Chasing the Rainbow - One Man's Tale of Coming Out After Fifty

Author remeniscing his earlier days chasing the rainbow.

Orange Dawn: All Signs Point to Key West

The ship I’ve sailed on is gone. With it, went everything I owned. The framework of my life and all that had defined me has been shattered. Among the wreckage is a dismembered marriage, five sons who don’t know their father, and a family that’s torn asunder. I begin to reflect over what has happened and ponder the events that brought me to this place and time.

Both as a son and as a father, I’d been conditioned to ignore my needs and desires and focus only on those of others. I sold out my personal dreams while yet a boy. While I’d hoped to live a creative lifestyle, I let others choose for me a technical career. And I was damn good at it! My world became built upon the drab greens, browns, grays, and black that others dictated. It took a shipwreck to make me realize that I had been sailing the wrong vessel and course all along.

I’m in a traffic jam behind a car with a bumper sticker that reads: “You are a good person…HEALING THROUGH ART.” Sometimes the universe provides signposts in the most familiar places – you just must notice. I decided at once to reclaim my self-identity through art!

On the way home I stop by the college and sign up for drawing classes. I completed the decision by going to an art store to buy art supplies. Like a kid in a candy store, I grab for what looks good, what feels good, what smells good!

I get much more than art supplies while there. A card with a beautiful print catches my eye. I’m told it’s from a local coffeehouse – 49 West Coffeehouse, Wine bar, and Gallery - a great place to hang out and meet other artsy folks. It soon becomes my second home. Unknown to me, the Tsunami Sushi bar next door will soon play a key role in charting my new course - coincidence or fate? With just small steps taken in this new direction, all the colors of the rainbow begin flooding into my life for the first time. I suddenly feel like a chameleon finding itself in a box of crayons! What do I do next?

All caught up in this swirling current of colors, I decided to visit my artist sister Liz back home on Long Island. After all, who can better appreciate my excitement? While driving together, Liz listens with unnatural patience as my conversation bounces back and forth from shipwreck to creative reawakening. She eventually interrupts with, “Bub, you know what you need to do? You need to break down the walls and do something totally different. Like, find yourself some cute gay boy and take him in your Volkswagen bus to Key West, and have yourself some fun.”

Key West? Some cute gay boy? I’m shocked and speechless – not over the suggestion, but by her sharp-edged accuracy! How could she know? It’s been such a well-kept secret that I’d even hidden it from myself. The time has come to set myself free – free to dream a whole new set of dreams. I want so much to break the long, uncomfortable silence and reveal a truth that I’ve masked over and denied a lifetime. I want so desperately to tell her about Geoffrey!

As I think about her comments, a full moon floats slowly through a moving sea of clouds. To the east, a pale yellow and gray band appears where the black of earth meets the cobalt blue of sky – a welcome sign of an approaching dawn. The morning sun crawls out of the ground and makes its way through the trees to the sky. The world sees a new day begin. For me, the warm, orange dawn marks the beginning to a whole new and exciting journey.

Letters in a Bottle

Geoffrey – It’s indescribable how you touch me so deeply in so many wonderful ways…how alive you make me feel! You give life purpose and intensity. For the first time ever I know what it means to truly love another. I’d give up everything for the joy of being with you! You push all my buttons – and some I never knew I had! We have the makings of something beautiful and timeless – as love and things of the spirit tend to be just that – timeless. And, when compared against eternity, the question of age becomes so insignificant.

In the middle of getting rid of everything tied to the past, I see an angel walking toward my door. “Hi, I’m Geoff!” the angel says extending out his hand. “I’m here to see about the TV!” At the touch of his hand, a wave of energy shoots through my body! The chemistry is instant and powerful – the likes of which I had never known. He’s gay, but not out. Me? Uh, straight? But beginning to bend at an exponential rate! Though he doesn’t leave with the TV, he leaves with my heart.

Geoff goes off to college. I move into a small apartment after the divorce and enter a period of seclusion. It becomes my tiny island of solace, a protective cocoon housing a very confused and disoriented caterpillar. From the island I send Geoff messages in a bottle – hundreds of emails. Having the most awesome crush on him forces me to re-think my whole life. Suddenly, I have the mirror I’ve needed all along to see myself clearly (queerly) for the first time.

His enthusiasm and love for music and art are infectious, and soon I catch a major dose of it. He loves the Beatles. I have the painting I did of the Beatles professionally framed and proudly hung it over the stereo system. Neither could have been justified in my former home. Oh blah di, oh blah da…let the music AND life begin…and crank up the volume!

Plants! I must have plants – lots of tropical plants! I begin to fill the corners, hall, and any open spaces in my tiny island with them. Before long, my place resembled a rain forest! Color! I must have lots of color! The bathroom gets a see-through shower curtain with colorful tropical fish and color-coordinated candles. Every room gets candles and amber – lots of candles and amber. Why? Well, if it’s going to look tropical, it’s got to FEEL tropical.

I remember a book given to me long ago that I had cast aside: Rediscovering Your Creativity by Julia Cameron. I hunt it down, dust it off, and make it my bible for the next six months. I exercise, eat, and sleep right. I religiously do the creativity exercises. I discipline myself to rise before dawn and write. I began losing weight and started feeling and looking better. My energy level skyrockets.

Soon, I find my hunger growing to write, draw, and paint without letting up! I lost 60 pounds and went from size 44 jeans down to 32! I’m driven by desire – desire to look hot when Geoff and I go to the U2 concert – desire to be fit and fabulous for the trip to Key West.

A butterfly emerges from its cocoon. Gently unfurling, it reveals its iridescent colors in the afternoon sun. Looking at the world through new eyes, it ponders a direction. It’s so ready to try out those new wings. Hmmm…which way to go?

`Geoffrey – I love the way you make me love music, art, and life…the way you inspire

me to think, act, and create! Life with you motivates, thrills, and brings joy to my heart!

For all this, I thank God, your parents, and you! God, for giving you a kind, loving spirit.

Your parents, for bringing a beautiful son into the world. And you, for being a Geoffrey

when I needed a Geoffrey most.’

Catching the Wave at Tsunami

He’s absolutely beautiful! I fell abruptly silent before the group gathered

on the Coffeehouse patio as an Adonis with blond highlights saunters by.

A wave of his cologne comes crashing over me. All that, and the rhythmic

sway of his perfectly shaped butt violently rocks the earth beneath me.

What’s happening to me? I used to be so discreet! I fail miserably in front of the “Dead Poet’s Society” in my act to appear nonchalant. Where in heaven’s name did, HE come from? More importantly, where on earth is he going?

A week later, almost to the minute, not only he, but another young god parades through, disappearing indoors. Without thinking, I jump up and follow them exit the front door. Alex, a group member, follows along and says looking over my shoulder, “Oh, yeah. It’s Wednesday night.” As we both watch the pair enter the Tsunami Sushi restaurant next door, he adds, “Out in Annapolis meets there. We need to talk?”

I’m ecstatic to discover that a seventeen-to-infinity gay support group is alive and well right in homophobic, ultra-conservative Annapolis, Maryland! I can’t believe that it was there all along and right next door to my coffeehouse patio! Nothing in the world can stop me from attending their next meeting. It's finally coming out time for me.

Next Wednesday comes quickly. I primp and don me now my gay apparel. I light candles, put music on loud, and have a few cocktails top loosen up a bit. The meeting time rolls around. Time passes. The music plays. The candles burn down and with them my nerve. After a while, too lit to drive, I blow out the candles and grudgingly go to bed.

The next week, I repeat the ritual – only this time I make it to the car. I struggle over whether I’m ready to come out even to other gays. God! I mean, I have no idea who might be there…who might see me going in…how to act once there! I started the car. I think some more and shut the engine off. I laugh out loud at myself and start the car again. I shut it off. It’s getting late. The neighbors must think I’m nuts! I go back inside and pour a big stiff one. Sitting in the dark, I begin to believe that I’m destined to live a cold, loveless life of solitude. How can I play the game when I can’t even seem to show up?

Well, third time’s the charm, right? Not only do I get into the water on my third attempt, but I also actually work up the courage to boldly paddle where I’ve never paddled before! I plunge ahead vigorously and head out to catch that big wave, ride it, and get on with life!

After taking a few deep breaths and checking several times to see if the coast is clear, I cross the great divide of Main Street and find myself standing inside at the Tsunami. Within moments I’m introduced to Ed, who soon deservedly earns himself the title of cruise director of Love Boat Tsunami. Ed immediately senses my discomfort and quickly puts me at ease. He shares how he was in my shoes only seven years earlier and knows exactly what I’m going through.

He knows? Hell, everyone in the place knows! Before long, the sea of handshakes and hugs squeezed every bit of anxiety out of me. Never have I belonged anywhere on this planet more than right here. I finally found my people – young and beautiful, old and sweet, and everything in between. Placing his arm around my shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze, Ed, the gay brother I never had and always needed, spoke two words that I had been waiting a lifetime to hear --”Welcome home.”

Today, I caught the “big one!” No more paddling for me – it’s time to just hold on tight. I’m riding high upon a Tsunami and it’s about to sweep me far out to sea. I can hardly wait to discover the new and distant shores to which I’m being carried!

Riding High and Fast. Land Ho!

“There’s a time in my life that’s missing. It’s the time that I

spend alone sailing on the cool and bright clear waters…”

It’s enormous! And I’m riding it for everything I’m worth! The sense of exhilaration atop this great wave is indescribable! It’s driving force builds with each Wednesday visit to the Tsunami Sushi bar. Swept out onto a whole new sea of uncharted waters, I feel pressured to learn quickly how to best navigate them. It’s nothing less than intimidating to be surrounded by such seasoned seaman, young and old, with so many years at the helm of “gaydom.” I observe them all and take lots of mental notes.

I slowly began to grow more comfortable and confident. Wanting desperately to meet and to get to know others, I decided on my second visit not to stand in the shadows, but with liquid courage in hand, begin working the crowd. I go first to those I wish to meet most –the table surrounded with the young and gorgeous.

“Hi. I’m Greg, the Encino Man. I’ve been frozen since prehistoric times and just came out.” It’s corny as hell, I know, but turns out to be a great icebreaker. I get a very warm welcome that only grows warmer over time with that bunch.

Proud of my accomplishment, I next approach a middle-aged group with the same icebreaker. Instead of a warm welcome, the temperature in the room drops to absolute zero.

“I can’t believe you went over to those twinks and started talking just like that!” one says. Twinks? What’s a twink? They all want to know what I said for them to invite me to join their table.

“You know,” I come back with, “just the usual young guy stuff.” Continuing, I’m interrupted by, “Maybe you should come back once you’ve grown up.” “I never intend to grow up,” I reply. “I’m like Peter Pan. Only, I’ve recently discovered that I’m more into Peter than Pan.”

Their criticisms make me think I’ve broken some cardinal rule of gay protocol. Finding myself on this new planet, I’m still learning to walk in this gravity and breathe in this atmosphere. Taking a closer look, I notice the polarization – each grouped according to his own kind – young and beautiful – middle-aged – the infinites.

“Why those walls?” I wonder. I didn’t see them at first. I don’t wish to see them now. I politely walk away and go over to introduce myself to a couple of infinites. “Hi. I’m Greg.” I start off. “Are you familiar with the Encino Man?” Looking puzzled, they both reply, “Huh?” Never mind. As we chat, I find that they cannot say anything without touching me. It’s quite okay. They’re sweet and have nothing but cordial things to say about me, and, why not? To them, I guess, I’m a twink.

Despite the awkward moments, I keep coming back week after week to continue my trial-by-fire education. Each visit I learn something new and the wave rises higher! Before long, I understand the distinction between boyfriend, lover, and husband, bear and smooth, treasure trail, and my very favorite: twink. Casting aside my knowledge of physics and engineering, positive and negative now take on a whole new meaning. Instead of giving the dumb look when asked, I now have an answer to the question “Top or bottom?”  The higher the wave becomes, the better I’m able to see which end is up.

Riding high and fast, I sense the full power of this swell beneath me. The winds of change feel cool upon my face. Yes, I’ve grown these past eighteen months –from birth to “young” adulthood. Looking toward the horizon, I catch a glimpse of what appears to be a tropical island. Land ho! It looks exactly as pictured in the brochures I had gotten for what I hoped would be a trip for two to Key West.

"…It’s kind of a special feeling, when you’re out on the sea alone,

howling at the full moon like a lover…Time for a cool change…I know

that it’s time for a cool, cool change.”   - The Little River Band

At Long Last – Paradise

“I have a dream, a fantasy, to help me through reality. And my

destination makes it worth the while, pushing through the darkness,

still another mile.”

I can’t believe it’s over. The vacation in Key West flies by too quickly, leaving only a taste of new possibilities and I’m so hungry for more! We drive for hours in silence – a period of mourning – as we make the long journey to Annapolis.

Having experienced the fantasy of Key West, I no longer like my mundane reality -- in fact, I hate it. I can’t imagine going back. Why go back? I won’t go back! As we continue side-by-side in dead silence, thoughts of a whole new life begin to form.

We’re in Georgia before the silence breaks. Ed asks for my thoughts, opening a floodgate of words – words that even surprise me as I hear them! In the Carolinas, I sort through what I’m selling and what I’m getting rid of. Through Virginia, I narrowed the list of essentials to what will fit in my VW bus. By Maryland I finalize my route to Key West. At Ed’s place, I transfer my things to my bus. We stood outside his home in shock. We exchange hugs of condolence. I head home – home for just a short while longer.

I clear my apartment in Annapolis and arrive at the “animal house” – the apartment of my boys at Salisbury University. I staged my exodus to the tropics from there. I realize that I have a lot longer distance to go then just road miles. We’ve been together through thick and thin. How can I think of leaving them, especially when it’s only been a year since their mother left.

While driving with youngest son, Stephen, he says, “You need a muse.” I ask him to explain. “You know,” he says, “Something or someone to inspire you…to inspire your creativity.” I reply, “Someone? Male or female?” He says, “Whatever it takes for you, dad.” Out of the mouths of babes!

Stephen hits the nail right on the head. That’s why Key West is so important to me. There I’m not Dad. There I’m free to be me. It’s there that I hope to find someone to fire my passion for writing, art, and life. To my boys I write the Letter from Krypton:

“Over the course of your lives you’ve come to think of me as the invincible Superdad. Recently, I requested that you relate to me by my lesser persona – Greg Kent. Even the “real” Superman sought time away at his Ice Fortress. Though my identity may change from time to time, I’ll always be Dad. From that, I have never left. I will never leave!”

I set out on an aggressive campaign to locate a travel buddy to take the road trip to paradise with me. I sent out hundreds of invitations and in a matter of weeks, had a list of gorgeous gay college boys biting at the bit for a chance at a free trip to 33040.

The bubble bursts when son Andrew undergoes a delicate heart procedure, after which he needs a ride back to Georgia. He’s thrilled over the coincidence of my trip. So, instead of a “promising” travel partner, I head to Florida with my son. Now, I’m Dad. There will come a time to live fantasy.

From Georgia to Stock Island, I have time to reflect, to prepare, to anticipate. I’m finally back! I crossed Cow Key Channel to Key West and to a whole new life. I will write. I will paint. I will find MY muse. I will live my dream!

“I have a dream, a song to sing, to help me cope with anything. If you see

the wonder of the fairytale, you can take the future, even if you fail. I

believe in angels, something good in everything I see…when I know the

time is right for me, I’ll cross the stream – I have a dream.”  - Abba

There Are Snakes in Paradise

Walking one wintry morning, a woman happens upon a half-frozen snake. She lifts

and gently presses the helpless creature to her breasts. Once warmed, the serpent

bites her, injecting its deadly venom. “Why?!” the woman exclaims, “You were

surely going to die and I helped you live!”  “Oh, foolish woman,“ the serpent

replies, “you KNEW I was a snake when you picked me up!”

“Please, God!” I pray as I arrive in Key West, “Let him be young, gorgeous, intelligent, witty, and wildly creative!”  I traveled many miles and a greater distance within myself to reach this place. Here I hope to find the treasure of a lifetime – that special someone…a muse…my soul mate! I begin my search by counting on Jim’s or God’s help-- whichever came first.

Back in Maryland, while ridding the remnants of a former life and gearing up for the journey to Nirvana, Jim emailed me daily sharing hot and steamy tales of his almost daily conquests -- tales of boys more plentiful than coconuts and ripe for the picking! I just knew I wouldn’t be disappointed once I reached the end of the rainbow. Or, would I?

Once settled in, Jim takes me under wing as his “fledgling chicken hawk.” My first lesson: loosen up. To accelerate this process, I met the first of many island snakes -- Smirnoff. I drink its venom in increasing doses. I soon welcome this poison over food. Food? What’s that? Who needs it? I have two cases of Merlot! We share many “Merlot moments” as Jim schools me in island living and the art of picking up young men. The cases of wine empty quickly as I learn what it means to become laid back and skilled as a chicken hawk.

My island professor sends me Keith as a sort of lab rat to compliment his lectures. He insists he’s straight, but like most, I’m told, swings gay for pay. He’s gorgeous, but heavily medicated, and two weeks this side of a failed suicide. What kind of person could accept sex from such a fellow in exchange for kindness? Answer: NOT me! Once Keith feels better, I send him on his way.

Krin owns only the tattered clothes on his back, a battered guitar, and a frayed portfolio of artwork. He’s gaunt. It starts to rain, so I offer him food and a dry place to spend the night. While we eat, Desi, who seemed so nice at first, appears uninvited, high on drugs, pinging off the walls and making irrational demands. In the confusion Desi walks off with jewelry that I will never see again.

Krin demands nothing and appreciates everything. After showering, he sleeps like a baby while I wash his clothes. After breakfast I send him off with a little cash. (Some snakes are harmless.) What AM I doing?! I didn’t come here to be a social worker! I realize that this generosity must stop before I go totally broke -- financially AND emotionally.

Jason approaches me by expressing a sincere interest in getting to know me. However, after introducing him to a friend of substantial means, Jason’s romantic heart and cute little ass don’t hesitate to follow the flow of money. The snakes didn’t end with Jason but diminished in number as I began to acquire more island survival skills.

Despite Jim’s well-intentioned training, I discover that I’m not cut out to be either a chicken hawk or another island snake. There are already too many serpents preying upon the youth arriving with little more than dreams in their pockets. Yes, I seem to have no problem finding snakes in paradise, but where’s the treasure? After six months of searching, I feel no closer now to discovering what I seek than when I first arrived. Okay, I’ve tried Jim’s help. I think it may be time to seek out God’s.

“Some roads lead to Nirvana, and others back to where they began.

And, sometimes a treasure’s destiny is to stay hidden beneath the sand.”

– John Oszajca

Past Ghosts and Present Treasures

"One way leads to diamonds, one way leads to gold, another leads

you only to everything you're told. In your heart you wonder which of

 these is true; the road that leads to nowhere, the road that leads to you..."

I sense change in the wind. I came here on a quest – to find a lifetime treasure, someone to inspire me and end a prolonged period of loneliness. However, this morning I want to be just that -- alone! I pick up a breakfast roll and juice, and bike to the White Street pier to catch the sunrise. Once there, I break the bread and eat it as the warm pastels of dawn begin to splash across the sky. It’s a glorious sunrise! I raise the bottle of juice up in a toast to the universe.

Words long forgotten drift across the vast sea of the past. An old man walks into my classroom and sits down on my desk. Towering over me, I hear Hezakiah speak once again: "Dürrschmidt, I know what your problem is. You hunger for apple. So you keep searching for orchards year after year, looking for one BIG apple enough to satisfy your hunger. Well…you STILL haven't found it, boy! Sad thing is all the time you’ve been walking past many choice, smaller apples." 

With that having been said, he leaves. What the hell was that all about?

Ah, yes…today, I see it as clearly as the morning sun! I came to Key West hoping to find one special apple and still haven’t found it. Hezakiah’s haunting causes me to reflect upon some of the smaller apples I’ve encountered along the way here.

Elmar, a German exchange student, comes to mind. An unnaturally sensitive young man, his kind words and reassuring presence through my separation and divorce were my bridge over troubled waters. We’re still in touch and have a special relationship that’s growing more platinum over time.

Oh yes, Geoffrey! A college sophomore, he was my first ever major crush. Like a gift from God, Geoff entered my life right at the time of the divorce. He unselfishly pulled this once confused caterpillar out of a cocoon to see his true identity as a colorful butterfly. Though we’ve since lost touch, Geoffrey sparkles like a diamond in a special place in my heart.

The bond between Mindaugas and I was instant. We crammed as much time as possible into our brief time together before he returned to Lithuania – two kindred spirits eager to share thoughts and feelings.

I enjoyed Garth’s wonderfully creative spirit. We share a wacky sense of humor, love for writing, and self-expression through art. He’s straight and painfully unavailable, yet time spent together continues to be more precious than the rarest of gems. Though none of them have proven to be the “great apple,” collectively they’ve enriched my life more than any amount of gold. Straight or gay, I have come to learn that there is more to intimate male-to-male gay bonding that simply sex. The friendship of each of these young men helped me grow emotionally and spiritually in ways I had ever imagined. Hey, two out of three isn’t bad. Right? I’ll let you decide.

Okay, so I still haven’t found the BIG apple. But the time in Key West hasn’t been a total bust. I did discover that there's no greater treasure in the world than freedom – the freedom to become oneself. I’ve also discovered that there's no destination to be reached, or miles to be traveled, to find treasure. Treasures greater than gold surround each of us every day of our lives. Treasure is also to be found wherever one’s heart is. In the words of singer Joe Jackson, "You can't get what you want 'til you know what you want."  Key West has proven to me what I don’t want. There’s got to be that special someone out there somewhere, longing for a guy like me...yes, somewhere.

Well, the wind is picking up. I sense it’s time to set sail. The story goes on. Where it will lead from here, I’m not at all sure. Fate holds the answer that I pray time may soon reveal. After all, I’m not getting any younger.

"... Each heart is a pilgrim, each one wants to know the reason why the winds

die and where the stories go. Pilgrim in your journey you may travel far, for

Pilgrim it's a long way to find out who you are." - Enya

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To thine own self be true.