Tag: Donny Kaye

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ABCs of Life by Donny Kaye

It seems that life is about mastery. In my mind, Mastery is not to be confused with perfection but rather the ability to actually experience life as it presents, moment-by-moment. Mastery connotes experiencing life effortlessly, without resistance and in the spirit of surrender. By surrender, I am not suggesting submission or irresponsibility.

There was a time when I experienced life in a very black and white manner, with little tolerance at all for the shades of gray that constitute actually living life as it presents. My personality needed knowledge and control to assure me that I was on some predetermined “single” pathway.

There is a part of me that would like to believe that life can be guided by a list such as The ABC’s of Life, however; my experience suggests that about the time I master A, B and C, life requires guidance from X, Y and Z!

If I were to create such a list, the wise one within would begin with ALLOWANCE. As I use the term allowance, I’m not thinking of the seventy-five cents a week for taking out the trash or cleaning off the dishes nightly from the dinner table. Allowance is a pre-requisite of being able to meet life’s challenges just as they present. Allowance is a way of looking at my life events not as obstacles to getting what I want but rather as stepping stones. Allowance cultivates trust. Trust that everything that appears appears as it must. Trust that comes through the experience of allowance, allows for certain things to fall away from my life as well as for certain things to come into my life.

The B in A, B, C, is just that, be! Being is about cultivating a capacity to be present to what is. Being allows for an informed response to what is, rather than the experience of constantly reacting with either agreement or disagreement. The constant reaction to what appears begins to lessen and a true sense of wonder serves as the lens for viewing life’s experiences.

Change is constant, becomes another critical aspect for me in understanding life. I have found that when I am able to surrender to the changes that are life, I am better able to stop resisting and instead, allow what life’s experiences bring to me. Change is constant! What must I do to create the ability to remain flexible in my thinking and my actions? To allow and be, requires flexibility and surrender to the realization that change is inevitable.

My years of experience in this lifetime, and quite possibly, previous life times, make the development of a full list, A-Z daunting and perhaps impossible to create. As an educator, I remember using excerpts with my staff from the book, Everything I Needed to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten.

As I look back on that listing of essential learning from kindergarten, I am reminded of the following ABC’s of Life, by Robert Fulghum:

  • Share everything.
  • Play fair.
  • Don’t hit people.
  • Put things back where you found them.
  • Clean up your own mess.
  • Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
  • Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.
  • Wash your hands before you eat.
  • Flush.
  • Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
  • Live a balanced life – learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
  • Take a nap every afternoon.
  • When you go out in the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together.
  • Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: the roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
  • Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup – they all die. So do we.

Everything you need to know is in this list of ABC’s somewhere.

And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – LOOK.

LOOK! I must develop my capacity to witness my life, without bias or expectation, and always with a sense of Wonder for what is. Realizing that “what is” is precisely the life event that is needed for a certain life lesson.

I am not suggesting a naive or Pollyannaish outlook on life but the creation of a life which when viewed by the witness within is viewing the life experience with clarity, through a lens which does not distort, nor color everything as rose colored glasses might.

In David Whyte’s poem, “No Path”, he states in his opening line, “There is no path that goes all the way. Not that it stops us from looking for the full continuation.” To exist with an expanded sense that there is no one way, be it right or even direct, but the experience of life from the perspective that everything belongs is entirely possible and practical.

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

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Details! by Donny Kaye

One of the first television shows I really enjoyed as a kid was Dragnet with Sgt. Joe Friday and his partner, Frank Smith. One of his iconic lines for which I remember him most is, “Just the facts ma’am, just the facts!” My formative years were influenced by Joe Friday especially living with a mom who seemed to be able to find objection as details were shared. When I stuck to the facts I was more inclined to be allowed to do what I wanted to do than if I embellished at all with details. It seemed that the details of who I heard something from or where I heard it often resulted in restrictions that weren’t at all favorable to the interests of a young eight, nine, 10-year-old boy. I remember being banned from Jimmy because I attributed my use of SOB to him when questioned by my mother as to “where had I heard that language,” totally disregarding that my father used it frequently. Plus absolutely no credit was given me when using the term appropriately, in reference to my male dog. Our clubhouse was suspect, as was the far north side of our neighborhood where my friend Eddie lived and where I first tried puffing on a cigarette, not fully. Appreciating how detectable the smell of smoke was! I also learned that there were times when I could embellish with details, often which were made up, and I might receive favorable judgment and consequently, allowance to do what I wanted to do. What I realize now some 55 years later, is that those formative years and ability to stick with the facts as well as to embellish with detail when thought necessary became a way of life for me especially as a closeted man with stories that couldn’t be told without, what I presumed, severe implications and consequence. Leaving out the details of one’s life makes for a rather bland and unremarkable life experience. While at the same time trying to keep straight all of the embellishments thought necessary to cover that which seemed so necessary along life’s way, make for an interesting dilemma when trying to recollect the stories of the past. The experience of Storytime at the Center each Monday has helped me to reconnect with the richness of who it is that I am as a man who has recently come out of the closet. Beyond the opportunity to reclaim the stories that are my past, this experience is helping to create an attention to life’s details that is unparalleled.

Increasingly I am in a state of wonder and awe not only at who I am but who it is that journeys with me in this experience called “MyLife.” The details of my life are rich, exciting and inspired. My life is the unfolding experience of grace and passion. The details making each moment beyond what I could’ve imagined. I pay attention to the details not in a perfectionistic kind of way which I had refined over my lifetime but in regards to the quality that is brought to each of life’s moments as a result of being present to the detail if each moment. Just the facts? Awe, come on and tell me a little bit more of the juicy stuff that makes one squirm!

About the Author

Donny Kaye–Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

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Mirror Image by Donny Kay

When I look in the
mirror at this time in my life I recognize someone that I’ve not acknowledged
throughout most of my life experience. Yes the image in the mirror reflects
someone who is maturing in age with lines surrounding the eyes and furrows
across the receding hairline depicting the experiences of a long and arduous
journey. The weathered skin, giving evidence to the effects of the brutal
Colorado sun.  The hair has turned white. 

And yet as I look at my image I see someone
vibrant and alive with desire, passion and energy expressed in the radiance of
the eyes and smile, as well as the demeanor that is reflected.  It’s no
longer difficult to view my image without seeing qualities that I’ve refused to
consider in times past.  I gaze with honor and respect for my
courageousness to not have given up on this journey.  It’s easy to extend
love and acceptance to the one looking me squarely in the eye.  I find me
desirable, not in a conceited way but in a way that allows me to wink as I
glimpse at the image, welcoming the one who knows me inside out, as I step into
the reflection that is me.

The one who gazes back at me in the reflection
is the one who has journeyed this entire life experience with me. The one in
the mirrors reflection is the one who knows me better than anyone else. 
It’s this one, the one in the mirror that has been present in each moment of
life’s experiences, like a truly devoted and loving friend.  It is the one
in the mirror that some spiritual teachers refer to as the Beloved, who has always
loved me.  It is the one in the reflection that I have rejected time and
again and yet, he is always present, matching my gaze.

The images I was more customary to witnessing in
the reflection in the mirror were not positive.  I would wonder how anyone
could ever see me as handsome or remotely desirable.  I saw myself as a
phony and imposter.  There were times when I would look in the mirror and
loathe the reflection that stared back.  

Six years ago I stood in front of the mirror in
a locked bathroom. The shower was running, the faucets at the sink had been
turned on along with the fan that whirred as the steam was drawn from the
enclosed space. As the sound of the toilet marked its return from a recent
flush, I whispered to the one in the mirror, “I think I’m gay”. 

Tears formed in the eyes of the one looking
back. I think I even detected an affirming wink. For the first time ever there
was a sense of safety and acceptance as our eyes exchanged views. We looked at
one another for a long time, afraid to break the intimate exchange that was
ours alone to experience. If ever I was to experience a homecoming, it was in
the moment of that exchange. 

Six years ago, as this confidence was shared
with the Beloved, this life journey changed course allowing me to finally love
again the one who has always loved me. And in the experience of love,
forgiveness and compassion take back my life. 

What was required was that I be willing to
get rid of the life that I had planned so as to have the life that was waiting
for me.

© 1 April 2013

About the Author



Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. 
He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always
knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male.  In recent years he has confronted the
pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality
and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life.  “I never forgot for a minute that I was what
my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my
loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center
has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his
childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of
his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of
his memory.  Within the past two years he
has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three
children, their partners and countless extended family and friends.  Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected
with his family.  He lives in the Capitol
Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has
resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life
experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community. 

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SPECIAL EDITION: PRIDEFEST 2013

Today’s Special Edition presents stories by two authors.

Pride 2013 
by Donny Kaye

As we drove south on University Boulevard we passed the church. A flood of memories overwhelmed me as I recalled the rehearsal the night before the wedding service and the actual wedding that followed the next morning, Flag Day 1969. The years that have passed have been filled with a lifetime of experiences, all of them memorable and significant to my life at this moment. There were times of closeness and the experience of love. There were children and the challenges as well as gifts that only parenting can bring. A career captivated my attention for 30+ years. Aside from the day-to-day challenges of being a father to three incredible individuals and a career there were vacations to remember, family outings to recall and the constant attention of a life complete with the demands of aging parents who required care themselves. And ever present in those days that flowed into years that quickly became decades, there was always a sense of aloneness and difference that I tried to understand and yet was fearful to confront. 

As the theater darkened I felt the presence of being surrounded by family. The one I sat closest to and I held hands as the performance of Elton John’s music was performed by the Denver Gay Men’s Chorale. The rhythm of my heart kept beat to the melodies and lyrics that are the songs of life that this masterful talent has created and was now being performed by the men of the chorale. The warmth of the hand of my companion allowed me to relax into knowing in my heart that this life journey is precisely on path. 

As I sat amidst family, holding the hand of the man who stirs my heart and soul in this moment, I couldn’t help but recall all that has transpired across this lifetime I call mine. Stonewall, only a few weeks after that wedding day in June; the demands of my brothers and sisters across this nation and the world for equal rights; AIDS; the continuing invitation to step out of the closet, a closet filled with fear, judgment, shame, dread, isolation and separation. All are memories I have moved beyond and yet they remain as colorful and essential threads of the fabric of my life. 

As the concert ended I stood with a profound awareness of the PRIDE that I hold in being me, finally, me. The one who can once again can love himself; the one who can genuinely extend unconditional love to another. 

We stepped into the night air, and I danced to Rocket Man playing in my mind as we moved across the grass. I declared that this year’s PRIDE celebration had officially begun!

©  June 2013

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

One Summer Afternoon 
by Michael King

After the walk down Colfax with the Color Guard and other veterans while wearing my red hat with all those polyester flowers attached, we watched the rest of the Pride Fest parade. It was over at 11:30 and we had an hour and a half before I was due to be at the Center for Spiritual Living’s booth. I had put the hat back into the bag and along with the other bag with the sandwiches we hadn’t eaten we dropped the two bags off at the booth and wandered around Civic Center Park. By noon we were sitting on a bench in the shade and observing the crowd.

Observing, watching, sometimes making comments about the more outrageous or unusual and occasionally speaking to someone occupied the afternoon. I arrived back at the booth about a quarter to one and Merlyn went to see if he could be of help to the Prime Timers.

I spent the next couple of hours passing out stickers that read “Shine your love. Love your shine.”

One observation that really stands out is how many people are obese. Of course with the costumes it was often emphasized in an especially unattractive way. Sadly there are so many children and young people that will soon be on disability as a result of the stress put on their bodies from all those extra pounds. Another awareness I had was how many men and women were so heavily tattooed and/or had multiple piercings. It’s not that I don’t see this every day; it’s just that the percentage of those attending Pride Fest was so high. I wonder what many of these people do to earn a living and how many are receiving SSI and Medicare.

There were a large number of beautiful bodies also with lots of scanty and sometimes stuffed underpants, naked boobs with hearts or tape on the nipples, a few bare asses, masses of bare bellies hanging out, many queens in drag, the leather crowd, lots of dogs suffering from the hot pavement, babies and young children being pushed or dragged along, some drunks, some stoned, lots of holding hands, some intimacy, way too much bad music and often too many people in one place.

The most unforgettable T-shirt was worn by a very petite and vivacious young lady; it read “Sorry fellows I only suck pussy”. There were many ways people expressed themselves and a few surprised even me.

I had spent Saturday at both the Prime Timer’s booth and at the GLBT Centers’ information center. So this was my second day this year to do the kind of people watching that can only be done at Pride Fest.

I really enjoyed putting stickers on the hairy chests. Of course the majority of people got them on their shirt, arm or bare skin. One cute guy took his off his chest and put it on his nipple and asked for another for the other side. I put it there and he gave me a big hug. I got and gave lots of hugs. I know a lot of huggers and a few I didn’t remember even though they seemed to know me. I was of course getting a lot of attention and having my picture taken because I was wearing the red hat and my Tibetan beads hanging off my ears.

Every year I get to have many special summer afternoons. In fact practically every afternoon, morning and evening is special all year long. And every year I get to spend two days enjoying the eye candy, the misshapen bodies, the costumes and the nice hairy chests.

After Pride Fest we went to my daughter’s for a Father’s Day dinner. My grandson MR B gave both his father and myself a card. Here is mine. I’m one hell of a lucky gay granddad.

© June
2013

About the Author

I go by the drag name, Queen Anne Tique. My real name is Michael King. I am a gay activist who finally came out of the closet at age 70. I live with my lover, Merlyn, in downtown Denver, Colorado. I was married twice, have 3 daughters, 5 grandchildren and a great grandson. Besides volunteering at the GLBT Center and doing the SAGE activities,” Telling your Story”,” Men’s Coffee” and the “Open Art Studio”. I am active in Prime Timers and Front Rangers. I now get to do many of the activities that I had hoped to do when I retired; traveling, writing, painting, doing sculpture, cooking and drag.

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SPECIAL EDITION: PRIDEFEST

Today’s Special Edition presents stories from two authors.


How Queer Is Queer: Just Being Me

by Donny Kaye

“SOME DUDES MARRY DUDES.  GET OVER IT”
“I HAVE A PHD. Pretty huge dick”
“BEST LICK ON A STICK”
“I LIKE GIRLS THAT LIKE GIRLS”

     These were some of the t-shirt messages I enjoyed while interacting with participants in this past weekend’s PRIDE celebration.  And the t-shirts?  The t-shirts don’t hold a candle to some of the titillating visual experiences of viewing participants in various costumes throughout the weekend.


     So, just how queer is queer? Can you ever be too queer? Is there an option to be or not to be? How Shakespearian!

     Yes!

     I am! Queer that is!

     It’s Friday night of PRIDE weekend and I’m walking down Colfax headed into the action, as it were. My youngest daughter has just text me saying “it’s your first dad” referring to it being PRIDE weekend. Actually last year [2011] was, she just didn’t know it!  Then, that is. And yet when I came out she was the one of my three children who said “I’ve always known dad”. In that instance I must’ve been too queer.

     That warm sunny Sunday afternoon in April over a year ago when I had my “I can’t stand it any longer” conversation with my life partner, she said “I wondered when I first met you”.  There must have been something there, I mean, like over-the-top in too queer.

     When I had breakfast with my dearest friend Grett who I’ve known since she was two years of age, amidst the tears and in the sense of shame in revealing to her that I kept the secret for far too long, she said “I’ve always known”. 

     There seems to be a pattern; partner, daughter, best friend, all seemed to have known. In fact when I consider the many coming out conversations I had with my “then” circle of friends” not too many were surprised. It was the confirmation that sent them scrambling! 
I don’t know if that was about me, or them, but definitely it was too much!

     And so this Friday afternoon as I walk through the cloudy streets in Denver headed into Friday night PRIDE celebrations I wonder about too queer and it being too much! In the question of too queer it seems more about them than it does about me, after all, I’m just being me.

     Yes, I do have an eye for design and color. I’ve always searched for just the right things to put together, like in clothing-wise and decorating-wise and in every-other-way-wise!

     If not HGTV and the shows on design always (or most of the time) presented by recognizably gay men, I enjoyed the food channel. Could that possibly be a tip-off, in terms of being too gay?

     Yes, I’ve always been on the sensitive side as my mother used to say. Even when I announced to my mom that I was getting married her response was, “Why do you want to get married? There is so much of life for you to experience!” I have an ability to listen to people and to intervene on others behalf as they need me. I sit and cry with them. I’ve always been able to put my arms around someone consoling them in their upset, doubt or grief.

     So, there you have it; my attention to design, my interest in food, the emotional sensitivities and then you add the fact that I’ve never liked sports, and I happened to choose a profession where I worked with women all the time–what else could you expect. Even before I began my career in education when I worked in the factory, I was one of the only stockmen who could keep all of my dyke female machine operators happy!! 

     Certifiably queer! I am just me! 

     The questions and the discomfort around my possibly being too queer really do rest with everyone outside of me and not really with me.  As I exist in that realization, I wonder if the pushback is about their doubt about themselves and the possibility that they are too much, in one way or another. Possibly at some point in their lives they’ve considered a variant sexual experience too! One thing for sure, I’ve certainly gotten their attention, if gaining attention is what the t-shirt slogans and the unique dress (or undress) are all about.

     When considering the question of “too much,” the actual realization is that the quality of being too much exists in the eyes and mind of someone outside of myself and then gets projected back onto me, making me wonder if I am too much!  Those dirty rascals!

     And so I ask you my dearest of friends am I “too queer” or might I just be BEING ME?

[The above story references PrideFest 2012.)



About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community. 


Queer, Just How Queer
by Phillip Hoyle


      I love to use the word queer, the term brought into gay prominence in political and academic queering movements of the 1960s through the 90s. I also like it for the memories it raises of my grandma Pink, who in old fashion used the word for anything odd. I like it for its political symbolism and for making positive a word too long used as a pejorative. I like it for its strength. I like it for its inclusive quality covering the bases of LGBTandQ concerns. I like it for its exclusive quality, as in not too many people I run into want to be called by this moniker. I especially like the discomfort its use raises among some of my gay friends! It’s a word of wide potential and great humor. So just how queer am I? It’s a fair question. I’ll try to answer it once and for all.


     This morning I looked through the photographs on my digital camera that included those I took last summer at Pridefest Denver 2012. I was surprised to find there quite a few more images, ones I thought had been erased when I uploaded them into my computer. I flipped through frame after frame and saw so much of my life there, even photos from Pridefest Denver 2011. First I saw a photo of my partner’s 90-year-old mother, sitting at the kitchen table drinking her morning coffee. I often kid her about all her gay sons although only one of her offspring turned out to be gay. Her multiplicity of gay sons is made up of all of Jim’s and my gay friends. I call them her growing family of gay kids. She smiles for me and takes delight in these others who bring her presents of chocolate, humor, and unaffected affection. She represents in this picture a nine-year connection I have with her son and the growing numbers of her other gay sons. The photo reveals layer after layer of queer experience and relationship, but it’s just the beginning. I did mention two sets of photos taken at Pridefest, but I haven’t yet told of the hundreds of photos of the family of plastic pink flamingos that live in our yard shown standing alone and together among a variety of ferns. I took these and many more in the past couple of years, the queer obsession of a queer artist! I also haven’t mentioned many photos of flowers, of my artwork, of self-portraits, of extreme Christmas decorations at a local gay bar, of the bunch of men I run with at parties, in restaurants, and on the street. I haven’t told you of pictures of an art display, of drag queens, of small, large, and supersized lesbians, of gay architects and engineers, of employees of Chipotle restaurants, of young people polling for the Obama campaign, of great arches of rainbow colored balloons, of a guy wearing fairy wings, of a barely-clad muscle man standing by a muscle car, of the model in a platinum blond wig and red bikini sitting in a red convertible advertising At the Beach, of a parade on-looker smoking a huge stogie, of people dancing, of a young drag queen posing sexily for me, of a young man in shorts sitting on the curb with his little dog watching the parade, of political signs urging the election of sane officials, of leather studs, of a drum and bagpipe band in their smart kilts, of religiously motivated anti-gay protesters, of two young guys in interestingly revealing slacks, of Senior Citizens doing a dance routine with their walkers, of youngsters calling attention to Rainbow Alley, of the prominent landmark The Center makes along the route, of the partiers on its roof sometimes watching the parade passing by below, of the poignant reminder of the ongoing presence of AIDS among us, of wild hairdos, of the Imperial Court, or of the leathery Uncle Sam who stopped to ask me, “Where’s the free beer?” I haven’t said a word of many other pictures of musicians, dancers, activists, on and on. These photos are my people whom I celebrate with my little digital camera as passionately as Walt Whitman in the nineteenth century celebrated the democracy of America, the endless variety of life, the human body, his own body, and his sturdy comrades with whom he liked to lie in Leaves of Grass. 

     So just how queer am I? Really, really queer. I’ve been trying to tell you just how queer in my stories! In summary of all I’ve said to you in the past, hear this: 

* I’m as queer as the little boy who wanted to wear both cowboy and Indian costumes in public.
* I’m as queer as the boy who donned his great aunt’s wig and sister’s skirt and went to the family grocery store to show himself to his dad.
* I’m as queer as the teen who used to lie in bed next to his dad, not only to read alongside him but also to smell him.
* I’m as queer as the teen who bragged to another boy about marking his friend with hickies.
* I’m as queer as any teen boy singing in the school choir and more than most of them.
* I’m as queer as the high schooler who looked forward to each issue of House Beautiful.
* I’m as queer as the boy who ordered prints from a NYC art print company and treasured the company’s catalogue with its variety of homoerotic images.
* I’m as queer as the young man who discovered the striking 
International Male ads and catalogue.
* I’m as queer as the young man whose first male friend in adulthood was homosexual.
* I’m as queer as the young man who read all the homosexual-theme books in the public library.
* I’m as queer as the young man with wife and children who at age thirty fell in love with another man.
* I’m as queer as the young man who reveled in the idea he was bisexual.
* I’m as queer as the young man who discovered that his homosexual proclivities lay at the center of his sexuality.
* I’m as queer as the middle-age man who had sexual affairs with other men.
* I’m as queer as the writer who when he was asked to include cultural diversity in an adult religious education resource anthology quoted gay writers and HIV-related themes alongside many other cultural writings.
* I’m as queer as the middle-age man who left his wife to live as a gay man in a large city.
* I’m as queer as the old man who snapped photos at Pridfest knowing he was as queer as anyone there and loved the notion and the reality of it.

     I am the old man who says all these things proudly and with love, deep love for all my companions:
* Male and female
* Educated and uneducated
* Professional and worker
* Wealthy and dirt-poor
* Crazy and sane
* Chic and tasteless
* Laughing and crying
* Hale and exhausted
* Living it up and overwhelmed
     
     So, how queer am I? Pretty darn queer and happy as a lark about it.
     And now, if you’ll pose, I’ll take even more pictures with my camera, snapshots of the folk who add so richly to the queerness of my existence and the joy of my gay life. 

About the Author

Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, giving massages, and socializing. His massage practice funds his other activities that keep him busy with groups of writers and artists, and folk with pains. Following thirty-two years in church work, he now focuses on creating beauty and ministering to the clients in his practice. He volunteers at The Center leading “Telling Your Story.”

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Culture Shock by Donny Kaye

For all those years that I existed in
the closet I had an impression of what homosexual culture was.  My narrow
perspective was formed by the very same institutions and people that had
created in me the sense that who I was and the sexual energy that stirred in me
was wrong, something to be changed,  Something that even warranted a death
sentence.

I was confident that I would be regarded as dark and sinful and lacking in
moral integrity. I learned from the culture in which I existed there had to be
a sense of moral depravity on the part of those who engaged in homosexual
behavior.   

The culture taught that homosexuals were degenerates and even a threat to the
sanctity of American family values.  Certain politicians had identified
for the American public that homosexuals, especially those who asked for their
rights to marry were no different than terrorists.

Homosexual acts and those who committed them had always been described in less
than flattering terms. After all, gay men were the equivalent of dog fuckers!
Jokes abounded about the likes of homosexuals.  Homosexuals were seen as a threat to all
things decent and good.  Sodomites. Psychiatric nut cases.  Child
molesters. In the minds of some, homosexuals were regarded as “The Revolution”.

As a man of a certain sexual persuasion, I existed in the closet with greater
intensity, extremely fearful of the culture that I would enter if I were ever
courageous enough to step through the door that I had locked and sealed so many
years ago.  Even though I knew who I was, or at least of the sexual energy
that stirred in me, I felt the guilt and the shame from the cultural
understandings of homosexuality by association. 

The shock of the homosexual culture as described by the predominant culture was
so intense, disgusting and terrifying that the thought I could ever cross the
threshold of the doorway, kept me from the very essence of who I am. To enter
such a culture seemed an impossibility. 

At this time in my life the true shock for me that is experienced is in the
disgust I hold for those who perpetuate the lies, judgments and condemnation of
this culture, my culture. 

What I found, once I found agreement
within me to cross the closet threshold and enter the culture that I had feared
for so long; my judgments, my concerns and my fears were immediately disproven.
I read a quote of Dan Savage’s which
begins to address the experiences I am having as I coexist in this family I am
coming to know as my family of choice. 
“…what goes down under my roof is a social conservative’s wet
dream.” 
Within the container of my family of
choice I am in the experience of profound compassion, the expression of deep
caring and consideration, and a refreshing occurrence of people existing with
one another in truth. Yes, there are exceptions but isn’t that true
generally?  There seems to be an
increased level consciousness that I experience as I interact with my newest
family members.  I am realizing that for
the most part they act with integrity, openness and a deep sense of personal
responsibility.  They exist with dreams
and a propensity toward creating peace and living consciously. 
My Friday night experiences on the
dance floor at Charlie’s attest to the capacity of diverse people to coexist
with one another in a spirit of celebration and lightness.  Men dance with men, women with women in some
instances.  And at the same time there
are hetero couples moving about the floor, alongside men following the lead of
their female partners.  Some of the
individuals on the floor are dressed in drag, either feminine or
masculine.  Manly men, gorgeous women,
dykes, butch, fem, it doesn’t seem to matter. 
Old coexist with young.  Black
with white, all the demographics I was taught to fear move in unison to the
music, most significantly with engaging smiles, occasional winks and
always  a parting hug as the music stops
and couples move from the dance floor back into the whole of human kind. 
This is my culture.  It reflects consciousness and allowance for
each to be precisely themselves.  It is
sensible, and reflects hope and desire to live peacefully with the rights of
individuals, assured and respected. It is a culture that reflects true family
values. 

About the Author 


Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

    

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The Facts by Donny Kaye

The fact is that I am a man of a certain sexual persuasion. As a man of a certain sexual persuasion I am finding a new, more relaxed countenance in which to experience the challenges as well as joys of life’s twists and turns. In this place of honesty, I find myself in a continuing revelation of happiness as I experience all that is my life without feelings of reservation about just being me. The fact is that I’ve not always experienced my life from this perspective. There had always been a reservation about me that if anyone in my life knew that I liked men in the way that I do, I would be judged and excluded from relationships as primary as my parents, siblings and immediate family, not to mention my own children, former life partner and friends who had become part of the fabric of my life, over sixty plus years of existence on the planet. The fact is that I worked very hard to create an illusion about my identity that even had me fooled for much of my life. That expectation started for me in the earliest years of my life when I was declared “such a good little boy” by my parents and others immediately engaged with me in life. The fact is that “when striving to be the best little boy,” even in the body of a grown man, there was no spaciousness for someone who preferred men. This meant that I spent a lot of my energy loathing the very essence of me. The fact is that by creating an illusion about my very nature I have consequently created a situation where those who were close to me are still searching to define their relationship with me now. What I have realized is that there is a disconnection that has occurred with others as I have worked to connect with myself. The fact is My life belongs to me. Those close to me are fortunate that I am sharing it with them. If I love them I cannot share a lie. If they are to love me, I will let them love me. The fact is this has resulted in losing the love of a lot of people, at least temporarily. But if they loved a character that I was playing for them, if they loved someone who wasn’t me, then that love was already dead. The fact is there are people in the world who will love me for who I truly am. The experience I am realizing now, having come out, is that happiness is more complete when not holding reservation about being who I am. The fact is I had money, careers, degrees, vacations, every material thing! Nothing ever made me as deeply happy as “coming out”!

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

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House Cleaning by Donny Kaye

Housecleaning, thoroughness, reward and perception were all interconnected in my early years of formation with my mother. By the ages of seven, eight and nine I was responsible for the weekly cleaning of our modest home in Athmar Park. My father was a laborer at the nearby rubber factory and consequently our resources were few. This meant that what belongings we did have were cared for in the most particular of ways to extend their life as much as possible. My parent’s European heritage as well as having survived the Great Depression resulted in the lived experience of the old adage, cleanliness is next to godliness.

Weekly, the house cleaning tasks were evident and it was my job to complete those tasks, thoroughly by noon on Saturdays. If the tasks were completed to my mother’s satisfaction, “The Best Little Boy” was rewarded with a trip to JC Penny on Broadway. There I would get to pick out new underwear, or socks, possibly a new striped t-shirt as my reward. The essentials hardly seemed a reward but if I didn’t meet the cleanliness requirements, I went without! Children of today might regard this as abusive!

I learned that each cleaning task in each room of our unassuming home was essential and non-negotiable if I was to receive my reward. Cleaning meant the whole house, in its entirety, not just the front rooms of the house or any type of weekly rotation of cleaning; it meant all of the rooms from the back door and out the front. “Spic and Span”, early on became my motto!

Being “The Best Little Boy” also meant distinguishing early on, the best cleaners for different tasks such as vinegar water, baking soda, bon-ami, as well as the skillful operation of the Hoover and manipulation of the ringer in the rag-mop bucket.

I trained early-on in life and developed some useful life skills when it comes to housecleaning. I also realized as a child that house cleaning served to cover up some of the unique character of our meager belongings. I don’t know that it was a direct teaching but I certainly learned that if it was clean and orderly, there was less likely a question to be raised about quality or fundamental characteristics. It certainly taught me that some things were best kept in the closet, even if the closet in the back of the house existed like the legendary “Fibber McGee and Molly’s” closet.

Some of what I learned as a seven-year-old has transferred into essential skills and learning for life. Especially these past 10 years I have come to realize the whole house does not have to be done immediately and that it’s possible to approach it one room at a time starting with the most essential of the living spaces. If that space that is the most lived in is attended to in a good way, the other spaces of the interior can hold and be dealt with as necessary. And when the main interior space is cleared, the need to cover up what is fundamental diminishes into nonexistence. Since that day in the quiet and isolation of the bathroom when I first acknowledged my homosexuality, the cleansing that was necessary for me to begin this journey into wholeness began. One day at a time; one revelation to the next. First, my former wife, a few close friends, and then my children, extending into coming out clearings with 39 others, the cobwebs of a lifetime resulting from a closet not opened. Recently someone asked me about my coming out. Specifically, they were curious to know how my parents and siblings had taken the news.

“I waited until they all had passed!” I responded.

All had passed except for my nieces, whom I have come out to and one remaining brother-in-law, whom who has known me since I was two. And whom I haven’t been ready to face, much like that closet in the back of the house filled with the messy keepings of a lifetime. Last Wednesday I made that call and scheduled a face-to-face visit with my brother-in-law whom I’ve been avoiding for nearly 2 years. After dusting off some of the space between us with light conversation, I came clean and revealed that I was divorced and finally acknowledged to him what I have always known, that I am a man of a certain sexual persuasion. He moved toward me, close in. With eyes soft and moist, he responded by acknowledging having known me since I was two, that he and my sister realized long ago, when I was a child, that I was different. At eighty-six he even used the words, “coming out” with me as he assured me that my orientation made no difference in his love for me.

A true cleansing had occurred, a housecleaning of sorts. The skills I have learned over a lifetime applied to that final space within. I had come clean, no longer needing to hide the orientation within me that I presumed objectionable to those who have become the fabric of my life. The experience of confiding in him and experiencing his love was about acceptance, both mine and his. We parted with a long embrace, him whispering to me his love for me and his acknowledgment of how courageous it was for me to have come and sat with him. I walked from his front door with a spring in my step. Whew! A sigh of relief! This house is finally clear, it might even be called clean. I know this won’t be the last house cleaning I will have to do regarding this room of my house. Many more conversations will occur allowing me to come clean about the essence of me, just as the housecleaning that is always there as a result of living and the passage of time. But for this moment, like Saturdays when I was 7, 8 &9, the house is clean! What’s my reward? Clean underwear, so to speak. And maybe, just maybe the satisfaction that comes with recognition of a job well done! I think I’m going out and play!!

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.

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Cops in the Sky and the Tale of the Best Little Boy by Donny Kay

I’ve always thought that there existed someplace in the sky a special police force. I’ve referred to that agency as the “Cops In the Sky”. I’m confident they exist for the sole purpose of taking away my status as the best little boy and in so doing heaping their judgments on me and confining me in a prison greater than the prison that I’ve created for myself in this goofy tale of the “Cops In the Sky and the Best Little Boy.”

Let me tell you a tale, goofy though it may be…

When I was born my oldest brother was 22 and his first child was only months away from being born making me an uncle before I was a year old. My nephew Jerry was my best friend as well and together we joined the Cub Scouts and my brother was the Den Daddy. I’ll never forget our first camping trip when we loaded our camping gear as well as that of several other boys in the back of my brother’s DeSoto Suburban.

On the way to the mountains we were playing in the back of the car and I snagged off a tag from a sleeping bag I had borrowed for the camp-out. Just barely being able to read I was able to figure out the message on the tag which I was then holding in my hand which read, “Do not remove under penalty of law.”

What’s really goofy about this tale is that somehow at the age of seven I envisioned that there were cops-in-the-sky whose job it was to come after little boys like me who removed tags from sleeping bags in the back seats of family cars on the way to the mountains. My upset continued into the night and was the source of my not being able to fall asleep, confident if I didn’t remain watchful the cops in the sky would come out of the forest of trees and take this seven year old away to some kind of prison for those who removed “do not remove” labels from sleeping bags!! Plus, how would I ever explain to the people my parents borrowed the bag from how such a good boy could have put them in possible jeopardy as well with the cops in the sky.

What is even goofier about this tale is that I was the little boy who never got in trouble! And, here I was, the one most likely to be arrested and taken away to prison before the dawn of my first overnight camp out! I still have reservation whenever I purchase a new pillow or blanket and remove the label, confident that someone’s watching over me and an alarm someplace is going off! And this was happening to me, the little boy who was such a good boy, not to be confused with a goody-two-shoe. I felt like such a phony!

In addition to the incident with my sleeping bag my anxiety was compounded as a child hearing that Santa Claus always knew who was “naughty or nice” and that God knew all of our thoughts and actions, especially the naughty ones. I was doomed because some of my thoughts weren’t always nice and certainly bordered on naughty especially when I fantasized about cowboys, and duos like The Lone Ranger and Tonto or Batman and Robin. How could I, the little boy who was always so good ever be found out for naughty thoughts like those!

Growing up as the youngest child of older parents created circumstances for me where I was required to spend a lot of time with my parent’s friends who were all older and whose kids were grown. By the time I was eleven or twelve I was already thinking I’d make a better older person than a kid! Typically, there were no other children around. I would need to sit and read or color or play with my toys in a corner until I went home with my parents. What I often heard was ” Donny is the best little boy!”

I remember once hearing this comment just as I was removing the lid from a crystal candy dish in an adjoining room. I then heard the host commenting that “as the good little boy that I was I would only take a single piece of candy from the dish”. How could the best little boy be thinking my thoughts at the time which were to load my pockets with the entire dish! I saw myself as a fraud. I was such a phony.

The more I lived with needing to be “the best little boy”, the more I was conflicted by the judgments of me being phony. I soon realized that if others ever figured out how or even worse, who I was as a little boy who liked cowboys, I definitely would be taken away forever by the Cops in the Sky!!

Looking back I realize how formational these experiences were, especially when it came to my sexual orientation. How could “the best little boy” ever be a homosexual. I have lived confident that the Cops in the Sky knew and were watching every time I hurriedly pulled onto 13th avenue, merely having driven through Cheesman Park or when I would buy a men’s magazine; expecting that the same alarm that went off when I pulled the tag from the sleeping bag as a seven year old was going off somewhere signaling I was about to get caught by the Cops in the Sky and it would all be over for the “best little boy.” My reputation ruined. Cast away by any and everyone who ever had known the “Best Little Boy.”

In looking back on my life there is a continuing theme in terms of the tale of my life. The fear of being caught by the Cops in the Sky and then judged and condemned created a paranoia in me that hasn’t served me in the best of ways in terms of living in integrity with myself. Coupled with the notion of being “the best little boy” kept me in the closet far longer that I should have ever agreed to. After all, several of the family and friends I’ve come out to have said “I always knew you were gay”, and not once have those legendary cops that existed in the Tale I created ever seemed to notice my actions. As well, life was intended to be lived and not restricted by living up to expectations like being the best little boy.

So you see, even though the Tale has been exposed, it has not lost its influence in this boy’s life. Just this morning when my shelf installer drilled through the wall for his anchoring screws, and a neighbor commented on the holes in the hallway, the best little resident went running to the manager to confess his error, not the error of the installer, confident that my status as “Best Resident” in my new condo was in jeopardy. Oh, the saga continues…

© 1 April 2013

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.  

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How Queer Is Queer: Just Being Me by Donny Kaye

“SOME DUDES MARRY DUDES.  GET OVER IT”
“I HAVE A PHD. Pretty huge dick”
“BEST LICK ON A STICK”
“I LIKE GIRLS THAT LIKE GIRLS”

     These were some of the t-shirt messages I enjoyed while interacting with participants in this past weekend’s PRIDE celebration.  And the t-shirts?  The t-shirts don’t hold a candle to some of the titillating visual experiences of viewing participants in various costumes throughout the weekend.

     So, just how queer is queer? Can you ever be too queer? Is there an option to be or not to be? How Shakespearian!

     Yes!

     I am! Queer that is!

     It’s Friday night of PRIDE weekend and I’m walking down Colfax headed into the action, as it were. My youngest daughter has just text me saying “it’s your first dad” referring to it being PRIDE weekend. Actually last year was, she just didn’t know it!  Then, that is. And yet when I came out she was the one of my three children who said “I’ve always known dad”. In that instance I must’ve been too queer.

     That warm sunny Sunday afternoon in April over a year ago when I had my “I can’t stand it any longer” conversation with my life partner, she said “I wondered when I first met you”.  There must have been something there, I mean, like over-the-top in too queer.

     When I had breakfast with my dearest friend Grett who I’ve known since she was two years of age, amidst the tears and in the sense of shame in revealing to her that I kept the secret for far too long, she said “I’ve always known”. 

     There seems to be a pattern; partner, daughter, best friend, all seemed to have known. In fact when I consider the many coming out conversations I had with my “then” circle of friends” not too many were surprised. It was the confirmation that sent them scrambling! 
I don’t know if that was about me, or them, but definitely it was too much!

     And so this Friday afternoon as I walk through the cloudy streets in Denver headed into Friday night PRIDE celebrations I wonder about too queer and it being too much! In the question of too queer it seems more about them than it does about me, after all, I’m just being me.

     Yes, I do have an eye for design and color. I’ve always searched for just the right things to put together, like in clothing-wise and decorating-wise and in every-other-way-wise!

     If not HGTV and the shows on design always (or most of the time) presented by recognizably gay men, I enjoyed the food channel. Could that possibly be a tip-off, in terms of being too gay?

     Yes, I’ve always been on the sensitive side as my mother used to say. Even when I announced to my mom that I was getting married her response was, “Why do you want to get married? There is so much of life for you to experience!” I have an ability to listen to people and to intervene on others behalf as they need me. I sit and cry with them. I’ve always been able to put my arms around someone consoling them in their upset, doubt or grief.

     So, there you have it; my attention to design, my interest in food, the emotional sensitivities and then you add the fact that I’ve never liked sports, and I happened to choose a profession where I worked with women all the time–what else could you expect. Even before I began my career in education when I worked in the factory, I was one of the only stockmen who could keep all of my dyke female machine operators happy!! 

     Certifiably queer! I am just me! 

     The questions and the discomfort around my possibly being too queer really do rest with everyone outside of me and not really with me.  As I exist in that realization, I wonder if the pushback is about their doubt about themselves and the possibility that they are too much, in one way or another. Possibly at some point in their lives they’ve considered a variant sexual experience too! One thing for sure, I’ve certainly gotten their attention, if gaining attention is what the t-shirt slogans and the unique dress (or undress) are all about.

     When considering the question of “too much,” the actual realization is that the quality of being too much exists in the eyes and mind of someone outside of myself and then gets projected back onto me, making me wonder if I am too much!  Those dirty rascals!

     And so I ask you my dearest of friends am I “too queer” or might I just be BEING ME?

About the Author

Donny Kaye-Is a native born Denverite. He has lived his life posing as a hetero-sexual male, while always knowing that his sexual orientation was that of a gay male. In recent years he has confronted the pressures of society that forced him into deep denial regarding his sexuality and an experience of living somewhat of a disintegrated life. “I never forgot for a minute that I was what my childhood friends mocked, what I thought my parents would reject and what my loving God supposedly condemned to limitless suffering.” StoryTime at The Center has been essential to assisting him with not only telling the stories of his childhood, adolescence and adulthood but also to merely recall the stories of his past that were covered with lies and repressed in to the deepest corners of his memory. Within the past two years he has “come out” not only to himself but to his wife of four decades, his three children, their partners and countless extended family and friends. Donny is divorced and yet remains closely connected with his family. He lives in the Capitol Hill Community of Denver, in integrity with himself and in a way that has resulted in an experience of more fully realizing integration within his life experiences. He participates in many functions of the GLBTQ community.