Saturday, July 19, 2008

Shorts not longs


When did it become daring for white men to wear shorts that actually fit?

The answer is 2001. The reason was mostly two-fold: gays and gas prices. And the effect has been an American travesty of literal and figurative sartorial decline unparalleled in the history of man.

But before we deconstruct, let’s reflect on recent observations from in and around the corridors of Toledo’s largest and oldest remaining indoor mall, Westfield Franklin Park. The participant/observer was I, founder of the northwest Ohio regional branch of M2-W2-S2. (Manly Men Who Wear Short Shorts)

Outside in the parking lot was a garish scene of massive metal on wheels: Rows of 11 mpg Ford Explorers among 13 mpg minivans with a few scattered teen-driven Cavalier-type cars with one or two of those ubiquitous Hawaiian leis draped over the inside rearview mirror.

The male occupants of these vehicles varied widely in age and economic class on this particularly sultry Saturday afternoon, but all were in on the same trend which has yet to die: below-the-knee, XXL homeboy-style shorts. “Shorts” they say, but more like skorts or even those for-homos-by-homos ‘Capri’ shorts which infested Fire Island in summers of yesteryear and called to mind clam-digger.

Inside the mall came a pageant of these baggy shorts in many colors, worn by men young to middle-aged, with girlfriends and strollers in hand. There were shorts like green Army fatigues, shorts made for country club wear, shorts that suggested soccer uniforms for the morbidly obese.

Most unsettling was the overabundance of pockets, the “cargoes”. I remember poking fun at this pocketed style back in like 1997. But there it was; still here!

Old stereotypes suggest that gay men would eschew this saggy pant look for tighter and shorter thigh-revealing and package-defining models. But this wasn’t the case. The gays wore shorts as low and baggy as the straights, if not more so.

Clad in red shorts reaching just below mid-thigh – a look not uncommon among GQ cover models from the mid-70s to early 80s – I undoubtedly looked the part of a freak (or East Williamsburg denizen who fell asleep on the L-train and awakened in a Red State).

In fact, under less constrained circumstance I’m sure several mall passersby would have gladly accosted and kicked my ass for such sissy shorts.

This sagging shorts trend seemed to go mainstream in the mid-90s with the so-called “wigger” crowd. The earlier adopters, as I remember, were gangster rappers and college basketball players like the University of Michigan’s “Fab 5”.

The style picked up through the 90s, making it to the A&F and AE sales racks and finally, by the early 2000s, to preppy collegiate J. Crew, which no longer sells shorts that would have fit an 80s yuppie. This trend should have died out in 2001, but instead that was year it became completely ubiquitous.

Several years ago in a couture issue of Peter Cummings’ celebrated XY Magazine, one writer suggested that this baggy shorts trend had outlived traditional fashion cycles because of homophobia and straight men’s unease over the rising glorification and exploitation of the male form in fashion advertisements.

Men had gotten more self-conscious about showing a little leg, he argued, and until they got over it, they would continue covering their bodies in subconscious shame.

Now I will contribute additional scholarship to the XY Magazine thesis:

Notice how shorts grew longer and baggier as our cars grew bigger and petro got cheaper relative to disposable income? (You can overdress and crank the AC when it’s just $1.80 a gallon)

Well, as those two later trends have hit reverse, perhaps we’ll see shorts reversing themselves up the white male thigh.

I could even be contented by a hybrid: shorts slightly shorter, slightly tighter, and hence only slightly gayer. (Just get rid of those ghastly pockets!) In such a bare-knee utopia, it would almost look like 1995.

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

From Frapp to FAT!





Really want to know what’s making Toledo (and middle-America) so fat?

My theory involves Dairy Queen. But the problem lies not with any proliferation of Dairy Queens. It is rather that for a shockingly large number of our girthiest, Starbucks has become their new and all-too-convenient Dairy Queen.

Back in the 1990s, the calorically-undaunted had to wait until spring before his city’s one or two DQs opened for the season And many of these DQ customers had to actually opened their car doors, step out, then walk inside to order – burning at least 5 to 10 of the 1,000+ calories that they were poised to consume.

Yet it was the entire DQ experience, from the star-spangled menu to the teeny-bopper seasonal help, which made it clear to people that they were enjoying ice-cream “treats”. These were indulgences they weren’t supposed to partake in, like, everyday.

But then Starbucks came to the Red States, and introduced to its size-shameless masses the Frappuccino. For all nutritional purposes Frapps are liquid Whoppers, just sweeter-tasting and less stigmatizing for the ladies.

That omniscient plus-sized, sweatpants-and-sandals clad sorority crowd would never eat cheeseburgers (in public) every other day. But these girls have few qualms with stomaching venti Frapps 3+ times a week at the Westgate Starbucks.

Indeed it appears as though three out of every four Starbucks customers in Toledo since 2004 have ordered Frapps. (In New Haven, for comparison, it seemed that 3 of every 4 girls in the early 2000s ordered a “skinny latte”)

The 3-of-4 Frapp ratio has definitely proven itself in the past two hours that I’ve been sitting inside the Reynolds Road/Airport Highway Starbucks in South Toledo. I have yet to see a drive-thru customer order anything but a Frapp.

A good rule of thumb: the bigger a customer’s ass or SUV, the larger his or her Frapp.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

A recent book review of mine, with bonus photo of the authoress


Thursday, September 13, 2007

The 600

Ask an American 7-year-old girl her perspective on hetero-normative mate selection, and she might explain how "somewhere, out there, beneath the pale moonlight," every princess will eventually find her prince.

So sweet and wonderful, right?

And the best part is that with mathematical probability, this simplest of maxims bears truthiness. (After all, even Bjork and Matthew Barney -- who are among the most quirky-amazing individuals still living -- did find one another in the end.)

But like most laws of nature, this one applies only for straight people. The gays, once again, have it a little tougher.

Considerably fewer than 10 percent of the world's citizens are looking to shack-up with a member of their own sex. So obviously the homo mating pool is much smaller in size and variety. All told, the chances are quite low that a gay of elevated tastes will find for himself the type of person he searches for. Consciously or not, he will eventually lower his expectations over fears of Time's winged chariot.

Which brings up my predicament. Although my personal life has most definitely not been oriented around mate-finding (I count on one hand the number of "dates" I've had since 9/11) it's still a goal I sometimes consider -- if only because I'm not Dorian Gray, and my dermatologist is no magician.

Truth be told, it would be nice to snag something out there before I get too old and undesirable.

So what I've been trying to figure out is how many homos are "my type". And I think I've got the answer. But oh shit is it dispiriting.

600. That's the number of 'mos in the U.S. for me. (And of course 300 of them live in Brooklyn!)

What qualities and traits do these fine male cock-lovers share? It's all a bit ineffable, but here's a draft of my list.

1. thin or athletic
2. a timeless bohemian spirit
3. a nature that transcends social and economic class
4. is way creative.
5. decently self-aware
6. is weird/a freak, or holds great appreciation of the weird/freakish.
7. is cute, and not overly feminine or asexual-looking (as trendy as that was, like, 3 years ago)
8. kinda looks like this, but without the cardboard.

*Do not mistake this list of ideals with carnal attraction* (The criteria for that is simple: if it has a girlfriend it's good, if it's married it's better, and if it's married with children, it is the absolute best.)

Not surprisingly, finding people that even vaguely fit this ideal is challenging, especially in Toledo, Ohio. I have met a fair number of straight guys like this, and they tend to look like indie rockers, overgrown scruffy skaters, or art stars.

I did see or meet a few gay ones during my year in New York, and I locked eyes with two or three on the Berlin S-Bahn. However, the majority of the gays for me died before I was born or succumbed to AIDs between 1984-92.

Sadly, due to my all-running-all-the-time-or-else-I'm-in-the-library mindset, I never nabbed me boys like this while at Yale, which graduates 1 to 2 of these homos each May.

Obviously the greatest barrier to finding a mate is living in Toledo. But "getting out" is easier said than done for a highly ambitious but thinly talented news writer like myself, despite all you've heard and read about the highly-mobile Creative Class.

Here is a listing of U.S. cities/boroughs/'hoods where my 600 men live:

Brooklyn (especially Williamsburg, West Bushwick, Greenpoint, Red Hook, and L-train): 300
Lower East Side of Manhattan, NYC: 25
Portland, Oregon: 75
Seattle: 50
Greater Los Angeles : 50
San Francisco: 25
Austin, Texas: 25
Boston: 20
Jersey City, New Jersey: 5
DC: 5
Athens, Georgia: 5
Atlanta: 5
Chicago: 5
Gainesville, Florida: 3
New Haven, Connecticut: 1
Muncie, Indiana: 1

Friday, August 24, 2007

When did full head become a luxury good?


Just how short is the attention span of gay Americans these days? Real Answer: Pretty fucking short, like the line for sushi in Toledo, but please keep reading.

No need to calculate the length of a Falcon Studios DVD, the falling circulation of Out magazine, or the number of Ritalin prescriptions filled per year.

This question can be answered by typing Craigslist in your browser, scrolling down to "personals," and clicking on "men seeking men." It may at first seem hard to believe, but Craigs List as a research tool can make a sociologist wet dream, and a phrasedick bust a nut.

Just please don’t get all red in the face from the calls for bottoms and tops, twinks and jocks, feeders and eaters, or, my far and away irony-dripping favorite, the "straight” men looking to suck, fuck, or parTy with other straight men "ONLY".

Notice how nearly one of every six Craigs List M4M postings includes a request or offer to suck penis "to completion?” Not sucking the dick "all the way" or "till you cum.” But "to completion."

I’m honestly completely puzzled as to how such a clinical sounding term has become this pervasive on a macho sex site. The majority of Craigs List’s sex-seeking men, from the 30-year-old Ivy League grad I-bankers to the 40-year-old married auto mechanics, seem to be trying hard to be as inarticulate as possible when writing their posts.

They write three or four quick sentences, free of any punctuation or capitalization aside from the common request of NO FATS OR FEMMES. They also drop certain keywords: "bro" "dude" "sup" "masc" and "chillin". Their wives or girlfriends are always out of town for the day/night. And despite all probabilities, their penises are never below 8 inches and more often than not are "thick."

All in all, their writing style aspires to that of a 19-year-old frat brother at Big State U who played quarterback in high school for his small town’s all-white team but nowadays just wants to drink beer, bang girls, skip class, and maybe rub penises with another boy every month or so when he’s real drunk and horned up, but fuck no he’s no fag or anything.

Right…In real life, there are maybe two to three young men who actually fit this description in every state. Yet online, it seems they’re one of every three posters.

Here are recent examples I’ve picked from Craigs List’s Toledo board: [bold added]

1. “just want to get together for some great oral to completion.”

2. “looking for str8 bi guys who just want to lay back and have his cock sucked to completion.

3. “Sub white male, 40, looking to be used and abused by dominant male. Love to give oral to completion.”

4. “SUCK ME TO COMPLETION.” * [This posting appeared under the Detroit board]

5. “Vgl bi college jock wanting to get my cock sucked to completion.
Str8 or bi single men only. NO FAGS. !!!”

6. “21yo in shape male seeks cock to suck to completion and shoot on my face.”

7. “Looking to have my dick sucked to completion... U must host... my cock is 8 cut and throbbing. “
8. “need 2B sucked to completion

9. “20, 6'3, 200#, 33w, white 8"c seeking horse hung college boys UNDER 25 to perform oral to completion on. Gimme your load”

Try sending these folks an articulate and well-punctuated email reply, and your inbox will forever stay empty. And this is why the "to completion" phenomenon is so fascinating. It’s in this atmosphere of macho swaggering and intolerance of anything un-fratboy like, that the nerdy phrase has actually flourished.

The only explanation I can think is maybe “to completion” carries the notion of emotional detachment, and makes participating in gay sex for these faux aspiring homophobes seem purely a physical act. That way you’re not really getting it on and ejaculating with another man. You're just placing one order of oral, done to completion.

The phenomenon also begs the question of why an oral sex ejaculation has apparently become such a big deal and hot commodity.

Have the nation’s dick suckers been going about their work half-assed? Merely 78% to completion, leaving big business unfinished? If so, I predict we’ll soon hear of a ravaging epidemic of blue balls that will spread from the metros to the ‘burbs, much like what is happening lately with the syphilis.

If and when it happens, this public health crisis would have also had its beginnings among the MSM demographic. (Men who have sex with men)

It’s all a frightening notion, yet mildly loin-tingling. I just hope the pandemic would sputter out before reaching completion here in South Toledo.

Friday, August 17, 2007

My First Blog

So I'm finally starting that blog I've been talking about.

While I'm well aware of how passé blogging has become at this later point in the century, I nevertheless think it might be kinda fun, and maybe a good writing exercise.

My subject matter will include people, things, and ideas that I find interesting, from a run-down of the cultural scenery at the National Tractor Pulling Championships, to "analysis" pieces on the latest Hop Topic hipster trends at the Collingwood Arts Center.

Also, just who in northwest Ohio is counting "Manhunt" as their sociological "third place"? I promise to upload photographs.

All I ask from you, the reader, is to let me know when I inevitably "jump the shark", and crash into the anathematic waters of lameness.

(Oh shit, I think I just did)