, he's afraid to take his prescription pain reliever because it prevents him from getting an erection. Marco is a top. If he can't get an erection, he can't work; he can't make money; he can't pay his rent.

Marco places my hand back on the table and cups it with his, looks deep into my eyes and catches an unwavering stare for what seemed like decades before he finally blinked. I could feel so much emotional power and pain in that one look. It brought tears to my eyes. It was one of the more profound experiences of my life.

He explained that he doesn't have any friends in the city, although he's been in New York for over three years. He doesn't have anyone to talk to; no one to have lunch with or see a movie with; no one to lounge around the house with and just laugh about silly things. The man has never heard of, nor has he ever seen a single episode of Golden Girls. Yeah, I know what you're thinking...he can't be gay! But, he is.

We finished half of our first drink before he grabbed my hand and sat me down on the bed. He took off his shirt and revealed his beautiful body and said "touch me."

How could I not? The man is hot.

He sat on the bed next to me and stared into my eyes while I massaged his chest, abs, shoulders. He talked more about his pain and told me that it hurts so much - even at the very moment. I told him to take his medication, that he doesn't have to worry about his erection since he doesn't have any clients the rest of the night.

But, he said he wouldn't be able to perform for me. I didn't care. I told him that sex wasn't necessary. I was more concerned about his pain.

He was so sweet. I could feel his emotional pain all over him. I asked him if he liked his work. He said that he likes it sometimes, but mostly it makes him feel lonely. For him, sex is just an act. It's a motion he goes through that he doesn't even think about.

So I laid my head on his chest and cuddled up next to him. He stroked my hair and kept my hand on his chest. He liked to be touched. He doesn't get touched, not in an endearing way at least.

He said he wanted to see my body, so he took off my shirt and ran his hands down my torso to my pants. Eventually we both laid there without clothes and just felt each other's bodies. It was an incredibly emotional experience. I knew that no one has ever taken the time to appreciate him for anything other than quick sex. So, I couldn't cross that barrier. I didn't want to treat him like every other trick that walks through his front door.

Later that night we ended up having sex. And, I must admit...there's a reason why men pay him. The boy is good. Really good. I told him he could kiss me. But, he was very reluctant to do so. Afterward, he asked me to stay the night. He wanted to fall asleep next to me. He said that no one has ever been so kind to him.

He also explained that any time he's ever told someone that he's an escort, they have never called him back. He said that no one wants to be his friend because of his job. I told him I would be his friend, that he being an escort is his business and that I have no right to judge him for it.

I could see that he wanted to cry. But, he held it back. It's apparent that he's been harboring emotions for many years. Given the chance, I'm sure the flood gates would open up and let loose a stockpile of anger, frustration, sadness and more.

I told Marco that I would not stay the night, not yet. So, I put on my clothes and he held me for a very long time. He said "I could be better with you around."

Those few words had such strong meaning for the both of us. I responded with "take your medication and get some sleep."

He said that if I would just text him the next day it would mean so much to him. Of course I obliged. I think he half expected me to never call him again, like all the other men he's tried to befriend in the past.

The next day I picked up the phone and texted him "I was glad to meet you. Lets get together again."

He replied "I'm free at 9 p.m. tonight."

Over the course of the next week, I've seen Marco several times and I've slept over, too. I've watched him wince in pain and refuse to take medication. I've watched him place an ice pack on his head since it tends to make him feel better. He's cooked me dinner and rubbed my shoulders. We've watched random things on TV while lying in bed together.

Every time I see him he opens up even more. Now, he smiles at me and his entire face brightens up. He laughs at my jokes. He's coming out of his shell. He's even beginning to trust me more. I helped him fix his cable TV issues. Since he doesn't communicate very well in English, he was frustrated about having to call customer service at Time Warner. Now, thank God, the boy has Bravo!

Now, he kisses me. He wraps his arms around me when I walk in the door, he smiles and he kisses me...over and over again. What's more...he surprised me with a random act of versatility. He said since the first night when I told him that I am quite versatile in bed, that he took the time to prepare himself to be a bottom for me. He said that he never bottoms and that he thought it would hurt. For all you bottoms out there - I know you're laughing. And for the rest of you skeptics - trust me...the boy is ALL TOP. And, it was increasingly apparent when I took the reigns that evening.

He texted me last night to tell me he wanted to see me. So, I went over to his place and we laid in bed together, watched some TV until his phone rang. A client was calling. I gestured to him that it was okay...to take care of his business and call me later.

He told me he wanted me to come back and sleep next to him.

I went home and passed out on the couch. I woke up early this morning and realized I missed a few messages from him. The last one read "Need you."

I'm sure that many things are going through your head right now. It's dizzying; the thought of "dating" an escort. It's taboo. It's crazy. You might even wonder how it could ever work. I really don't know the answer. I don't think I've given it too much thought. I'm a wing mender. I have to fix things all the time. And, for Marco, I want to breathe some life back into his heart. Every time I see him he seems happier. I can't take that away from him.

So, for now, I will continue to see Marco. I'll sleep over and hold him, rub his back and smile at him often. I'll do my best to make him feel loved and missed. I don't know how long this will last. This situation obviously doesn't fit into my master plan of getting married, buying a house together and living happily ever after.

But, life brings us all kinds of things we don't immediately understand. I won't argue with the moon and the stars. I'll just keep on keepin' on and see where this leads me.

I'll see Marco tonight, and I'll write more about our experiences soon.

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Proposition 8 Campaign Can't Hide Donors' Names

Proposition 8 proponents' complaint that a California campaign-finance disclosure law has led to harassment of same-sex marriage opponents failed to sway a federal judge, who refused Thursday to throw out the law or shield donors' names.

"If there ever needs to be sunshine on a particular issue, it's a ballot measure," U.S. District Judge Morrison England said after a one-hour hearing in his Sacramento courtroom.

A lawyer for the Prop. 8 campaign said it would ask an appeals court to modify or overturn the law, which requires disclosure of all contributors of $100 or more.

Prop. 8, approved by voters Nov. 4, amended the state Constitution to recognize only marriage between a man and a woman, overturning the state Supreme Court's May 15 ruling that gay and lesbian couples have a constitutional right to marry.

Same-sex couples and local governments led by the city of San Francisco have filed suits to overturn Prop. 8, a case that the state's high court could hear as early as the first week in March.

The federal lawsuit, unrelated to the validity of Prop. 8, was filed Jan. 8 by the ballot measure's sponsoring committee, Protect Marriage. The suit said Internet disclosure of donors' names and other identifying information in state-mandated reports has led to consumer boycotts, picketing and even death threats.

By requiring disclosure, "The government is getting in the middle (of the issue) and saying, 'Here are the people to go after,' " Richard Coleson, a lawyer for the committee, told England.

He argued that the $100 disclosure requirement - adopted by California voters in 1974 - should be struck down, modified to raise the dollar limits, or at least not applied to Prop. 8's contributors. As a first step, Coleson said, the campaign should be exempted from the state's post-election contribution report, due Monday.

Otherwise, he said, in future initiative campaigns "you will have donations dry up, and one side will be able to overcome another by intimidation and not by persuasion."

The U.S. Supreme Court upheld campaign disclosure laws in 1976 but ruled in 1982 that the Socialist Workers Party in Ohio could shield its donors' names because of a history of attacks and reprisals.

Protect Marriage argued that it was entitled to the same exemption because of retaliation against some of its contributors, but lawyers for the state said the two cases weren't comparable. They noted that the Prop. 8 campaign raised nearly $30 million from 36,000 donors.

If the Prop. 8 campaign was exempted from disclosure because of reports of harassments of individual donors, said Deputy Attorney General Zackery Morazzini, the same case could be made for any controversial initiative. Courts would have to "keep the entire California electorate in the dark as to who was funding these ballot measures," he said.

England agreed.

He noted that some of the reprisals reported by the Prop. 8 committee involve legal activities such as boycotts and picketing. Other alleged actions, such as death threats, mailings of white powder and vandalism, may constitute "repugnant and despicable acts" but can be reported to law enforcement, the judge said.

Even if there have been illegal reprisals, that would be insufficient reason to grant a wholesale exemption for a multimillion-dollar initiative campaign, England said. He also rejected the Prop. 8 campaign's argument that the $100 disclosure limit established in 1974 should be increased for inflation, saying some states require reports of contributions as low as $25 and the Supreme Court has never invalidated them.

Any desire by donors to remain anonymous is outweighed by the state's authority to require "full and fair disclosure of everyone who's involved in these political campaigns," England said.

Protect Marriage still has a request pending before England to require the state to remove its past disclosure reports from the Internet. But the state says such an order would be futile because the reports have been widely distributed on private Web sites.

Coleson said the campaign would take its case against the disclosure law to the Ninth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in San Francisco.

Referring to the donors whose names will appear in Monday's public report, campaign spokesman Frank Schubert said England's ruling "puts 1,600 people in harm's way."

Courtesy:  Bob Egelko, San Francisco Chronicle

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Add Your Name To Overturn Proposition 8

Be part of the largest LGBT civil rights movement in the United States since Stonewall. Join the fight to overturn Proposition 8, a 2008 California state constitutional ammendment that denied marriage rights to LGBT citizens.

This monumental movement has already begun to be the catalyst in pushing forward LGBT equality across America. Be part of history by standing up and taking action now.

For the third of five actions to overturn Prop 8, add your name to a scrolling list of members at www.eqca.org.

Have one minute?
Add your name to scroll on the homepage of www.eqca.org. Show the world you support the freedom to marry and oppose equality being put up for a vote.

Have two minutes?
Call, email, text your friends and family to add their names as well. Follow up with at least three people personally and tell them why this is so important to you.

Add Your Name To Overturn 8

The day after Prop 8 passed, Equality California—on behalf of our members—challenged Prop 8 in the California Supreme Court. On March 5, our case will be heard.

And by being a member of EQCA—the only organizational plaintiff in the case—you are a part of this moment in history.

We know that being out as an LGBT person, or as an advocate for equality, is essential to our fight.

That is why we are asking you to come out in a big way—by adding your name to a scroll of supporters on the homepage of eqca.org.

Take a minute to add your name to publicly show your support for the freedom to marry and for protecting minorities from having their equality put up for a popular vote.

Add Your Name To Overturn 8

The brilliant attorneys at the National Center for Lesbian Rights, Lambda Legal, ACLU, Munger Tolles and Olson, LLP and the Law Office of David C. Codell have worked tirelessly so we all live in a state where equality can’t be voted away. Now each of us must do our part.

While our opponents try to hide who their supporters are, we can show the world that we are everywhere and are proud to be on the side of equality. Add your name now.

Add Your Name To Overturn 8

And what about the people you care about and who care about you?

Forward this email to everyone one your list and ask them to become part of this historic moment by joining you. And follow up with at least three personally—tell them why it matters to you that they add their names to the list. And explain that the case is about more than marriage—as important as that is—but is about keeping other minorities from having their rights voted on.

Add Your Name To Overturn 8

By showing our neighbors, co-workers, family and friends that we are proud to be out in support of the freedom to marry and for the rights of other groups who will be at risk if Prop 8 is allowed to stand—and asking them to join us—we will build a true state of equality here in California.

In Solidarity,

Geoff Kors
Executive Director
Equality California

P.S. This is the third of five actions to overturn Prop 8 before EQCA’s Lobby Day to Overturn 8 next week. Keep looking for more actions until the big day, February 17!

www.eqca.org

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30 Things I've Learned in NYC

1. Walking is a way of life in NY. People wouldn't get caught dead walking in Dallas.
2. If you don't own anything black in your wardrobe you totally won't fit in.
3. iPods are popular because you don't have a car in NY - so you gotta hear your music somehow.
4. I totally get the man purse - where else will you put things while you're walking 10 blocks?
5. A typical bar tab in Dallas is $60. It's $100 in NY.
6. Cabs won't pick you up if you want to go the opposite direction of the one-way street you're on.
7. Don't ever ever ever ever ever even attempt to eat Mexican food in NY. It's gross.
8. Gay men in NY must work out all day every single day because they all have super model bodies
9. In order to ride the subway properly, you must first choose an Uptown or Downtown station
10. 50 degrees in NY is spring weather and cause for celebration
11. People put on shorts and T-shirts when the temperature warms up to 50
12. You can get the most awesome sandwich you've ever tasted on every single street corner
13. Take cash with you if you go to the Bodega - they don't take credit cards
14. People actually have full time jobs as club promoters and can make loads of cash doing it
15. Always stick to the avenues and avoid scaffolding in walkways
16. Do not step on metal grades in the street - sometimes they fall through
17. Red Bull is served out of a fountain in most bars - and it's nasty
18. If you see a cute guy on the street - say hi - you'll never see him again
19. People in NY are friendly, they're just always on the go and usually too busy to pay attention
20. A pint of ice cream at the grocery store costs $7
21. A six pack of Bud Light costs $10
22. You can get fresh and strangely cheap produce on 52nd street between 9th and 8th avenue
23. Tickets to Jon Stewart and the Colbert Report are free, but are booked 3-6 months out
24. There's a man at 46th & 10th that is trained in tantric massage
25. The average size of a 1 bedroom apartment in Manhattan is 400 square feet and its a studio
26. Some apartments in NY don't have bathrooms - you have to use a communal toilet and shower
27. It is very rare to have a washer and dryer in your apartment - it's considered a luxury
28. A Quarter Pounder with Cheese value meal at McDonald's is $7.65 plus tax
29. NY cabs have a touch screen TV with a map and the news embedded into the back of the seat
30. NY cabs have self service credit card terminals in the backseat

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My All Around American Guy - A True Story of Two Gay Men Facing All the Odds

Many of you may not know, but in 1997 I was a television reporter on a GLBT news show in Houston called TV Montrose.  TV Montrose was a cable access show that focused on GLBT news.  My producer, Steve, and his wonderful husband Russ, put a lot of faith in me and gave me so much love.  Tragically, in 1999 Steve was in a car accident that disabled him and caused catastrophic loss of memory, motor skills and even the ability to do simple things like tie his shoe.  His husband, Russ, stuck by his side. 

Steve is Russ's first and only gay lover.  Russ wrote an article chronicling their amazing journey together.  The article was published in Bent.

Russ's story will move you.  It will restore your faith in the impossible.  It will remind you that there really are wonderful people in the world who do selfless things every day.  It's the story of true love between two men who have faced all the odds.

I'm so glad Russ found me after all these years and sent me a random email today.  Here's a piece of my past.  Enjoy.

My All Around American Guy
By Russ Byrd

I met Steve in the spring of 1991 through a local personals ad titled "All 'round American Guy looking for friends and a possible relationship." At twenty-eight I was still living with my parents and had never knowingly met another gay person. I had had crushes on other boys when I was younger, but I had never acted on them. Hiding the fact that I was gay became second nature, though I never dated girls to cover up the truth. It seemed unfair to mess with another person's feelings knowing I could not return them.

In fact, I had never made friends of any kind, fearing that people would dislike me if they knew the truth. Raised by a conservative Southern Baptist family, I had always thought I was evil for the way I was created. At a certain point I realized that my family's wisdom had failed me on the subject of being gay. I decided to take a chance and try to make some gay friends to see where it might lead me.

Steve had placed his ad in a small newspaper, not gay, but full of alternative music coverage and similar features, the kind of paper distributed free in convenience stores and record shops. I came across it by accident and was intrigued. A few weeks after I wrote a response we met for coffee. My fears melted as I listened to him tell me about his life; looking into his piercing blue eyes didn't hurt, either.

We became friends. As we grew closer, he went on to become my first date, the first man I kissed, my first sexual experience. Steve provided so many firsts in my life. Best of all he was the first person I could talk to about everything without hiding who I was.

In the fall of 1991 we went on a two-week camping trip across New Mexico. By trip's end we had decided I would move in with Steve. Looking back, it seems like this was when my life really began, making friends for the first time and, most important, building a life with someone.

Steve worked in the film and documentary business. His bread-and butter work was filming depositions for attorneys going to trial, but what he really wanted was to make educational films promoting equality for queer men and women. As he watched me struggle horribly when my family found out I was gay, his resolve formed into a plan. In 1994 he approached the local Houston chapter of PFLAG (Parents, Family & Friends of Lesbians and Gays) with the idea of making a documentary video to help families dealing with similar struggles.

PFLAG was thrilled with Steve's idea. After a lot of hard work filming and editing, "Always My Kid" was launched. The premier was probably the first and only time most of the PFLAG parents had ever set foot in a gay nightclub. That same night Steve proposed to me in front of the entire audience. "Always My Kid" went on to enjoy distribution all over the United States and in several other countries. By using my family's questions to me as an outline for his interviews, Steve was able to address most issues that arise when a gay child comes out to his or her family. Ministers, psychiatrists, parents of gay children, and gay people themselves were all interviewed.

On April 16th, 1994 we celebrated our civil union at a PFLAG parent's beautiful home overlooking a pond. Officiating were two straight ministers (also PFLAG members) who were intent on rebutting the assumption that gay relationships go against God and nature. "The Houston Post," a conservative paper, sent a reporter, their interest probably stimulated by TV's "Northern Exposure" and it's recent gay marriage episode. The "Post" article turned out to be positive, but local reaction was anything but. In the wake of the ensuing harassment we finally had to change our phone number.

In 1998, after more documentary work, Steve created and produced a weekly local gay television show called "TV Montrose" about Houston's diverse GLBT community, which aired for more than a year. Steve finally closed it down because meeting the deadline meant working too many hours a week.

At that point he made two major life changes. First, deciding he wanted to write, he landed a job with "The Houston Voice," our gay newspaper. Second, he moved to the family horse ranch in Plantersville, about an hour northwest of the city. From the ranch he planned to write a bi-weekly column called "Out From The Country," that would deal with gay issues from the perspective of someone living and working outside the customary urban gay environment.

Like many couples, gay and straight, we had grown so close over the years that we could finish each other's sentences. Since I was still living in Houston, Steve's move to the ranch meant a big change in our life together, but we decided that I would join Steve on weekends when I was not working.

At the end of his first week there I joined him at the ranch and we decided to take a drive around the surrounding countryside. On a steep curve Steve plunged off the road. I don't know how many times the truck rolled over. I woke up relatively uninjured, but Steve had been thrown several yards away. When I got to him I knew he was seriously hurt because I could see the white of his skull through a gash across his head. Some locals I managed to flag down called for help, and when the Grimes County ambulance crew got there they could see immediately how serious the situation was. The called for the Life Flight Helicopter, which flew Steve to Hermann Hospital in Houston, where he was diagnosed with traumatic head and spinal injuries.

Steve was hospitalized from August 1999 through early June of 2000, a period that included time at Texas Institute for Rehabilitation & Research (TIRR) for rehab and therapy. Fortunately, Steve had thought to have powers of attorney papers drawn up for us several years before, which included putting me in charge of his medical decisions. Without those papers I would not have even had hospital visiting rights.

When Steve was discharged from TIRR he did not know what day or year it was; he was confused about people, and his actions were impulsive and often aggressive. He would wake up screaming that someone with a gun was after him, or some other far-fetched thing. His doctors insisted that he had improved cognitively as much as he was going to, that patients rarely make more progress a year after injury. They suggested that I place him in a nursing home because he would be unable to live independently.

I refused their advice and instead took Steve home to a new house I had leased, one that was more accessible than the two-story townhouse where we'd lived before the accident. For safety reasons, his Mom stayed with him during the few hours I was able to work every day. I am a machinist for the oilfield industry, and work with my father. This allowed some major flexibility to my work schedule, flexibility that continues to this day. I should also explain that by the time the accident happened, my parents had already started to come around to be more understanding. When they realized how destroyed I was to see Steve hurt so badly, they finally understood that our relationship was based on love, the same as theirs.

For me, a period of emotional devastation began, not because of Steve's spinal injury, but because of how different he was as a result of his head injury. The man I loved had been replaced by a stranger, a new and often aggressive person who did not know me or remember our past together. This was the hardest time for me because I was so lonely and I missed my partner so much. It was almost like dealing with his death.

I read about a clinical trial for head injuries at the University of Texas Hyperbaric Center in Galveston and within a week after Steve was discharged from the hospital I had him enrolled in the program. We went for forty Hyperbaric Oxygen treatments. I am convinced that this innovative approach was responsible for Steve's dramatic recovery. He started improving and making more sense during the treatments and his improvement continues to this day. He now remembers all of our past history and is able to make his own medical and financial decisions. His docs at TIRR even wrote in his chart that he has had a "remarkable cognitive recovery."

Last year we purchased a fully accessible house. It even has a pool with a lift so that Steve can swim, ideal therapy for him. The house is close to my work, in case of an emergency. It also means I can come by at lunchtime to cover some care giving duties.

I feel like our relationship is back on track: we can finish each other's sentences again.

 

Russell Byrd (at right, with Steve) is a native Houstonian who enjoys spending time at home with Steve and their two pets, Seska, a Siberian Husky, and a cat named Kitty. According to Russ, "Steve proudly mentions to anyone we meet that he has had Kitty for fifteen years, a year longer than he has had me."

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US Airways Plane Down in Hudson River - New York

So, if you haven't seen the news, some rowdy teenage birds were drunk and probably high on crystal meth and decided to down a US Airways plane that was departing La Guardia Airport.

The plane went down in the Hudson River around 48th street - right behind my apartment.  I saw the breaking news on TV - threw on as many layers as I could find (because it's 18 degrees outside) and went up to my roof.

There were about six other folks up there with cameras trying to get a glimpse of the catastrophic affair.  Unfortunately for us death-watching thrill seekers, we couldn't see the wreckage from our vantage point.

So, I headed downstairs and out the doors to the pier.  I walked what seemed liked several blocks, following drones of others who were obviously interested in checking out the same scene.  Along the way, I walked by Jon Stewart's studio at The Daily Show and witnessed a caravan of dressing room trailers lining the street.  Outside the studio entrance stood about 50-60 fans waiting to see if they could get last-minute tickets to tonight's show.  On a side note, last night I logged on to The Daily Show Web site and noticed there were still tickets.  Right when I was about to reserve one, they were snatched up!  Instantly!  Now, all of the subsequent shows are booked!  Devil!

Finally getting passed Jon Stewart's studio, I walked all the way down near 48th street before I was un-welcomed by squads of police officers and ambulances.  I wanted to get some video for you guys, but it was so cold I had to use my hands to block the wind chill by keeping my hood over my head.  My toes began to ache like there was no tomorrow and I could feel my legs beginning to cramp from the biting cold.  I knew at that point, this warm-natured Texas boy should start making his way back home before he fell victim to frost bite.

So, I turned back around and headed toward 52nd street where I found several backstage crew members smoking behind the studio building.  I felt a little jealous at first, because, secretly, I want to break back into the world of broadcasting.  I couldn't think of a better place to start than The Daily Show.  In fact, last night I applied for an internship with the show.  Even if I have to fetch coffee for Jon, it will be worth the experience.

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