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Posts Tagged ‘Boy Scouts’

I’ve started writing again.  Of course I always say it, but I may actually finish this time.  As is true with so many of my ideas for stories, this one formed in the nebulous region of my mind that rules over the place between asleep and awake.  I can’t remember what the seed was, since nothing from that realm can last for longer than an hour or so, but it has grown into something viable.

The characters are vaguely modeled after the set of twins in the Citadel’s boys’ choir.  1of2 and 2of2.  Beyond their twinship, the fact that they both have half the name of a founding father, and the fact that one is maturing more rapidly than the other, there is little resemblance between my characters and them.  1of2 is far less insecure (as far as I can see) than Alexander, and far less bothered by 2of2’s puberty.

The story is of Alexander and Martin Grey.  Thirteen-year-old fraternal twins.  Martin’s recent entry into puberty and his acquisition of a girlfriend are making the marginally older Alex feel left behind.  These feelings of inadequacy and betrayal peak during a Boy Scout camp-out, eventually driving Alex to confront his “little” brother.

Martin is remarkably sympathetic and assures Alex that he will never abandon him.  Later, during a hike, Alex and Martin get separated from the troop and lost.  Martin rushes ahead to try and find the troop, leaving Alex behind, again feeling abandoned and betrayed.  Martin returns a little while later, saying he would not abandon his fresh vow and begins to lead Alex along the path he’d discovered.  However when the larger, stronger Martin leaps across a crevice and rushes on, Alex is reluctant to follow, fearing the fall that would follow if he slipped.  Not wanting to be left behind again, and reluctant to appear a coward, he overcomes his fear and makes the jump.

And Misses.  He falls into the crevice, landing very painfully, feeling his back break.  Before dying he looks around and sees his brother’s corpse just feet away.

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I called off from work tomorrow.  They’re not going to be happy about that, but I must get better.  My voice is almost completely gone and I have a rehearsal tomorrow, a concert the day after, and then a service, another concert, and a singing-social event on Sunday.  I can’t take chances.

I remembered something as I walked back from my car the second time tonight.  (I left my phone.  Again.)  It’s raining.  Two days ago I called Jess and left a message about the melancholy feeling I get when it rains.  That elusive want isn’t the need to be needed that I talked about before.  I apparently have two unknowable longings.  This second one is more nostalgia than the other, I think, but not completely.

What I remembered was sitting on the front stoop of my house when I was a child (think 7-9, or maybe more like 6-8) with an umbrella propped against the wall, huddled underneath it in the rain.  I was making a tent for myself and enjoying the gloomy weather.  I’m fairly certain that the feeling I feel now when it rains is the same basic emotion I felt playing then.  This is significant because it proves my assumption about the rain-feeling’s origins wrong.  If I felt the same feeling that young, then it can’t be nostalgia for some forgotten adolescent event associated with rain.  It likely has nothing to do with boys.  I think I’d just come to assume it did because a) common layman’s understanding of psychology leads us to assume that all things stem from sexuality and our parents and b) boys are generally the only thing that can get that deep and strong an emotional response out of me.

But maybe it still is about boys in some way.  First, the feeling can’t be exactly the same now as it was then.  I’ve matured and evolved and had new experiences that have added to my associations with rain.  And I certainly experienced a lot of rain and tents with boys in boy scouts.

Or we could consider the possibility of an early sign of my sexuality.  (A dangerous and often misleading course of action, I have come to believe.)  I’m sure I ran fantasies of children caught out in the elements, despondent, needing rescue.  I think I remember thinking of that, playing that “game” with me as the distressed child.  (I remember being particularly fascinated with stories like Hans Christian Andersen’s The Little Match-Seller.)  I don’t recall that leading to rescue fantasy.  Only the helpless situation.  Only when I was old enough to cast myself in the role of rescuer did my fantasies take on that element, I believe.  But I’ve been fantasizing that general situation my whole life.

And I think this fantasy is likely familiar for most boylovers.  It goes back to the need to be needed thing.  We fantasize about children and distress not because it’s attractive, but because it creates a need for the rescuer.

Perhaps that very fantasy – which is often featured in BL fiction – could be the root of what makes some pedophiles turn violent towards children.  The fantasy has an undeniably dark aspect.  It isn’t inconceivable that a young man experimenting in his mind with the rescue scenario could become fixated on the first half to the exclusion of the rescue portion.  Especially if he pays too much attention to the opinion of society at large that people who feel sexual attraction to children are monsters by “virtue” of their attraction only, and not their actions.  If he obsesses too much on the fantasy child’s distress it could eventually become attractive to him.  Especially if he comes to embrace that self-loathing that viewing yourself as a monster leads to.  Young men often try to live up to expectations.

Coming from someone as inexpert as myself, this may all be a load of bollocks.

In any case, the rain makes me feel melancholy in a sweet way that I want to nurture, while making me long for something unknown and lost.

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I foolishly left my journal at home yesterday.  Well, not so much foolishly as forgetfully.  I meant to bring it, knowing I was working a double.  In actuality, though, I worked a tripple.  The AM shift had two banquets overlapping.

Anyway, The Restaurant seems to have hired a pair of children.  (I assume they are 14.)  The one is about 5’8″, red headed, changed voice, and slightly overweight.  The other, on the other hand, is 5’6″ (still tall for my usual taste), brown haired, skinny, unchanged voice, and has a very cute face.  And beautiful skin.  Quite attractive.  They were stationed by the dish washer to clear a la carte servers’ trays.

Also that day, in my second room, there was a boy probably about nine years old who looked a lot like a slightly younger version of the boy in the JCPenny’s comercials on Hulu.  (The Ice/Nice one.)  Every time I walked out of the kitchen, or carried a tray toward it, he would watch me openly.  He probably watched all the servers as they did their jobs, since the impression I got from him was one of strong curiosity.  He was very cute.  It seems to me that he was watching to see how the job worked.  Where we went, who was where, what we were bringing in/carrying out.

He’s not the first boy to watch me so closely while I waited tables.  Many weeks ago, near my beginning but after my training, there was a wedding when I had my tray stand right next to a boy I took to be around 10.  He also openly watched my every move.  I spent the whole time hoping he ‘d ask me questions.  He never did, of course.

With the dish boy in the kitchen and the JCP boy in the dining room, I noticed that I worked harder, more diligently.  I moved with greater purpose, made sure to smile, follow procedure, do everything with greater efficiency.  It’s something I’ve thought of before, and even considered writing about but never did, in part because I never had this tool –  the journal – that is so welcoming to such observations.

The observation being: boys inspire me.  I mean, really.  They have shaped me since I started noticing them.  While being a pedophile/boylover in an intollerant society has shaped me in various ways – some positive, some negative – the boys themselves have only ever been positive influences.

So many pivotal moments can be dated to when I was 13.  Christmas when I was 13 I discovered (rediscovered) my great-uncle’s colection of English men and boys choirs Christmas carol albums.  Those recordings inspired more interest in the other classical LPs in the basement.  I was drawn to them because of the boys’ voices, but in listening raptly I learned to love the music and the genre as well.  I’d always had an interest in classical music, but that’s when it became a passion.  In those other LPs I discovered Mozart, and then as my ears matured, Bach and Beethoven.

I bought from Boarders two CDs of boy music, also when I was 13 I think.  A compilation recording of Westminster Cathedral Choir and a Vienna Boys’ Choir CD featuring mostly solos by an also 13yo Max Emanuel Cencic.  The Cencic CD I loved, with its Handel, Mozart, Schubert and Strauss.  At first I didn’t like all the 20th century stuff on the Westminster CD, but again the voices inspired me to grow.  It eventually became my favorite CD.

A leadership position got me over my first hump in Boy Scouts (13 yo), but it was the boys (Candy, Orange Hat, Owl, CIA, N, Casper, Little Man, Fox, and finally The Beloved) that got me over the second, so I stayed to and beyond Eagle Scout.

Boys are the reason I joined the Citadel, and that has been an excellent post to have for many reasons.

I’m sure there are many more examples, but now I must eat, shave, change and go to work, yet again.

*I found some pages of skit scripts I wrote for skit night at music camp.  Kinda funny.  I was 14 when I wrote them, I think.  I had horrible handwriting.

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Fail

I am a chicken.  It’s seven o’clock, but I just can’t make myself go to the scout meeting.  Now I’m planning to get started with scouts come January.  It’s not a bad idea, but it’s born of fear, not reason.

I don’t look very leader-like at the moment.  unshaved, wearing a hoodie that shows my chest hair and low cut jeans.  I think I look pretty cool.  Maybe even attractive, but not like mentor material.

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Yesterday I accomplished much of what I set out to do.  But not all, at little fault of my own.  I couldn’t find The Secretary of State after church, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to her.  I’ll have to send an email to her today about meeting my predecessor.

The Boys were not available for brunch, so I went straight home.  I did buy a half kilo of Guatemalan coffee for my parents first.

I applied to the mentoring organization, doing it quickly to avoid the doubt that would have followed, then collected my references.  One had to be from an employer, so that’s the Saint.  His response to my asking his permission was “Sure, feel free…”  It was the ellipse that makes me wonder about that reaction.  The King also agreed to recommend me.  I was a little worried about him, but he seemed very open to the idea.  I don’t think he’s deceiving me.  Jess is my last reference.  My reluctance there is that she doesn’t live locally, and that may look bad.  But I think she would be able to convince them that that isn’t an issue.

Boy Scouts didn’t happen.  The local council’s website is horrible.  Impossible to find information on volunteering.  Maybe that’s on purpose, because they don’t want random people.  People like me, basically.

FAFSA’s done, though.

So for today.  Groceries, CCs, Laundry, Oil change is done, practice, more boy scouts, and finally, financial institutions.

***

Alrighty.  Not a bad showing for a chronic lazy bum.  I applied to college, went grocery shopping, got my oil and wiper blades changed and called my bank to get information about how to transfer my investments to their brokerage service.

I have not folded nor finished my laundry, practiced or volunteered as a boy scout leader.  If I can get my courage up, I’ll go to the scout meeting down the street at 7:30 tonight and get that last one done.  I’ll fold laundry before bed tonight.  I think I’ve lost on practicing though.  Now I’m going to do more stuff that I don’t need to do and make a youtube video.

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Right back into things.  I got home around 6 last night, went to BBM’s house to watch a TV show, and now I’m on a one hour break, back at work, pulling a double.  Joy.

On the other hand, I don’t have work tomorrow or Monday, and not until noon on Tuesday.  A little worried about Tuesday, though, since I have my first rehearsal with the choir Sue recommended me for that night at 8.  I need to make sure that I’ll be out of work absolutely no later than 6.  Preferably 5.

But, in the interest of starting off on the right foot, I’m going to outline what needs to happen before Tuesday since I’m not resolved to manage my time well.  Maybe if I put in in writing here, I’ll keep myself to it.  I’ll feel like I’m letting  down more than myself, which I’ve proven I am more than willing to do.

On Monday AM (preferably before 10) I will get the oil changed and new wiper blades.  Long overdue.  Later in the day Monday I need to practice.  I’m not going to set an interval since I won’t stick to it anyway, but practicing needs to happen.  Right after the oil change.

Sunday PM I will do further research into the technology programs at various CCs.  It’s looking like a diploma program in networking from the community college in the next county over.  I need to start the application process as well.  This will need to carry over into Monday as well, since I want to call the colleges and talk to people there about options and financial aid.

Financial aid.  I can start filling out the FAFSA on Sunday.

And finally, the Boy Scouts.  I need to begin that process Sunday as well.  If I need recommendations then I can’t finish it, but I can get most of it done.  And start the application process for the mentoring program as well.

So.  Sunday:
10:00 The Citadel. I need to talk to the Secretary of State about sitting down with the old assistant before the end of the year.
1:00 Maybe brunch? Wouldn’t be bad to skip this week.
3:00 or as soon as I get home. Boy Scout and mentoring apps. Followed by FAFSA, then research into programs of study.
When finished: TV

Monday:
9:30 Oil change
11:00 Practice
1:00 Call CCs to talk about study.
2:30

Have to go back to work.  Will finish later.

There was something I needed to remember…

…but I forgot it.

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A plan is starting to take shape in my mind.  A goal.  A direction.  I need to write it down to sort it out and to stop myself forgetting.  It will be nice to have direction if I approve the plan and put it into action.

The goal is to move to England with a job lined up.  I sort of have two paths before me.  One of stability and one of dynamicy.  (I know that’s not really a word.)  I can stay where I am.  Get comfortable.  If I do that, I may eventually end up with some semblance of a music career, but I doubt anything great will happen.

The other option is to take myself outside of comfort.  Do something new to inspire me to greater things.  That doesn’t have to be a move to England, and I hate to leave this country just as Barack Obama takes power, just as “my side” has won the election, but if I don’t do it now, it will only get harder.  I must follow the example of my friend who went to China.

So.  The plan.  It involves:
– intense voice study with my voice teacher.
– coaching with two able coaches in my area. One famous.
– maybe some lessons with The Tenor’s teacher.
– finding a roommate.
– getting an associate’s degree in IT.
– attending a prestigious music festival.
– Singing as much as I can.
– Finding employment and housing in England to arrive to.

Let’s start with that last one.  I can kill three birds with one stone if I get a job as a lay clerk at a cathedral, church or chapel.  Not only is it employment, but many offer housing as well, and I would get to sing with a fabulous men and boy’s choir, which has been a dream of mine since I was 13.

While I’m aiming for the stars, I may as well throw in some sort of job working with the boys of that choir in a more supervisory capacity.  In order to increase my competitiveness for such a position, I’ll add a few more to-dos:
– become a Boy Scout leader.
– become a volunteer with a youth mentoring organization.

Obviously, this isn’t an easy list to accomplish.  My time will have to be more tightly managed.  I’ll need to find fun in the journey, and not in the spaces between the steps.

One of the local community colleges is obviously a good place to start for the IT degree.

***

My father and I just had a long, nice conversation.  Talked about everything from the cause of higher humidity on land vs. ocean to voice change, karaoke, computers and countertenors.  He suggested that I take classes in the specific areas of computer technology that interest me rather than pursue a third lesser degree to the degrees I already possess.

Priorities when I get home involve:

– getting out of debt.
– gathering information about local community colleges.
– reconnecting with the coaches.
– submitting applications to become a leader and a mentor.
– cultivating relationships that can provide references for jobs involving children.
– find information about the music festival and apply.

I need to become more involved with the Citadel’s choirs for the second to last point in that list.

To accomplish all this I will need to make sacrifices, obviously.  World of Warcraft is out.  Sadly.  I like it, but I don’t.  It’s fun, and it’s good, but it’s boring and it’s bad.  BBM will be sad.

…I’ve lost my focus.  Good thing I got down what I did.

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