Tag: Michael King

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A Visit to the Doctor and Nurse by Michael King

I think the first time I had a severe swelling reaction was in Duluth in 1964. I woke up one morning and my face was so swollen that I couldn’t open my eyes. After a few hours the swelling subsided enough for me to go to the base medical clinic. No one knew what it was, why it was and nothing was done. The swelling went down and the mystery was unsolved.

I’m not sure how many times I had these swelling occurrences but they were always in a different part of the body.

The last one was the most dramatic. I woke up with a terrible need to urinate, a greater need than at any other time in my life. I was in terrible pain and unable to pee. My wife drove me to the emergency room. I remember the doctor stated that it was unusual for this to happen to someone so young. I was around 37 I think. My urinary track was swollen shut and my bladder was close to bursting. In another hour or so it would have. The doctor thought at first that it was an enlarged prostrate. It wasn’t. I had never had a catheter and felt totally violated as it was being inserted. The nurse appeared in front of me with a bucket and when the tube finally entered the bladder the force of the urine was too much for her bucket. It was knocked out of her hands. She was doused from head to toe and the wall and door across the room was generously sprayed.

I had to use the catheter for some days until the swelling totally subsided. The doctor was concerned that next time it could be my heart or at least a more serious place if and when I would have another swelling episode. He had no idea as to the cause.

As I have done in the past I pulled a Jimmy Carter and sat in a chair in the living room and declared that I wasn’t going to move till I had an answer as to the cause of these swelling episodes. Jimmy Carter did something similar with the Rose Garden during the Iranian hostage crisis. Almost instantly I had an answer. A memory of my ear swelling some years before when I wore a cheap earring popped into my consciousness. It was nickel plated. Therefore I must have an allergy to nickel. My dermatologist said there was no such thing as a metal allergy. I knew better and since then the medical profession acknowledges and treats metal allergies.

I eliminated all aluminum cookware, foil and used only glass, iron and stainless steel cookware, avoided restaurant food (they cook in aluminum almost exclusively). There is often nickel in aluminum products. The amount varies as aluminum is often recycled. I have not had a swelling episode since.

There were many other times I ended up in emergency rooms, but I think seeing that nurse get doused is one of my most vivid memories when it comes to a visit to a doctor and a nurse.

© 24 May 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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Hospitality by Michael King

It seems that hospitality is more a commercial term than the cultured warmth and friendliness that one offers their guests. When I was young, maybe 8 or so, I imagined a world so very different than the one I felt I was stuck with. I wanted to live where there was charm, beauty, elegance, love, grace and happiness. I imagined that the surroundings should be comfortable yet exquisite. I had not been exposed to anything like what I pictured but felt that I didn’t belong where I was which had none of the qualities I felt should exist. I remember thinking that the little town of Nashville, Kansas was ugly and the people including my family were ignorant, crude and had no class. It seemed that somewhere there should be a place that was beautiful. When we moved to Truth or Consequences, New Mexico I had hopes that it might be more attractive and there the people would be more civilized; it wasn’t. I never felt comfortable or trusting in those days. Finally when I went to college I got a few glimpses of the environment that I craved. I also experienced times when those hosting an event created the warmth and comfort and elegance that I came to associate with my definition of hospitality.

Many times over the years I tried to create that feeling when guest attended the many parties we had. I loved having people come over and have an enjoyable time with food and conversation in an attractive and comfortable environment. I tried to make the setting as beautiful as possible. I wanted to make each event as much like my fantasy of my childhood. I wanted to create the hospitality that I felt should exist.

I have experienced on many occasions that kind of unpretentious and sincere hospitality and I have also been where it existed because people pay for it. I really enjoyed the dinners aboard cruise ships. A few times I have attended formal dress up events that were very well done where there was that genuine hospitable environment. Some included weddings, dining at upscale restaurants with friends, holiday parties and a few social events. More often it seems that I have had that feeling at casual parties, pot lucks and outings where either the hosts or the staff obviously enjoys making the situation smooth, comfortable and pleasant.

Finally after almost a lifetime I live in the manner that I so craved when I was little and I am around people who are warm and sincere as well as relaxed being who they are and are at home both giving and receiving hospitality. I experience an acceptance and feel more at home in my relatively newer gay environment than I did in the straight world. My world has more beauty and elegance, warmth and friendliness, happiness and joy, love and kindness, peace and comfort and hospitality than I could have imagined when I was 8 or so or even at 68 or so, And if I won the lottery I could throw a few parties where I could pay professionals to help create some of my fantasies and I could travel where hospitality is included in the package, etc., etc., etc. In the meantime I’m just happy to be living the life I have where everything is perfect.

July 28, 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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Coming Out Spiritually by Michael King

As I reflect on this topic it seems to mirror in many ways the slow and meandering journey of discovering the gay part of me and eventually becoming a gay activist.

I didn’t understand the differences between religious, spiritual, etc. I now have my own definitions however prefer to avoid the various terms. People state that they are non-denominational, new age, protestant, Buddhist, Hindu, Jewish, and the list goes on.

I’ve not felt comfortable with any of those labels. Faiths, creeds and rituals may be a part of being religious but I don’t think of them as being spiritual. There are, I am sure, those who are very much in touch spiritually and still participate in religious practices.

My family seldom attended church or even mentioned anything religious and fortunately left the whole arena fairly free of doctrines, duties, biblical teachings, fear, or guilt. I was grown and away from home by the time I encountered a vague concept of the term spiritual.

I did have an experience, the first of many, that has affected my perspective that I will call spiritual. I had the same name as my grandfather. I have since change my name. The family was present and I stood back by the door when he took his last breath. I was 15 and as far as I know no one else saw what I did. I was very calm and detatched. I had a sense that everything was OK. He and I seemed to have an understanding. I was an observer, and at the same time as I heard the death rattle, a shiny golden orb jumped from his head, wavered, and then quickly departed through the wall behind and to the side of the bed. I had the assurance that some kind of future followed this life.

I tried to identify with many belief systems over the years but couldn’t accept any until after the transforming experience I had when I made the decision to divorce my first wife and remove the children from their mother’s influence. I clearly stated to her, “I don’t give a shit about you or about myself. I’m going to do what is best for the children!” An experience of being in the future in the presence of what I have called a being of light and pure love followed. I’ll not go into further detail but my life changed forever.

I looked for information about my vision as that is what I think it was. I read and studied, attended lectures and workshops, read the Bible from cover to cover and most if not all the writings that were not included in the versions most often accepted. I explored eastern teachings, metaphysical writings and any other potential source hoping to find a better understanding of my experience.

I’ve since forgotten most of what all I studied because I didn’t find the answers I was looking for until one day after we moved to Denver. I was on my way to a bookstore to purchase some books that might have some answers when a voice directed me to buy a particular book. I recognized the voice but that’s another story.

I will say that I not only got the answers to the questions but I also received an expanded perspective far beyond anything I might have imagined. Experientially I am gaining in an understanding and have progressed in some levels of maturity.

When did I come out? That is probably the part that is most humorous. Every time I had an insight or learned something that I thought was profound I tried to share it with those around me. Mistake!!! No one was interested. Everyone has found what they want or have a prescribed approach they plan to take to get their answers. I came out so many times and was ignored just like when I came out gay. Everyone already knew it and some told me they were waiting for me to figure it out.

Among the blessings I have are the love I have from my family and close friends and some that aren’t so close, my rich inner life and the many insights, visions and personal revelations that have formed my present self. I have great appreciation for these blessings.

So long as there is consciousness, expanded awarenesses and new expressions of a spiritual nature can continue to enrichen our lives. I don’t think that coming out spiritually will ever stop.

July 1, 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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Facts by Michael King


I am more aware of my memory than when I was younger. I have become increasingly conscious of how the things remembered are isolated pieces of time, interaction, momentous events, strong emotions and other seemingly significant events in my past. Sometimes I will recall something of no particular importance with any particular feeling attached. It is from this awareness that I approach the topic for Monday, “Facts.”


It is my understanding that in a trial there may be numerous witnesses that observed a crime. Without coordination they may tell very different stories about the event. There is no reason to question their honesty, but what are the facts? Facts seem to be an elusive kind of reasonable makes-sense explanation regarding any given situation. It seems the mind will interpret experience in a way that seems plausible. If that is the case then facts are something that seems to be the most probable rather than the actual reality.


In “Telling my Story” I am usually aware that my memories are the perceptions that I now have of people and events in contrast to how I might have perceived those memories 25 years ago, 50 years ago, 70 years ago or even yesterday. What are the facts? Usually the date, the people, the place and the event are factual. Then are the particulars as to the surroundings. And becoming more vague would be the probable small details if recalled at all and then in the interpretation of the facts are the more distortive emotions and feelings. All these factors contribute to the probable facts related to any situation.


It amazes me that there are people that will respond to a question with the word “absolutely.” Either they are conning someone, trying to sell something or are unaware of how ludicrous their comment is. I’m convinced that being factual is not very important to some people and not particularly expected. There are many examples where people aren’t even aware of their distortions or perhaps don’t care if there is accuracy in either their thoughts or comments.


My conclusion is that to be factual is variable to the persons, events, memories, observations and philosophies. Perhaps more factual would be scientific evidence. Even then there is much room for interpretation. That is a fact.


Now, after that disclaimer, I’ll share a few facts about me. I am a 73 year old male humanoid mortal living on my planet of nativity. I was twice wed and divorced, fathered four children and am the grandfather of two men and a woman and two very young granddaughters. I live in Denver, Colorado with my partner Merlyn. I am an active openly gay eccentric who wears ear bobs, sports tattoos and piercings and has fairly colorful wardrobe. I paint and do sculpture, write stories for “Story Time,” help set up for the Prime Timers’ “Nooners,” volunteer at the GLBT Center, go antiquing and visit thrift stores, cook, eat, drink vodka, go to plays, stage performances, ballet and opera, exercise at the Y, walk, ride the bus and Merlyn’s Suburban, watch movies, porn and TV, talk to my family and sometimes get together with them, And then there are those other facts that shall go unsaid.

© 23 March 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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Memorials by Michael King

My first memory of a memorial was when I was four or five. In rural Kansas there would be a fenced area with trees on the side if the road surrounded by wheat fields. Sometimes headstones could be seen. The one I remember was overgrown with tall grass and weeds when we arrived on Memorial Day.

It was the custom for families of those buried there to come, clean away the weeds, cut the grass and place flowers from their flower gardens on the graves of their relatives.

It was a beautiful day and I was unhappy to have to stay in the car while my parents and older sister were outside working on making the graves nice and neat. The reason I had to stay in the car other than insuring that I stayed out of the way was that I had asthma and my parents tried to avoid anything that might cause an attack. I’m sure that included an excuse to prevent me from running around like a normal boy of my age. I felt fine.

I looked out and noticed a child’s grave next to the car. It was a much smaller area covered with tall grasses and weeds. Since no one was there to properly groom the area I felt sorry that no one cared and wanted to do something about this sad situation.

I lowered the car window and got my sister’s attention, explained my concern, and convinced her to trim the grass. She got a sickle and was busy swinging it back and forth cutting the grass when I managed to open the car door and got out to watch. I got too close and on a back swing the sickle caught the skin along my eyebrows and tore it to about the center of my scalp.

Dr. Whalan in our little town had reattached my thumb when my father cut it off when I was two. I had stuck my hand out to touch the pretty blade he was potting in the mowing machine. Dr. Whalan later treated me when I was bitten by a spider and was in a coma for days. Now after I got scalped he gently worked the scalp and forehead skin back in place and told my parents that it would heal with less scaring without stitches. He was very skillful in that regard and over the years treated numerous face wounds that would have left me with some horrible scars. Most of the scars I have hardly show for which I can thank the country doctor.

After that first experience having to do with Memorials and Memorial Days I recall many: the poppies representing Flanders’ Field, many funerals, watching the laying of wreaths, standing by friends as they watched their loved ones being placed in a crypt or in the ground, and more recently when funerals have become celebrations of the lives of our friends.

The following is what I read at Bobby Gates Memorial celebration.

After I retired I found myself with no particular activities, no friends, as most were from work or lived far away, and I didn’t even have a plan or a direction. I attended the PrideFest and was given a card about the Prime Timers luncheon. I went and began my first association with a gay community. Bobby was the president of Prime Timers. Among the many things that he sponsored was the “Coffee Tyme” at Panera’s. Soon we became friends and when Bobby found out that I was almost totally un-knowledgeable in practically everything, he became my mentor. Of course at the time I wasn’t that aware, but looking back practically everything I found out, every activity I got involved in and most everyone I met had a connection to Bobby. I think he had been that way with many, many others. He organized activities, coordinated events and invited participation and friendship, thoughtfully sent birthday cards, etc., etc.

For me he introduced me to many restaurants, always surprised that I had never been to any of them. He introduced me to Front Rangers. He introduced me to movies. He was one in the coffee group that introduced me to the Denver Church and Jim Chandler. And he introduced me to my partner, Merlyn. Often he’d call me about an activity and asked if I needed a ride. I can’t imagine how my life would have been without Bobby.

I honor one of the most compassionate, thoughtful, and generous friends anyone could ever have. I feel that I have truly been blessed by his friendship, his kindness, his nurturing, and the love that he bestowed on everyone.

Even though Bobby didn’t have financial wealth, a couple of weeks ago Bobby’s son Marc and I were talking about how rich Bobby was in friendships, activities, experiences, and attitude.

I expect that we’ll meet again and that our friendship will continue. In the meantime I will continue to be thankful for the many ways he touched my life and continues to be an inspiration and an influence

I give thanks for Bobby

© 28 January 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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The Wisdom of LGBT Identity by Michael King

Wisdom seems so often be something we notice when we look back on where we’ve been and compare it with where we are now. For me it now seems that had I made different choices earlier in my life I would have taken different paths and would have lived a very different life. Where I find myself now is probably in the best place I could be. And short of winning the lottery and having lots of money I could ask for nothing more than the life that I now live.

I have it all, a loving and totally accepting family, the most kind and loving companion and lover, opportunities to write, paint, travel, cook and explore the antique and junk shops. My health is good. I have many wonderful friends and am constantly involved in activities. I have peace of mind and feel blessed. I am thankful.

As my life unfolded I guess that I was always moving closer to having a gay identity, however I felt there was no need to identify myself as gay until I actually had a gay lover. If someone had come into my life earlier that I loved, I’m sure that I would have told the whole world. I had experiences with both men and women and decided that it was the person, not the plumbing that mattered. I just didn’t meet anyone with whom we had a mutual loving relationship until I was seventy.

When I finally had my first boyfriend, he was introduced to my family and I let everyone I saw know that I was in love. Our relationship lasted all of two months. I was still glad that I was identifying as a gay man and even though my relationship with Sheldon didn’t work out, I gained so much from the experience.

My youngest daughter describes the way I live my life as authentic. I am now in the best place that I’ve ever been and I see the wisdom of being the best me that I can be which finally includes being a flaming queen, free to be me in any way that feels right knowing how much I am blessed.

In reflection, the path that I rather blindly followed was probably the wisest. Everything came together as I matured step by step. I was following my path not knowing where it would lead. I tried to sincerely live each day as honestly and as well as I knew how. I felt I was getting direction and guidance although it often seemed to take a long, long time.

Perhaps the key to wisdom is to look inside, follow that gut feeling and trust that eventually everything will work out and come together while growing and watching the almost magic of life unfold.

I feel closer to the truth, the goodness and the love that comes from the inner awareness of my connectedness with being on an adventure into eternity. And now as a gay guy who is so happy to be me.

© 3 December 2012




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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Getting Caught by Michael King

Somehow to write a story such as the one I’m about to write requires getting past the taboos that have haunted me my whole life and so I hope that I can finally be free. Being free means to me at this point in my life that I don’t give a ____ what anyone thinks about me. However that isn’t totally true. I still want to have acceptance, but I also don’t want to have to secretly pretend that I’m sugar and spice when I’m really an animal with passions, desires and have had some experiences that are perhaps not for prudes to hear about. I’m feeling braver already so here goes the story about getting caught. Maybe others have had secret desires that were unfulfilled. Well I have had many.

I didn’t have a language for it at the time, but by now have learned a little of the language used to describe one of my magnificent and wonderfully memorable experiences in a tea room.

I saw the young man as he entered the John a little before me. I really didn’t think about what might happen as, other that noticing him and seeing that he had a little budge hanging over his belt that was unusual for someone his age, my purpose was to use the facilities.

I was in fact using the facilities. As I stood there facing the wall and relieving myself I became aware that the young man was not doing the same. I proceeded to finish what I had come there for and glanced toward him when he surprised me by coming over by me and dropped to his knees.

As I said it was a magnificent and wonderfully memorable experience that compares with a few others that left an indelible impression on both my memory, but also on the fantasy world that many years later allowed me to be an out and open gay guy.

As the experience of being beyond time and space in an indescribable ecstasy subsided the only thing I could think of was to reciprocate. I don’t think I had any idea how to accomplish anything close to my experience. I hadn’t learned the skills or techniques but was certainly willing to give it a try.

There was no one around and just as I was about to begin the tearoom door opened. We both jumped and pretended to be using the facilities. I’m sure the security guard didn’t really see anything but probably couldn’t help but know that something had been going on.

We were caught, told to leave and never return. We left the mall and he went to his car. I started to walk home without the courage to introduce myself or make contact, something I still regret.

It was much later that I had the opportunity to share in similar experiences because I had neither the nerve nor the awareness of what I now remember as missed opportunities. I was so filled with hang-ups, misplaced feelings of guilt and was terribly naïve.

I’ve come a long way, baby! I am finally almost at peace with being the me that I am. I can accept, that I am sexual and sensitive and have urges and desire that are natural. I haven’t been to a tea room in years and am obviously openly gay. My children not only accept me as I am, but are pleased that I am in a loving and caring relationship. I think that the time I got caught was one of many things that had led me to the peace of mind and the pride I feel about being, as my daughter says, authentic.

Denver, 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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One Monday Afternoon by Michael King

Almost every Monday afternoon I go to the GLBT Center for the “Telling Your Story” activity. There are from twelve to eighteen men and women who write or tell a story based on a topic. The topics may be very unusual or fairly mundane. I have been involved now for about three and a half years and have found that this program has been for me very therapeutic. When I first started attending it didn’t seem to make a difference what the topic was, some past suppressed painful memory would come to mind and It would be all I could do not to choke up and break down in front of the group. Most were of almost forgotten childhood traumas that I hadn’t thought about for 60 or more years. I wasn’t aware that I had so much baggage but afterwards I felt a relief and a freedom. This process continued for a couple of years but seldom occurs now.

Now I am challenged to write whatever comes to mind without preplanning and I just let the story unfold. I’m getting to know myself more each week and sometimes have fun just being silly with the story. Other times I am exposing myself in ways I wouldn’t have even weeks ago. I’m seldom concerned what other people think which could never have been the case up until a couple of years ago.

There have been Mondays that I recall the dynamics of the group when someone’s story particularly stood out. Cecil’s stories often are very captivating as are numerous others. I think that Cecil with his accent and Donald with his shy approach, Ray’s theatrical voice, numerous others with wit and humor along with the incredible variety that always happens every week makes for one of the best programs I have ever experienced.

For me one Monday afternoon stands out more than all the others. I wrote about an experience that had occurred during the week before. I was told later that stories shouldn’t have a surprise ending. The story was particularly emotional and personal. The topic for that week was “The Interview.” I wrote it in July and later submitted it for the blog. It was put on the blog on November 7th. I have reread it several times and not only do I still get choked up, but I also think it’s the best story I have written. I can still feel the electricity (for lack of a better term) that went through my body and soul as well as the effect on the others in the room when I read the last sentence one Monday afternoon.

Denver, March 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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Details by Michael King

Last night we were on our way to a party. On the way we wanted to go to a hardware store to pick up several items. When we looked up the address I thought it was only a few blocks from the Home Depot on Colorado Boulevard.

Leaving the parking lot, I told Merlyn to turn left. He couldn’t understand why when he knew that we needed to go north, not south. When he mentioned Colfax, I asked what Colfax had to do with anything? He said that where we are supposed to go would be only a couple of blocks off Colfax. I realized that I was thinking the address was on South Madison. It never dawned on me that we were over two miles south of our destination because I was only familiar with Madison Street near where I used to work and didn’t consider that it runs all the way through the Denver Metro area far south and far north.

This is an example of not paying attention to the details. We didn’t need to have gone the five or so miles extra just to get things from a hardware store. Merlyn thinks I know what I’m doing and sometimes I blow it. On the other hand sometimes I let him know that he needs to go right rather than left or vice-versa. It works out eventually and neither of us gets overly excited as we accept each other’s occasional imperfections and we let tolerance take over.

To begin to list all the times I don’t pay attention to details would totally destroy the image of always being perfect in my wonderful world of rose colored glasses and fuchsia accents. On the other hand I do get to give little touches of fun and perhaps a little uplift when I add a few details to enhance a plate of food, a conversation or maybe the way I give someone a special hug.

The details can give each day a little more meaning and joy, or if we let them a little disappointment. I try to avoid the latter. So I can now be the silly person that I sometimes like to be. The question is; are the details dehead, delegs. debelly, dearms, defingers or detoes the ones that are debest?

© 9 December 2012

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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Multi Racial by Michael King

Diversity is the characteristic of life. This is true of humanoids as well as all other life forms. Creatures that are similar tend to group themselves and are often defensive or even hostile toward beings that are different. The early humans dating back a million years seldom came into contact with the various subhuman groups that hadn’t developed the brain capacity to express wisdom and forethought and eventually became extinct. It is the focalized bones of these subhumans that have been found and incorrectly labeled as ancestors. Present day humans are in the ape family as were the various groups of unrelated subhumans.

The true humans continued slowly to evolve for about five hundred thousand years when the racial diversity occurred. There were the primary colored races, red yellow and blue and the secondary colored races, orange green and indigo. When the colored races mated with the precolored peoples the dominant genetic makeup of the colored parent was always passed on to the children. Only one group of the precolored peoples still exists as the Eskimos of northwestern North America.

The natural animosity toward beings who are different kept the racial groups somewhat separated and often in conflict when small bands encountered each other. Intermixing was rare but did occur. The half-breeds were usually discriminated against as were the captive slaves from warring groups. Trade brought together dissimilar peoples more peaceably and when the differing humans were in close contact interbreeding occurred more frequently.

Over the last five hundred thousand years the green and orange races were wiped out or to a minor extent absorbed into the more blended groups. The indigo race for the most part became isolated in sub-Saharan Africa but in northern Africa and around the Mediterranean there has been much intermixing of most of the colored races

The red race settled in northeast Asia until somewhat displaced be the yellow race, although many remained in what is now Mongolia. The Japanese is a blend of red and yellow and some of the red peoples migrated to North America. Most of the blue peoples settled Europe with considerable blending. Around thirty eight thousand years ago the violet race emerged and became blended with all but the red peoples of the Americas and the Indigo peoples of sub-Saharan Africa with the majority in northern Europe.

There are mostly multiracial peoples now on the planet and the blending of races is increasing at a rapid rate. Differences in skin color still bring about conflict when ignorance, prejudice and hatred is taught to children who pass it on to succeeding generations. In recent history there have been many examples of ethnic cleansing, vicious slaughtering and gross mistreatment of fellow humans. Greed, power and prejudice pathetically have not diminished.

I am probably as multiracial as anyone however since my more immediate ancestors came from Europe the mix of red, yellow, blue, violet and possibly orange and green mixed with the precolored peoples is also the multiracial blend of most European peoples and a large percentage of immigrants in North America. New DNA testing is showing that besides the red race there are traces of most of the colored races in the indigenous peoples of South America precluding the arrival of the Spanish five hundred years ago. The Cherokee have some of the same DNA as the Hebrews and the Incas contain DNA similar to northeast Asians. Only a small percent of DNA can be presently understood. We will have a much clearer perspective when the other ninety some percent can be analyzed and so much erroneous theories can be corrected. Most of my encounters with follow humans have been cordial and I have had warm friendships with the individuals from most racial and ethnic groups. It has been a joy to travel and in the process connect with people from a different culture and racial blend.

It is my hope and the hope of most people that we can learn to accept, respect and enjoy one another. No matter how diverse we appear we all share some of the same ancestry and exist on the same planet where we can still become ecologically kind and appreciate the magnificence of all existence.

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.