Condoms and lube

I was cleaning out my work bag and there's this zipped compartment that I never go into and when I opened it, it was full of condoms, female condoms, and lube ... and I had totally forgotten about all that nonsense JACK carried around.

I admit I was a little bit disappointed in me for having need to carry all of that around with me in order to be ready at a moments notice to add another notch to my bedpost. It feels good to be past it.

I had a date earlier this week with a really sweet guy. We talked a lot and laughed a lot and all in all it was a decent, normal date. We walked to the red line together - I heading north and he south. We hugged and kissed on the cheek and said our goodbyes. And texted all the way home.

Reminded me of this old song ... remember this?

I'm not broken!

Had a conversation today with an ex co-worker who is at least 20 years my senior. It was an interesting conversation about what gay sexual freedom was, that he remembered people being arrested for simply BEING in a gay bar ... before the stonewall riots. I can hols my own in such conversations.

He wondered if maybe AIDS wasn't a good thing for the gay community because it really made us THINK about sex instead of being so cavalier about it. I thought that was interesting. DEEP. But interesting, or maybe lemonade out of lemons-like.

At the same time, he decided to tell me that I was neglecting a large part of my life. That I spent too much time traveling and all that and that I was giving too much of myself to my children and not taking care of ALEX. Although he respected my role as a parent and how important it is to me, he thought I needed more.

I tried to explain to him that I made a conscious choice last year NOT to just have sex for sex's sake and that I wasn't crazy. I went a year without sex from the last time I touched my ex-wife to the next time I felt ready to really do anything ... these past 8 months for me aren't a dry spell, or some sign that I'm broken. This is how I do - the real me isn't comfortable with casual sex for sex's sake and I have to be true to me.

Apparently, according to him, it's unnatural not to have sex.

What the fuck!? For the love of Jesus, we all spent the majority of our lives NOT having sex. I'm not saying I don't enjoy it - I'm saying, I've got shit to do. I refuse to let my dick point me in the direction I should go ... instead, I determine my destiny and I get there.

He admitted that he doesn't have kids and isn't at all paternal. In fact, he said he would toss a baby into the trash if he had one. (Graphic, I thought). In the end, we agreed to disagree, I think. I'm not sure. I don't think I got through to him and I think he's actually trying to pluck feathers off a chicken and shedding the blood of a goat in the name of getting me back to normalcy.

But I want to be perfectly clear about this. When I had conjured up JACK in order to be able to really handle promiscuity, I never once neglected my children. I wasn't late to pick them up from daycare .. even thought I was 200 miles away. I never once forgot to feed them, bathe them, help them with homework, give them their asthma medicine before bed, read with them ... tell them how much I love them, or kiss on them or love on them.

I have NEVER brought home a piece of ass, or otherwise introduced them to a bevvy of fuckers I've dated or bedded. They have a stable life, albeit it with parents who don't live together. They are intelligent, well-rounded kids who will contribute positively to society and through them my legacy as a father will live on far beyond my grave. That's important to me. And I was able to maintain that even when I was fucking a new dude every month ...

And you know what? Whether I am a whore or no, my kids won't have to deal with a FRACTION of the nonsense I had to deal with as a kid - the fighting, the arguing, the police, the lovelessness, the stealing, the lying, the taunting, the oppression. NONE of it. My role as a parent has nothing to do with my sex life, and I'm not giving TOO MUCH of me to my kids. It's ridiculous.

The truth is that my decision to STOP being promiscuous? It's for the same reason that man thinks I should be fucking my brains out. Because I deserve it.

Except I don't deserve sex. I deserve a man - the totality of a man. And I'm not going to find him treating my dick like a metal detector and men like pieces of scrap iron.

That's how I'm taking care of ALEX.

Open Mind

So, this dude who is trying to woo me ... I think JACK would have a lot to say about all the things that are wrong with him. I am trying to keep JACK in check, because I really did kill him off. I ain't tryin' to have him rattle chains and haunt me up in this bitch, ok?

Not quite as financially stable as I would like - a little bit more overweight that I typically care for - the mohawk (it's low and tight, but it's a mohawk!) ...

JACK, STFU, carajo!

Alex focuses on the fact that he seems to be genuinely nice - he's intelligent and tells me that it's my own intelligence that intrigues him. He told me he's trying to get to know me, not trying to fuck me ... (and he said it eloquently!) ... He's not caught up in any ex- drama (that I know of) and took a vow himself to cease casual sex and he's three months into it. (I'm six months into my own vow)

So - I'm keeping an open mind. Because when we speak - he makes me smile. Genuinely. I think this is what the whole "not fucking for fucking's sake" is about. He's fun and maybe eventually I can find him intriguing ... maybe in a few months I might LIKE him, like him ...

... or maybe in a few months we'll be boyz and making fun of stupid bitches who wear 4" heels for a walking tour of the City of Chicago.

I'm good either way.

Introducing ... Alex

Hi all. My name is Alex (not JACK). I've taken off the JACK cloak and stepped out into full visibility ... because, quite frankly, it's time. I'm happy about the decision to start anew, blogging without pretenses and without feeling the need to blame the crazy on some fictitious, made-up me.

Actually, it's funny that I thought I was actually HIDING the crazy by creating a fake person, pretending to be him and blaming him for all of the nonsense I didn't really want to admit was all me. Seriously, it's like putting candy coating on an m&m and then trying to convince people it's not chocolate. Dumb.

But I have felt lately that I've rediscovered me. And I think therein lies the catalyst that eventually brought me to this place where I lay down the JACK. On January 4, 2010 I smoked my last cigarette, for starters. 15 years worth of smoking, and I totally just let it go.

My daughter really got to me when she wrote that note under the Christmas tree, asking Santa to have me stop smoking. My ex-wife, their mom (damn shame I have to explain that), was diagnosed with breast cancer last year and the kids have watched her undergo chemo, lose her hair, lose her breasts and eventually her ovaries [rumor has it she was just fine to give her ovaries away] and their pleas for me to quit smoking so that I would not get cancer were heart wrenching. I decided that my smoking was now an indication of bad parenting ... and I can't have that. So, I let it go. Today marks 14 weeks without a cigarette. And it feels like a new me.

Before Christmas, in December, I decided that casual sex was just not working for me. I've met and slept with a ridiculous number of losers, more than I care to admit, and all in the name of "what the hell, why not!" And then I figured out why not ... because it's loveless, pointless and most of the time they're not very good anyway. So, we're going on about 17 weeks since I've had sex. I don't have a man, so I'm not fucking. It's actually pretty straight forward. And you know what? It's simple too. Now when I meet a fool, I don't have to wonder if he's bedable ... or (if he looks young) if he's mattress legal ... none of it even occurs to me at all. It's simple. "What's up, man" "Good to meet you" and then I keep it moving.

And guess what - I've actually met good people! Good people who stick around ... with whom I can form friendships that mean something. Those dudes just plain rock. It's nice knowing that if I need back-up, all I gotta do is say so. You know, as opposed to having a bunch of names in a little black book that each need a little explanation so that my memory is jogged.

First Name:John
Last Name:(Morris Ave nigga - 2nd Floor, rear door)

Nope, people actually have REAL first names and REAL last names. It's nice.

And you know what - I've actually been enjoying my kids more! Unfathomable, but true. I really enjoy listening to them more, and want them to tell me everything, and their hugs and their kisses are so much sweeter now ... and when they call me daddy and run into my arms, I'm reminded of what is really important.

My kids need to have a father. A father that's centered - and focused. A father who cares about them and talks to them and shows them what love looks like, what family looks like. (because Lord knows I didn't have that image growing up!)

And the bonus is ... If I'm centered and focused, only THEN am I really available to a man to be his man ... and I owe JACK that much. He's helped me realize that the more I let the nonsense persist, the less likely I am to find the very thing I'd like to have ... a dude that compliments me, inspires me to be a better father and wonders where the hell I've been all his life.

Until then ... I've got a whole lot of Alex to impress and to be impressed with.

I'm on my shit now.