Steve Seeks His Soul Mate

I have lived, pretty much, in the same gay coffee house since it opened in the early nineties.  Other than a multi-year life in Dallas in which I spent all my free time drinking coffee at Crossroads, a real gay coffee shop and homo-themed book shop; The gay coffee shop on 9th and Downing on Denver's Capitol Hill was my second home. Every paper for school had been plagerized written within its walls.  First dates met and judged. Friends spending hours in quality dishing and chattering time.

Now it seems that time has moved on and this second home is gone. I mean, the business is still there, but its soul is gone. Sold to the highest bidder. This leaves me to find a new home. A new place to spend my time,  attending college, arranging first dates, and hanging out with friends.  So coffee house courtship begins. God, I hate dating. I mean when it doesn't matter, like guys, it's easy, but this hunt for a coffee shop is important.  I am seeking the type of soul mate that matches on the level of a coffee shop. It's important stuff here.


So here's my list: It must be hip/gay...ish, have munchies along with coffee, close to the gay area of town, have a decent area (with power outlets) to chill out and write, and have a continual flow of good-looking guys. And most importantly, not try to kick me out after six hours of writing. You would be amazed how hard it is to find a place like this.

I have begun my search today by writing this entry at a new place on 13th and Downing called Capitol Hill Roastery with the hip vibe of a bigger city, it held promise. The cute and bearded barista was adorable.  However; the power outlets were pretty much nonexistent.  So I fear I have not found my soul-coffeeshop.

I have this fear that I'm just a dinosaur. A gay that's left over from an earlier age when hanging out in coffee shops was cool. Now, maybe there is no need. I don't want to think I live in the wrong city. That I have a mindset of writing in a coffee shop like a New Yorker, or a bearded gay in Seattle. Denver, please prove me wrong on both counts. All I want was is a coffee shop somewhere; with a comfy chair... next to a power outlet.

Take Me at the Ball Game

As part of my quest to do as little as possible, other than enjoy the summer, this week was a family trip to the ballpark. My annual voyage to see the Colorado Rockies at Coors Field. 

The answer is "A"

Do you have a favorite spot to sit in a ballpark? Mine is on the upper deck above third base. Even back in high school, when I would ditch class and take two buses out to the Houston Astro Dome (back in the olden days when it was Houston’s baseball stadium) I would sit in this area. This preference started because If you arrived at the Astro Dome at just the right time, you could score free tickets from the Dome’s management. As the owners of the Astros and the dome wanted to show the area above third base packed on the televised games. At fifteen years old, I cherished being out on my own, sitting above third base watching the Astros play. Ironically, it was during these games when I made it to my own third base.* I have fond memories of those baseball games under the dome. Let’s just say that the song "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" always puts a smile on my face. 

Even though this weeks tickets were freebies, we found our seats in the upper deck above third base, and settled in for a great night of baseball nachos and pretzels. With the summer night air, and roar of the crowd, my quest to enjoy summer to its fullest is well on its way. 

*Third base = anal

Ready to Roll

I purposely positioned my bike next to the door I use every day to leave the house. This is to remind me  the ease of grabbing my bike, and going for a ride. This week; however, has been rather torturous in the bike riding department. 

Colorado has decided to not give up on winter and wants to keep the snow cranked up for a long as possible. Winter in Colorado is the Norma Rae of seasons. Monday I was the only student to show up to my American Civil Rights history class due to a massive snow storm. You would think the professor would cancel, but I guess he gets paid by the Microsoft slide show, so I sat alone in class and watched grainy photos of President Johnson, as I listened to Professor Nerdbear speak about President Johnson’s response to Dr. King’s response to Vietnam. It’s difficult to text during class when you’re the only one in attendance to a history professor verbally decipher the Lemarchand's box that was Johnson civil rights policy. On the way home from class I drove through 7” of snow, thinking how ready I am to put LBJ behind me and go for a bike ride. 

Yesterday it snowed again. Yes, it is April. I am chomping at the bit (as President Johnson used to say) to slap my bike onto the back of my car and head out for a long bike ride on the Platt River biking trails. 

Biking

I really want to ride my bicycle.


I have this thought every time I pass my well neglected bike, as it sits lonely on the front porch. Don’t get me wrong, I do ride my bike quite a bit. It really is more about going for a ride with someone else.

At one time Denver, CO. had a full page in its gay newspaper dedicated to GLBT social clubs. If you were a transgendered lesbian that enjoyed crock-pot cookery, there was a social club for you. During this heyday of social networking, I believe there were no less than three gay men’s bicycle clubs. One for the guys who thought Kevin Bacon was hot and yearned to race, one for the lovely ladies of transgenderedness, and one for… my style of biking.

My "style" is that I just want to put on some Lycra, my helmet adorned in the same graphics as a 1970’s shag-wagon, and my fingerless gloves to peddle around Cherry Creek. Is that too much to ask?

I guess I need to start networking.

International Auto Show

Ah, Spring. It is the time of year when a young man’s thoughts turn to love. Well, most men anyway. My thoughts turn to the upcoming International Auto Show. Like the swallows returning to Capistrano or gay men booking gay cruises, spring signals that it's time for new vehicles to be drooled over at the annual auto show, coming to town this weekend.

I’m not sure who started the rumor that gay men don’t like cars? Whoever said that gay guys aren’t butch enough to be Gearheads needs a good smack in the head with my Prada bag. Now, granted that most gay gearheads may not want to get down and dirty with gear ratio or pressure displacement, but if you want your bearings packed, look for a gearhead gay. It’s not that we, as a people, don’t necessarily like to work on cars, it’s that we have better taste and lust after cars for the aesthetics along with performance. Ask any gay to name Ford’s line up verses Audi’s nameplates and you’ll see.

This is why, coming weekend, the auto show at the convention center will become the hottest pick up spot in town. The gear-moes will be out in force, shopping for, or just drooling over their new crushes. Of the four-wheeled and two leg kind.

If you need me this weekend, I’ll be sitting in the cabin of the new F-250 Diesel. Or maybe the Dodge Ram 2500. I like them big.

 
 
To check out more information about the Denver Auto Show, click here.

My Furry Happy Weekend

We had three great days of sunny, warm weather over the weekend. Maybe our first truly warm days since fall, fell. You can tell that everyone was jumping on the chance to enjoy the great weekend by the hordes of people spilling into the park and jumping at the chance to go out on the town for dancing and mischief-making. Visitors to Cheesman Park were trying their best at soaking up the sunny weekend, not knowing when they’ll get the chance to feel it again. The running path in Cheesman was crowded as runners gave up the treadmill and ventured out into nature.


I watched all this unfold from behind the plate-glass of the coffee shop on 9th and Downing Street. I spent my weekend writing a paper on the topic of homosexuals and how they were portrayed in mid-century media. How movies and literature portrayed homosexuality as a sickness, something to be feared or pitied. As I typed away on the topic of self-loathing in the GLBT community, two twenty-somethings sat at the next table hatching a plan to raise funds to bankroll an awareness campaign for our local meal delivery program for people living with HIV.

I did put down the lap-top long enough to attend Bearracuda: A fun, friendly party for Bears, Cubs, and other wildlife. It’s like a circuit dance party for the happy, furry set. I’ll blame the weather, but I had an amazing time. My good friend Gary Givant was DJing and it's always a great to dance to his tunes. Gary is a Billboard.com DJ and constantly has his feelers out for new tunes; he seems to always have new, upbeat songs before anyone else. My opinion may have been skewed by the hot muscle dudes tromping around, but it seemed like just the perfect prescription to top-off the weekend.

The thesis of my paper was how our GLBT community had their identity originally formed by fear mongering, agenda driven media types. This was an attempt to drive self-hatred down into our very collative soul. It may have worked for a while, yet this weekend proved to me that we have come a long way.

THE ADVOCATE'S TOP 10 C&W BARS

The Advocate.com has released their Top 10 Country Gay Bars. Can I get a Yee-haw? Number One? The Round Up Saloon, Dallas.


Man, I have spent way too much time in this place. Standing against a wall wearing perfectly creased Wranglers with a wad of chew in my lip. And, as you will know it was used in season two of Dallas where Lucy Ewing was force to sing country.

Charlie’s in Denver was number five.




Wow, I have not been to Charlie’s forever. Do they still have two bathrooms, one to piss in and one for me..I mean people to fuck in? Find out where your favorite C&W bar ranked.

MANLY CITIES

The Associated Press released a story that ran on Denver's 7news.

No IKEA, a high level of sports teams, and monster truck rallies? Sounds like a nightmare to me. So, the AP just called me unmanly. To which I say:

“Get Her!”


Here’s the list of the Top 50 Manliest Cities:
1. Nashville, Tenn.
2. Charlotte, N.C.
3. Oklahoma City
4. Cincinnati
5. Denver
6. St. Louis
7. Columbus, Ohio
8. Kansas City, Mo.
9. Indianapolis
10. Toledo, Ohio
11. Memphis, Tenn.
12. Richmond, Va.
13. Columbia, S.C.
14. Orlando, Fla.
15. Dayton, Ohio
16. Salt Lake City
17. Milwaukee
18. Minneapolis
19. Cleveland
20. Detroit
21. Jacksonville, Fla.
22. Phoenix
23. Birmingham, Ala.
24. Grand Rapids, Mich.
25. Tampa-St. Petersburg, Fla.
26. Harrisburg, Pa.
27. New Orleans
28. Las Vegas
29. Pittsburgh
30. Philadelphia
31. Louisville, Ky.
32. Atlanta
33. Providence, R.I.
34. Dallas
35. Buffalo, N.Y.
36. Rochester, N.Y.
37. Baltimore
38. Boston
39. Houston
40. Seattle
41. Sacramento, Calif.
42. Miami
43. San Diego
44. Oakland, Calif.
45. Washington, D.C.
46. Chicago
47. Portland, Ore.
48. San Francisco
49. Los Angeles
50. New York

Who knew? Apparently having too many home furnishing
stores like Ikea in your city is a sign of being "unmanly."
At least that's the conclusion of a study released Thursday by Sperling’s BestPlaces that ranks "America's Manliest Cities" on criteria such as the number of professional major league sports teams, popularity of tools and hardware, and frequency of monster truck rallies. Denver came in fifth, New York City finished last out of 50
of the largest U.S. metropolitan areas.