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Mirrored Blog from My Web page

Inauguration Day was emotional on and off. I kind of teared up the way I did when Obama was elected, but since he was expected to win, I didn’t cry very hard at that point. Tuesday morning it was just wonderful to see real people take over leading this country. I was very touched, but nothing like that night when I got home and I started watching NBC News. A white woman with her two small children made me uncontrollably lose my emotions when she said that on the morning after the election she work up her children and said … (I’m choking up writing this) … "Martin Luther King’s dream came true last night." I had to call my daughter in and show the DVR’d news to her, as I wanted to explain why I could not stop crying. Then, moments later, a veteran of color who had served in a segregated army couldn’t contain his joy. I kept on crying harder, as if I haven’t heard an incredible number of stories of the aged trying to wrap their mind around what just happened. That day was truly glorious. Who is his right mind would not see the joy that this country is enjoying because of an invisible barrier that was broken?

By the time lunch rolled around, I was asked by the guys I was going to eat lunch with to meet them on the corner of "Obama and Second." I thought there was an inside joke, but in a way it wasn’t — check out what they meant. Unfortunately by the time I reached them, the placard had been removed. However, it did remind me of when Bush One was running against Bill Clinton. A block from my home in Brooklyn was the intersection of President and Clinton. I lived on President and Henry. I was watching the national news one night before the election that year in 1992 and someone focused in on the corner, and then showed that there was an intersection between Clinton and Bush. Mind you, these streets were probably named at least 200 years earlier. Then they pointed out something interesting. Bush Street did NOT cross President. That was gleefully prophetic.

Last week I finalized my dirt cheap plans to travel to Las Vegas and Honolulu within the next few months. In both instances I’ll be staying with friends. I’m also going to try to harness an opportunity to work from my company’s New York office, so that I don’t have to use any vacation time to take a week and visit there on my own dime. There are several things happening in my life that have made this much travel for almost nothing possible. The big challenge will be to see my family in Italy this summer, as it’s been three years, but I will make sacrifices if necessary to be able to do that.I’m also exploring more plans to host friends old and new here in California, which gives me a chance to show off my area and spend quality time with quality people. I’m excited about my prospective new housemate too. He reminds me of myself having a passion to live in another part of the country that he has been to before. My other short-term goals are to plan a trip to Mexico City and maybe San Diego.

Something’s been bothering me since I first started DVR’ing D.L. Hughley‘s show. I was very excited that someone so witty and politically savvy was going to have his own show on CNN, when he started out as a comic, especially because he is an African-American. Then I started watching the show and I realized that part of the schtick was that half of the "news" he talked about was satire and farce – on CNN – as if he was Jon Stewart on Comedy Central (who I am also not the biggest fan of, even though I was on the show of his protege, Stephen Colbert). It started to take a bit of the credibility that I had grown to enjoy on CNN, despite Anderson Cooper’s constantly avoiding his sexuality, while talking about homosexuals in the third person.

 

What really bothered me, though, was when Dan Savage was on D.L. Hughley and was too polite. I agree with 99% of what Dan Savage says, but I think he should have caught D.L. (which ironically is the acronym for the "down low") on his supposed liberal stance. D.L. said to Dan, "While I don’t condone [emphasis mine] the gay lifestyle…" Then D.L. went on to say he did not see any problem with gay marriage in theory. Wait a minute. Who asked D.L. if he "condoned" anything? Who said we needed him to "condone" it? How can he be liberal and in support of equality for people of all colors and those who are homosexual if he still thinks we need him to condone us. Well, I hereby declare that I condone D.L. Hughley being heterosexual and black and male and whatever the hell else he identifies as. I hope he feels better because I condone him, even if he doesn’t condone me.

Today I finally got around to watching "300," mostly so that I would understand the satire of it that I intend to see where the woman from MadTV plays a bald Britney Spears who gets kicked into an abyss. I don’t remember the name of the satire off-hand. Did I think it was soft, homoerotic porn? I remember so many gay men having strong opinions about it one way or another. I do not. Some of the special effects were unique for me. For example, I never saw them cut the legs off a horse or otherwise hurt an animal in any spaghetti western I’ve ever seen. I trust no animals were harmed in the filming of the movie and that these animals and most of the heavily clad, particularly dark-skinned and effeminate Persians were probably computer-rendered, which would have made a lot of the graphic violence much easier to film than to have that many extras. The movie is blatantly racist. I can completely understand how Persians would be insulted, because I was. Ancient Persian culture is no less amazing and worthy than Greek, particularly the barbaric, Draconian aspect of Ancient Greece that was epitomized in Sparta, which had little respect for Athenian intellect. I know that good art is rarely politically correct, but this movie went out of its way to make the enemy look bad in a way that was so obvious like the Star Wars trilogy had Darth Vader in a black suit (although the storm troopers broke that mold by wearing white).

Ann Coulter’s Kampf (struggle)

This is part of today’s blog that I posted to my personal web site (Haydennet.com):

 I watched the interview with WANNABE ARYAN PRINCESS Ann Coulter on The View yesterday, where she was promoting her venomous and predictably controversial book. She goes on and on about how biracial people in our society like our incoming president and Halle Barry "identify with the fathers who abandoned them instead of the hard-working single white mothers who raised them" (not that Ann thinks single mothers should exist at all, if you read on). Well, unmarried and barren Coulter doesn’t know squat from experience, and a lot of society doesn’t understand that no matter how HALF-WHITE my daughter is, for example, she is POLITICALLY black. That doesn’t mean she is not tremendously proud of her other heritage, which she is. There is nothing I can do about the way my daughter is categorized. Whoopi Goldberg, another parent of a biracial daughter, like me, said that her child and everyone else in society is going to be perceived as what people think them to be, not what they are. I remember years ago on Oprah this guy got up and said he was half Pacific Islander and half Persian, but everyone thought he was Latino, so he asked, "Should I identify as Latino?" That is where surnames (unfortunately) come in, perhaps, although that is hardly scientific. I am the perfect example of a surname not matching my identity, I think my 1/16th English surname has given me some privilege in America (see my blog about getting stopped by the police officer last August).

 
What was even more disturbing than the racial talk from someone who is lilly white and statuesque blonde, is that, throwing around the "L" word (liberal) was making her froth at the mouth when she asked Barbara Walters, a distinguished veteran journalist of decades, to continue reading the passage from her (Coulter’s) book "as if you are reading Mein Kampf"! There was a deafening silence and the next few segments of The View were complete fluff, so there was speculation that Ann was asked to leave. Does Ann know that Barbara is half Jewish?!? Does she REALLY think that a descendant of Jewish people in particular would EVER read anything that resembled reading it "LIKE" Mein Kampf? I know Ann is sharp-tongued and boisterous, but I really doubt she understood the gravity of the insult, as most people may not even be aware of the depth of the insult. And tell me, Ann, what the FUCK is reading something like Mein Kampf like, you straw-grasping psuedo-intellectual statistic-twisting bitch? I think Barbara Walters is an amazing woman for nothing else than not throwing the damn book at Ann!  Apparently Ann is very familiar with Hitler’s work, because she throws her hero’s book title around a lot.  She made headlines by calling Obama’s autobiography his "Dimestore Mein Kampf".

Do You Have Concerns About This Site’s Content?

For those who are concerned over what minors might find on this site, I do not feel there is anything on this web site that is not family-friendly.  There is some adult content like my private blogs beyond passworded areas of the public site, but that cannot be viewed by a casual peruse.  Indeed, all adult content I have is passworded.

While I cannot be responsible for your child’s unsupervised perusal of the internet, I can also not take responsibility for the content of the external links on this site.  To the best of my ability I try to include warnings on links which may contain some adult-oriented material, but the link description should make it clear whether you want to visit that site or not.  Content is subject to change without notification to me, but I am very careful not to allow anything deceptive to be linked on my site so that one would accidentally stumble across an external link that one did not intend to visit.

While I do not believe in censorship and I am not going to remove my opinions on various subjects from the site, feel free to contact me if you perceive anything to be inappropriate for the general public and I will take it into consideration.

As always, surf the Internet carefully.

Perpetually Online

The list of “critics” grows.  Today I was accosted on Biggercity by a member named “BartmanLA” who threatened to “report” me for violation of TOS because I was “lurking” on that site!  He must not have anything better to do than to monitor who is online for how long.  He actually complained that I was taking up bandwidth, but I reminded him that I was allowed to chat and that if I had not used the name “HaydennetDotCom” he never would have even known who I was!  I don’t like to be anonymous like so many people online, but I also reminded him that I could assume in infinite number of identities on there in the future and he would never know it.  BartmanLA on Biggercity.com is the jerk who exemplifies the caliber of men who care what I do with my social life. For convenience I have posted one of his glorious pictures here.  He’s a real beauty, isn’t he?  Inside and out.

I wrote this blog because I think it ridiculous how some people can speculate as to what my online agenda is.  I hope that this will clarify that while I have a very busy life, my computers have helped make me a more efficient father, friend, lover, son, sibling and citizen.  Besides, I’m an adoptive New Yorker.  If NYC never sleeps, why should my online persona?

Some people have prejudged my personality and social ambitions because I leave my computers online and often in chat rooms pretty much all the time.  I do have family on the West Coast of the USA and the East Coast, as well as in Europe and speak to people all over the world, so one never knows when someone is going to want to drop me a little note.

However, there is more to it than that.  I’ve always been the kind of person who likes to stay in touch and much of my days are spent keeping a meticulous database of the people with whom I like to stay in contact, even if I never meet them in person but have established some common interests either based on my web sites or wherever or however else they found me.  Isn’t that what life is all about?

Like books, computers are here to serve us humans.  I paid for my computers, I pay for my internet connection and I often pay for some sites that I use chat rooms on.  Even if I don’t, I am exposed to the advertisers on such sites.  Some people think I should explain my presence in profiles (not personal ads in my opinion as personal ads are solicitous).  If anyone should be questioned for their presence in various places on the Internet, one would think it would be those who refuse to do profiles because if everyone was like them, no one would ever find each other!

I guess I should just admit the truth.  I am trying to be omnipotent online (like gawd) so that I can rule the world.  Actually, the truth is that I do not subscribe to the school of thought that shutting down idle computers is necessarily good for them.  Many of my boxes (I have 11 at this time) do not even have monitors as I use switch boxes and remote control software to view them.  With live updates and low voltage on most computers it makes sense to keep a computer regularly connected and updated with patches and saves me the down time of starting the up and shutting them down.

More importantly, I run a business and a server from my home.  I have paying clients who depend on their web sites and email to be delivered around the clock, as well as my domains like this one.  If my computers were shut down, then none of these web pages would work and the email would bounce.  Accordingly, if my friends do not see me online, that means my server is probably down and will contact me to let me know, so it is a bit of a alert system for me.

I also shouldn’t have to explain that it would take a huge portion of my day if I was constantly logging in and out of chat rooms so that I would never risk the possibility of not responding to someone immediately.  Not everyone even deserves my immediate attention, but I endeavor to at least say “hi” to everyone who saw fit to private me in one forum or another and I always return mail as my schedule permits and depending on the time-sensitivity of the content.  If the person who chats me up when I am away has a profile with adequate means for me to reach him (or her) after I return to my desk or he has decided to log off for some reason or got disconnected, then I always prepare an apologetic email with how to get in touch with me more efficiently.  Not everyone checks their email or even allows email from my domain (AOL users please check your settings and Yahoo users check your quotas), but I do my best.

Furthermore, I think some people get the impression that I am sitting at my screen fixated every moment at what others are doing.  I have never been one to watch what is often insipid chatroom banter, but I certainly would not do so in all of the rooms I am concurrently in.  I am much more interested in people with whom I have something in common and who have an interest in me, physical or otherwise.

I have been told that I’m a hard-nose about chat netiquette, as I have a web page on the subject.  However, I like to think of myself as a zero-bullshit person and I think that most of the people who get to know me understand that when it comes to forthcoming people, I am a nice guy with no attitude, even if I have no interest in communicating with someone indefinitely, but that I lose my patience very quickly with people who are evasive online for whatever reason.

My online persona, including the perpetual room lurker, is not a fair assessment of who I am, but often people who wish to criticize me find fodder in my presence — or omnipresence as the case may be.  What I don’t understand is how they could possibly know that I was “everywhere” if they weren’t also.  And how could they know that I was “always” online if they were not logging in themselves around the clock?  Indeed, some of my friends use me as a test case to see if theirbuddylists are working.  If Joe Hayden is not listed, then they probably don’t have a valid connection!

Do I over-expose myself?  Perhaps.  What do I have to lose?  It’s not like I — as a single, custodial gay father — can go out hustling myself like many gay men and show my face in the bars every night, not that that would be appealing.  I have responsibilities but can be in various online areas simultaneously with very little effort.  I don’t have to be actively LOOKING for anything or anyone to be there.  It is my business, after all, who I engage in chat with and I know I have high standards for that.

So at the risk of over-exposing myself, I do have a valid argument.  Sometimes if I was not seen on various buddylists I would not be considered “available” for various social outings.  The old adage that “out of sight, out of mind” holds very true for buddylists.

Incidentally if I’m in a love or romance chat room, please don’t think I desperately expect to find a romance.  I’m lucky if I can even find a good conversation some days online.  I am probably in the rooms I am in just there because there were more men in there than the otherwise more appealing “intellectual” room, for example (even though it amazes me that even in there some men find difficulty in doing profiles).  I have made many wonderful communications with people who I originally met online so I’m not knocking it, but I am not desperate as I have chosen to be single and will deal with whatever comes my way.

Protected: Come Hither, Construction Worker

This is a true story. The names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent! Several years ago, during the summer, I was single and walking down Christopher Street in Greenwich Village. I was wearing very short cut-off jean shorts which are pretty slutty, but hey… It was getting rather late, so I figured I’d pop online and try to “order” some cock in when I got home.

However, as I meandered toward the subway station, I walked by a scruffy blond guy sitting on a stoop and I thought he noticed me, although I rationalized that he was just too hot and I just imagined it.  As I turned away, he had followed me with his eyes all the way down the street. Having honed my gaydar a tad, even by then, I decided to walk back and chat him up. I preferred to meet men spontaneously rather than online or in the bars anyway.  After all, we were near the gayest corner in New York City (Christopher and Bleecker) and one of the gayest corners in the country.

I forgot what he said, but he identified himself as having some typical Irish first name (but not Patrick) with the last name Mannering (his real last name, apparently). In fact, he said he was born in Ireland (had an Irish Pride/clover tattoo of some sort on his arm) and that he was 100% Irish stock.  I suppose this was to try to impress me. I’m 1/4 Irish myself, but I just thought he was hot.  He said grew up mostly on Long Island though.

He told me that he had just flown up from Florida where he was working on a construction job. He looked the part. He was a bit disheveled and his t-shirt, boots and pants were worn, with some paint splatter. It was a hot night to be wearing long pants. I asked if I could buy him a coffee at Tiffany’s (not the jewelry shop, but rather a café that then existed near 7th Avenue, across the street from Stonewall).  He preferred that I get him a beer, so I did. While I drank my espresso (hoping to get a good long fucking in with him eventually), he told me about how straight he was (blah blah blah), how he was afraid to go home to his Dad’s house in Long Island because his step-mother keeps making passes at him. He may have even fucked her once, but who cares?

So I just asked him what kind of guys he likes. He explained he liked them big and butch, like me (quel surprise – the blue collar worker is smart enough to use the right answer). Then I asked him if he wanted to come back to my place in Brooklyn. He said he wouldn’t know how to get back to Manhattan afterwards, so I assured him that in the morning I would myself be returning to Manhattan to attend a picnic with the Metrobears in Central Park, so I could hold his “paw”.

We got into a cab, which I probably paid for, although I don’t remember if he contributed. When we were in the cab we groped each other a bit for a while and he asked me if I was endowed. I told him that I doubted he would be disappointed and that no one had ever complained (except to say “ouch”). Then he surprised me with, “Oh, okay, because I am.” I nodded, but let him know that this was not a prerequisite or anything.  I hate size queens (it’s their boyfriends I love). I still found it odd to bring up at this point, since he would soon be in my pants anyway.

While he didn’t kiss (typical issue for purported straight boys) I fucked him twice and we sucked each other off. His ass had been fucked many a time before because I slid in like there was no tomorrow. His favorite position was sticking his ass in the air while I fucked him doggy style for all he was worth. We had sex like banshees for hours cumming multiple times. Lo and behold, he was not kidding. His cock was the thickest beercan-based 9.5″ (at least) I had ever had the pleasure of trying to deep throat. I do not think to that point I had ever had a bigger cock nor do I think anything I’ve ever even seen has been bigger . So much for what some people have told me about the “Irish Curse” and “Potato Dicks” (mushroom dicks with thicker heads than shafts).  Anyway, he was moderately hairy and extremely passionate in bed, despite his kissing issue. He did have some blisters on his toes, so I guess that means he had done a lot of wandering around since he got back from “Florida”.

After some major sex, I fell asleep in his arms (something I do because I like to do it and also because having a strange man in my house, I want to be awakened if he should decide to sneak out or wander while I’m fast asleep). We held each other and it was quite comfortable. It wasn’t one of those sticky, humid nights, so we didn’t even need the air conditioning and were able to go to sleep despite the close proximity.

In the morning he headed toward the shower and I asked him what he wanted me to make him for breakfast. “Beer.”

While he was in the shower I fried up some eggs and bacon.  Then I realized I forgot his damn name, so I thought I’d be clever and looked in his bag ever so cautiously. Without digging too deeply I saw a photo identification card with his picture and name which was something like Christopher (I honestly don’t remember and have no reason to protect his identity as I am using his real last name). So when he was emerging from the bathroom, I said, “Hey Christopher, you sure you don’t want some waffles?”

“Why did you call me that name?”

Shuddering, I said, “Isn’t that the name you gave me last night?”

He said, “You were going through my stuff, weren’t you?” I apologized profusely and explained that I had a terrible time remembering names (not true since we were drilled on this in law school) and that I just peeked into his bag for a moment to glean it from the card I saw. He continued, “Do you know what you were looking at?”

I defended, “No, I swear I was just interested in getting your name, not being nosy.”

He kind of chuckled at my obvious embarrassment and said, “That was my identification card from Rikers Island,” a high security island prison in New York City much like Alcatraz.

I said, “Oh?” thinking to myself that I just spent the night in the arms of the ex-con. No wonder his ass was so well-used for a “straight” boy. He went on to tell me that he was imprisoned for driving without a license (like I believe that). He said the reason why the card was actually not his name is because when they booked him, they presumed he was the same Mannering that was arrested for gun possession years ago. That Mannering was his father! So he let them screw it up so he would not have his charge on the record.

He continued drinking his beer breakfast (I happened to have beer in the house) and asked about real estate, implying that we would be spending more time together and that he would cook for me. He asked if he could borrow some money, so a little red flag went up. He saw my wallet on the coffee table and noticed some green stuff in it. I told him that I didn’t like to lend friends money (although sometimes it makes more sense to just give it away and not expect it back). Mannering claimed that he probably made more than I did per hour in construction and that he was just waiting for his check. He asked if he could borrow some cooler clothes so I pulled out this old pair of shorts that cost me like $3.00 second hand, a tank top and some cheap sandals. This is what he wanted to wear into the city. He left his construction boots, which I figured were worth more than all the ensemble that I lent him, not to mention his T-shirt and jeans, ragged as they were. I knew the sandals would be better for his blisters and I liked seeing him more scantily clad anyway. We talked on the subway ride in to his supposed appointment to see an apartment (although I had noticed that he hadn’t called anyone to confirm). He gave me his pager number (this was before everyone had cell phones) and we made plans for him to try to meet the bears and me in Central Park, or at least meet back at the apartment for dinner.  Obviously my daughter was with her mother this weekend, or I wouldn’t be having an ex-con come and go.

At the last minute on the subway he convinced me to lend him forty bucks, which I figured would not cause any harm. Of course I never heard from him again and the pager number did not work. I did some searches for Mannering online a few times, but nothing came up. I’m not sure what I would want from him at this point, except maybe some more good sex, but what a revelation to have found myself cuddling with a criminal (I was in law school at the time). While I am not buy-sexual, I realized at the time that I might be coming as close to hiring a man for sex as I ever would. Ironically that man says he’s straight, so gay for pay isn’t such a misnomer in this instance.  At least I got my money’s worth.

I’ve purchased many pairs of shoes since that day, but the pair I will be seen in most of the time will be the construction worker ex-con’s!