After the first month of hanging out with Bug I got on a plane and flew by myself to Atlanta. I was off to a gay men’s spiritual retreat called the Gay Spirit Visions Conference. The GSV came 
out of a grassroots movement in the late eighties where gay men in the south-eastern U.S. states came together to support each other through the beginning of the AIDS epidemic. The GSV had come to my consciousness through reading about it, particularly in Mark Thompson’s amazing book Gay Soul. I had read a couple of the biographies where the men talked about the GSV conference.
After my flight from Vancouver, I was greeted at the Atlanta airport by a new friend that I’d met at another unrelated event in Tennessee the previous Spring. My friend drove us across northern Georgia to North Carolina where we were off to a Unitarian retreat center nestled up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. We arrived under the shroud of darkness and fell into our twin beds to sleep until the sun woke us a few short hours later.
I had a wonderful four days filled with workshops, lectures and making new friends. Even though I’d only known Bug for a month or so, I was really conscious about how amazing it would be to bring him to this place and this group of men. All the cabins were accessible, the dining hall, there were slatted ramps running all over the land connecting the buildings to each other. Despite everything being built on a mountain, it was an ideal setting; I could see Bug being here.
As Bug’s and my one year anniversary approached, news started going out on the web about registering for the up-and-coming Gay Spirit Visions Conference. I asked Bug if he was interested in going. He said he was.
The organizers had set up an incentive program several years earlier to encourage young men to attend the conference. Men under thirty were eligible for a scholarship and a nominal travel bonus to attend the conference. Since Bug was twenty-nine and his thirtieth birthday was two days after the conference ended, we applied for and received one of these scholarships. Also when I put in that I was his caregiver and Bug needed me to travel with him, the generous men gave me a discount on my registration fee. This helped make the trip more affordable.
Bug and I drove to Seattle, as I had gotten really cheap tickets out of SeaTac. We stayed one night in the Quality Inn near the airport and with my car parked in a secured lot, it was still cheaper than flying from home.
We rented a car in Atlanta where we stayed one night in a hotel. The next morning we traveled northwest to the Mountain Retreat Center and arrived in the early afternoon. The conference technically began with dinner followed by a meet and greet and information session in the building next to the dining-hall connected by one of the many ramps .
Bug and I found our assigned cabin. Bug was a little chilled as it wasn’t terribly warm on the mountain. I tucked him, fully dressed under the covers of his bed while I unpacked the car. Since our cabin was only equipped with a shower and Bug had the love of the tub, the search to seek out a bathtub was on.
When I wheeled Bug over to the dining-hall for our first meal, we were a bit early and the hall wasn’t open. Some men were gathered on a deck jutting off from one end of the building. I introduced Bug to some of the familiar faces I recognized from the previous year. One man was crocheting these colourful skull-caps. He had a brown paper shopping bag full of his creations. He said they were free for the taking. Bug gave me a look, that he wanted one. I dug through the bag and tried a couple different ones on him. He settled on a black and white patterned cap. At dinner Bug and I was greeted by a room full of more familiar faces. Hugs were exchanged and all the men wanted to know who I’d brought with me. Many of the men were aware that Bug was coming as they had to OK his scholarship and these men were eager to meet him.
I think Bug was a little overwhelmed by all the attention, but he was gracious, smiled and said hello. He answered some of the questions put to him about how he liked the facility and how was our trip.
At the multi-purpose room once the president of the group outlined the agenda for the conference, all the chairs were quickly folded up and whisked away. Now was time for the greeting part of the evening. We did introductory exercises so that the men could interact with each other. One of the exercises was to look deeply into the eyes of the man standing before you. I tried to keep focused on myself, but I was really aware of Bug and wondering how he was handling this foreign intimate experience. There was a short line-up in front of Bug’s chair and one by one men kneeled before Bug and looked into those beautiful brown eyes. Bug had a big grin on his face, a reflex of being a little uncomfortable, but he stayed present with this exercise and gave his attention as best as he could to each of the strangers bent before him.
Later I had teary eyed men come and embrace me, thanking me for bringing Bug to the conference.
On evening there was a fashion/talent show. I was prepared to read a piece I’d written about Bug’s and my first meeting. There was a room in the multi-purpose building full of drag. I found this polka dotted top, pants and a hat with a polka-dotted band on it. I asked Bug if he wanted to dress up for the fashion show. He laughed and said why not.
It was a blast to get him dressed up, wheel him down the aisle and pull his chair up onto the stage for him to be witnessed in his crazy dotted getup. There were several outrageous outfits and the room was thunderous with applause, but I imagined it was mostly for my Bug.
One other night was a dance. The music was great, the vibe was high and everyone was there to have a good time. I yanked Bug out of his chair, pulling him to his feet and danced him around the floor several times. It was quite a workout for me and I was a slippery sweaty mess by the end of the evening. When Bug and I got back to Vancouver one of the fellows from the conference e-mailed me with a poem he’d written about Bug and me.
Prom Night (for Bug and Stitch)
There are as many ways to dance
as there are dancers.
Raising with arms, lifting with eyes,
smiling the beat into being,
the couple spins and pulses,
open and secret,
intimate, sacred.
Each move is sweet
with infinite possibility
and the slow, rich simmer
that men achieve
whenever their souls touch.
Everyone on the floor
sees them.
I was so proud of Bug and how he took an unfamiliar situation and stayed as present as he could with it.
Until the next time...
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