Robert StGenis Voice empowered

The Hudson River waterfront in the 80's was nothing like it is today. There were piers that were collapsing into the river, others in varying states of decay. The Intrepid was a new attraction and I believe became part of the Smithsonian while I was in high school. I recall a handful of years later attending a huge Gay Pride event that included I believe my first foam party. This doesn't sound like a big deal now but it was hugely symbolic at the time we were fighting for the right to serve in the US military. Hell's Kitchen in Midtown Manhattan was mostly still hellish with gentrification in its early stages. I lived there for a brief period in 1990 and will write about it in a future entry. Crime in New York City was also on another planet. There were 1,907 murders in New York City in 1986 vs. 562 murders in 2018. The homeless population was out of control and the smell of defecation and urine in subway stations sometimes made it nearly impossible to not vomit before...

Please be sure to read  AIDS 1. Junior year  and  AIDS 1-Senior Year. Part One  prior to this entry. It brings my story all together. You may also want to watch my short  It Gets better  video which is also a blog post on here as well. Then, you will have my years as a teenager, the fun, the sad, the good and bad. The collection of these posts bring together a formative part of who I am, as it is an important period of growth for all of us. You will likely find some of my story shocking, some entertaining, interesting, doubtfully boring. I didn't overall spend time writing about time on swim or soccer teams, or even much about going to school except a bit more in this last one. I wrote mostly about what you aren't expecting to hear from a teenager. My girlfriend Laura and I will also spend a great deal of time in New York City. Because Laura lived down the shore in Toms River, she was about 90 miles away. Getting together was never running up or down t...

If you have not yet read, please go back to  AIDS 1-Being a Junior  and read prior to this entry. Since I had moved to Morristown, New Jersey I was living two lives, in two ways. There was Robert the suburban high school student with a girlfriend down the shore and simultaneously Robert the closeted gay man and in many ways a recent arrival to New York City. Most people around my neighborhood at that time lived and worked in New Jersey and went into the city at best a few times a year for a play, for a concert or game. They might once or twice go in the course of a decade to a museum. I was there almost every weekend and any other time I could find a chance. My Father was initially commuting into the city everyday. I had to use bridges and tunnels, I was a not a bridge and tunnel boy. I was sneaking off into Manhattan on a fairly frequent basis and going to happy hours at Uncle Charlie's and popping into Julius in Greenwich Village; sometimes, well, often, that leading t...

We had given him a $50 gift card and sent him out to buy some things. He then went out for a few hours to a clinic appointment, if I recall, initially, with some $32 or so dollars left on the card. I had told him to put $10 on his TAP card for Metro (transit). Once before, I had given him a gift card and said this was a "lottery gift"; find out what's left and it's yours. He ended up with some $24 or so dollars. In this case, it was not a gift, rather something he could use to get us things or we could tell him or agree to allow him to use for himself. For me, it was a trust building exercise with a gift card that we were given for going to our vacation ownership presentation. He had an appointment at a clinic and is over on the edges of West Hollywood.  I am not sure he didn't even suggest that he might say he might head over to "Boystown" before coming back but we knew he wasn't returning right after his appointment, which actually made sense to m...

You should read  When you sleep with someone homeless in your house  ,  Tony Disappears  and  Tony Returns...  prior to this entry to be completely "in the loop." Just after the 1st of the month, Tony got his food stamp benefits, called " CalFresh " in California, and he sent me a text. This means he has received his $192 per month to assist with food and other "basic needs."  He texts me and says he is on his way back and wants to stop at the store and make us dinner. I find out after he got back that he received some from his mother as well, which made sense when he offered to buy wine and I knew that his CalFresh benefits did not cover it. He wanted to make us a pizza. I thought it was a nice gesture but being on a Keto diet that was not in my picture and I let him know we had no expectations of his buying or paying for food for us. He explained that the pizza was over chicken breasts with tomato sauce and pepperoni; that fit my diet. I still th...

As I start to write this, I again realize how quickly time flies and all the more so, it seems, as you get older. The It Gets Better Project was started in 2010 by activist, author and journalist Dan Savage and his husband Terry Miller following what seemed at the time to be an endless number of suicides of young gay kids throughout the US from varying backgrounds. As a gay man and one who never really was suicidal but definitely knows from being distraught, alone and in a state of despair, it definitively struck a cord. It motivated people like Dan and Terry to take on initiatives that I believe have helped many directly and equally shed a light and opened the minds and perspectives of many others. For my small part, at least in this direct "movement" I created this video. As you will learn about efforts I have made in the LGBTQ community, which are vast, they all should have some impact on a feeling of acceptance. Hopefully one that makes one feel less suicidal f...

Tony arrived with a bag from Target and the backpack we had given him. He had been staying somewhere on the Westside of Los Angeles (a favorable area) for roughly 10 days with some guy who had taken some romantic interest in him and then offered him some work, manual labor of sorts, like painting. But that story alters later, as he commuted from Silverlake (closer to Downtown Los Angeles or DTLA) to this guy's place in stories he tells me in days to follow. Perhaps it changed along the way. I am not doing a police investigation, so every detail isn't my primary objective. Once again, he had been robbed of his things, but not all of them. Among things that he seemed most disappointed about was that he has food there and couldn't get back in to retrieve it. Evidently the guy threatened to call the police if he didn't leave the property. My impulse would likely have been to let him call the police if he had my things. But, I am not him. I must remember drugs are involv...

The weekend after Tony had left our place he sent me a text message saying he needed to come by in the next "day or two" to pick up some "important document" he needed for something. I wasn't really sure what he did or did not have at our place. I know that he had very limited possessions in general. He seems to have had things stolen constantly, and people whom he stays with ultimately lock him out and keep his property. I have read and heard of many stories of problems with theft for those on the streets. While I could see some 'one' being vindictive enough to hold or discard his property I can't imagine why people would want his things. Canned tuna? Ragged jeans and tee shirts? Is there some gratification in throwing away another's belongings that I don't appreciate? He was at the library in Downtown Los Angeles (DTLA) and he would only have access to the internet until 1 pm. He would then have "spotty" access and let me know ...

He was soundly asleep on our couch. My husband, Mac, initially had all the lights possible off, but I eventually had to cook. We live in a loft. There isn't much segmenting. My cooking made noises and smells certainly. Mac and I ultimately had a rather intense, not argumentative, but important to us both, conversation while I finished cooking. Mac showered shortly after and went out to meet some friends. Mac closed the door slowly, creating noise still the same. Our one cat, Garnet, who has taken a liking to Tony since his arrival, jumped on and off him at least a half dozen times while he slept ever so desperately. He didn't awaken from the sofa for some 14 hours. I only met Tony at a club a couple Saturdays ago because we honestly had chatted on an online site and both were in Hollywood at the same time so I told him to come by. It is one of these sites I seem to spend a deal of time on, accomplishing nothing, but do entertain myself perusing when I am sick of looking at I...

In the beginning of 2019, we had a series of "blackface" incidents that came under the spotlight in the United States. One recent, but the other two, of US politicians no less, are history coming to surface. Most bothersome to me, though, was that these were people of my generation. Governor Ralph Northam increased the insult with fumbling through his apology, initially saying the photo does not represent who he is now. That, along with a track record he can point to, one might take as genuine. A day later, he denied the initial photo but said he wore blackface as a part of a costume as Michael Jackson and was about to demonstrate his moon-walking skills before his wife stopped him, suggesting it was inappropriate. Some defenders suggested that it was the sentiment of the time. It was the 1980s. That is my time as well. That is the time of Michael Jackson and the Cosby Show (we will just focus on all the positives of the show). I grew up watching The Jeffersons, Good Times, a...

Just over a week ago, on September 9, my therapist and I were talking about this blog and about memories. I alluded that many memories came into play during the Kavanaugh hearings during the summer of 2018. As I discuss in my earlier blog,  AIDS 1-Being a Junior , many of my premature "coming out" adventures occurred in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware where Christine Blasey Ford visits her family at their vacation home each year. Ford specifically said she was in a  Walgreens parking lot in Rehoboth discussing potentially testifying at one point and I have a visual in my head of that store and its location from many years ago, albeit I could be wrong, it's not a "hot spot" I just feel like I am certain I have been there. Rehoboth Beach, DE Boardwalk Kavanaugh also vacationed in Delaware and Ocean City, MD.  He was accused of misconduct in Ocean City, MD during Beach Week but it was never investigated, and brought to surface later by attorney Michael Avenatti. ...

Jana was our next door neighbor. She was one of no less than 3 children and I want to say the youngest of them in her home. Their family had worked their way up to our neighborhood. We were always pleasant, genuinely neighborly, helping one another out when needed with rides to pick up a car at the shop, lending items, etc., but did not have much in common. The previous owner Mom was a friend of my Mother's and I remember she had a cool Mercury Cougar. They spent time together. I think my Mom and Mrs."B" might have been on the same bowling team, but that was about as coincidental as their living next door. Mrs. "B" wore polyester (weren't they called "double knit"?) pantsuits from JCPenny. My Mother had never been to one. My Mother shopped at Saks Fifth Avenue and Bonwit Teller at the Somerset Mall.  I doubt she knew either store or where the mall was located. Mrs. "B" didn't care either; just as my Mother could have cared less about ...

I have always been convinced that the first 4 years of my life being on Lake Shore Drive in Chicago in a high-rise made me a birthright urbanite. My brother, 4 years younger, began life in a suburban home we moved to in Michigan, then on to another home in New Jersey, and has a disdain for cities. I live in Downtown Los Angeles, this ever-growing epicenter of roughly 2 square miles that was left as wasteland up to about 20 years ago. We are pioneers, arriving from the Westside about 12 years ago. I visit NYC, certainly Manhattan, more than my brother, who is 60 miles away in NJ, opposed to my being transcontinental.  The only times I hear of him in the city is for a Yankees game on a rare occasion and maybe a couple times for medical procedures. 3550 N. Lake Shore Drive #602, Chicago, Ill My first home My brother and I have little in common, but one thing has always been the enjoyment (I stop short of "profound love" as that goes to far stronger aficionados) of mus...