Tuesday, October 27, 2009

The Exchange of Power and La Forza Italia

Many of us accept play as a paradigm of life. We see power as an exchange that goes beyond the play space and into the broader field of citizenship, a role that each of us plays in our respective countries. This view of the praxis of power was promulgated by late twentieth century philosopher, Michele Foucault.

In Italy many refuse to vote, feeling that it is futile to engage in the political dialogue. Yet there are others that continue to participate in the process, despite the disheartening electoral results of the last decade. And as they continue to push against the formidable wall of Berlusconi's "Forza Italia," they grow stronger, louder, more resilient. Resistance training, Italian style.

If we embrace Leather as a lifestyle, a set of principles that infuses our own day to day existence, then we must acknowledge our role in the exchange of power. We must educate ourselves on the issues. We must take a stand and be engaged in our political process. Finally, we must vote.

To translate the words of Mussolini's nemesis, Antonio Gramsci:
The person who truly lives must be both a citizen and a partisan. Indifference is apathy. When one is possessed by it, one becomes a parasite, a coward. Indifference is not life.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

"- and entertain guests tonight."

When I was younger I recall a TV advertisement that depicted a housewife. Dressed in stiletto heels, a pinched waist dress, a perfect bob hairdo, and a big smile, the effervescent woman walked around the tiled floor squeezing out floor wax. Effortlessly she squeezed out liquid cleaner on the floor and spread it around with a shiny mop. Silent and always happy, she was the icon of the early 60s wife. Such advertisements were common.

During the last two decades in the community, I have observed Sirs who seem to believe in a similar paradigm relative to boys. They chastize their boys openly if they are not always pleasant, well-scrubbed, silent, and busy. They reason that boys exist only relative to Sirs, icons of service in the community. Always ready to drop to their knees or to lay back with legs in the air.

A number of years ago during a lecture at the release of his latest book, Armestad Maupin suggested that older Gay men display a form of displaced misogny when they treat young men as objects. A feminization of young men, always passively sexy and ready for action. I would extend that observation to include men in positions of power.

In Leather we talk about the EXCHANGE of power in our play, a dialogue between Top and bottom, Dom and sub, Master and slave, or Sir and boy. Understanding this, the majority of experienced Sirs work with negotiated protocols that provide security to their boys and facilitate this exchange. Their boys are free to express themselves next to their Sirs within these parameters, even to "misbehave" at times. Otherwise, without an active exchange, boys become nothing more than parodies of the perfect, pre-liberated wife.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Unmasking the Dottore

I keep a framed print of Il Dottore always sitting close at hand. Sometimes I wear a small, golden Dottore mask around my neck, made for me years ago by a craftsman in Venezia. During this period of my life I recognize the emergence of the Dottore from time to time, that classic Commedia dell'Arte character who personifies the absurdity of the mature, educated man. The fact that I have lived for an extended period in Bologna and obtained part of my education at that city's university further validates this recognition.

As a LeatherSir with decades of experience, I often find this mask placed firmly on my face when I allow myself to act without fully comprehending my boy's situation. Bushy eyebrows leading down to a red, bulbous nose, my judgment can be marred by the inebriety that comes from the belief that I always know best. When this happens, my words become as ineffective as the scatalogical prescriptions of the Old Fool. I must proceed cautiously.

In short, humility is the key to judicious behavior. And often using logic based on experience is not enough to understand what is best for a boy. This is true not only in play but in life.

Without an open mind and heart, extensive experience alone can often mask the Sir.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Miss Manners and the Old Guard

Before leaving town for the weekend, I invited my alpha boy out for coffee. Along the way he walked respectfully by my left side. He held the door open for me to enter the coffee shop, He stood behind his chair until I was seated. And he listened attentively as I spoke, inserting his own astute observations during the discussion. When we left he thanked me for sharing my time with him, and I thanked him in return.

I have often been asked how I train my boys. What protocols I use. "I wish that I was taught 'Old Guard' protocols," one sir exclaimed wistfully a few months ago. "You are so lucky to have been a boy twenty years ago when the Old Guard was still around."

I laughed.

The truth, both my boys appear well-trained because they understand good manners. They say "please" and "thank you." They respect their elders in the Leather Tribe. They defer to those who have more experience. And they are always willing to help when they are asked.

There is no great mystery to protocols. No secret "Old Guard" rituals. To crack the code of the Elders, I recommend that a sir buys a copy of Miss Manners' Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, the Rosetta Stone for training a Leatherboy. The sir should begin training in the common courtesies, elucidating his verbal instructions with his own behavior. When the boy has learned the basic rules of etiquette, the sir should then move to more challenging "protocols" such as showing respect for those in the Tribe with more experience.

Using Miss Manner's tome and demonstrating her rules of etiquette by his own example, any sir can train a Leatherboy in the tradition of "Old" Leather.

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

There will be blood!

It has been almost ten years since I have engaged in bloodsports. After the passing of my friend, Al D, I have not been able to entertain the idea of wielding needles or knives. I have conceded to others that it is no longer my thing.

"Whenever you introduce something foreign to the body, you must remember that you are entering that person and it is sacred." Al reminded me of this again and again. And having been a participant in a number of his piercing rituals, I can vouch for his words. In fact, bloodsports took on such a heightened meaning with Al that I reasoned that I could never again participate in them after his death.

Blood is the life force. But for Gay men it is taboo, especially for the men of my generation. My generation has witnessed the loss of too many Leathermen taken in their prime by that dreaded pathogen, HIV. To pick up a knife and begin to play again forces a confrontation with death far more than the immediate. The knife and the needle conjure up the memory of these men.

For years I have told myself that I have avoided these tools out of respect for Al D. But what better way to show respect than to indulge in this type of play? Perhaps my excuse has been nothing more than the romantification of his influence in my life.

In Leather we tend to romanticize our past. For decades we have conjured up the "Old Guard" like gods on Mount Olympus. We have created a Golden Age of Leather that thrived on Folsom Street and in long forgotten New York clubs. And we talk of our mentors with a contrived reverence, mistaking nostalgia for respect.

Perhaps the most important step as LeatherSirs is to understand that the play we do now is the best play, that the people who surround us now make up our true Tribe, and that our mentors prepared us to build on their legacy, not resuscitate it in rococo style.