Michael, where art thou now?

As I told you, I met Michael in Mom & Pops Cafe where I would frequently have lunch with Georgee. Shuttlecock was his family name, a black sheep  who only inherited a small business from his father.  Michael would swing through the trees with  ease and how did he make it look so easy, claiming he was in such pain from an auto accident he suffered.  Michael was one of the few, if the only one, who asked me about work, cleaning up and raking debris after he was done a job like I had when I was in high school. I'm not a very physical person, as I had only worked in nursing and  radio DJ.

After a brief few months back east, after moving out on Georgee, I returned to help Michael with his computer.  Things transpire so differently over the phone then in person. Michael had a girlfriend now and I was sleeping in his woodshed,  better then being outside in the cold. We would go out and work during the day and prepare things around his place. Michael lived on a plot of land he rented which  resembled an antarctic expedition complete with two airstream trailers in a clump of trees in the midst of the cornfields of Indiana.

I liked Michael, he was a handsome sort, with slightly longish dark hair the kind I like on a man, I could go for him right now.  He knew of my "crossdressing" as I think quite a few in town did  for Werner, Indiana is a very small town and things involving Officers Tallman, Newt, and Donal travel fast.  One morning we were fooling around on his computer and he asked me why I dressed in those  clothes,  being a man and things like this befuddled  folks, being in such a straight and narrow area.  I couldn't explain it to him satisfactorily,  for I didn't know myself.   Michael started  "coming on" to me, maybe more to see how far I would go, which wasn't very far being a good "christian"  and being a bit confused with these feelings  myself.

Michael was one  who believed in a "Hell fire and Brimstone"  preaching, maybe thinking this is what is needed to keep a person in line.  Michael wanted a lady to marry and have a good, "christian" family. He had a girlfriend, who I didn't  think  was such  a prize, but to each his own.  I went to a bible fellowship in the  city also, not far from his "hell fire" church.


I should explain that Michael and I had a falling out while working one day.  I was cleaning up after he had finished trimming a tree and apparently I wasn't fast enough for him.  He grab the rake, I should have let him, but I resisted and he started hitting me. This hurt me more then the physical blows and I stood there debating whether I should just walk off and leave him, it wasn't easy,  but I left crying all the way to where I could get a ride to get my car.







One sunday morning I was waiting, in my car in the parking lot of his church, I hadn't seen him in a few months and really wanted to,  having moved further north to Mancest,  until he came walking past my car.  He seemed genuinely happy to see me and that I would seek him out after what had happened. Today,  I would have done more then just the few words I spoke.  I wonder now how things could have been between us and how different it could have turned out.  How many times  as we seek to be like all the rest and never do  according to our real desires.

 Eventually, after I had left Indiana for back east, Michael would wind up in trouble, because of this girl who ran off with an man from Anders.  Michael shot the guy wounding him in the knee over a woman, spending time in the state pen, and eventually winding up dead in his trailer, from who knows what, suffocation or an overdose of pain killers or both.   I do miss Michael and wonder.

How are you gonna OUT yourself to an 87 yr. old mother at 62....

I have read my mother, she thinks that I don't know her, but,  I know her, remember I am the sissy in the family and what do sissies do? They LISTEN, and they listen to the ladies, and they learn things from the ladies.

 Some of us are so fascinated by the  ladies and especially their clothing. How soft, black wool skirt, taffetta lining, and when left alone, a beeline is made for that skirt, dig? Oh, to feel that skirt so soft on your body is  absolute ecstasy, like your in heaven, and nothing can replace that, not even the wrath of god can make me stop. I also feel that I can be a "friend" to the ladies in a way that their husbands or boyfriends know not of, and in this way I am not a threat to their husband, for I am LIKE one of the "girls."  I know, I am always stuck chatting with the ladies, I feel shunned by the men at times, even if trying to be interested in their sports. What if I spent that time upstairs dressing and THEN came down and seduced them?

 So, would I be considered a "bottom" or a "top" I don't seem to feel one way or another, sometimes a "top" and other times a "bottom"

So, it is like, do we know ourselves, right......  Do we doubt ourselves, another YES........ should we, NO, a thousand times NO!!!

It's interesting to me that at 62 years old, that I am the daughter in the family. The daughter they didn't know they even had, and if brought up this way, mother will deny it, for she was sure she had a male baby. They do not know how right I am, ha, ha.  Mother has her wits, because she had to deal with witless Father, all her life.
She is the only one that I could even attempt to come OUT to, My Father would never understand, or know what it is, he would laugh ha ha ha ha. So, no worries there, the devil in me as thought of showing up  stairs one evening dressed as a female nurse,  what would he say? he'd "think" there was another woman in the house. I just don't want to scare them, chicken me, what harm would it do, bring some cheer into the house?


Today, this would not be a real problem, or maybe it would, We, know so much or "think" we know. The 50's were a time that we didn't talk about these things even in school, we went there ignorant, came out ignorant. The little "leave it to beaver" generation, middle class suburban, on the poor side of town, north central Connecticut.

 If we "accidentally" touch a boy, it was. " hey! what are you, a MOE?'  What the F**** is a MOE? they never told me, but I continued to wonder. or, the big one, " Did your father ever F**** your mother?" An easy one you say?  If you know what F**** means, but not ME at that age. No I never even knew there was such a concept. We hadn't got to that page in that catholic book, "How to explain SEX to your boys"

This is a little bit of the atmosphere I grew up in, get the picture? 

Still Shell-shocked from Fundamentalism,( in my case Christianity)

I didn't consider myself a newbie from Christianity, I had been in it for quite some time. I endeavored to "Renew my Mind" according to Romans 12. like put on New Mind according to God's Word, because you are a New creation in Christ, old things have past away, all things have become NEW.  What psychological term can be used here? sounds like 'I see" nothing, I know nothing, I am clean. I also Spoke in tongues ,  but the tongue was strangely familiar to what my brother and I used to do, or at least I did, while swinging on our swingset. I was intrigued with the day of pentecost where the 12 apostles heard a rushing mighty wind, I've heard it said this was a heavy breathing, 12 guys, heavy breathing, imagine in the Mormon tabernacle, gay men?  could that sound like a rushing mighty wind?  you decide.....

I know that I am NOT possessed to do this, I am fully under my control at all times, some said that they were drunk, no these people were not drunk. For I  have been a  very few times very drunk, and you can be out of control. So with this speaking in tongues, I know when I am going to speak in a tongues as the spirit gives the utterance, I by my will, will to do so.I am not possessed to do this by another power. An I have thought long, the spirit gives the utterance? which spirit could this be? An evil one will TAKE your freedom of will away, out of control.  YOU have to be "in control"  This is the only  thing about Christianity that still sticks and  makes me think, what is this?  I had heard at that time was that water is thicker then blood, like spirit is to flesh. flesh being blood. As hard as I tried to be in unity and fellowship with my "christian" brothers and sisters, I found and I sensed a wedge between us. Did I do something wrong, you didn't like? I search within myself incessantly for the answer to this and could find little that would warrant this division, I never really truely felt free and at ease when with other "believers" and to this day I cannot make contact with them. This is funny, for spirit is thicker then blood would they forgive?  for doing nothing wrong, maybe I believe different, is this a crime, I have done no one harm, that I am aware. I feel like John Candy in the movie, "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles" I tend to find someone I really like and I smother the poor bastard, this is what Candy said, I smother the poor bastard.  What am I speaking another language, one many cannot hear? many do not live their creed.  Being around the the LGBT community, I find it different. Especially at first in Indiana, where I felt safer being outside the gay bar  with black men coming to the car showing me their "thing" while I was there dressed in "drag" Safer from all the world, a paradox?  the only thing was with ME, I was AFRAID to go inside. What a community for the most part. That I could feel safer within the LGBT commununity then I ever did in fundamentalist christianity and church. Of course there is always a time in any relationship to learn a mutual trust, But in the Latter it never truly came.  Sorry, to say, how could it come? You see in christianity, you do not speak of the things of the past, your present is Christ and only Christ and you continually put on what you know is Christ from the Bible. Squelching out your past or just YOU specifically, really only repressing  YOU and your urges, so when you quit repression the urges come back, why don't you say to yourself, "Self, you can do anything you want, but all is not what you want to do and  that that you don't want to do  is what breaks the Golden Rule, so you have to choose those things which are according to the Golden Rule, [Do to others as you would want them to do to you]. You don't want theft then you don't steal.  Think about it....And that is it, Love others as you would want them to love YOU.. It takes the weight off of YOU doing the
DOING. of it causing repression of your urges.  If one is going to come OUT, come OUT of course only when YOU are ready, and some are long overdue.....

Saturday afternoon chat with Officers Donal & TallMan...

I was remembering , the other day when I was sitting in Officer Donals office being interrogated, by Officer Donal himself, a smug man, and pudgy,of self importance of slightly english breeding, I say slightly because he was a cop. Why did he pick the land of Indianas to practice in a small town. He was suspicious of me from the time I set foot in his town. HIS town, his town should have been called "Donal" rather then my first name, which is Werner. How dare they name His town after me, a stranger.. Then Georgee the elderly lady I was staying with, had, had " people of color" in her house. oooh!!!and now she's having a transvestite?.  So, that automatically pins me as some one to watch, and  we're both from the east, having at some point in our lives lived in the land of Connect-i-cut, and I being born  in the northern part. I might mention that having been in radio  in those parts of Indiana, a listener said once all his life he wanted to see someone from Connect-i-cut.  This Officer Donal may have had the same fixation. This really leads to some interesting conclusions and assumptions.

I  continued living that short time, making acquaintences  of some of the blacker sheeps in the town, one in particular was man called Shuttlecock, his profession was leading cops on wild goose chases through town, while swinging in trees, a tree man by trade.   He was the only one concerned enough to ask me about work,and offering me some. Then there was  "Quiet man", Doyle, who sat  by himself while eating at Mom & Pops cafe, who claimed to be able to fix a certain types of rare automobiles no longer in production, his yard was strewn all over with them. Need I say more, but I must mention  Pepi the Mexican  fellow with his son, Tuny, pronounced like Turny, saying, " stop it Tuny, No Tuny"  who fixed and repaired shipping pallets,and who introduced me to "Quiet man" Doyle, after I hit a coyote at night while driving through cornfields. They never devulged to me any knowledge of my secret pastimes. There was talking and questioning of key people, like Georgee I lived with  and her two derelict roomers, one which was named Danny B, who told me flat out, that the only reason I did this was to attract men, he said he saw this behavior while in the Air Force. I knew Officer Donal and his cohorts had been around, snooping, for Georgee mentioned vaque things about, "why I'd never think that men would dress in women's clothes, why I'll never understand"  like this befuddled her, and Danny B, came running downstairs one night when I returned, to see what I looked like. Seeing nothing peculiar, he preceded back upstairs, I'm sure disappointed. What did he think? that I would return dressed fully in drag in this small Indiana town? duh? After all, Donal had specifically told me to keep this behavior behind closed doors. I hope no one peeked in the front windows late at night as I tiptoes down the stairs in full regalia, white skirt, pink sweater and white graduation heels, woe. Georgee's apartment was a converted storefront, fancy place, high ceilings and more like a lawyers office then an apartment, this is why during the day people would open the door if unlocked and ask where such and such a business was, not where hoosiers would think to have an apartment. Nonetheless, you can see that in these parts, my behavior and Georgees would draw whimsical looks.  

Oh, and the library where the internet was wont to be used, the early days when it was all new and people were scared, and what did the librarian know of such goings on, she must have known something, she seemed cool though, I'm sure Officer Donal and possibly TallMan and wise-ass Newt were in and out questioning her of my character, or what they thought I was surfing for, more information about my secret pastime, what else?

One saturday I returned to town and Officer Donal, saunters up to my car an asks if I have a few minutes, for Officer TallMan wants to question me and he will be right there. I didn't fully realize at the time how much information he was gathering on his investigation, probably nothing, or that he was investigating, even. I waited for TallMan as he came to town in his squad car and we sat in Officer Donal's little office, he rehashed how much I scared Yard Sale Lady and that they would be watching me, closely,. and they would see what "the prosecuter" would have to say. Oh, no not the "prosecutor," why such interest, was Officer TallMan interested in getting together with me for a little tryst? I had my suspicions though  I didn't even know he was a detective at the time, nor of any investigation. They left it at that, they would be watching me, a little unnerving, but nothing ever happened, I am a good boy, as I said. All this investigation going on as I mentioned about the questioning of  this weird fellow an his wife up in Anders, where I would visit a "crippled" lady and walk outside at night, in drag. Weird fellow saw me for I could see his pin head in the window, the only other one awake at night, besides me. I told Officer TallMan about said fellow who had a car exactly like mine, with license numbers so similar, and I found that the owner was working a job in Anders and drove by Yard Sale Lady's house on the main road every day during that time, such a coincidence it sounds eerie, doesn't it? This is small town Indiana life, they know your there even though you don't know they know, and no one will ever tell you either. Small unassuming states called the" "Cross"roads of America" may be interpreted  in two ways, while driving through from east to west never stopping or, if you decide to stay, they can be CROSS with you until they get to trust you, which may never come, or may come  only with a few people nice people, it's a nice place but toe the mark and don't veer off the straight and narrow...It's the CROSS of Christ you see, and don't you forget it!!...(more exciting tales to come)    
 

Why not crossdress ?

I'm thinking about how, when I first got back, I would go to a support group in New Haven and then afterwards I usually tried to go out to a gay bar. Which is always fun, better then any other bar in the world., the non-judgemental atmosphere, is truly refreshing, and I'll bet especially after 20+ years in a christian fundamentalist group, because I was there or on the periphery of it. It's a f***ing addiction, like anything else, and withdrawals like, what the f*** am I going to do now, not that I am weaning myself of this addiction, but cold turkey, about 11 years now,and quiting it along with cigarrettes, too, and it seems as though no one else knows what your going through, Of course not all of it is, there are things that can be beneficial. So, separating the bad from the not so bad, to the outright bad. Why do knowing  christians shun you, if you choose to believe different? I thought I was told that spirit was thicker then blood, and a friend is one who sticks closer then a brother.Is it that the christian is tought to believe the certainty of the uncertain, which is faith,not even that there is a historical basis for their belief. We may have been taught the christian walk is like walking on water, who can walk on water? literally.No one!!! not even Jesus. So quite possibly this can be called a figure of speech, for it speaks of something which is impossible, literally, to be carry out. Could it be actually talking about what life is like, you are only allowed to live in the present, alhtough the past may tend to encroach on your present from time to time, especially if at 62 years old you find yourself living with and shopping for your parents, driving your parents from appointment to  appointment when necessary. Living in the same house you grew up in and escaped from at 18, to go in the service. Now you are back, for 11 years now,  and some may say returned to the prision that we thought we had escaped from. How do we maintain our life, apart from our parents, so that we can maintain our sense of self intact. We have two generations here, one from the 1920-40's and the other one from the 50's - 70's . See, this is the general spread on how we learn to think. I'm taught by this generation their values, or not taught. So I grow up, I leave and my greatest influence after the initial shock of the formative 1950's is the 1970's, I believe this was a great decade. the rock music, even the drugs, of course not if you choose heroin or something like ,  that sucks, but, I say the Pot was good. So, then I say the 80's come and with it Ronald Reagan, psst, I thought we got rid of him in California, and along come a sweeping sucking into the Bible maybe, it seemed to be everywhere, and some may luckily have eluded it. and now after spending 20 years trying to make heads or tails out of the Bible, you find yourself sunk. Aaaaah !!! what now? Have you ever heard of the lecture series the "Massey Triad" ? This generations quandary is explained very well out of the "Massey Triiad" Massey  does teach how to recognize it, and how it comes about. People of the 20's-40's raise kids in the 50's " the' leave to beaver" generation, that then will raise kids in maybe the 70's or 80's and so forth. Now our beavers were taught by people who lived through the great depression, and WW2, when after they returned from WW2 then returned to jobs, it maybe a factory manufacturing job or something higher, it was a job, none the less, so then many of us who's father worked in a factory, were urged to get an education, at least high school, or go in the service, so we could get a "white collar' job, what ever that could be, otherwise we were told to get  the "pick and shovel" out .Just a little synopsis of how this thing may have come about. So now I am home back living with those folks who raised me according to the WW2 generation standards within the framework like " leave it to beaver" but, I didn't stay with the "leave it to beavers" I went out and learned more on my own and endeavored to live it, and now I am back and sometimes it seems the Past and Present are very closely alligned...How to have a life of your own  without having the past thoughts keep coming up on you and engulfing you, coming up next in our exciting series.....