My Fight with XM 22

Incident date/time: October 14th @ 7pm

Dear GLAAD:

I was recently listening to XM 22, a radio station heard nationwide, as two female DJs spoke out against the most recent episode of GLEE, which featured two "straight" girls intimately close in the beginning of the episode. One DJ had not seen the episode, and the other had. They had an issue with the experimentation that could possibly influence their children to "experiment" with the same sex. They said it was unnatural, and that they would not allow their kids to continue to watch the popular, prime-time show. They wanted callers to voice their opinions, and I called immediately.

The first caller was a lesbian who said that she couldn't understand why they were upset. The DJs then changed their argument to say that they didn't agree that lesbians were being exploited. The woman-caller said she is a lesbian, and that she did not feel as though the show was exploiting lesbians.

The call ended calmly, and they then put me on the air. I told them that with the recent suicides, they are sending the wrong message to kids who may be gay and to those who are being bullied. Again, they said they didn't want to see lesbians being exploited. I told them that the show does not exploit gays and lesbians, but that their comments that the show went too far by showing two girls in an intimate setting is confusing to kids who are questioning their sexuality. By saying two same-sex kids experimenting is unnatural is conveying the message that being gay is unnatural. I told them that being gay is a natural AND good thing, and that kids who are confused should be okay with either outcome. They again said that they don't want their kids to see two straight people experimenting with being gay. I said, kids WILL experiment, whether it is with someone of the same sex or the opposite sex. One DJ said, "I never experimented!" I said, "Yes, you did! With a man! That was how you knew you're heterosexual!"

At that point, a producer came on the air to defend the two DJs by saying, "This is a matter of what is appropriate and inappropriate for a 'family show.'" I said, "the show comes on at 8pm; it is considered a prime-time slot. Also, Glee is not going to influence any student to experiment in either way. Kids will do what they do anyway. They are not easily swayed by television."

They cut me off, and went to commercial. Afterwards, I thought to myself, "three against one; wasn't THAT just a form of bullying??"

--

Kevin L. Malin

Atlanta, GA

My Life Now

It is now the middle of October, and much has happened in the past few months. I secured my position within the Tyler Perry empire in the second half of August, worked my ass off in September, and Atlanta Gay Pride was this past weekend.

I left off complaining about my previous living situation where two of my three roommates were gossiping about me. I won't rehash; you'll have to read the previous posts. However, I will mention that I recently found out that the owner of the house would periodically ask my good friends, who would visit me at home, if they were sleeping with me. Disgusting!!

Moving on: many of my friends and acquaintances want to know exactly how I got a job with Tyler Perry. The sensitivity surrounding this accomplishment doesn't allow me to divulge much, however, I will tell you what I can.

In mid-August, I quit my previous job as employment consultant in downtown ATL. I was unhappy, uncomfortable, and too inexperienced to continue to find work for welfare moms. It was actually a worthwhile learning experience, and it taught me how to be more aggressive when looking for work for myself. Before I quit, I started sending out my resume to employers, but I remained unemployed for about three weeks. In the meantime, I brokered a couple of successful real estate deals which kept me afloat financially. At the same time, my brother, Bill, moved to Atlanta, and we found an apartment which we moved into over Labor Day Weekend. Toward the end of my unemployment, I started to get desperate. It's a tough job market out there, and I was starting to panic. I found job postings on many of the websites I used at my previous job, but I also looked at Craigslist daily. I noticed a cryptic posting for an office assistant, but there was no company info. I sent my cover letter/resume, and an hour later (at 9pm), I received a phone call from Tyler Perry Studios. I was a little shocked, and when they asked me to come to the studios the next day, I wanted to say, "SERIOUSLY????" The interview was quick; I got the impression they wanted to hire me on the spot. But my future boss said, "go get lunch; I'm going to mull this over. Call me in an hour, but stay in the area."

As I walked into the Greenbriar IHOP, an excited and optimistic energy left my body and touched the people I came in contact with. I couldn't stop smiling. After a brief phone call to my now-boss, I returned to the studios. This meeting was also brief, and I returned home beaming. I told Bill that if my phone rang, all noise within the vicinity must cease. At 8pm, I received the call . . . and I got the job! They liked my education, my modelling and real estate experience, and they felt that I could represent Mr. Perry best out of all the candidates who interviewed.

That was a Friday night, so naturally, I went out all weekend and celebrated with my close friends. That Monday, the long hours, the stress, and the excitement began. The first week was full of lots of travelling around Atlanta and meeting the many people who make his movies and TV shows possible. I visited his homes, the airport he uses, and the places I needed to be acquainted with as part of my new job. In a nutshell, I represent Mr. Perry in day-to-day situations that he is too busy to handle. The exciting part is that wherever I go while working, I'm treated like a rock-star, and by-standers constantly try to figure out who I am. Don't worry; none of this has gone to my head. In fact, I treat people with more respect now. I'm constantly reminded that I am only representing a celebrity, that I am not one myself. Instead, it's a humbling experience, and I'm amazed that these experiences enter my life to teach me a lesson. Everything happens for a reason, and I'm delighted that this is my life now.

Shortly after I started, I cancelled my trip to Southern Decadence, New Orleans for Labor Day Weekend so that I could move in with Bill. We moved to a cheap, slightly cramped 2/2 apartment by Peachtree-DeKalb Airport for the purpose of saving money to get a new car next year. (I also desperately needed to remove myself from the drama of my previous home.) At some point during our new lease, Bill's wife, Margot, and their 2 yr. old, Nicole, will join us in Atlanta. They are temporarily living with my Dad in New York until they move. I'm so excited to be living with family for the first time in 16 years! Especially since I've been single for most of my five years in Atlanta.

But I'm not bitter! I received tons of appreciated attention when I attended the 2010 Atlanta Cotillion on September 18th as Julio Leyva's escort. Yes, I went in a tux, for a change. I was so proud of Julio for the great job he did fundraising all summer. He is a hero in my eyes!

But the fun didn't stop there! Last weekend was Atlanta's Gay Pride festival and parade, and two of my dear friends from Boston spent the weekend here. We had so much fun running around, seeing so many people I hadn't seen since starting my new job, and going to the packed events, that we didn't get to everything. I was supposed to march in the parade with the Cotillion clan, but at the last minute, I had to drive a friend to the airport, and then go to work for a couple of hours. I just keep telling myself that I LOVE MY JOB!

Drinks at Work??

I thought I had landed the perfect job when I started as an account executive with a company in downtown Atlanta at the end of May. My task was to find work for uneducated, inexperienced, single mothers who accepted government assistance. They were required to participate in our program, and Fulton and Dekalb Counties commissioned us to find them minimum wage positions so that they could more quickly move from accepting welfare to being self-sufficient. As I accepted the position that many vied for, I thought to myself,

"My writing is good, and I know how to assemble a resume. My phone etiquette is good, so I can be persuasive when speaking with employers. If a client gives me attitude when I instruct them on how to job search, I can give it right back."

I was convinced that if anyone could do this, I could. This confidence was exactly what I needed to start. My boss liked me, my co-workers liked me, and everyone thought I was going to do quite well. I enjoyed going to work, and the clients were genuinely appreciative when I gave them advice and job leads. The employers were a bit cold to me at first, but I worked on building rapport. I was on the phone looking for jobs, and I was building confidence in my clients. I went to networking events and looked for jobs. I sent my clients out every day to look for jobs with employers I had gotten to know. But there were several things that I neglected to consider.

One was the same thing I didn't think of when I decided to do the Atlanta Cotillion last year. How many contacts can I really call upon after only four short years of living in Atlanta? Could I seriously call upon my friends and ask them if they know of anyone hiring, when half of Atlanta was looking for a job? I persevered, and I succeeded in finding many low wage jobs at restaurants, hotels, in offices, etc. The second thing I didn't think about was, just because I found a job for someone doesn't mean they're going to get hired. Huge gaps in employment, no experience at all, or a serious criminal record hindered my clients, and I began to get discouraged. My persuasive selling techniques were failing, and I was falling short of my quota.

Then something unexpected happened. An account executive who was out on medical leave for many months returned to the company after having beaten cancer. He was an incredibly personable guy, and he was originally from Boston. He had the accent that I thought I hated, but when he spoke, leaving out his r's, I melted a bit. I fell for his charm, and soon we were drinking together.

As I became more and more discouraged with my lack of progress, I began to also experience the insomnia that had developed in my final years of drinking. He encouraged me to drink before bedtime, but I said I couldn't do that. That I didn't want to go down that road. I didn't feel it was appropriate to reveal my alcoholic status to my co-workers, especially since I was beginning to feel as though I wasn't cut out for the job.

I started to call in sick on Monday's after Sunday Funday at Blake's. I felt like a failure. I'd go into work as though I had my head down. I was ashamed.

I looked for a new job, but without finding one, I quit in mid-August. A weight lifted from my shoulders. I was fairly confident that I could find one that was not in employment. I hoped for a real estate job again.

Around the same time, I convinced my brother, Billy, in Connecticut, to move to Atlanta. I knew his IT skills were superior to most in Atlanta. He came down and stayed in my extra room for a couple of weeks. It was so nice to be around family again. I communicated with my roommates about his stay in advance and gave them updates as we spent time together touring his new city.

Unfortunately, a couple of my roommates were more interested, not in my brother's stay, but in a nasty, untrue rumor that, not only was I drinking again, but I was also doing drugs. Drugs were never my thing. My drug of choice, and my downfall, had always been alcohol. I am an alcoholic of an extreme case, however, I am NOT a drug addict. Many times, I had heard in the program that they are one and the same. This is not the case. Alcohol works on the alcoholic over time, convincing him that he can handle more. Drugs take the addict down FAST. But I want to make it very clear that I am not saying one is worse than the other. We are all equal; addicts, alcoholics, and our friends, the normal people. If my life went in a different direction, I could have been a drug addict AND an alcoholic.

The Big Book is the end-all for many. It certainly was my "bible" for over a year. I read it, and re-read it, from cover to cover. But for me, it was my launch-pad. I really knew nothing about true spirituality, so I started reading the books of Ekhart Tolle, my present spiritual guidance. I also ventured into Buddhism and Scientology. In college, I studied medieval philosophy, which is essentially Catholicism, and I had had enough of that. I heard many times in AA meetings, "AA doesn't have the patent on spirituality." But then, why do so many stay within the safe confines of the program? Is thinking too dangerous for us?

Anyway, back to the story. I began to get frantic phone calls from genuinely concerned friends. I say it that way because there is a difference between concern and gossip. I could hear in each of their voices, whether they were wondering if they needed to talk to me, or if they selfishly wanted to verify the dirt they discovered. I parted ways with my roommate, who I used to trust and consider a friend, after I found out that an ex of his entered the house while I was out of town with a key he still had, entered my bedroom, and spread crystal meth across my coffee table. I didn't know what it was and thought nothing of it. I cleaned it up and threw it out, but I still wondered what that stuff was. I didn't bring drama to our house, but my roommate and his trashy boyfriends certainly did.

I end this post on a bitter note, but with a promise to my audience that the good news comes shortly thereafter. If I've kept you interested to this point, please hold on until the next chapter. Just as my last post, I had to get this off my chest.

Pensacola . . . the Untold Story

This summer has been tough, to say the least. And when I say things never turn out the way they're expected to, the passed few months have been no exception. Despite the difficult times in my life which have definitely made me stronger, this summer will be one to remember; one that tested my strength, and one that will never let me forget that I'm only human.

As I wrote in an earlier post, Memorial Day was a hoot. However, probably the most significant event throughout the entire weekend was my relapse, which, of course, I intentionally left out. I was scared, ashamed, but defiant. It happened the night before Memorial Day. I had been in Pensacola for four days at this point, and the next day, we were going to drive home. I was in my car driving through a rainstorm alone, trying to find a place to eat. I was staying with a bunch of friends, some in the program, and some not.

I had been sober for three and a half years.

I drove around for over an hour, not because I couldn't find a place to eat, but because I was trying to talk myself into having a drink. I had earned it, I thought. Not only had I turned my life around, but I had also matured to the 34 year old who had just landed a new job in only seven days. I had been working out for two years, and I had become the person I always wanted to be. I was loved and admired by so many, and I had succeeded in seeing a monumental project through from start to finish: the Atlanta Cotillion. I had money of my own, I was travelling, and I had friends and family I loved.

I realized as I drove that it was midnight, and the partying would only last for a few more hours. I grabbed fast food, and headed to Emerald City alone. All weekend, I was surrounded by beautiful, scantily clad boys. Although I knew many of those from Atlanta, and I was making new friends, I felt totally alone. I arrived at the club, quickly said "Hi" to some people I knew, but I was acting as though I was looking for someone. I was looking for a bar that had no Atlantans around it, so that I could order a drink. The decision was made long before, and my mind was made up. As I ordered my drink, I could barely believe I heard those words leave my mouth. It was done; I took my first sip as if I were drinking some sort of poison. I was scared because I had no idea how it would affect me. Would I be drunk off the first drink? I was slightly panicked. The first one was weak, but my alcoholism kicked in. I needed to find a male bartender in another secluded bar to make me a good drink. I got what I wanted, and then went and danced with my friends. The club was packed, so I spent the rest of the night socializing. After hanging out for a while, I went back to the hotel and went to bed.

I need to get this off my chest, partly because the drinking didn't end here, and I now realize the entire summer may take several posts. Also, a few months after drinking openly and honestly, the rumors began that I was also doing drugs, a myth that hurt my feelings, and I developed a resentment toward the gay recovery community. I consider myself an open book; someone who lives a somewhat private life, but also someone who is honest. As I continued to drink, so did the gossip. And ultimately, I realized, I was headed right back to where I started on 12/04/06, my (former) sobriety date.

"Never regret. If it's good, it's wonderful. If it's bad, it's experience." - Victoria Holt

AC 2010

My Dear Friends,

We are now only 9 Days away from the 2010 Atlanta Cotillion, and I am reaching out to you for a final appeal for donations to help this incredibly worthy cause. The money collected by the debutantes goes directly to AID Atlanta, an organization that helps our own community, by providing life-saving medication for those living with HIV.

My great friend, Julio Leyva, has gone above and beyond this summer by hosting SIX fundraisers, all very successful! Not only has he surpassed my 2009 total, but he has also tapped into the community with his gentle, friendly demeanor. He has reached out to people within the gay community who have never heard of the Cotillion, and all the good it does. His efforts to educate people throughout our diverse city have been nothing short of fearless. I am honored to be escorting him to the Atlanta Cotillion this year.

Despite his successes, he still needs help in these final few days, so please don't wait! Contribute TODAY!!

Please help in one of two ways:

• Visit Julio's Cotillion page and make a donation of ANY amount. All donations are appreciated, especially in these difficult financial times;
• Come with us to the Ball itself on September 18th! I promise you will have the time of your life! Seats at the Ball are $150/person, unless you attend in an evening gown; the price then drops to $75/person.

Follow this link to make a donation or to purchase seats (don't forget to choose Julio as your deb):

http://www.atlantacotillion.com/Page.aspx?pid=402&frsid=17399

Please feel free to contact me should you have any trouble with the Cotillion website, or if you have any questions about Cotillion.

From the bottom of my heart, Thank you!!

--
Kevin L. Malin

Cotillion Class of '09
www.KevinMalin.net

(404) 245-1324 cell
(404) 601-7833 fax

Tempting Debauchery in Pensacola . . . but I've Gotta Be Good!!

Everything seemed to be happening all at once! I started my new job last Tuesday, and by Thursday morning, I was heading to Pensacola with a bunch of friends! I knew that it was going to be a weekend of underwear parties, drunkenness, sand, and sex. But I was exhausted from getting up at 6:45 am for my new career as an employment consultant in downtown Atlanta. So, I loaded up on coffee at Waffle House by the time zone boundary in Alabama, as we headed toward our beach destination.

I was so excited! The only time I had ever been to Pensacola during Memorial Weekend was just after a terrible hurricane hit the region a few years ago. I was with Jeremy, and we were pretty much alone on the beach that weekend. So, this would be my first time experiencing the throngs of gay men on the beach in their tiny speedos, showing each other their d!@ks for shots. As if that weren't enough, my friends and I were staying at the Portofino Island Resort, a.k.a. Gay Ground Zero. I think I was receiving underwear party invites on Facebook before the weekend even began, and of course, my friends expected me to act as Cruise Director. Good thing I brought my laptop. My flimsy LG Xenon wouldn't have handled the data usage this weekend would require.

We got to the hotel, and I must say, it was spectacular. Our 2 bed/2.5 bath condo on the twelfth floor of one of five towers was beautifully furnished, and surprisingly large enough for six. We dropped our things and went to Crabs for dinner, and just watched as the gaggles of gayness came filing in after a long drive from all parts of the South. It really was a total gay-takeover of a small beach community. The restaurants were flying our flag, and the hotels and guest houses were 90% pink.

And the next day at the beach . . . OMG!! I've never seen so much scantily-clad eye candy. Yikes! I thought I might "behave" myself this weekend because of my new job, which is going really well, by the way. I didn't want to go back to work more exhausted than when I left. I was not only going to have a fabulous weekend, but I was also going to get some much needed rest! So, I slept in most days. I didn't feel bad about it. I'd get up around 11:30 am and hit the gym, and then drive to the beach (when the early folks are just beginning to leave), and snag a rock-star parking spot. The boys DID look yummy in their gay Aussie-bums. It was fun walking along the beach saying Hi to the ATL boys, and getting checked-out by the boys from Dallas or New Orleans. Never was I more grateful for my last two-years of regular fitness.

So, both nights, Thursday & Friday, we planned on starting at underwear parties, and then going to other parties at the Portofino. And BOTH NIGHTS, the underwear parties were broken up by security and police. Noise complaints were coming from breeders in the hotel. We went to parties both night, but because we missed out on the underwear fun, we decided to go to Saturday night's underwear party when it began. So, of course, we were the first dweebs there! But no matter; the penthouse filled quickly with a party of half-naked twinkies. I mostly "hung-out" with a few of my Atlanta boys, but I also met several new faces.

Security swiftly broke up that party as well, and many of us were getting a little annoyed that a resort facing the probability of a well-oiled beach in its near future would treat the gays with hostility. As the weekend progressed, the boys continued to party hard, and the police presence grew. Cop cars positioned themselves throughout the resort's drive-ways, as if the terror level had been raised to fuchsia, and we were on the brink of an all-out, thousand-man orgy.

Speaking of which, with all of that latent sexual energy lighting up the night sky in the form of a distant storm, I, Kevin Logan Malin, did NOT get laid all weekend! And it wasn't for not trying. I'm sure there will soon be photos on Facebook of me in this tiny, revealing yellow number I borrowed from a friend. Why do I gravitate to YELLOW?

On Sunday night, I escaped the beach for downtown Pensacola to visit Emerald City, the local gay club. I got there just after midnight, so the place was hoppin' when I walked in. They played some good music, had a drag show, and a dance contest. It ended up being a great way to finish up the weekend.

The next day, after only four hours of sleep, we piled back into the Rodeo and headed for home. It was an awesome experience, to say the least, and I'm already looking forward to next year!!

I'm Thrown a Curve-ball . . .

So, I'm going to talk about work for a minute . . . try not to get bored.

Last Monday, my boss told me the very unfortunate news that the on-site agents will experience a base salary pay-cut of a substantial amount. No, I didn't fall to pieces, but I did get scared considering I haven't sold a home recently. The market has shown some growth, but with this news, things were about to get ugly.

I knew what I had to do, but the thought of looking for a new job in this economy was not only daunting, but finding new employment seemed like it would be next-to-impossible. When I thought of the many friends who have been looking for work for the passed several months, I wondered what more I could do to stand out and get noticed.

That night, I started editing my resume, which I hadn't touched in a year. In the passed few years, thanks to quitting drinking, I've become more confident and less afraid to assert my qualifications and interests. It's really the only way to get ahead. Confidence and self-esteem are so important, and although I still have lots of work to do in that department, I thought I composed a fairly good resume and cover letter. On a side-note, if you're applying for jobs at the moment, get someone to convert your resume from a Word document to a PDF file because you never know how a Word doc is going to open on someone else's computer. A good friend gave me that advice.

I started letting close friends know that I was seriously looking for a new job. I gave them a general job description, and mentioned that if they hear of anything to please let me know. Within about a week, I probably applied for about 75 online job postings. I tried to take the time to personalize each one. I spent my nights at home in front of the TV while sending out resumes. In fact, I'm itching to go out and have some fun!

Anyway, I started to receive several phone calls, and many emails. I've noticed that there are lots of job scams out there online. I feel that if an employer can't pick up the phone and call me, there has got to be something shady going on. And I think it's awful that there are people out there praying on the many unemployed, honest people out there.

I received a call on Friday about an account executive position. I called back, and this polite, eloquent gentleman in New York answered and described his company and the position. The new account manager would be responsible for matching job-seekers with their clients, large companies and the government. They were looking for someone with a sales background who tends to also be socially-conscious. The job-seekers are people who may have less-than desirable histories or backgrounds. I know this may sound crazy, but this may be the challenge I've been hoping for! I was phone-interviewed twice yesterday (Monday), and then I met with a New York executive, along with the Atlanta manager this morning. Once my references checked out this afternoon, I was offered the position! It all happened soooooooooo fast!!!

So, here I am, sitting at home, ready to watch American Idol and stuff my face with something fattening. But the out-of-control celebrating won't end there . . . my friends and I are planning to meet at Swinging Richard's tonight for some good, old-fashioned lap-dances. One of the most exciting things about all this is that I will now have weekends off!! Wow! This is kind of how I envisioned things: a good, steady 9-to-5, and the occasional real estate deal on the weekends. The End.

Easter . . . Postponed

This passed weekend was filled with fun, gay things to do in Atlanta: Frank Buda's annual Easter Bonnet Party was attended by many Cotillion friends, and the Armorettes held their annual Easter Drag Races in the Blake's parking lot. I saw some photos taken by Project Q, and it looked like plenty of shirtless boys were out and about enjoying the suddenly summer-like weather we were experiencing after a rough and long winter.

I was stuck at the airport for much of the weekend trying to catch a flight to Westchester, NY, to visit my family for Easter. I missed out on the fun a few miles away in Midtown.

A few months ago, I noticed that the airfare to New York was climbing, and during holiday weekends, the prices usually spike. So, I called on a friend at Air Tran who I competed against in last year's Atlanta Cotillion, and got hold of a buddy-pass. I guess I didn't think Easter weekend would be as busy as it was, so unfortunately for me, flights up and down the East Coast were booked solid. Instead of partying with friends on my first Sunday off this year, I was stuck at the airport, trying to get on any flight to the NYC region or Boston.

It was my own fault. Of course people would be travelling to see their families. I was upset, sad, and depressed. My family was disappointed, and several of my friends were looking forward to spending time with me, including a friend I recently reconnected with thanks to Facebook who I hadn't spoken to since just after high school. I was eagerly looking forward to catching up with him; a few years ago, he came out of the closet.

Rescheduling everything, including a visit to the Late Show with David Letterman, proved to be simple enough. My boss was flexible, and I let my family know I'd come in two weeks instead. But I was still feeling hungry, angry, lonely, & tired (HALT, in recovery terms), so I decided I needed a meeting. I went to the 1:30 pm Tuesday meeting at NABA, and it was exactly what I needed! I hadn't been to a meeting since January (tisk, tisk), and I know from being in the rooms that maybe I was closer to drinking than I realized. This particular meeting "reset" my spirit, and I was feeling grateful to have a family who looks forward to my visits. I also felt very fortunate to have plently of friends here in Atlanta, and in the NYC area. The new-found humility and gratitude I felt was profound. I briefly felt bad for wallowing in my own pity, but if I don't persevere through self-pity, I get down and depressed. I feel like the world owes me something; that the occurrences of the weekend made me a victim, even though nothing catastrophic happened. My disease looks for these excuses to escape into self-pity, and once I do, I want to change the way I feel with alcohol. Wouldn't it be great to get drunk and forget about my responsibilities? Couldn't I just take off somewhere and indulge?

The effects of drinking after three years would be catastrophic, however. Not only would I have a seriously painful hangover, but the disappointment my family, friends, and I would feel would really set things back.

The last few days have brought about a much-needed positive shift in my attitude. After the meeting, I went to the gym and worked out hard. I continue my almost-daily workouts because it frees me of pent-up aggression, and I always feel good about myself afterwards. Not to mention, speedo season is practically upon us!

Last night, I stayed up late to watch The Buddha on PBS. What an amazing and inspiring story! And what perfect timing! I learned about how Buddhists believe that the unhappiness humans often experience are the makings of the ego. Our own minds create the hell we can sometimes live in. It was all very much in accord with Ekhart Tolle's teachings, so I was on the edge of my seat for the program's entirety. I feel a bit more enlightened today. And I loved the way it ended: someone asked the Buddha who he was. His answer: the One who woke up.

This isn't about us . . .

It’s a beautiful day to have the day off, and I’m doing some stuff around the house in preparation for my Easter trip to New York this weekend. I’m listening to Ricky Martin’s greatest hits as a celebratory gesture of his coming out of the closet yesterday. Some of the new songs I haven’t heard, mainly because my Spanish sucks, and he hasn’t done any English songs in a while.

As I was reading the coverage of his announcement, I noticed that many wrote about how this would have been significant had he come out when he was ‘big,’ like back in the ‘90s. Yes, many of us already suspected his true sexual preference, and yes he hasn’t been in the (American) public eye lately, but what we don’t see is that he’s been creating beautiful Spanish music all along.

The fact is this is enormously significant to gay Latinos all over the world. In fact, it’s a HUGE victory for gay people in Ricky’s native Puerto Rico, and for gays all over Latin America, especially since Latinos typically grow up in homophobic homes, with fewer, if any, role models. They look to openly-gay Americans and Europeans for inspiration to come out of the closet in their more hostile family and work environments.

This past November, I went to Puerto Rico to celebrate my birthday with a few close friends. While we were vacationing in San Juan, on another part of the island that same weekend, a gay male teenager was savagely murdered for being gay.

Several years back, I attended my cousin’s wedding in El Salvador, where the minister spoke out against gay marriage during the service. I had gotten married in Massachusetts the year prior, and as I squirmed in my seat, I was deeply offended and personally hurt that the minister would turn my cousin’s wedding into a political statement for his hateful agenda.

Last year, two men were legally married in Argentina, only to be stripped of their legal status when a judge overturned the decision.

Latin America has a long way to go in regard to civil rights, so, you may not be a big Ricky fan like me, but please join me in celebrating his courageous move. Gay Latinos everywhere now have a respectable, talented, clean-cut, handsome role model who will surely inspire others to live openly and honestly. Not to mention, his kids will grow up with a Dad they can admire.

LOVE ON THE ROCKS is going to be GREAT this year!

On Sunday of this week, I travelled up to Sandy Springs to meet with a REALTOR I'll be covering for in the next few days as he relocates his family to the Atlanta area. I'm very happy to help, and as a result we got to talking. He mentioned that he found my contact info on Facebook, and as he did, he noticed that I write very well. It was a sweet thing to say, and it was a reminder to myself that life rewards me in unexpected ways when I follow-through with my well-meaning intentions. It also reminded me that I have this blog I've been neglecting for the passed few months.

Since the Atlanta Cotillion ended last September, I've been out of the spotlight, and I've been enjoying it. I haven't had exciting things to blog about or upcoming events to promote. My life has been quiet, for a change. In the old days of drinking, my life was a constant roller-coaster ride that I reluctantly stepped off of. But the excitement didn't end because a new life was just beginning. Sobriety was exciting, and my new recovery friends were traversing sobriety with me.

In August of 2008, I decided it was time to take on a new cause: the Atlanta Cotillion, a long-term fundraising commitment that was extremely rewarding. The 2009 Class raised a combined $120,000 for those living with HIV/AIDS. Not only was it an amazing experience, it was also a lot of fun, and I made lots of great new friends along the way. It solidified the fact that Atlanta, Georgia was indeed my home.

It's been several months now, and we're well into 2010. Work is slow, and I'm getting a little restless. There are only so many nights I can come home from the gym and lie on my sofa, only to end up in a fit of tears while watching the latest episode of Intervention. I know I'll be involved in the Cotillion this year as I help my daughter, Julio, prepare for his campaign, but my involvement will be limited to an advisory role. So, I'm asking myself the question, What do I want 2010 to be?

One of my favorite causes here in Atlanta is Joining Hearts, a series of parties thrown throughout the year that also benefits agencies that help people with HIV. Their big summer party is one of my favorites in Atlanta. Thousands of gay men descend upon Piedmont Park's beautiful pool and party with a world-class DJ while sipping Grey Goose martinis under a fireworks-filled sky. What better way to spend a sultry July evening! I decided to attend their informational meeting last week to find out more about volunteering. We met at No Mas Cantina, a Mexican restaurant conveniently close to my beautiful new home in Grant Park. My anxiety subsided as I was greeted by many familiar faces. We learned about an exciting upcoming party for Valentine's Day, Love on the Rocks, which I attended last year with a date I shouldn't have gone with. First, he turned out to be a jerk, and second, he didn't want to stay at the party more than twenty minutes. I remember enjoying the delicious array of desserts that were scattered about the event space. Campy drag queens provided some hilarious entertainment. It's a party heavily attended by single gay men, and since my single status hasn't changed since the end of my marriage three years ago, I'm ready to mingle! Luckily in Atlanta's gay community, philanthropy and pleasure go hand-in-hand.

This year's event will be a memorable one, complete with gourmet bites and chocolates by Bridge Catering, drinks by Grey Goose, and Love on the Rocks Heartthrobs! Maybe I'll meet a heartthrob of my own!

Excerpt from The Power of Now, by Ekhart Tolle

"As long as the egoic mind is running your life, you cannot truly be at ease; you cannot be at peace or fulfilled except for brief intervals when you obtained what you wanted, when a craving has just been fulfilled. Since the ego is a derived sense of self, it needs to identify with external things. It needs to be both defended and fed constantly. The most common ego identifications have to do with possessions, the work you do, social status and recognition, knowledge and education, physical appearance, special abilities, relationships, personal and family history, belief systems, and often also political, nationalistic, racial, religious, and other collective identifications. None of these is you."