Whether you like it or not, we fall into certain categories in our communities

We in the community always have a certain flair for describing each other. Be it in love or dislike, most of us always speak our minds.
I was having a rather lighthearted conversation with someone a couple of weeks ago, and all of the sudden, in the middle of our talk, he referred to me as a dream lover. No, he wasn’t interested in me – that’s not why he said it. He said it because I was telling him about the first man who ever said he was interested in me.
In short, the first man who was openly interested in me was this older gentleman, a wealthy antique dealer who was at least two decades my senior. This was about 13 years ago when I first came out, and although I was flattered that he wanted to be in a relationship with me, it was just not the right time for me.
To be honest, I wasn’t really attracted to him – I had sex with him the first day I met him because he liked me and I wanted someone that particular night. Hey, don’t judge – sometimes the lady really is a tramp.
Anyway, my friend said I was a dream lover, as he put it, because he joked that I always have to know that down the road I will eventually find myself in love with the person I get involved with and I rarely can look past the passion – or lack thereof – and just grab an old, rich man and settle for security because love is overrated.
See, he used to be a dream lover – waiting for the perfect man. He did that for years … until he took a long, hard look at himself in the mirror and said to himself, “Screw finding love; I’m finding a rich man who wants to be with me and support me.”
So he took his good looks and went to a club in Manhattan where older men frequent, and boom – he found his older gentleman. The two have been together for almost 10 years now. He admits he’s still not in love with his man, but it affords him the ability to work at a non-profit without being paid much.
But I digress. The focus of this blog post isn’t discussing his life’s choices. The main point is that we were discussing the concept of the many classifications upon us in life. It turned into a hilarious conversation because of the classifications. These are not set in stone or terms everyone uses – meaning it was just a funny discussion between two friends that I thought I’d share.
Here’s just a few of them:
The dream lovers, as described, usually end up waiting for the white knights to ride up with the perfect love, but we need to stop dreaming because that rarely happens. So that’s the dream lovers.
Then there are the maestros. Those individuals are very skilled at their game and usually have their pick of who they want to enter into sexual relations with, and who also rarely care about how it affects the person they take home with them. Maestros rarely ever get their hearts broken, because they are breaking the hearts of those they bring home.
Then there are the HGNs. This term, already out there and used frequently, is the shortened term for hot gay nerds. These are the sexy men who are into the world of science, technology, video games, fantasy worlds of some sort, animations, gadgets, internet start-ups … you get the point. These individuals are cute brainiacs who can stimulate your mind as well as your body and soul.
We were discussing the dogged. Now these individuals literally look like they’ve been around the block a few thousand times. They’ve been with everyone and anyone, and don’t care that their reputation is shot to hell. The only thing about the dogged ones is that they’ve already been through about 70 percent of the population on the East Coast, and not many people are interested in seriously being with them at all. A don’t see them too often, but when I do, all I really feel for them is a sort of pity.
Then there are the smooth operators. Now these people might be the maestros, but there only thing distinguishing them from maestros is that for the most part, everyone already knows their moves. Sometimes these people are just too smooth for their own good. Their targets see them coming a mile away and already have made up their minds if they want to deal with them or not.
We discussed those individuals who fall into the “adorable” category. He said that I often fall into that category, but of course Miss Bernadine (my alter – for those who’ve just met me) knocks me out of that category when she’s around. To be truthful, I find adorable guys, well, adorable. Everything about them is adorable. Their thoughts, the way they carry themselves, their genuine qualities, how they make you feel very comfortable in their presence. Adorable guys just get my juices revving, if I must say so myself.
Then we were discussing the ruggedly handsome. I’ve spoken about those men from time to time; those gentle men who could, literally, toss me around like a rag doll (I think you get my point with that description). They are sexy, strong, confidant, very friendly and they just have that innate ability to make a person feel safe when in their presence.
We bantered about the confused. These individuals really don't know what the hell they are doing. They enter into romantic entanglements, most times with their eyes sealed shut, and they make a mess of it. Then they will ultimately complain about their harrowing experience, and then in their next romance, they repeat the same mistakes over again. They are cute but clueless.
The victims. Now discussing these individuals almost made me want to cry - or vomit. Victims are those put-upon people who always seem to be the victim, play the victim, act like a victim, or fake it as a victim. "Woe is me" is their song of choice, and they will never change until they get stronger or more confident in themselves. Another group that's cute but clueless, but unlike the confused, these individuals will get on your nerves.
Oh, then we spoke about the pretty boyz. They are all around, and my friend is lumped into that category (although he vehemently protests that distinction because he says he’s much more than that). Pretty boyz can be fun, loving, lively and a great joy to be around. There’s only one problem – with some pretty boyz, a lot of admirers are a bit fearful of approaching them because they are so pretty. It’s a Catch-22, because they could be the best match for someone but their pretty looks and actions sometimes make them seem unattainable.
It’s easy to find that you fall into more than one category. Sometimes that's a good thing; sometimes not so much. But wherever you fall, enjoy it while you can.
So, my friends, this was part of that conversation. I thought it’d be a funny thing to write up. Can you see yourself in any of those categories? There are undoubtedly more categories, and these descriptions go for both men and women.
My final statement to him during our conversation on this subject:
“Dream lover?!? You couldn’t lump me into the pretty boyz category? … Bitch!”

I don't regret the times, but I don't want to be Penelope Pitstop either

A mysterious funky mood falls over me every once in a while. I have no idea why it happens, but it just occurs and stays for short time. This happens to all of us, but for me, I know it’s just residual feelings about a vicious cycle in my life.
Whenever this occurs, there are two songs that I listen to incessantly. The first song, “Alone Again, Naturally” by Gilbert O’Sullivan, speaks to me on so many levels. You see, in my relations over the years, I’ve found myself getting involved with individuals who aren’t really in a position to get involved with me for any long-term situation.
My last blog post, “Sometimes an affair to remember should not be forgotten,” addressed the fact that any sort of sexual indiscretion should be treasured and not regretted because it makes you the person you are today. And that I, myself, never feel guilty over any of mine.
Well, perhaps I don’t feel guilty, but I do look inside myself to figure out something that continues to elude me. I try to figure out why, even though I don’t regret it, why I sometimes (upon reflection) feel a little slighted.
Well I know why, and I must admit, it’s a little shameful to admit out loud. In a number of those situations, I always feel like I’m just the pit stop for the guy to reach his ultimate goal. They tend to find their loving partners after they spend time in my universe.
Sad to say, but there are two types of lovers – the ones you want in your future, and the ones you can only see in your past. This situation always reminds me of “The Way We Were.”
A brief synopsis of the film if you’ve not seen it: Barbra Streisand’s character, Katie, falls in love with Hubbell Gardiner, played by Robert Redford. Hubbell is a WASP who aspires to be a screenwriter; Katie is a politically active Jew, and after the two marry, her activism threatens Hubbell’s reputation in the industry. The two divorce some years later and both move on to other spouses. He marries a simple, Jackie Kennedy-type woman, but it is so evident that, even though Katie was so strong-willed, that is exactly the type of woman he needs.
This marks my point: Most men know they need to be with a partner who is safe, the Jackie Kennedy-type when you are making your moves upward in your gay life. But those men are well aware that you do need those activists who don’t sit back quietly and take the safe route in life, the guys who will challenge you to make the uneasy choices, and who’ll stand right by your side, not two steps behind you.
Some of us are Katie; some of us aren’t. I know that in certain relations, I’m too much of a Katie; it’s inbred in me, and I can’t change that about me. That may cause me to find that I’m the type that guys can only see in their past, because I don’t walk two steps behind the man I get involved with … I walk beside that man, or, *gulp*, in front of him. I’ve never been a shrinking violet. And who truly wants to be involved with the Jackie Kennedy-type of guy? Well, it appears a lot of guys do.
So this is one of the reasons I find myself in that funky mood at different times, when I feel like people just don’t understand me or get me. So it’s these times that I listen to Gilbert O’Sullivan’s song.
Now I said that I listen to two songs during these moods. The other song is sort of my redemption song, what I play in my head – and on my radio – over and over. This song, Gladys Knight and the Pips’ “I’ve Got to Use My Imagination,” is sort of an anthem for me.
This song reminds me that, although I may not be everyone’s dream husband material, I have a hell of a lot of things to offer, and if guys can’t see that and only look at being involved with me as a pit stop to their future ex-husband when boredom sets in, it’s their loss not mine.
There is a verse in the song that trumpets for me:
“Staring down reality
Don't do me no good
'Cause our misunderstanding
Is too well understood
Such a sad, sad season
When a good love dies
Not a day goes by
When I don't realize
I've really got to use my imagination
To think of good reasons
To keep on keepin' on”
Yes, sometimes we all must use our imagination, just to keep on keepin’ on. So, I guess this is something I need to work on changing about myself, allowing men to use me as a pit stop. I’m determined to break this cycle – even if it kills me.
The song, it just puts a pep in my step and I just grab a scarf and get to dancing – by myself, with others; heck, anything I see.
Now I don’t regret any of the “pit stops,” because it has made me the man I am today. I love myself first and foremost, so I know that as long as I have a strong and abiding love for myself, that’s the best I can have … next to God’s love.
So for those many men – the “Hubbells” in my life over the years – who have considered me their pit stop, I thank you. That probably sounds weird, but if not for all of you, the man I ultimately settle down with will know that he was chosen, not settled upon. And he will accept the “Katie” in me for all her glory.

Sometimes an affair to remember is one that should not be forgotten

(*I wrote this blog post last week, but for some reason it was difficult to post. I'm still not quite sure why, but perhaps it will come to me later*)

I’m sure we’ve all been there. You know, doing something and then immediately regretting it. Sometimes you feel guilty or remorseful about an action, and then you inevitably beat yourself up for it over and over.
This is going to sound pretty odd for those people who know me pretty well, but I can’t lump myself into that category. Things I’ve done in the past since coming out, I rarely ever feel guilty, or remorseful, or regret. I’ve felt in a lot of ways that perhaps once I came out, my system was not programmed to have those feelings, you know those, the “I regret that moment” gene.
When it comes to any sort of affection, if I’ve participated, I never feel guilty or regret it. The only emotions of this sort that creep into my being is if the other participant harbors those feelings. I’m not saying that I’ve never felt those pangs of guilt over something, but growing up and spending about two-thirds of my life under the thumb of religion, perhaps I’ve been in a position to compartmentalize those feelings.
I don’t take those feelings away from anyone. People feel what they feel. That’s the human experience, and in a way, I feel some jealousy for those who are able to have those emotions. I rarely envy others, but when people intake those emotions, I wonder if I’m just not equipped for that.
I try never to let someone think I don’t understand when they express the emotions, because in my mind, it makes me think that I’m belittling them or their feelings. Trust me, I am an empathetic soul and would never let anyone think their feelings aren’t genuine. It’s just hard to understand why they beat themselves up over it.
I guess in the back of my mind, I’ve not let people know that I don’t regret or feel guilt over any sort of sexual indiscretion or displays of affection, perhaps stolen kisses … I thought others might think I’m a sociopath or something.
Don’t worry, I’m not a sociopath. I just spent almost three decades forced to keep any displays of affection – in the Biblical sense – out of sight, and it gets very overly-cautious. I had to spend all those years celibate for the religion, and I tell you, once you get the chance to break out and set yourself free, you learn pretty quickly that the emotion of guilt and regret over those indiscretions are overrated.
It’s so funny how I’ve learned as a gay man to separate guilt. Trust me – I do feel guilt, but not in relation to any sort of indiscretions where emotions are involved. You learn after living years not in a position to express joy in many acts, having to save yourself exclusively for one person, you definitely would take full advantage of being able to express yourself sexually.
Once I claimed my sexual preference and busted out of that closet, there was no stopping me. And it was a difficult process, leaving my religion behind (but remaining religious) and it took some time to put things in check for myself.
My therapist (yes, I do consult one from time to time) said something pretty funny to me – not funny hah hah, funny peculiar. He said that I do have feelings of guilt and regret, and I have those feelings because I don’t have feelings of guilt and regret. In a nutshell, I feel guilty because I don’t feel guilty over any sort of indiscretion; and coming from a world of religion, that’s just not possible. And yes, he could very well be correct.
When I do run into someone who I’ve had any sort of intimate experience with in the past, I never feel bad or guilty; I’m actually pleased to see them. I never feel awkwardness because we have shared something, in my book, ultimately special. So when I run into the person(s) and see that they may feel awkward or uncomfortable, I truly wish they wouldn’t feel that way because I, myself, don’t feel that way.
Growing up in the church, and having to hide away all those feelings and emotions, it gives a person a sort of rejuvenation when you no longer have to do so.
I guess the moral of this particular blog, to put it in its simplest form, is that no matter what happens with a person, it is okay to feel a sense of contentment and look on an indiscretion fondly. It was a learning experience about oneself, and there is no regret about taking heart in the knowledge that, for a moment in time, you took a chance on bringing satisfaction to your life in some way, shape or form.
Take advantage of these moments, people. Life, as we all know, is way too short and as long as we always try our best to enter the experience with both eyes wide open, we have no reason to feel guilt or pressure to regret.
So smile when you run into that person with whom you’ve shared a moment in time. Because as long as you’ve taken a little positive away with you from the experience, it’ll be alright.

Hi my name's Eric, and I'm addicted to emotionally unavailable bisexual men

I consider myself a fairly intelligent homosexual man. But I suppose any amount of intelligence can fly right out of the window when an attractive man gives you the time of day.
I’m single – painfully so, attractive (in my own opinion), fun-loving, with a big heart and infectious laugh. I take care of myself, eat right, enjoy the company of others and am fiercely loyal. Some look at me and my actions at times and consider me a Pollyanna. True, I can be too trusting and see the world through rose-colored glasses.
Okay, this is beginning to sound like a personals ad. But I digress…
I do think of myself as intelligent. So it boggles my mind that I continually find myself in the situation that I lap into on occasion. And I wish there were a 12-step program for my compulsion. My compulsion, you ask?
I’m addicted to bisexual men, especially the emotionally unavailable ones.
I’m as amazed as anyone that I find myself in that situation. I mean, my usual type of man that I find myself attracted to have been men in their mid-40s to early 50s, attractive, muscular, with salt-and-pepper hair. The professional gay man, established with a strong sense of who he is and what he wants to do. Those are the men I find most attractive.
So why, or why do I always find myself in the throes of romantic entanglements with bisexual men who just want to use my heart as a middle ground between loving themselves too much and finding the next woman who they ultimately will leave me behind for because the moral society is much easier for them as a man with a woman on his arm? This is the question I ask myself in the mirror; I’m just waiting for the mirror to answer me back.
I know all too well that there is a definite allure for a gay man to want straight men. That’s a given. But I’m not talking about straight men. I’m speaking of the men who are at the crossroads between the land of straight-hood and being a fabulous gay man. They don’t want to make that leap, so they linger in the middle swampland and just stay.
There most definitely needs to be a 12-step rehabilitation program for gay men like myself, who just can’t help themselves. Bisexual men are like Reese’s peanut butter cups for me – I am addicted to the sheer joy of the taste, and although due to health reasons I cannot enjoy them anymore, when I pass one I just can’t resist. My mouth waters, my eyes twitch, my heart races, my blood boils a bit, and my hands get sweaty. After all, no one can eat just one.
My last most-recent encounter with a bisexual man, who I’d sworn off because it’s just a merry-go-round of heartbreak each time he enters my universe, did not turn out like I’d thought it would. He’s still the same person who I was addicted to before. And I’m glad he is, because it makes it easier to move on and leave him behind.
He did teach me one thing, though. He taught me that he, along with so many other bisexual men, are unattainable and unable to commit anything to me because there will always be another woman in the wings.
It’s hard enough for gay men to have to continually worry that they may lose their boyfriends/partners/lovers to another gay man. But when you add in the prospect and fear that you could lose him to another woman as well! Well, that’s just too much to take at times.
So if there is a support group or rehabilitation program out there, send me the phone number; I need it. And friends, if you see that I’m slipping into falling off the wagon, I give you permission to scurry me away from the “drug” and lecture me endlessly.
I promise I will thank you!
(*Editor’s note: To my readers and followers, this will begin a new schedule for my blog. Starting today, my blog will post bi-weekly on Sundays. So enjoy!)

So ... how far would you go in an effort to right some wrongs done to you?

Hello folks!
The following item is a blog post I wrote two weeks ago, but I had to do some soul searching to come to the conclusion if I truly wanted to go through with my plans. See, if I do this (what my blog talks about), I could be destroying a person's life and imploding a relationship.
True, all the parties involved need a rude awakening. And I don't really care about any of them any longer.
But I just need to be certain that I am okay with what I need to do, and I've been agonizing about all of the repercussions.
So I put it out there ... what would you do?
Read on:
Once a year, just like a birthday, Miss Bernadine decides to clear out her treasure chest and find that one item that she feels that the world just needs to know, and she spills the “T”.
That time every year is fast approaching, that day is this Friday. I’ve never really got any clarity on whether Miss Bernadine wants to morph into Miss Karma for that day, or if she’s just damn tired of seeing others get the upper hand. I guess it’s her way of making sure that people don’t trample on her feelings.
True, I’m a sensitive soul, and things do hurt me from time to time. A lot of things affect us all. For me, a couple of things that get to me would definitely be when people only see the color of a person’s skin and refuse to look past that. My motto has always been “Whatever anyone thinks about me is none of my business.” But there are times that I do actually care, because when people judge others simply by their race, it’s downright tragic.
But I digress.
This Friday (actually this week), something tremendous and difficult is happening in my personal life. I really can’t go into details at this time, but it has been the most stressful thing I think I’ve had to deal with in my life thus far.
But as this pivotal milestone has been uppermost in my mind and just doing whatever I can to get over this particular hump and not crush people in my path, it has occurred to me that I may have been working overtime to not hurt a person because I didn’t want bad karma coming my way. And I didn’t need any of that in my life.
But I think I got that incorrect in my mind, because keeping this secret so others wouldn’t get hurt in the process, I’ve hurt myself by keeping it. There are times when people have referred to me as “Charlotte”, the “Sex in the City” Park Avenue Pollyanna who just thinks that “Gee, if you wish hard enough, and do the right things always, you’ll be blessed with a good man, a great job, good karma and only the best in this life.”
It was a good thing that I had my alter – Miss Bernadine – to balance out that way of thinking. Because I did believe my “Charlotte” side … but it’s seeming like I can’t follow that philosophy, at least not anymore.
And this secret I’ve been holding on to, to spare feelings, well it’s just not worth it any longer. So at the end of this week, I am not only dealing with a stressful milestone, a turning point, in my life, but I’m also going to let the secret out. And I am going to have to tell the person. In all reality, I don’t believe he deserves to be spared the truth, because maybe the truth is no better than the lies.
I was dating someone last year, and I tried hard to get past a few things that he did and not hold the past against him. Well, I may have been the best thing he ever had in his life, but that just wasn’t enough to keep me around. Before we ended things, he was with another man. Oddly enough, I didn’t really care that he was with another man, because as the saying goes, “I can do bad all by myself.”
What hurt was that the person he stepped out on me with was a friend of mine, a married friend of mine. I was so pissed at this friend that I just wanted to tell his husband. But my “friend” begged me to keep it secret and not destroy his marriage, and the Charlotte in me gave in and kept his secret. Well Miss Bernadine just no longer agrees to do so.
I’ve been hurt a lot in the past two years, but I’ve kept it all inside and took it all, no matter the cost. It’s not good for a person to do that, just because everyone expects it from you.
It’s time that others had to answer for their actions. So I’m getting it out in the open and telling the husband. I mean, why should I care what happens to the happy couple? And maybe a little piece of me wants to repay the guy who I did so much for and put myself out on a limb, more times than I want to recount. I let him in my little world, and he let me down in so many ways.
This week, I really need to reclaim that spark that made Miss Bernadine shine. I really need to once again be on the inside what I’ve been trying very hard to show on the outside.
I’m taking back my life – personally, professionally and spiritually – with no Rupologies! I mean, it’s true – if you can’t love yourself, how in the hell are you going to love anyone else? RuPaul is a role model of this queen (thus her words ring true in my ears), and I need to find my way back to fabulousness – something that RuPaul truly believes in doing.
No matter what.
So I ask ... what would you do if you were Miss Bernadine?

Asbury Park Bear Weekend, Aug. 14-16, is an event not to be missed

Get ready, people!
The weekend of August 14-16, there won’t be any lions, there won’t be any tigers … but there sure as hell will be a lot of bears!
During that weekend in the city, we will be celebrating the 2nd Asbury Park Bear Weekend. Last year’s weekend was a major success, and as it seems to be shaping up, this year’s activities will bring a lot of fun to Asbury Park.
This is just one of the many ways that we as a community come together, enjoy each other’s company, work hard to support a worthy cause, and have a freakin’ blast being a part of something bigger than ourselves. And boy, do we in the LGBTQ community know how to party!!
The festivities begin Thursday with a pre-party at Georgies Bar, from 9 p.m. to 2 a.m. And that’s just the beginning.
On Friday, registration for the weekend will begin at the Hotel Tides Restaurant & Spa at 4 p.m. A meet-and-greet will be held at the hotel from 6 to 8:30 p.m., and you can partake in some “Bear Bingo” and enjoy some light fare. Starting at 9 p.m. comedian Peter Bisuito presents, "My Big Funny Peter" at Paradise. There will be drink specials all night for package holders, and a $15 cover for non-package holders. Then from 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. get into the groove with “Bears in Boxers” while DJ Jonny Mack spins at Paradise.
Below is a compilation of the events for Saturday:
9 to 11 am.: "Grrr Mornin" Breakfast at Paradise Sundeck*
9 to 10 a.m.: "Yoga for Bears" Poolside at The Hotel Tides*
11 a.m.: Recovery Meeting
11 a.m. to 5 p.m.: "Bears on the Beach" 5th Avenue Beach Party
Beach Badge included for all package holders*
6 to 8 p.m.: "Cigar Party Beer Bust" at Georgies
Includes: 1 Cigar and unlimited Miller Lite Draft for package holders*. Complimentary buffet and hosted by Mr. NJ Leather 2015.
8 to 10 p.m.: "BearLesque" followed by "Beareoke" with DJ Ted D'bierre at Georgies
*$5 Cover for non-package holders*
10 p.m. to 2 a.m.: "The Woof Ball" featuring DJ Stephan Durkin at Paradise
*Includes: Free Admission to Paradise and discounted drinks for package holders*
Below is a compilation of events for Sunday:
9 to 10 a.m.: "Yoga for Bears," held poolside at The Hotel Tides*
Noon to 5 p.m.: "Bear Watch" Pool Party at the Hotel Tides, with a special appearance by BearDonna.
*Includes: Admission to the pool, complimentary food and bobbing for apples for package holders*
Drink Specials for package holders. $25 for non-package holders
5:30 p.m.: Tea Dance at Paradise*
* Included for Package Holders
As you can tell, the weekend will be full of lots of fun, frolics and fantastic bears. It’s not to be missed. For more information, you can connect to the Facebook page for the 2nd Asbury Park Bear Weekend by clicking this link. You can also go directly to the website at http://asburyparkbearweekend.com
A portion of the proceeds will be donated to Project R.E.A.L. of Asbury Park.
This weekend is presented by Hotel Tides, DragonsLair Productions and Asbury Park Bear Weekend, LLC. Some sponsors are Conover Agency, Georgies Bar, Miller Lite, Ketel One Vodka, Yestercades, Paradise, and BearGuide.net.
Get in gear, because there will be Muscle Bears on the Beach, Polar Bears in the pool, Cubs on Cookman Avenue, Otters from out of town, Chasers, admirers, our friends and even the occasional Goldilocks.
(P.S. – And Goldilocks … that will most likely be yours truly – you’re quite welcome!!)

How are we supposed to feel when death comes knockin' at the door?

One of the most difficult issues facing all of us is life and death.
You are supposed to, as we have all been told over and over, conduct yourself in such a way that the life you live will pave way for the way you are remembered and cherished once you leave this Earth and take your place in the heavenly beyond (assuming you do believe in it).
But I guess I’ve been thinking about this concept a lot more recently, as a number of people in my life have passed away. And in my community, the LGBTQ community, once one of our own passes away, we remember them fondly and do whatever we can to make those left behind feel comfort and solace.
But what happens when one of our own passes away, and that person has not been the most, shall I say, pleasant for so many to deal with over the years? How do we treat this person after he or she passes away? Do we hold a benefit to make the expenses less trying for that person’s family? Do we gather together as a united front and remember that person’s life? Do we put something together to make that person’s death more bearable?
Or do we care at all?
These are some questions that have plagued a number of us in the community. Some don’t know how to feel, or whether to feel anything at all. For me, a very spiritual person who was once a member of the ministry, my thoughts are divided. And that makes it much worse.
When a person who has made life sometimes difficult for so many members of the community passes away suddenly, what are we supposed to do? What are some of us supposed to do with the grief we feel, perhaps not for the person, but for respecting the life of a person? We’ve always heard – or I’ve always been told – that everyone has a voice in this world, and it’s up to every one of us to make sure we do our best to make others feel love.
Right now, this is a difficult thing for me to comprehend. And I think that there are always a couple of handfuls of individuals who can successfully separate the good person from the bad person, especially when that person leaves this Earth.
And as I’ve mentioned to a few friends, dealing with a particular person’s death, and wondering what this person’s death means to us – the ones who loved him unconditionally; the ones who tried to reach out to him, and sometimes got their hands bit off; the ones who loved to hate him, and hated to love him; the ones who he betrayed without feeling any remorse until it was too late; the ones who he hurt so easily because he was hurting himself; the ones who he made to feel a little stupid for giving a damn about him; the ones who actually reached him and were able to get into his heart and understand the demons he faced daily – wondering what we all are to do now.
The religious person in me can only pray that this person has finally found peace. He has to answer for his actions now, on his own. And he must face what is coming.
I’ve told a few people that this would be one of the most difficult blogs to write because I’m right there with so many others, wondering what the hell we are supposed to do with all these odd emotions. To be truthful, there's a part of me that doesn't care - and that makes me feel a bit off because Mama didn't raise me to feel such things. Sure, many can joke that this queen is just a “Park Avenue Pollyanna” and I feel too deeply and emphatically for my own good, even when the person doesn't deserve an ounce of it.
But I guess I just want to make sure that the legacy I leave behind is something that people will actually treasure and honor the life I’ve lived. But just being a good kindhearted person doesn’t always cut it, sad to say. And I suppose I’ve been curious about others, and what you believe your legacy will be.
Have any of us really taken the time to think about our legacy? How many of us have hurt others, and haven’t taken the time as of yet to make amends? How many of us will go right out, immediately after reading these words, and hurt, disappoint or anger more people because we feel like it’s our right to do so? How many of us have taken a few moments out of our daily rituals to make life easier for another person, just for the mere enjoyment of doing it?
I was speaking with a couple of good friends the other day about this blog, about this person who passed away, about what we are supposed to do and the next step. One of them suggested a roast. I mean, that’s a great idea, because although this person wasn’t the most liked individual, there is a way to take the emotional toll this has taken on so many, and channel it in some way. And a roast, I’m sure most people would be able to speak their minds, let off some steam, and express – for better or for worse – what this person’s life and death means to them and others. We could donate the money to an LGBTQ organization that could put the funds to good use, and even perhaps use the funds to save someone’s livelihood.
This community has its members who are both good eggs and rotten tomatoes; in fact, some of us possess both traits. No one is all good. And no one is all bad. We take the good with the bad; that’s what makes us human.
I was watching an old episode of “Murphy Brown” the other day about one of Murphy’s rivals passing away, and she was forced to give the eulogy on someone who was disliked by 90 percent of the media industry. She tried to find the good in him, and when she found out the good in him was just misinformation and lies, she was still going to give a positive eulogy – unless the funeral attendees had something good to say about him themselves. No one had anything good to say, so Murphy gave a scorching, negative eulogy. Upon finishing, the priest read the deceased’s final letter, which said so many nice things about Murphy. With egg on her face, it was too late to say anything nice about him. I thought this was one of the funniest episodes ever written, because of the message it relayed. The message: That even though people can seem rotten to the core, there may be one tiny spec of good in there, too. Now I’m not saying that this stands true for everyone, but you never know.
I guess the final thought for me … my plan is to continue to leave a worthy legacy so I can rest easy.
What about you?

I'll just say 'Happy PRIDE everyone' and leave it at that for the time being

I think for everyone who knows me pretty well, that I’ve always been a junkie for any and all things LGBTQ, especially the annual PRIDE parades. In fact, a couple of friends close to me call me, “Everyone loves a parade.”
I’ll get to analyzing this year’s parade later in this blog post, but for right now, I just want to put it out there … this year’s festivities had some ups and downs. And these ups and downs were not some things that people may know, nor may not care either. That’s not my reasoning for blogging about this year’s festivities.
I must admit, I was not fully in the spirit of the joy of gay pride this year. And I take full responsibility for it, too. I kept up the smiles and big laughter, because hey, who wants to know how upset a person is truly feeling when we are all supposed to be celebrating to the full extent.
I did some fun things this year, as I’m never one to turn down a good time. And plus, it helps to get into the spirit. But for this year, it was just a bit tiresome, stressful and a bit depressing. I felt like how I feel about Christmas anymore … I don’t really celebrate it much anymore because the spirit of the season escapes me anymore.
And like I said, I blame myself for my lack of inner enthusiasm for this year’s PRIDE. For many reasons … emotional, financial, spiritual, passion … this past year since last PRIDE, I’ve felt very separated from people. The past 12 months have been very much like riding a rollercoaster with emotions. I was hoping that my feelings would have subsided before PRIDE, but sadly it hadn’t.
Perhaps that is the reason I posted on Facebook last week a little plea to myself. It was not meant to cause a holy war with certain people in the community because, I must state, it was my plea to myself (and whoever took any message from it) to be able to feel the love of PRIDE.
The post was quite simple:
“I just need to feel the love this weekend! So people, let's make sure each of us show each other love and more than just lip service this PRIDE weekend!”
The “lip service” of which I referred was to those individuals who run up to a person during PRIDE weekend and slop sugary sweetness all over you, and once Monday rolls around, they are acting like PRIDE never occurred. Now everyone knows someone like this in their lives, and it’s just about the concept of the action. And I truly did need to feel the love this past weekend, for personal reasons. My personal reasons, just mine.
It seemed that a firestorm erupted on my status; I didn’t even know it until one of my sistas mentioned it to me. I was off Facebook for a bit, and when I viewed all that followed my simple request of showing people the love to one another this PRIDE, it was obvious that the message of my status was lost. I just wanted people to, perhaps, go out of their way to show the love, because as history has shown us over the past few years, we can lose our loved ones, in and out of the community, in the blink of an eye.
So I just hope that the message wasn’t lost on too many people.
Another thing that bothered me as PRIDE approached was that so many younger members of the LGBTQ community had no freakin’ idea about what the elder members of this community have sacrificed to pave the way for all of the younger ones and make life easier for all of us. Now this is not directed to any one or two people in particular, it’s a general thing that I’ve witnessed over the years.
So many want to be named “This Title” or “That Title”, but really don’t know about what came before them. I was floored last year when I asked a few younger LGBTQ members of the significance of the Stonewall Riots and what the drag queens who’ve come before us have sacrificed in blood, sweat and tears … and they had no idea. I just want everyone to be up on their LGBTQ history in general and history – period, because as the theory goes, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
Young ones – there is a bevy of elder LGBTQ members who, if you seek them out, could give you a very entertaining lesson of our history. Ask them about Harvey Milk, Stonewall Riots, Bayard Rustin, Everett George Klippert … the list goes on and on. Now there are a great number of young LGBTQ community members who are well-versed on the history, and that makes me so very proud. But for the ones who don’t, let’s pick up the pace. Just a suggestion.
Something else that boggles my mind happened Sunday during the PRIDE parade. For some reason, and I haven’t been able to find out the answers yet, in the procession there was a 15-20 minute gap in the parade. It was evident that something happened, but at this point it’s not clear. I know there needs to be some form of control in the procession just so things don’t get out of control. But why is it that there was such a huge break in the procession that it made some people question if there were, in fact, a part one and part two to the parade. I’m sorry, and I’m not pointing fingers, but it made some look like they had no idea what they were doing.
Questions have been put out there:
Why is it such a hassle in just letting people progress out of the starting gate?
Why does the order of groups/organizations marching in the parade line need to be so stringent, almost seeming like when we were in grade school when one student didn’t want to sit next to another, so the teacher conceded and made sure they didn’t sit next to each other? Are there groups who don’t want to walk after/before others?
Will this sort of thing happen next year, and what needs to be done to make sure this doesn’t happen again?
Why didn’t anyone putting this all together have anyone stop the paradegoers at the beginning of the line from marching forward until everyone was caught up and we were all a unified marching parade?
These are just questions on people’s minds. Anyone with the answers, definitely let us know. Hey, I’m sure some don’t care too much. But for some reason, in this man’s eyes, it was a little depressing … and I didn’t need any more of that.
Okay, so I don’t sound like a wet blanket, we should all give a huge shout-out for the individuals who busted their asses to give everyone a happy PRIDE weekend. We all need to take a moment and actually thank so many people (too many to mention), but just a few in my mind at the moment: all the workers at Paradise, Hotel Tides Restaurant & Spa, Georgies, and so many other establishments in Asbury Park who made this year’s festivities a successful, fun, safe time for all of us. All the booths at the festival grounds, the fabulous performers at the festival, the organizers of every event this past weekend (including NJ Leather community, Jersey Pride, the Pride Center of NJ, PRIDE Network … the list goes on and on).
There were a number of enjoyable times this weekend, so don’t get me wrong. I was able to enjoy my PRIDE as I was able to see PRIDE for the first time through a couple of good friends' eyes as they were experiencing their first PRIDE; their enthusiasm and zest for the weekend's events brought some happiness in me.
And maybe I’m just a little over it right now because of how I’m feeling at this time. And plus, I felt like I was on roller skates all Sunday afternoon/evening while working the bar at the Tides, and perhaps I’m just still reeling from the crazies of the weekend, me being sober, working my ass off, and just not in the mood – the rude lesbian couple who were too drunk to know what they ordered and just got on my last nerves … or perhaps the straight female who yanked my arm at Paradise, ordering me to get her a drink when I don’t work there; I just had on all black from my Tides bar attire … or perhaps the person I was once involved with who just wouldn’t leave the bar and leave me and some others there alone, especially since I just don’t deal with any of the craziness any longer … or perhaps the fact that I’m just burned out and got tired of people spilling, knocking over other people’s drinks, or the few people who shoved their credit cards in my face when they wanted to pay (even though I was making drinks for people).
But I’m proud of myself, because in none of those instances, did Bernadine show herself.
And for that, people, happy PRIDE!

The new 'drunken-truth device' ~ coming to stores near you

Miss Manners dictates that if you are brave enough to drink like a fool and get drunk, you should be grown enough to face the consequences. This, my friends, is exactly why when I’ve gotten drunk, I’m never afraid to face my demons the next day.
And friends, if you are grown-ups you should never do anything while drunk that you can’t face the next day.
Now for me, I’ve always joked that I should have recording mics and cameras attached to me when I get drunk, for the simple fact that I’ve done a number of crazy things while intoxicated that I would be petrified to learn of the next day. But then again, I’m a seasoned drinker, as well as a bartender. So my ass has been on both sides of the counter.
Still, I’m classy enough to know that when I’m out drinking on the town, that if I ever find myself being a drunken mess, that I have a number of people in my corner to watch not only my back, but their backs as well.
In this world that we live in, and Asbury Park in particular, when we go out and drink ourselves under the table, we have many responsible workers in the establishments we frequent who are looking out for our own good. And speaking for myself, I rely on the managers, bartenders, security guards, servers, etc., in the bars I frequent to watch my back. I’m grown enough to realize that these individuals working there aren't cutting my drunken ass off because they have a problem with me – they want to protect me and themselves.
I would never assume that if my drunken ass were told I couldn’t have another drink, it’s them being mean, rude or inconsiderate. I’m smart enough to know, being a bartender myself, that they are doing it for my own good. Everyone in the service industry is in it to make money. So how absurd it is for some people to make the leap that they don’t want your money; they just want to make things difficult for you.
Now I’m not saying that it is inconceivable that in the rarest of circumstances that it would never happen. A person may have a personal grudge against a person for whatever reason. But when you run into a situation where you’ve had too much to drink, and the crew you are hanging with have also had too much to drink, and not one, but three or four workers in the establishment have taken note of your obvious drunkenness … well then it’s time to look yourself in the mirror immediately after, and ask yourself, “Dude, where’s my manners?”
When I’ve bartended, I’ve been in the unenviable position of having to cut people off, a couple of times bouncing them from the bar. Trust me, it’s no fun, and no one loves to do it. And when you know the “drunk one” well, it’s a tough situation. But it’s something that needs to be done when the situation presents itself, no matter how hurt your feelings become. It’s in these situations when the old adage is not true … and the customer is, in fact, not always right.
But I’ll tell you this – if that person I had to boot and not serve anymore alcohol were to go out of their way to try to embarrass me or my place of business through the use of social media, … well things would not turn out pretty. Once you put something out there on social media, it’s out there for good. And when you only have access to, maybe, 25 percent of the true story (researchers have analyzed these situations and have concluded in some studies that when you are drunk and in a heated situation, you aren’t in a mindset to remember much; only the part that makes yourself seem as if you are the victim), you are doing a disservice to those employees who are forced to deal with you.
This is one of the main reasons why I always believe that a great invention would be a “drunken-truth device”, something that once you reach the legal alcohol-level where you start to get hazy on things around you, that a microphone device would begin taping your every sound and move.
Because I’ll tell you, if we all had one of these instruments on ourselves when we went out on the town, lives would be much simpler.
So my moral of this blog post is quite simple to comprehend … if you go out on the town and become inebriated, don’t resort to name calling and giving an establishment an offensive, flaming review. Take a long, self-reflecting moment to clearly ask yourself, “Gee, what did I do to cause me to get flagged at the bar and why did things get so out-of-hand?” Also, it is a good idea to ask someone, anyone, who works in the establishment or who was also in attendance at the establishment what you did, and why all of it went down. You may just figure out that you were the one who was in the wrong, and people stopped serving you alcohol for YOUR OWN GOOD.
Because people, sometimes using social media while in a drunken haze over a heated situation can be just as dangerous as getting behind the wheel of your automobile while highly intoxicated. Sometimes it doesn’t end well.
After all, why do you always hear that drunken texting is not a good thing to do? Because nine times out of 10, it’s not.