A Matter of Size

Just playing with this one--



Let me know what you think.

Swimming for Fitness and a Sense of Well-Being

Sixty-years old now, I've been swimming for a long time.  My usual routine is to swim a mile of crawl.  A younger friend, age 46, a tennis player, and all-around athlete, asked me how I could stand it--didn't I find it very boring?.  We didn't even discuss the fatigue element--I don't believe it is that much of a problem for him.  As I understand it, his major difficulty is that it is boring, and that you're not visibly accomplishing anything.  The major reason he is swimming is that after years of playing tennis, his knees can't take the stress of activities that have put major stress on them, especially running and jumping.  So, here are my tips about swimming.  I'm assuming here that you can swim well enough to swim the length of a 60 foot pool and that you are able to breathe at least minimally while you're swimming. Here goes:
1. Gear - Swimsuits- I prefer to swim bare-assed.  However, as this is hardly ever possible, I suggest wearing Speedos.  If this is not possible, I suggest that you wear any bathing suit that won't slip off while you're swimming.  Currently, I usually wear "board shorts" bought in Target for about $20.  I initially swim the length of the pool and back and then retie my bathing suit which usually then stays put for the rest of my mile swim routine.  Goggles- Goggles are an essential item.  Speedo makes various models.  I usually spend around $20 for goggles as well.  It's really not necessary for most people to spend much more.  Make sure they're comfortable, that adjusting them is easy, and that they have a good "suction fit".  I find that tinted goggles are really nice if you are swimming in most locations, and especially nice if you're swimming in a sunny location.
2. Attitude - You need to focus on the fact that you are doing this for you.  You are competing with nobody.  You do not have to swim perfectly.
3. Breathing - I've assumed that you know how to breathe in the water at least minimally.  If you're having difficulty breathing in the water I suggest that you try and remember that the primary thing you need to concentrate on is blowing the carbon dioxide out.  You can tilt your head just enough, and for a short enough period to get more than enough air for one stroke.  If you've blown out the carbon dioxide, this will be an easy and natural process.  I absolutely never concern myself with getting enough air while swimming.  You only need to relax and tilt your head and suck in air very gently--if you have blown out the carbon dioxide, this will occur with very little effort.
4. Counting - I count every length that I swim and I say the number of that length to myself every time I breathe out.  With the breathing and the counting your swimming approaches meditation.  Counting every length keeps you focused.  If you lose focus, and this happens, you can usually catch yourself because you are saying and even or odd number to yourself when you're swimming what should be an odd or even length.  This too is okay.  Just make the adjustment.  In a 60 foot pool I usually count till I finish 22 lengths, which is about a quarter of a mile.  I've found that counting above 25 gets more difficult.  So, for a mile swim, I count to 22 four times.  In different length pools I count to different numbers.  I attempt to have only four "segments", but in a smaller pool, after 100 lengths I count out another segment for the appropriate number of lengths.
5.Swimming - As my Zen teacher said "When you swim, swim".  You need to do nothing but swim.  This in itself can feel liberating.  As you're swimming and counting, thoughts will inevitably enter your mind.  Let the thoughts come.  You will probably not realize that you are "thinking" instead of "swimming" right away.  However, the counting will eventually help you realize that this is happening.  When this happens, just say to yourself "thinking about ....." and then go back to your counting.  If your arm begins to ache or you are feeling something else, just say to yourself "feeling my arm" and then go back to the counting.  The counting, the rhythmic breathing, and the physical activity are all working to help you feel "in the moment".  When you are done swimming, you might, if you remember them, review some of the thoughts that came to you when you were swimming.  For instance, today when I was swimming I thought about writing this article, I also thought about my late friend and Zen teacher Madeline Ko-i Bastis.
5. Speed - Swim at a speed that is comfortable for you.  While you are swimming, you may "trance out" and slow down.  Again, the counting will help you maintain focus and you will probably get a message- "slowed down" as you are swimming.  You can then accelerate back to your comfortable speed.  When I was younger, I used to swim the mile in about 29 or 30 minutes.  Now it's about 38 to 40.  Try to keep a pace that is under an hour for a mile.
6. Distance - When I first began swimming as an adult at age 32, I really had no idea what a work out should consist of, and I was just going to use the swimming as an aerobic.  I believe that at first I swam 16 lengths, which was the distance required when I went to camp that allowed you to take out a canoe by yourself.  I had the good fortune, however, to have a lifeguard, Susan, at the Y who encouraged me to go for a mile, and by the second week of swimming I was there.  If you are relaxed and breathing properly a mile is not a long distance to swim.  Most people get tired from swimming because they are struggling to breathe.  When you breathe properly it's only the actual physical activity that will tire you out.

7. Playing - As I approach my last two lengths, I get into "playing".  Sometimes I swim as fast as I can for those lengths.  Sometimes I see how far I can still swim on one breath.  The "play" begins to bring me out of the state I've been in during the swimming.  After I'm all done, I usually just swim underwater a bit, do a bit of fantasizing, do some bobbing, and tell myself how terrific I am and how wonderful life is.  And it is!

Mitchell Gold, Charlie Rose and "Faith in America"

If you possibly can, please treat yourself to the Mitchell Gold-Charlie Rose interview. The interview focuses primarily on Gold's new book Crisis, but Gold also talks about his growing up gay in America during the approximate time I did. He reveals his crush on Richard Chamberlain as "Dr. Kildare" at age 12, a crush he shared with me and probably thousands of gay boys of that era. (How many of the boys in junior high wore "Dr. Kildare" shirts?--unfortunately I wasn't one of them.) The book, consists of essays about the pain involved in growing up gay by a diverse group of people, famous and not so famous. Gold mentions that several people he approached about writing for the book told him that they really couldn't write in the book, as being gay was not really a "big issue" for them and that there was no "crisis", conflict, or struggle involved.

I guess I like to think of myself as conflict-free in this area as well. Obviously, that's not true. At eleven I was concerned that I was a "faggot" because I stunk at athletics. My excellent singing voice and competency at dance made me a prime candidate for female roles in plays at my all-boys summer camp. Although, I loved these roles because I often got to play opposite Scott, the boy of my dreams, the teasing that accompanied them did little to enhance self-esteem. Late puberty, accompanied by adolescent gynecomastica , engenderd feelings that something was wrong with my masculinity while arousing my curiosity about the growing adolescent penises and secondary sex characteristics of other boys.

Sexual play with my friend Fred during several sleepovers (mostly after going to Bar Mitzvahs) fed this curiosity, peaking after the first time Fred produced a few drops of cum for me. I don't think I was all that troubled by the sexual play per se. After all, sharing Fred's developing sexuality was just part of sharng between friends (we used to get naked together when we were five). However, I was increasingly troubled by my slow development, wondering whether somehow God was punishing me for an early sexual interest which started at age eight when two girls at school told me where babies really came from and I began checking out books from the library such as "The Stork Didn't Bring You", "Your Growing Body (for boys)", etc., and stealing peaks into copies of "Tropic of Cancer" and "Lady Chatterley's Lover" which we had in our house.

Fred and I sort of drifted apart after we were fourteen. We were in different grades (I had skipped two--putting me at least three years behind in my development with my classmates), and both of us developed new friends. Finally, at age 15, masturbating on the bathroom floor, I produced my first drops of cum. A few weeks later, I began jerking off regularly, usually humping the bed, fantasizing fucking Marjorie, a girl I was attracted to, but really more concerned in my fantasies with my penis, what is was doing, and what it was producing.

New Years Eve 1966 brought my first full-blown (no pun intended) homosexual experience with my friend Michael, who was only five months older than me, but who was already shaving. After a night of partying where, I believe, I made out with Susan S, we went back to Michael's house. No one at Michael's house was expected home that night, and so we had the house to ourselves. My recollection is somewhat vague, all I remember is eventually being naked with Michael, humping and jerking each other off, but I don't remember how we reached that point. I think we were both passionate (we really liked each other) and I remember Michael telling me that I would be a "great husband" someday, a comment on our lovemaking. I felt wonderful. Michael's acceptance of my naked body was real important to me and we repeated the experience whenever we could. We were concerned about other people finding out, but we weren't concerned about being homosexual ourselves. After all, we didn't kiss (at least not at first) and you were only queer if you did "it" after you were eighteen. We were only sixteen. Therefore no problem. Q.E.D.

Slammer

Last week I was in Ft. Lauderdale. For those of you who don't know, Ft. Lauderdale has one of the most vibrant and eclectic gay communities in the country. If you go, I recommend that you first visit either "Rosie's" or "Georgie's Alibi", both located on Wilton Drive in Wilton Manors. Both of these eating and drinking establishments (Georgie's is more of a bar, Rosie's is more of a restaurant) are filled with a broad array of gay people (mostly men, although Rosie's tends to have about 30% women). It's always party time at both places, the folks are extremely upbeat. What's really unusual, especially for someone from NYC, is that both places have really variegated crowds. You see young and old, gym bods, regular bods, and flabby bods, bears and pretty boys, white collar and blue collar, and the amazing thing is that every one seems to get along and respect each other.

That said, I must confess that in addition to visiting "Rosie's" and "Georgie's Alibi", my partner and I paid a visit to "Slammer Club" . Slammer opens at 8 pm and advertises that it stays "open till you're done". Another ad states something to the effect that you're guaranteed to "get off". The building is identifiable only by "321", written large on the rather stark building. An amenity is the fact that the parking lot is attended by a very friendly attendant who helps you find a spot. Once inside, you pay at a window, and you're offered a wallet and phone check. You can also rent a locker, but we were told that "most guys keep their clothes on". The attendant at the window was, of course, dressed in leather, mustache, chain jewelry, the works. Posters reminiscent of "Tom of Finland" decorate the lobby. Once inside, there is a bar that I imagine sells mixers (you seem to have to bring your own alcohol), and is tended by a bartender dressed in leather jockstrap which does not contain his huge cock, a requisite leather vest, combat boots, and chains.

The rest of the place is painted black and is very dimly lit. Despite the lighting, one can't help noticing the "hand sanitizer" dispensers placed throughout. The one area of warmth and light is a big fireplace that looks like something out of an old Vincent Price movie. The center of attraction is a raised platform with cage-like vertical bars as well as pieces of plywood that are cut out to allow those standing below to suck those standing on the platform. Big rooms and smaller rooms provide spaces for group and individual play.

So, was the place a turn-on? Yes and no. Raised in the 1950s, somewhere in my psyche there is still the notion that sex and especially sex with "other boys" is naughty. The idea of touching another boy's penis or having him touch me is dangerous, thrilling, and bad---and that idea gets me aroused. We have all been little once, and seeing erect penises, seeing whether they're bigger or smaller, thicker or thinner is a lot more than just interesting. Watching male asses as guys pump their cocks into other guys mouths is very hot. We're all being bad together. Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn watching Jim's big dick as he goes for a swim, and touching each other. This is not love - this is rebellion. And rebellion is a turn on. You could get killed, but there's some sense of safety in numbers. So if we're all being bad together and we get caught, we can save ourselves.

But we can't. Despite the "hand sanitizer", places like Slammer are still breeders of disease. Many HIV positive men go to places like this because nobody's asking, and, in the bad boy frenzy, nobody cares. To its credit, Slammer provides plenty of condoms throughout the labyrinth, and people are using them for anal sex. But the down side is that all this bad behavior can get you into real bad trouble.

So, what did I do there? I watched, I got excited, I jerked off. I was always a cautious boy. Luckily.