BillyC

Profile update: mid 2023. Historically . . . 

The world changed the morning of 9/11/2001, and the world outside of Manhattan and Alexandria sat glued to their televisions in shocked horror. Before that it was 2000 when one of our noble destroyers was attacked, seventeen servicemembers' lives were senselessly lost, a weak commander in chief did nothing and invited the massive loss of American lives the following year. Before that it was 1994 and the bombing of the World Trade Center; the country's defense and intel as a whole failed, and again a weak president did nothing. 

In 2020 it was a different enemy, from an aggressor whose intent was subsumed into the chaos of ineptitude. The world was the victim, not only the United States. We survived with scars, emotional and economic. We're Americans; we're the greatest nation ever to exist in the history of the Earth; and we're the greatest people, full of ourselves, but rightly so. We'll continue to grow. It was my pleasure to defend this country and my fellow citizens. 

Yet I am, still, just your average, gay, retired Marine, now immersed in the business world and focused on being a good husband and always-learning dad to both our adopted college age son and to my husband’s early-30s doctor son and his doctor husband. I'm also the same slut I've always been . . . and, along with my husband, always will be. We're all complex; it's what we contribute to the world that matters, not the labels we acquire, choose or suffer. 

I am blessed to have found a soul mate shortly after my retirement from the Corps at the beginning of 2012 after more than a quarter-century — at the ripe, old age of 45. Actually I thought I’d always be active duty and die with my boots on . . . until one day I had an epiphany and decided enough is enough. My husband is a rich attorney — no I didn't marry him because he's rich, in fact I very nearly refused to for that reason. He realized his lifelong aspiration to become a Federal Judge . . . and then decided to not be a judge any longer. In his case, with respect to that pursuit, he found that the having was not so rewarding as the wanting had promised. (I think Gene Roddenberry captured that sentiment in Star Trek TOS in an episode, "Amok Time" that aired in a rerun when I was 8 mos old — "After a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting." It stuck with me and made me not want. Then I grew up. I’ve only ever wanted the safety of my country and the good health of my family. Oh, and ass, of course! But my husband craved the judgeship and to follow in his dad's footsteps, those, probably, in equal doses. I suppose I can relate, as my late dad was a Marine before me. My husband’s a former Army Ranger, though he wasn’t a lifer as I thought I was before I abruptly resigned my commission. We're a great match, and he's given me a life I never dared dream of before he carefully reeled me in and engulfed me in his love.

We adopted my husband’s early teenaged nephew six years ago. I often think of these past years as my advanced dad training phase. Advanced because my husband came with a son in college, whom I’m proud to say is now a doctor, as is his husband as well. Our older son and soninlaw volunteered to devote their professional lives to COVID when the pandemic began. We are further blessed to have them healthy and continuing that pursuit of medicine.

We adopted our younger son out of horrific circumstances. We are the statistical anomalies — both of our “children” gay. Of my husband’s family of our sons’ generation 50% are gay. Apparently the gay gene runs strong in his family! Another blessing is that our younger son has all but completely shed the oppressive emotional scars of his life before a prominent joy in our lives. I’m a tough jarhead, and I’ve seen and been through a ton of shit; but take it from me — counseling and support are the keys to mental health and going it alone, toughing it out, are bullshit when there’s help to be had. Our younger son now is ensconced at one of the best universities in the world, a senior to be in the fall, playing varsity sports, academically successful. And he’s the sweetest man, who will contribute to the good of our world like his other father has and does. I envy them both.

This sounds a lot like The Brady Bunch, doesn’t it? I assure you — my husband’s and my life is far more Colt, Honcho, Sean Cody, Raging Stallion, Hot House etc.! I fucked my way though every hot ass I could find until I found the best, fortunately attached to the best man I’ve ever met. And, amazingly, he lowered his standards and took me as his. We now manage to have our sexcapades together. Mmmmm!

I have been a prodigious diarist since my father died when I was 12. Initially the journals' sole purposes were for me to give outlet to that emotional devastation; but soon they became my outlet for everything I experienced, then became a compulsion to capture for my later enjoyment all the details of the good, the bad, the indifferent, and a mechanism to move things out of my conscious and to move on.

My writing is mostly retelling of my own life and events . . . and most importantly our sexploits. I tried some fiction — not great I admit! — along the way. Although I don’t have the time nor the inclination to write for external consumption these days, I continue to marvel at those who do, the fellow writers whom I'm honored to call fellows.

When I joined this wonderful site, I was inspired by the stories of others, not only to continue picking pieces of my own journey from my journals to write up in externally-consumable form, but also to push myself to develop and post that short-lived fiction. Again, the fiction I produced is to be avoided if quality creativity is what you crave! Having said that, though, I find that my fictional characters often have very tiny amounts of people I know, often my husband and myself, which are either inherent in or influence them. Perhaps that is my revelation via the magic of composition, as I discovered that about those purely fictional characters and circumstances as I reread past installments. That, my readers and friends, is a Marine's version of shithouse existential philosophy! (We blow shit up; we're not known for great thinking.) 

We moved fulltime to our home in Hawaii from the East Coast at the onset of COVID. Best decision ever! Our parents, older sons (son and soninlaw) and best friend followed (though my husband's parents have since abandoned island life), so we have our own tribe here now and did through most of the pandemic. Again, we’re lucky men!

I'll close this epic profile update by giving some credit where it is due. Bjorn, our wonderful webmaster for GayDemon, is a saint, is a delightful correspondent, is HOT (oops, maybe I wasn't supposed to divulge I know that!) and deserves our thanks and support. And to Eric, who assists him (and possibly others) we all owe thanks for every click and every surge of blood to our cocks as we read! I want to continue to have this opportunity, so . . . seriously . . . support GayDemon and give Bjorn and co. your kudos — they’re deserved. 

I'll sign this off by saying that I hope our troubled nation, the nation I love and fought for during nearly three decades as a proud jarhead, could really use our support as well. We need to move forward, to heal, to progress and also to preserve. If you're an American, as I am a very proud citizen, whatever your political affiliation, I hope that you can bring your positive energy to bear so that we all can come together for all our benefit instead of continuing to move apart.