Devon Hunter

Hello,

My name is Devon Hunter, and I saw the CNN story about your organization that helps care for victims of sexual slavery in Nepal. I was deeply moved, both by the generosity of Maiti Nepal and the strength of spirit in the girls and women who have survived brutality. I want to help financially, and I know how to find the information for your bank account on your website. I plan to donate, but I have a specific question first: What is the annual cost of providing food, shelter, medical care, therapy, and job training for a patient for a full year? I would like, in my mind, to know that there is a single person out there with whom I have connected, even if I never know her name or see her face. If you could please give me the estimated total for this, I will then make arrangements to give what I can toward the goal of helping “my special girl” each year.

Thank you for the kindness you give to the world,

Devon Hunter

An acquaintance I’ve had for some years and who has always been attracted to me has just set up an appointment. His boyfriend hurt him and they broke up, and he needs to splurge on himself. And he has chosen to do that with me. He says I have always turned him on, and that I’ve always been kind to him. So when he was trying to figure out what to do to pamper himself, I came immediately to mind.

I am going to cook dinner for him afterward. He needs to be taken care of, and having known him for five years, I can honestly say that I am happy to do it for him. He is a good soul, and I want him to feel better.

For me there is no issue doing an appointment with him, though he is nervous it will change our interaction. I have not spent much time with him in person, and so I believe he is over-thinking all this. At any rate, I’ve never been hired by someone whom I knew personally before my foray into this life. I’m rather intrigued by it!

I just want him to feel better.

EDIT:

He just left. All we did was talk and hold hands. It’s what he needed, and I’m glad he trusted me with some of what he was sharing for the first time with anyone in his life.

I just got back from seeing the midnight screening of Michael Jackson’s “This Is It.” You really must see it… He was such a funny person. I love his artistry. I love his humanity. It was a wonderful production, and that the performances never happened before audiences is really a shame.

Tonight I got a post on my Pimpology entry from Mom. She has interacted here on the site some, but not for a while, and I’d forgotten she reads what I post. At any rate, I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge how very lucky I am to have the family I have. They never discouraged me when I said I wanted to be a choreographer; they never doubted any of my ideas or plans; they never even implied that my being gay was remotely an issue (except at first there was a concern for my safety in the rural South, but it wasn’t an issue of being disowned); and they never judged me for making the career choices I made (since they know me, and know that I have very good reasons/intentions for going in various directions)…

My mother (and many people probably think this as well, but I know I’m right – HA!) is the single most amazing human being I’ve ever known. She is patient, generous, selfless, kind, and thoughtful. She is sensitive, intelligent, and creative. And I’m not the only person who thinks so. Mom is the kind of person that you want to love, and you want her to love you back, because she’s so talented at it. She doesn’t try to be all of this – she is simply good, and she’s adept at encouraging it in others. She is beautiful, on many levels… though I never appreciated her strange diet fads, until I was older and started experimenting with my own. She may never live down that bowl of cold apple juice with brown rice and bananas…

Perhaps it’s a gay stereotype to deify one’s mother, but Mom reminds me of The Mother. I don’t want to imply that I think my mother is perfect, because that would render her less human. My primary fear for my mother is that she is too kind for this world. There are so many people who do not deserve the pleasure of having known her. However,  I am glad she is here with us, and I definitely think that if more people built their houses around the pre-existing trees on their lots, took time to trim rose bushes on a daily basis, chose kindness before revenge, ate almost exclusively raw fruits and veggies, illustrated children’s books/sewed stuffed animals from scratch for their kids and grandkids, and used a large glass of water and/or tea tree oil as the first choice for almost any complaint that needs a remedy… well… the world would be a better place.

(fade up to Star Wars theme song by John Williams)

Okay, sorry for the overly dramatic beginning. Well, my roommate got my car started, and all the electrical bugs got fixed, but the Miata ended up costing me $500 more anyway: The rear brake calipers started leaking, and they sprayed brake fluid all over the brake pads… Long story short: Had to get new brake pads (which were more than 50% worn anyway, so no biggie – they would have needed replacing anyway soon), but I also had to get new brake calipers. But the car drives like a dream again. Just have to figure out where the water is coming from that is flooding the floor panel under the passenger seat… HMMMM! Anyway, there you have it.

BUT!!

There is something wonderful to share: While I was getting my brakes fixed I went to lunch. At the table next to me were two of the happiest women I’d seen in a long time. They were having such a good time together. OMG! Their energy was captivating. They were laughing deep in their bellies, and it was like listening to music. They had beautifully braided hair, and their dresses were covered in colorful African (or African inspired) designs. Their bangled jewelry clinked like little bells every time they’d throw their hands up in hysterics. They were so happy!

“I’m sorry to interrupt you.”

“Yes?” one said with a delightful glitter in her saucy eyes.

“I’ve been having a rough time lately, and, although I’m not listening to your conversation, I can’t help but overhear how happy you both are. I just wanted to tell you that I feel better for having heard real friendship next to me.”

“AWWW! That is so sweet! And you know what, baby? Whatever is getting you down… It’ll pass.”

“I think it just did.”

Now… time to go pack some boxes, so I can start moving into the new home I’ve found for me and Sméagol. He’s playing in the tape and cardboard: He’s always so happy to see all the new places to hide and ambush me from. His collar jingles as he’s playing, and it reminds me of the laughter of the two friends.

I feel good.

This week I’m in Washington, D.C. helping with various Pride activities to which I committed myself. Last night was an event I’d not originally planned on being part of, but I’m really excited I got to be here nonetheless. Last night Dr. Terry, the man behind the FUK!T campaign, hosted a fundraiser here at The Artists’ Inn Residence for an organization that is planning to open a permenant museum for LGBTQ history that will be opening in the capital soon. The guest of honor was Frank Kameny, one of the single most important figures in the Gay Rights movement of the United States.

Dr. Frank Kameny is one of those people about whom not enough is said, especially by younger LGBTQ people who (through little fault of their own) know almost nothing about their community’s history. Kameny is one of the first, if not THE first, full time Gay Liberation activists. He holds a doctorate in astronomy from Harvard, and was fired in the 1950′s from his federal job for being homosexual. Kameny immediately began writing letters and protested his dismissal to the Supreme Court. He began picketing and protesting in front of the White House and Pentagon years prior to the Stonewall Riots of 1969 in New York City. When you see 1960′s era black and white footage of people marching on the sidewalks in D.C. in support of LGBTQ rights, that is film of Kameny and his friends/allies.

And I got to meet him! IN PERSON! OMG! It’s the equivalent of meeting Rosa Parks or Martin Luther King, Jr. It’s like meeting Susan B. Anthony or César Chávez. This is a big deal! I can’t believe it… I was punch crazy all night – I’d not been drinking, but I was excited, giggly, energetic… And then I realized something: This is what Pride feels like. HAPPY PRIDE!