Sunday, March 29, 2009

Lazy Day on the Farm

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

I Am Ready

Once vibrant and full of life, the sugarcane fields have all but grown wild from neglect. Time has left this old red barn in need of a new paint job. Heck, even those horse shoes have gotten mighty rusty. Something tells me that our luck is about to change REAL SOON. Happier times are just around the corner...


Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Couch Loving

My children had to go to the Vet today. They each received anesthesia so they could get a good teeth cleaning. Pierre had two teeth pulled because they were loose due to overcrowding. It is important to make sure your dog receives great dental care before they get gum disease later in life. Let's pray a little prevention now helps them later in life.


Monday, March 23, 2009

A New Day:

I have some of the best friends in the world. Even though I have moved down to ugly duckling status, some have taken me under their wings to protect and coddle me during these trying times.

Whipping Boy and his partner were so sweet. They would tell me, Yeah... you may be ugly... and no one wants you... but we'll be seen with you! Just put this brown paper bag over your head.

The best part were them playing the role of the fussy couple. Before we landed in San Antonio, one had accidentally spilled a drink on the other. They were bitching and eyeball rolling each other. Walking through the terminal, the wet one was frantically searching for flights back to New Orleans. I got all teary eyed and thanked them for trying to make me feel better about being single.

The next morning, Whipping Boy and his partner escorted me to the tennis center with my Wilson (K) Factor Pro racquet and a brown paper bag still firmly on my head. Before we got out of the vehicle, Whipping Boy wrote a large "S" with a black sharpie. In a fatherly voice, he calmly told me... You must walk with your shame Hester.

When we arrived at the tournament check-in desk, I was immediately ordered to remove the bag over my head. As I did, I heard a gasp from the crowd. I begged for the bag back, but this time Whipping Boy refused to let me have it. I was now forced to make eye contact with my peers, who were naturally all happily married and in perfect relationships. Gulp.

Fortunately, there were some kind souls who felt sorry for me. They risked being ostracized by others by letting me hit with them. One nice man with a furry beard took the biggest risk of all by giving me a nice backrub right there on the tennis courts! It had been so long since I had been touched, that I almost shed a tear. (The Veronica's Untouched song is totally about me!)

Everyone associated with the Heart of Texas 7 were warned in advance that there may be fireworks from a freshly broken up couple. When I finally did encounter my Ex, there was remarkably no drama. He wore a fabulous black tennis outfit (with magical slimming powers) that I bought him for Christmas. Bastard.

During the weekend, the whole Louisiana contingent of two couples and two suddenly single people came together and supported each other. We refused to be fractured by the D.I.V.O.R.C.E. and watched each other play. Dinners were completely no-drama events. Well, there was this 20 year old waitress who I wanted to bitch slap at Chilis, but I won't go there. The weekend actually turned out to be nice and enjoyable for everyone.

Monte ended up performing the best in the tournament. He won five singles matches in three days and was the runner up in C Singles. He and E.Shrew won the D Doubles Championship Trophy.

I flopped in most of the matches I had to play. I lost a thrilling 6-4,4-6,6-3 singles match to the #3 seed and a 6-4,7-6 doubles match with my partner Kevin. God continues to have a sense of humor in blessing me with futility in tournaments so far in 2009.

Monte, Me, and E.Shrew:


Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Austin Bound Scarlett

Fiddle-dee-dee! I am packing my steamer trunk for Austin, Texas today. I have so much baggage, oh where will I ever find the room for my hand mirror or hair dryer? I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow. Ahem.

The Heart of Texas Classic 7, which starts Friday, promises to be one drama filled event! Pageantry. Incest. Gossip. New lovers. The Exes. It will all be here. The plot lines and soap operas are so juicy sometimes that it masks the true purpose of the event: TO SMASH YOUR RIVAL AND EARN BRAGGING RIGHTS FOR A WHOLE YEAR.

I am traveling with a Louisiana contingent tomorrow afternoon. I'll be fully armed and ready to unleash some aggression. Who among us will get out of the first round? Who will have to settle for Consolation Queen? Stay tuned... play starts Friday morning!

Monday, March 16, 2009


It has been seven whole days. I am still single. I feel like the ugly duckling no one wants. I recognize my specialness on the meat market. I am like alligator tail steak sirloin. Exotic. For adventurous souls only. Requires special handling.

I have this growing awareness that I am "special". Quite frankly, I am treated differently by others. In my peripheral vision, it is not uncommon for me to see friends point at me and twirl their index fingers around in a circular pattern.

Or I am greeted as if I were a child. They change the way they talk and say, "Well... hiiiii Brett... are you having a good day or a bad day?" When group introductions are done, I am always introduced last. They will typically say, "This is Brett... he's our special buddy." They exchange knowing glances and winks. I have a wonderful bunch of friends. Sniff.

Do you know that the Shrew actually gave me a sippy cup once because I had a habit of spilling drinks? Yes. It's true. I fill the glass up too high, miss my mouth, and it just pours down on my shirt. He should have gotten me a bib too.

I recognize that I am special. I do have childlike qualities even at 38 years old. I find myself walking around the kingdom of singlehoodness as if I were a baby fawn just being weaned from their mother.

All I truly want is to be loved. As I find my way in this brave new world, that is my mission. There will surely be some stumbles, but I have no choice but to continue moving gayly forward.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Monday, March 09, 2009

He was not a fan:

Cajuns are an emotional people. We can pretend that things don't bother us, but goddamn it if they do. I will try to put into words what has transpired. My five year relationship is over with E.Shrew. For good.

It is no secret that we have had bumps in the road. Our relationship would pause, stop, and restart again. Sometimes 8 1/2 months later. There was always something pulling us back together. Was it simply a case of better than nothing? I don't know.

What I do know is that life is too short to not be happy. You will not find me jumping for joy or doing cartwheels. I am pretty bummed about the event. I'll be far happier in the long run however.

Before you ask, I have not met anyone. It will just be me and my dogs Boudreaux and Pierre for quite some time. I'll focus hard on sparing my friends from any excessive whining. I think the term for that is atariageism.

Being single is not something that I relish. It seems foreign and places me completely out of my comfort zone. If you see me walking down the street with a pouty lip out, a hug and fub would be nice. I do look forward to happier times.

Tuesday, March 03, 2009

My American Life

Sometimes I feel like Madonna. The march of time has not been kind. Watching the hairline recede further along has been downright depressing. With each passing day, more gray whiskers pop up like prairie dogs in my beard. And those crinkly old man eyes, courtesy of crow's feet, make me wince.

Growing old ranks right up there with one of the worst things that can happen to a gay man. We younger gays have always been told by elder gays that we really don't peak until we reach our 40's. Will my 40's be as fabulous as they promised?

I sure hope so. Playing tennis five days a week has kept me lean and was beneficial to my health. But who wants a lean Daddy? Daddies are supposed to be thick in every department. How else can we properly render discipline to unruly younger gays?

With the opening of a gym just a block away from work, I had the chance to drastically change up my routine. I even hired a personal trainer to ramp up my workouts. It has been a wonderful decision.

In seven short weeks, my body has become pretty solid. My quads are getting back to being bulky. My biceps are getting closer to being "respectable". I am even sprouting up new back muscles. That's an area that I tended to neglect in the past.

Getting back to being muscular should partially counter the negative consequences of the aging process. I hope! Gulp. In the meantime, I should start expecting to pay for attention next time while in DC.

I tried to be a boy
I tried to be a girl
I tried to be a mess
I tried to be the best
I guess I did it wrong
That's why I wrote this song.

I got a rooster and a tennis coach,
A lawn man and a trainer
Six hens and a Torrent.
Do you think I'm satisfied?

I'm just living out the American dream
And I just realized that nothing is what it seems