Here's Where the Story Ends

You probably know this song by a few artists. Whenever I hear it, I instantly think of a quite specific series of events in my life.

Step in my Tardis and I'll take you back to December 1998......

I was living in Letchworth with Jamie, but it had been a terrible year. His health had been an issue, his family had been an issue, we had lost our home once, and nearly a second time too due to financial issues. We weren't really getting on as we used to .. and then I met someone else.

Martin wasn't my type at all. Thin, lean, no body hair, very pale. Not the usual Bear of a man that gets my juices flowing as twere. But we hooked up for a bunk up, then started meeting regularly. Frankly, he was a fantastic shag. His willy was quite long and curved up and over, rather than as if it would eventually point back at him. Believe me .... that can make a big difference! This carried on for a while and before long, I started to have more feelings than just casual sex. But I had a bf, he was engaged to a girl ... couldn't go anywhere really. Until he then sat me down one day and asked if once Christmas was over, Id move in with him. He regularly saw me at home with Jamie and felt he could give me a better life. That was the moment I let go and fell hook, line and sinker for him. Romantic notions of a happier life are always a good puller for anyone really.

So I really began to think about it. The logistics, the reality .... with him working in London and me in Welwyn Garden City, we could move somewhere a tad further south to reduce travelling, we both drove but would we need a car each? What would the bedroom look like? Would he come out to his family, after breaking off the engagement to be with me? What would my friends think? Will Mother like him? Or better yet, would I finally have a fella that Dad approved?

One cold January afternoon, I decided to give him my answer. We were sat in his car, and he gave me a very blank look. And then tried to deny the many times he had spoken to me about whisking me away, telling me how if I left Jamie, he'd leave Kim. And finally that actually he had shagged some 18 year old last week and was in love with him.

Have you ever felt like the whole world melted away, every colour drained as somebody ripped your heart from your chest and ground it in a mincer?

There is kind of an aftermath to this tale that involves myself and a close friend from back then stalking him, but for legal and incriminating reasons, Id best not tell them in public. Needless to say, Cybill and Mary-Ann were a divine inspiration. As was the copious amounts of vodka and marijuana we both used to get through back then.

So that song was on the radio .. and it just reminded me of those times. The song in itself is a little souvenir, of a terrible year that makes me wonder why.

In other news. Saw The Producers on Monday night down at Wales Millennium Centre. Starring Peter Kay and Reece Shearsmith. We were sat in the centre of the front row - and I never want to sit anywhere else for a show ever again. Speaking as a trained musical theatre performer, I can safely say its genuinely like being on the stage! The show is hilarious. A witty, escapade of how a failure of a Broadway producer hooks up with his accountant after realising that with the correct insurance, they can more money from a failure than a hit - but how to stage a failure? So with a offensive text in Hitlers favour and more gayness than .. well I could muster, off they go. But what if they create a success?

The show is pretty much a constant, guffaw-a-thon from open to close. A few particular highlights would be:

Carmen Ghia, Roger DeBris's 'assistant' exiting. You have never laughed so hard at just an extended arm, I promise you.

Betrayed. A recap of the entire evening so far, including the intermission. 'Where is the spoon? Oh its in the lid!' Genius

Anytime Peter Kay was onstage. Show stealer and ad libber, but then that's what he gets paid for.

And the very cute Stephen Weller. Who comes on as a village people type leather clone at one point, hairy torso exposed.

The tour ends Saturday and Peter & Reece were only there for a few nights, so if you want to go and see it ... you cant basically.

This is the photo I took during the curtain call ... only on my phone, so this is an accurate representation of our proximity!

Spice tickets have arrived for next week. Its the work Christmas bash in Manchester this weekend and I have a ticket for Kylie in July. Life is good.

Oh and according to the diary section on this webiste, I am choreographing John Barrowman in panto this year.

A long time ago in a county far far away ... bugger, wrong franchise.
Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name ... hm, almost...
Westminster. The Final Frontier..... that's better. From 97-01, i frequented a place called Pages Bar. A pub in Victoria that catered particularly for sci fi fans. It was themed to resemble a cross between Quarks and Ten Forward, was generally full of Starfleet Officers, Klingons, Trill et al, had star guests from time to time, quizzes, would show new episodes fresh from the USA early in the evening, and was an all round geek campfest from start to finish. I was never really part of the regular crowd as found I could only afford to get there once every few months, but nonetheless, Admiral Bob seemed to recognise me each time and would ask me to dance on the table for him. Apparently, my time warp & greased lightning were to his approval. But, the highlight of the evening for me would always be one of their home made music videos. Long before everyone else was posting them all over the net, Mani (the resident dj type) was making these. You don't have to know Trek/B5 or whatever to really appreciate the humour, but there is certainly another level of fun if you do.
Sadly, DS9 ended, Voyager became the Janeway and 7 of 9 Show adn Enterprise was just bollocks, so Pages became less Trek, more Buffyverse and of no interest to me. Its closed now, so i believe, so here is a taste of one of the things that made the late 90s great for me.

And the children shall lead.

So have a read of this over at Kev's blog ......
http://www.kevincharnas.com/2007/05/david-firefly.html
Sadly, in all my years of children's theatre, I don't have one like that but instead this one:

Picture it: Stevenage (arsehole of a town) 1994. Its four days before xmas and myself and a few mates are preforming panto at one of the local JMI's (Junior and mixed Infants .... 5 - 10 year olds basically). We have written it and the music ourselves and it follows a Grinch-esque story of how Santa's evil elder brother kidnaps him to stop Christmas happening .. but the elves, with the help of the audience manage to save the day. So i am playing said evil brother. The lead Elf, had managed to use the last bit of elf magic (thanks to the kids for shouting out the spell) to freeze me and asks the kids what they think should be done to punish me. Now, usually kids would all scream, beat him, send him to prison, make him nice or such .... but this one day, there was but a loan voice from a very small 6 year old girl. The type of angel whom from her big brown eyes peeping out from under her fringe, you would think that butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. So what two words of wisdom came from this ickle angel.

Burn him.

She was 6 and about three feet tall.
I was 23 and terrified of her.
Wednesday Addams was alive and well and living in Stevenage.

UPDATE: Just received this by mail, felt it apt to add here.....
A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small. The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. Irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible. The little girl said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah". The teacher asked, "What if Jonah went to hell?" The little girl replied, "Then you ask him". A

Kindergarten teacher was observing her classroom of children while they were drawing. She would occasionally walk around to see each child's work. As she got to one little girl who was working diligently, she asked what the drawing was. The girl replied, "I'm drawing God. The teacher paused and said, "But no one knows what God looks like." Without missing a beat, or looking up from her drawing, the girl replied, "They will in a minute."
A Sunday school teacher was discussing the Ten Commandments with her five and six year olds. After explaining the commandment to "honor" thy Father and thy Mother, she asked, "Is there a commandment that teaches us how to treat our brothers and sisters?" Without missing a beat one little boy (the oldest of a family) answered, "Thou shall not kill."
The children had all been photographed, and the teacher was trying to persuade them each to buy a copy of the group picture. "Just think how nice it will be to look at it when you are all grown up and say, 'There's Jennifer, she's a lawyer,' or 'That's Michael, He's a doctor.' A small voice at the back of the room rang out, "And there's the teacher, she's dead"
A teacher was giving a lesson on the circulation of the blood. Trying to make the matter clearer, she said, "Now, class, if I stood on my head, the blood, as you know, would run into it, and I would turn red in the face." "Yes," the class said. "Then why is it that while I am standing upright in the ordinary position the blood doesn't run into my feet?" A little fellow shouted "Cause your feet ain't empty."
The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Catholic elementary school for lunch. At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and posted on the apple tray: "Take only ONE. God is watching." Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies. A child had written a note, "Take all you want. God is watching the apples.

1987 onwards

So I remember it was a Thursday night. My mum and her husband (third husband, I stress) where at the pub as John played pool in the local tournament. Not that they needed that as en excuse to go to the pub, they went most nights. despite the fact that John couldn't hold down a job and mum wasn't working and there were three of us kids, 2 cats and 2 dogs to feed ... before we even start on bills. This is the same period in my mothers life where she sold my entire Star Wars collection for just £15 so she could go to the pub. But to give that weight, let me explain entire collection. Every figure, vehicle and playset from the first ones released in late '77 right through to the Ewok village released in Autumn 85. Have a look exactly how much merchandise that is, and what it was worth then. let alone what it would mean financially and emotionally to me if I still owned it now. The ewok village was only a month old, when it went. And the whole lot .... did you go add up the amount .... all was sold for just £15 so she could spend a night down the pub. But I bear no malice .. thanks to a large amount of therapy. But back to the story......

I was babysitting James and Elly (who were um ..... 7 & 5 at the time) and they were long in bed and asleep. Aron had dropped by knowing I would be in. The increasing awkward sexual nature of time alone had meant that i had been avoiding him somewhat as part of me knew that if it came down to actual willy business, I would be too curious and (in my opinion at the time) weak to say no. But he had me trapped like a cornered rat .... well, maybe not quite that harsh!

The conversation, as it always did, steered around to sexuality and did either of really believe we were 100% straight. I remember trying to avoid answering by deflecting into speculation about other guys at school and if they were gay, straight, bi, had or had not had any experience.... and that was when the shocker came. Aron told me that for the whole of the fifth year ..... actually, I need to explain something else first.

In the last year of school, we didn't have to take part in games (pe, phys ed, or whatever your culture calls it ... sports n shit). We could (and it was really only offered to the girls) either go assist with reading at infant schools and nurseries or go to a home for the elderly or special needs and help with home care. I chose to go back to school and teach kids. (i am getting deja vu here ... did I post this stuff already? Oh well, here it is again anyway). Aron, being the sporty type he is, did badminton and had to go off site to the local rec to do so. So, being the oldest and most responsible kids in school, we were all allowed off site from about midday to make our way to wherever we spent a Thursday afternoon. So while I and the girls headed off to William Austin infants, Aron and a few other guys went off to the rec. And while I stopped off at the chip shop fro chips, cherry coke and a saveloy, Aron and cohorts were stopping off in wardown park to suck on an entirely different type of sausage. The names he reeled off as having had in the last 9 months astounded me. One of them has since come out, so may have been true. Another is now married, living in another country (Pete, if you ever come across a Lutonian out there .... raise an eyebrow on my behalf) but I reckon may have tried it .. the rest I think he was making up to big up the story. But then came the crunch. And the peer pressure.

He offered me a blow job.

I was three weeks ish from my 16th birthday. I was curious. i was terrified. I didn't want to be gay. Could I say yes and just put it down to experimenting? Would people accept me better i I was bisexual? Would he let me come in his mouth as my dad had always said that when my first time arrived, to lie and say I wouldn't and then do it anyway as its better. Granted, he expected it to be with a girl when he told me that. Back in those days, phrases I use now to justify my actions like 'what would Dame Julie do?' just weren't around. So I did the only thing a pent up 15 year old lad can. Whopped it out for him.

It must have lasted ... ooh ..... at least a minute. I can remember thinking the top of my head was going to actually implode. My knees gave out and I collapsed over his shoulder, fireman lift stylee. And then he asked me to return the favour and I got really scared. I mean, anyone can get their cock sucked and if you close your eyes, its suddenly whoever you need it to be (trust me, I have pulled so many 'straight' guys with that line its not even funny) ... but being on the other end ... that made me queer. So I did it anyway just to find out.

And thus began 7 years of secret meetings, almost being caught out on many occasions, staying over whenever each of our families went away leaving us home alone. Trips away to see old friends who had left the area, midnight rendezvous' on golf courses, in the woods etc. But let me make one thing clear. This was never a relationship. There was no body contact outside of sex. There was no emotion involved. No kissing. We were not boyfriends. We were barely even ordinary friends at times. There was, however, competition.

When I finally got around to having a serious girlfriend, after faffing about for many years with snogging n shit, and it became a sexual thing (after one barbecue when i got a bit tipsy and horny. I was 18 and would have shagged a hedgehog that night if it had offered. Not that I mean to put the poor girl down, she was lovely and madly in love with me. I was just in that awkward cunt stage I mentioned before - you know, when I totally flicked Adam out of my life), suddenly Aron also had a woman he was shagging. His bosses wife. I never did and still don't believe this to be true. But since I had, he had to............. and vice versa. When he once told me about some girl he had had a mis guided grope with in a club, I then went out to the first girl who I knew already fancied me and made sure we got down and dirty too (not full shagging but there was mouth/genital contact on both sides) .

Then in May of 1993 (what is it with May???) Aron called me at work one day. Now, not only was this rare, but it always made me on edge as I didn't wish to give anything away. We only called each other on a booty call (again, not a phrase we used back then). But his reason for calling was quite different this time. He had finally been to a gay bar. I was stunned.

You see, from May 87 to May 93, there had only been each other, as far as men go. We had never ever set foot in a gay bar of club, never told anyone else. Why would we? We constantly had each other at our disposal. What would we need other men for? Plus, there was a lot of press about HIV and AIDS back then and little education. We were terrified and by only seeing each other, we stayed safe. No other diseases ever came to mind. Its just how things were for us back then.

But I am getting close to my coming out story. I feel that needs its own entry on here, don't you?

1984

Its OK, I don't think Big Brother is watching right now. He's a bit busy with claims of racial abuse.

So anyway, as promised, ramblings of my confused high school/teenage life. As inspired by Bsabas and I also promised him a return tale for the epic that is his Robert R story (which if you haven't read, nip up to the links and go read. Its a corker).

Sadly mine wont be as exciting. I had no failed romances with other confused boys. Just animal monkey lust with a guy I cared for only as a long standing friend.

And I find it hard to pin point the moment it all began.

Aron was cousin to the kids who lived a few doors up from me, so we had met first around my 7th birthday. A few months later, we were all at the same primary school together. They had all been in infants together too, but I had moved across town and my nan had decided that it was easier to change school with a new school year and the move up to juniors. So, I already knew Joe and Aron who were in my year, Joes older brother Tom, who was two years above us and that some kid called Alex, whose house I had been to his dad was my step dads boss, but it was late and Alex was already in bed so we didn't get to meet. It had already been a tough few months for me ....... in the previous year (which is a bloody long time when you are only 7) I had moved out of dads house as one of his girlfriends wasn't treating me too kindly and I had gone from being a bright and breezy child to not speaking at all and had developed a very nervous disposition, lived in nan and grandads rented house for about 6 months, then moved in to nan and grandads new house, Star Wars happened, mum announced she was marrying Alan ... you can see why I was terrified to suddenly now be at school in a class with none of the few kids I thought were going to be there.....

Of course, kids being what kids are, I got over that ... ooh ... by about playtime ..... and had realised that this Alex kid was in my class so sat next to him .... and that began a friendship that is still going strong (I was his best man a few years back and he and Karen have their second bab on the way as we speak). But as per usual, I digress.......

Aron and I became mates...... not close mates.... he liked football and judo ... I liked tv and Star Wars figures. But we both shared a love for clowning around and pop music. We would make radio plays from famous five books, go to each others house for tea regularly (but only once our mothers had exchanges written notes giving express permission to host or attend. You didn't just turn up or anything, hell no. It was planned well in advance and my mum always made lumpy mash). As junior school became high school, Aron very physically began to change ...and I didn't. We began to play different games .... games where you would have to imagine two 'buttons' somewhere about your person and the other had to poke and prod you to find the on button .... at which point the alarm would go off, meaning that the person being jabbed would wail or as it eventually became after a viewing of Bugsy Malone, repeat 'Tallulah' at the top of your voice. The otter person then had to find the off button as quick as possible. As 11 & 12, became 12 & 13, those buttons ended up some very personal places. And said body contact invoked reactions .. more from Aron than me at first as like I said, he grew up way quicker than I.

It was around this time that I realised what a great asset access to my dads porn was. To be honest, I had been exposed to it from a very young age as it was a main source of income to my family and it was just as blase as Emmerdale Farm or Crown Court to me. And again, I wasn't at an age where my body was reacting to such stuff yet. It just gave me a fuzzy feeling in my balls that I didn't understand, maybe I was gonna pee soon or something. Anyhoo, the guys at school found this VERY cool that I could, when I knew dad was out of teh country (frequently) , let us in, dish out some very hardcore books, and let the chaps read. I'd usually flick at a few pictures, get bored and go make soup or something. But after walking past the bathroom door one time, I noticed Aron was standing in front of the loo, trousers around ankles .. and to my abject horror/first pique of curiosity ... he was playing with himself while reading .... and then he came. Everywhere. I had never seen it happen outside of a film before ..... I was nervous, excited, appalled and a bit sick all at once..... I stopped inviting the boys round for porn sessions after that. But Aron kept asking.

It was always suspected at school that Aron was gay. But nobody ever gave him shot about it. Possibly because he was one of the biggest and strongest lads of our year - a real gentle giant though as he rarely said a word. Well, there was the one time in juniors that some girls were winding him up and he totally spacked out and started throwing desks around .... totalled an entire classroom aged 9. He never had to lift a finger after that, the reputation just followed him .... don't make him angry, you wouldn't like him when he's angry.....

So by the summer of 86, we are about to head into our final year at school, Aron works in the newsagents where I have my morning paper round and that summer we spent a lot of time together. Largely because we both get on well with my mum and have a scream all day watching daytime tv .. which was a relatively new concept in the UK then. It had just been schools programmes from 9.00 - midday prior to this. This also involved lazy summer afternoons, lounging around in my room or his, listening to True Blue, and any body contact got us both hard as nails. Even if accidental and through many layers .... but we both noticed and neither commented. I remember the odd occasion where my hand or his would slip and rub against offending attentive genitalia .... through thick jeans ........ and would remain there for a few seconds longer than was comfortable ... and again nothing was said. And that was pretty much how things remained between us until May 1987. The week after I left school. The night my entire life changed forever.

And I shall tell you about it tomorrow.