I was 12. I loved Kids from Fame and other stuff.
AIDS. That what you thought about in the early 80s if any one mentioned about being a puff. A queer. A bender. Pretty difficult to comprehend, when you are still a child. I was 12 in 1982 and I knew I loved boys. I was one of those. I was ‘a one’.
My life growing up in the 80s was a secret. I didn’t want it public knowledge. I knew that I wouldn’t be accepted at home and certainly ridiculed at school. Even without public admission of my sexuality I used to be called names and made to look stupid. Like the other boys in my class, I didn’t take to football, which was relentlessly pushed on us in physical education class. The teacher was too lazy to do anything and he used to throw a ball at us and told us to get on with it while he left for an hour to sit in his office.
I was never taught to play any sports by my father in fact I have no recollection of him spending any time trying to encourage me to participate in any sport. Only one time I was dragged down to watch a local cricket match and I was utterly disinterested. My mother claimed it was because I didn’t understand it until I explained one day how cricket the game was played. She didn’t win that argument that time.
I didn’t tell my parents that I was gay. I was quizzed over a Sunday lunch and in various other times to be told in no certain terms that I wasn’t to say I was gay. It was ‘unnatural’ according to my mother. When I told her the same year that abortion had been legalised homosexuality had been partially decriminalised she was haven’t none of it. ‘Aunt soandso had a son who was gay and she died of a broken heart.’ She lamented.
The worse was yet to come. During one of our ‘discussions’ I was told that if I had ‘come out’ then my mother felt like she had failed as a parent. Somehow she could prevented my sexuality by acting differently. So parents should stop their children acting in a manner that would cause their life long preference of same sex attraction.
Listening to the remastered ‘Listen without Prejudice’ (George Michael) and I think about that time in the early 1990s. I was hurt by what my mother said and thought. I reconciled with her and eventually came out to her when I was much older. She wasn’t happy but eventually we went back to have the great relationship we had for years. Things did get better. The past is the past and the people who have come and gone are in the past for a reason.
I don’t think I have ever spoke about gun control on this blog. But the tragic news today has made me think.
Firstly, my thoughts and condolences are with the families and friends who have lost loved ones in this horrendous tragedy. It’s appalling to think that so many people lost their lives in such a way that is easily preventable.
This wasn’t a natural disaster like a hurricane or an earthquake. Something that couldn’t be avoided or stopped. This was a deranged terrorist (and rightly named) who brought carnage, death and suffering on an unimaginable scale.
Yet I am still hearing that people in America will not move on the idea that there should be stricter gun laws in the country. I have heard commentators repeating their mantra that they should be allowed to access weapons as it’s this is their right.
All I can say is that thank goodness I live in the UK and not USA. It is almost laughable that a progressive country like USA is allowing its citizens to carry out mass-murders without sensibly addressing the issue.
When the Dunblane massacre occurred in 1996 stricter laws in the UK were brought in and I believe made the country a safer place. I had to reassure my class at the time as they were frightened that a gunman could do the same in the school. They were genuinely worried.
If ISIS had carried out this attack, USA would have reacted. If North Korea had done the same they would have bombed their country. The utter madness and insanity in this that America cannot and will not police itself. Believing their second amendment right outweighs the rights of those who tragically lost their lives.
The USA has collective denial. Some of those people who were affected by the Sandy Hook tragedy have campaigned for tighter gun laws. This was reflected in Barack Obama’s attempted and failure to change the country’s law regarding guns.
Everyone can own and drive a car with a licence that’s attained by certain standards. These standards are legally required drive on UK roads. There are yearly checks made on a vehicles road worthiness. Billions of pounds is spent implementing safety measures in vehicles so people are less likely to be insured or killed as a result of an accident. Yet America is not prepared to do so on guns which are solely designed to insure or kill. If you don’t know that a definition of madness is, this is it.
I have fallen into the trap. It was my fault for getting into it in the first place.
I made the horrific mistake of communicating something over the internet hoping it would be taken in the spirit in which it was intended. To demystify some untruths and highlight some inaccuracies. My goodness I got it wrong.
I was hoping that by speaking up for the town I live in that maybe it might help others to realise what we have where I live. Nope that was seen as being wrong. I couldn’t have my opinion and I couldn’t express something positive. If I gone on a racist rant or vilified a whole religious community then some would have thought that was a better thing to do.
I have time and time again said to myself not to argue over the internet it is futile. Whether this be on twitter, facebook or any other social media sites. No one is happy. Even if you say something good and positive about life. Nope some has to chip in to knock you down.
Tomorrow is another day.
Cameron Dallas is very good looking. That’s it.
I watched the Netflix series ‘Chasing Cameron’. Oh my goodness. It’s a car crash of a programme.
Let me explain. Cameron is a ‘Social media influencer’. What the hell is that? That’s what I asked when I saw it. Basically someone who has a lot of followers and gets attention from mostly of teenage girls. The title of the programme explains neatly what the programme is about. It is people chasing someone who is good looking. That’s it, nothing else of real importance happens.
What I found bizarre about the programme is that Cameron and his cronies call themselves ‘The talent’ without having any visible worthwhile gifts or qualities that contribute to society. Jumping up and down on a stage and throwing bottled water at someone isn’t talent, a monkey could do that and probably be more entertaining.
‘Touch every single girl lives in a way that they have never been touched before‘ is the horrific opening ‘prayer’ to one of their shows. The fact that a request of the almighty that each of ‘the talent’ has energy for the show is ludicrous and should be mocked for what it is. A higher being is sitting mulling the world’s problems and he makes an exception and blesses a bunch of hormonal teenage girls in a room watching guys make complete fools of themselves while being charged hundreds of dollars for the pleasure. At least when we screamed at the Beatles they were performing something worthwhile. This isn’t.
We witness throughout the episodes the breakdowns, tantrums and a guy suffering from heat exhaustion and dehydration treated with prayer. We also are also witness Dallas himself being berated for sneaking a girl on to the tour bus. This is alongside other teenage boys, who are living in the same area. His lack of awareness and blatant inappropriate behaviour is beyond astounding.