It was by no chance I was born a Texan. My great grandparents were offended by the possibility that I would be born in California, where my father was stationed in the Navy. So during the height of my mother's pregnancy, my great grandparents snatched my mother away and drove her back to small town north of Corpus Christi, called Refugio, where I was born. My mother was born and raised in Texas as were most of my family, so naturally, they thought, I should be, too.

Shortly after my birth, however, my parents divorced after four years of marriage. Later, my mother remarried and I spent most of my adolescence in the Rio Grande Valley area of Texas.

When I graduated in 1983, I went to college on a music scholarship  at McNeese State Univeristy in Lake Charles, Louisiana. It was a fun time playing in a large college band, but I never connected well with the culture. Louisiana is an animal all unto itself, it seems, and after four semesters, I left and moved to Austin in 1985, where my mother had moved while I was in college. I spent most of my time there on active duty with the US Army and stayed in Austin the whole time. It was a blast. While I was on active duty, I went overseas twice: once to Australia, and then a few years later to Italy. Consequently, I got to spend my birthday in Rome in 1988. Unfortunately, Austin still seems to be a young person's town, and when I turned 28, I decided to move to Houston, where I lived for five and a half years.

It was during that time in Houston that I did most of my "coming out." Houston is a pretty good town for doing that, because it has a fairly stable community, a lot of friendly people, and despite all the talk about how dirty it is -- which it is -- it does have its good points. First off, it has the best arts scene in Texas, thanks to all the corporate money; a pretty hip outdoor venue for live acts; plus a great gay dance club -- Rich's -- which is still my favorite place to dance.

While I lived in Houston,  I spent three summer vacations in New York with my friend Rusty, a UT graduate who works for a major publishing firm. He lives just one block from the infamous Stonewall Inn, and right in the heart of the gay district. The city has a lot of energy, and when I got back home, I noticed I talked faster, walked faster, was a little pushier than usual, and not quite myself. It takes about a week or so to unwind from a New York trip. But in any case, it was worth it!

My mother and dad, sometime in the early '60s.

         Why do parents give dolls to their boys!? Me, circa 1965.

Where's my cell phone, damn it!                                         

Here's me -- clean shaven -- while I was on an Army trip to Australia in 1986. The 'roos are fun to play with, very curious, and incredibly efficient pick-pockets. Notice how the one on the left is eyeing a candy bar sticking out of my back pocket!

Like my truck, I like my men with a lot of Ram <wink>!