LGBTQ news and entertainment
Well, what a Father’s Day gift to himself.
From Huffington Post:
As Rockies star Troy Tulowitzki’s home run made its way to the stands in left field, a father holding his baby was making his way back to his seat.
As the man emerged from the tunnel, he reached out and casually caught the home run with one hand with the baby in his other arm. Then he calmly headed up the steps as if it wasn’t a big deal.
From President Obama’s 2014 Father’s Day Proclamation:
“With encouragement and unconditional love, fathers guide their children and help them envision brighter futures. They are teachers and coaches, friends and role models. They instill values like hard work and integrity, and teach their kids to take responsibility for themselves and those around them.
“This is a task for every father — whether married or single, gay or straight, natural or adoptive — and every child deserves someone who will step up and fill this role.
“My Administration proudly supports dads who are not only present but also involved, who meet their commitments to their sons and daughters, even if their own fathers did not.
“Today, let us reflect on our fathers’ essential contributions to our lives, our society, and our Nation.
“Let us thank the men who understand there is nothing more important than being the best fathers they can be.”
Thank you to all the father’s who play a role in helping children move forward.
Hallmark is stepping up to the new millennium by offering a new animated GIF Father’s Day e-card for those folks lucky enough to have two gay dads.
Eleven years ago today, my handsome wonder dog Bruno came into this world.
I can’t imagine life without “the Brun.” It’s hard to believe he hasn’t been a part of my life before 2002. He’s a great dog, a great friend, and me makes me feel like we’re more best friends than something like pet and owner – a phrase that feels distasteful to even write.
On top on his amazing qualities, he’s also a dad. At the age of one, he and our beautiful Sabrina gave us “the puppies,” who are all still with us today. And he’s been a great dad to the puppies from the first day he saw them.
I made the above video within days of Bruno becoming a part of my life. He’s just as spunky and confident today as he was then.
Happy happy birthday, Bruno! And Happy Father’s Day! You rock!
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| I think of this as Bruno’s headshot. Handsome! |
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| The first time Bruno saw his puppies |
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| Bruno checking on the kids |
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| Bruno napping with puppy Bandit |
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| Bruno and puppy Tyler |
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| Bruno entertains the kids with mom Sabrina looking on |
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| Happy Bruno today – what a smile! |
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| Bruno as a puppy the day we met |
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| Not a great pic of me, but this is how every day starts at The Randy Report. For the first hour of the day I only type with one hand, as Bruno always lays on my left. |
“Being a good parent, whether you’re gay or straight, a foster parent or a grand parent, isn’t easy. It demands your constant attention, frequent sacrifice, and of course a healthy dose of patience.
“And nobody’s perfect – I’m still trying to be a better husband to my wife and a better father to my kids. And I want to do everything I can as President to encourage strong marriages and strong families.
[snip]
“When I look back on my life, I won’t be thinking about any particular legislation I passed or policy I promoted. I’ll be thinking about Michelle, and the journey we’ve been on together.
” I’ll be thinking about Sasha’s dance recitals and Malia’s tennis matches – about the conversations we’ve had and the quiet moments we’ve shared.
“I’ll be thinking about whether I did right by them, and whether they knew, every day, just how much they were loved.” —President Obama talks fatherhood in his weekly address
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. To every man who makes a difference in someone’s life, and teaches people to have no fear.
I originally posted this as my very first post on The Randy Report. I had no idea what I was going to write about. As I wrote, it became clear I had something to say about my father who had passed away a little over a year before I wrote this.
I thought this might be appropriate to re-post on Father’s Day.
Growing up in Texas, I was pretty afraid of a lot of the world. Afraid to express myself, afraid I wouldn’t be liked, afraid I wouldn’t get where I wanted to go. I went to Syracuse University for college – blinding change of temperature, tone and scenery. Opened up my world a bit as a got through four freezing cold years, spent over $40K and walked away with a piece of paper saying that I had done something.
I moved to NYC with my best friend Carlye to pursue dreams of being on Broadway, and eventually got there after serving time in many National touring companies of those Broadway shows I dreamed of being a part of.
In those years I came to deal with the fact that I was gay, fell out of the closet, fell in love with my husband Michael, moved out west, got married and began a new chapter. You’ll be hearing much more about Carlye and Michael in future posts.
Somewhere along the way I realized life had taught me a lot about fear and it’s uselessness. I once heard the phrase “I’m not afraid of anything” and I really liked how that sounded. I try to honor that. Even if a little fear creeps into a life moment, I chalk it up to reminding me I’m alive – as a cancer survivor I like the “alive” part. But most of the time, I just try to keep moving forward.
I’m not so worried about what people think of me anymore, or what people will think of how I express my thoughts. I think it’s the American Way to live and let live, to honor our differences and realize that all our flavors create the best country in the world. I have no time for people who have issues with anyone who is “different.” Different is good. And if you believe that, you have to take it to the bank. Live it. So skin color, hair color, religion or lack thereof, sexual orientation, age, blah blah blah…. it all makes life interesting and spicy. At least to me.
Short story: My father loved to travel and loved adventure. Before he died at the age of 91, he had traveled everywhere in the world several times over. Sometimes by himself, meeting new friends along the way. Talk about no fear.
My mother had passed away when I was five, so my father was THE grown up figure in my life. He was very confident, and throughout childhood I always knew he loved me. But growing up, I wanted his approval. I wanted him to be proud of me. To not only love me, but see me attempt something and hear him say “good job.”
When I was very young my father took my brother and me to Mexico for a vacation. For me as a 7 year old, Mexico was a very different world. Other than a swimming pool at a hotel, I was scared of a lot. At one point we were on a beach and my father signed my 9 year old brother Gary up to go para-sailing. They strapped Gary into the harness, and up and away he went. It didn’t seem like adventure to me so much as just plain frightening. When the time came for the ride to end, my brother was so small and light in weight and the wind was so strong, it was difficult to get him down to the ground. It took ten minutes for the “technicians” to get him down. My father turned to me and said “you’re next” and I went running away, crying. Scared to death. That was Mexico to me for a long, long time.
Fast forward to two years ago. I was on vacation with friends of mine and we all decided to go zip lining through the jungle near Puerto Vallarta. I couldn’t wait. Loved it. Taking a zip line hundreds of feet above the jungle floor was beyond exhilarating. The guides asked my name at the start of the day and I gave myself a nickname “Bruno” just to be funny and make my friends laugh. All day long the guides cheered “Bruno” on. It was a great day. No fear in sight and it didn’t even occur to me fear should even be in the equation.
The next morning, while still in Mexico, I got the call my 91 year old father had passed away in his sleep of natural causes. I flew from PV to Texas to handle the funeral and burial details. In getting ready to speak at my father’s funeral – a daunting and important “one shot moment” at expressing something that needed to be profound – I searched to find the best and most “right” thing to say about this world & life traveler who never showed fear.
And suddenly it came to me the memory of that 7 year old boy who was so afraid of everything in life, and now – having just been in Mexico for the first time since the frightening age of 7, and without thinking twice – I was the one zooming through the canopy of the jungle thrilled at the adventure of it all. I suddenly sensed an amazing closing of a circle and passing of a torch. I think one of our parent’s greatest responsibilities is to prepare us, consciously and subconsciously, to face life. To not be afraid.
Standing next to my father’s casket, in a moment of clarity I turned and said to my father and his memory – “good job.”
That story probably says something about me and my life.
I hope people find this blog, and read and react.
Feel free. No fear.
I originally posted this as my very first post on The Randy Report. I had no idea what I was going to write about. As I wrote, it became clear I had something to say about my father who had passed away a little over a year before I wrote this.
I thought this might be appropriate to re-post this Father’s Day.
Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there. To every man who makes a difference in someone’s life, and teaches people to have no fear.
Growing up in Texas, I was pretty afraid of a lot of the world. Afraid to express myself, afraid I wouldn’t be liked, afraid I wouldn’t get where I wanted to go. I went to Syracuse University for college – blinding change of temperature, tone and scenery. Opened up my world a bit as a got through four freezing cold years, spent over $40K and walked away with a piece of paper saying that I had done something.
I moved to NYC with my best friend Carlye to pursue dreams of being on Broadway, and eventually got there after serving time in many National touring companies of those Broadway shows I dreamed of being a part of.
In those years I came to deal with the fact that I was gay, fell out of the closet, fell in love with my husband Michael, moved out west, got married and began a new chapter. You’ll be hearing much more about Carlye and Michael in future posts.
Somewhere along the way I realized life had taught me a lot about fear and it’s uselessness. I once heard the phrase “I’m not afraid of anything” and I really liked how that sounded. I try to honor that. Even if a little fear creeps into a life moment, I chalk it up to reminding me I’m alive – as a cancer survivor I like the “alive” part. But most of the time, I just try to keep moving forward.
I’m not so worried about what people think of me anymore, or what people will think of how I express my thoughts. I think it’s the American Way to live and let live, to honor our differences and realize that all our flavors create the best country in the world. I have no time for people who have issues with anyone who is “different.” Different is good. And if you believe that, you have to take it to the bank. Live it. So skin color, hair color, religion or lack thereof, sexual orientation, age, blah blah blah…. it all makes life interesting and spicy. At least to me.
Short story: My father loved to travel and loved adventure. Before he died at the age of 91, he had traveled everywhere in the world several times over. Sometimes by himself, meeting new friends along the way. Talk about no fear.
My mother had passed away when I was five, so my father was THE grown up figure in my life. He was very confident, and throughout childhood I always knew he loved me. But growing up, I wanted his approval. I wanted him to be proud of me. To not only love me, but see me attempt something and hear him say “good job.”
When I was very young my father took my brother and me to Mexico for a vacation. For me as a 7 year old, Mexico was a very different world. Other than a swimming pool at a hotel, I was scared of a lot. At one point we were on a beach and my father signed my 9 year old brother Gary up to go para-sailing. They strapped Gary into the harness, and up and away he went. It didn’t seem like adventure to me so much as just plain frightening. When the time came for the ride to end, my brother was so small and light in weight and the wind was so strong, it was difficult to get him down to the ground. It took ten minutes for the “technicians” to get him down. My father turned to me and said “you’re next” and I went running away, crying. Scared to death. That was Mexico to me for a long, long time.
Fast forward to two years ago. I was on vacation with friends of mine and we all decided to go zip lining through the jungle near Puerto Vallarta. I couldn’t wait. Loved it. Taking a zip line hundreds of feet above the jungle floor was beyond exhilarating. The guides asked my name at the start of the day and I gave myself a nickname “Bruno” just to be funny and make my friends laugh. All day long the guides cheered “Bruno” on. It was a great day. No fear in sight and it didn’t even occur to me fear should even be in the equation.
The next morning, while still in Mexico, I got the call my 91 year old father had passed away in his sleep of natural causes. I flew from PV to Texas to handle the funeral and burial details. In getting ready to speak at my father’s funeral – a daunting and important “one shot moment” at expressing something that needed to be profound – I searched to find the best and most “right” thing to say about this world & life traveler who never showed fear.
And suddenly it came to me the memory of that 7 year old boy who was so afraid of everything in life, and now – having just been in Mexico for the first time since the frightening age of 7, and without thinking twice – I was the one zooming through the canopy of the jungle thrilled at the adventure of it all. I suddenly sensed an amazing closing of a circle and passing of a torch. I think one of our parent’s greatest responsibilities is to prepare us, consciously and subconsciously, to face life. To not be afraid.
Standing next to my father’s casket, in a moment of clarity I turned and said to my father and his memory – “good job.”
That story probably says something about me and my life.
I hope people find this blog, and read and react.
Feel free. No fear.