God, the West Village, and an Ode to Bears

Church was great yesterday. The scripture was the parable of the laborors in the field (the guys who start at 8am make the same as the guys who start at 5pm even though they're all done work at 6pm). The Old Testament passage was Noah and the bush. The sermon was okay, but with so much on which to meditate, I did better on my own. Thinking about the love of God. Poured out on all of us. "I am persuaded to believe that nothing can separate us from the love of God," said Saint Paul. A lot of people hate Paul for one reason or another. I find it hard to hate someone who says things like that.

After church, I had one of those great days in the West Village that I love. I had eggs at Espresso Bar. Bought anti-bacterial soap and Q-tips at the drug store (still cleaning Lake Michigan out of my piercings). Bought tea. Went to the gym. Had pizza. Hit the Dug Out for Beer Blast.

Can I just say, I love Bears. There are no bad ones, I swear. Lovers of life, with all of it's pleasure and pain. Revelers in the sensuous. Such joy. Such love.

For the un-initiaited, the Dug Out is a bar down at the end of Christopher Street. On Sunday afternoons and early evenings, they have a beer blast. It's packed. With Bears. I mean packed. Working your way from the door to the bar (a distance of about 15 feet) can take twenty minutes, and involves intimate bodily contact with probably fifty big, sweaty, shirtless men. In any other bar, I'd be headed for the door. But the Dug Out is different. It's good feelings all around. You see a hot guy. You give him a 'Woof,' work his nips, make out for a while. Taste and see the goodness. And because of the energy in the room, every guy is a hot guy.

I've only experienced this vibe with Bears. I've never been to a Bear event, but I'd sure like to go. I imagine a sort of wonderful bacchanalia. It's my understanding that Renaissance Faire's are popular with Bears. This makes perfect sense to me. I've never been to a Renaissance Faire where I didn't have to be carried out after all of that supping and quaffing.

On the whole, Bears seem to be total romantics, too. A few times in my life, I've watched two grown men fall head over heals in love with each other. All those men have been Bears.

Alas for me though: I like Bears, but Bears like other Bears. No, I'm built like an Armani model. And that just won't do at all. And I'm not all that hairy, either. Having a really bushy moustache counts for a lot, but I don't know that I'll ever be able to attain true Bear-hood.

Here's a Bear site.
Here's another one.
Here's a Bear event.
Some local Bears.
Oh cool! Here's a book on Bears I'll be reading soon.
Bear resources. Great site.

Go Bears!




And Cubs! Oh my God, are more desireable men imaginable? Big, life-lovin', romantic... and submissive!