The glamorous party life of a young 21.5 year old gay socialite comes with many fabulous rewards, most of them plastic, but can be such a drag when it comes to spiritual fulfillment. Where can one go for a little internal essence and personal divinity? Old confidant, gay studies director for the Wright Institute, John Aquilina, suggested Feng Shui or the third annual MORE for Gay Men conference held at Roosevelt University. Water elements sounding far too much like water sports, I opted for the latter.
The breakout sessions included topics like, Being Out and Successful, Gay Spiritual Traditions and Identity and Growth, but I skipped the Out Couple's Challenge as I just couldn't relate to that whole couple thing. Really, what is that? Leaving the conference refreshed and reborn, I took with me the words of Ivy League professor, author of a bajillion gay spirit novels and keynote speaker Andrew Harvey who empowers us to "return to the feminine." I'm going to flail my limp wrists with the best of them and dare someone to say something about it.

Who am I kidding? I love water sports and skipped down to Cell Block with a taste for beer, beef jerky and rawhide. Yet dalliance was on the D-L that night as the Lakeview leather bar turned it down a notch, but only a very small notch, to sponsor the Rainbow World Fund's charity performance featuring the Lickity Split Cheerleaders, Jinx Titanic, star of stage and pornographic DVD Brad McGuire and Big Man Mike in a feathered jockstrap. With all proceeds going toward Tsunami Relief, who knew rough trade leather daddies could be so giving? (Well I did, but that's totally unrelated)

Similar events for South Asia's aid took place the same week at Hunters in Elk Grove showing how the most marginalized group in the nation can come together not only for its own, but for others in need as well. How cool is that?

Still, I was thinking maybe I shouldn't have been so crass when ditching the MORE's Out Couple's Challenge. February's mid month Hallmark Heart Holiday was soon approaching and my dance card was totally blank. Perhaps there's something to be said about the co-dependant chocolate rose teddy bear crap of life partnership. But I doubt it.
So I exfoliated my face, sucked in my gut and headed out to a secret VD mixer with over 300 plus eligible bachelors in attendance and a quintuple of topless cupids delivering love notes from would be admirers. I even got one too, which would have been really endearing had I not sent it to myself in order to look cool.

And I'm standing at the bar when one of the event organizers approaches me and engages in the standard PR to Press talk that we in the biz just love because it gets us free drinks. After the whole, thanks for coming, glad to be here, nice shoes chit chat he goes on to say, "And there's something I have to tell you." Always a very promising opener by a dapper well dressed man with blonde hair and a great smile, I arch my brow giving him that "oh really" glance and egg him to go on. "Blah blah blah, take lots of pictures, blah blah," I'm really not listening, but I do hear as clear as pee after ten martinis, "Don't print any of it."

Apparently the whole gig started as a small gypsy party and though it's open to everyone, they want to keep it word of mouth and are not down with the public promoting. He explains this as he passes me a business card complete with a graphically designed logo, his name, position, contact information and a printed tag line imploring the card holder to visit their webpage in order to "learn more." As an uptown swinger hip to the new science, I can roll with what he's saying, but as a columnist being offered a handful of promo material that can't be used for promos, I just don't get it.

But far be it for me to impose on anyone's Big Gay Cocktail ­ er Party. I'm a class act. Yet word of mouth is still something entirely different. E-mail me at JPsVelvetRopes@aol.com and I'll tell you all about it.