Family Picture

For spring break a couple of months ago, my ex-wife decided to take our two youngest children on a road trip to New Orleans. By saying “decided,” I mean to underscore that she didn’t consult me, or even tell me of her plans. She hasn’t said a word to me since Christmas. I heard of the planned trip when the kids mentioned it.

The trip took them through my hometown. Lucy asked our youngest daughter to contact my parents to ask if they could stop by for a visit. Of course, my parents agreed, and offered to arrange for other family members to visit as well. It would be the first time Lucy had seen my family since we separated eight years ago. We assumed this was a nice gesture. Presumably, Lucy had no special interest in being with my family, but she wanted to allow the children to see their Southern folks.

Afterward, Mom called to say that Lucy had been surprisingly pleasant. I was glad the trip went well. I had been a bit suspicious of it.

Last weekend, I went home for my high school reunion. I was sitting with my family when someone brought up how big my children have become since their last trip South. I said I had heard good things about the visit from the kids. I was impressed that my middle son had wanted to take so long a trip to see New Orleans as it recovers from Katrina and the Gulf oil spill.

My brother Frank looked at Mom. “Well, that’s not why they made the trip,” he said. He looked at me. “You want to know the real reason she came down here?”

“Do tell.”

“Brother, Lucy came down her to tell us about your blog.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope, he’s not,” Mom said. “She sat right there and told us you had a blog and were having all kinds of sex and writing about it.”

I shook my head. “Wow.”

“Yeah, she told us about the blog—what’s it called, ‘One Life, Take Two?’” Frank went on. “She said she found it and read about the things you do now. She took me over to Mom’s laptop and typed in the whatcha-ma-call-it and showed it to me.” He laughed. “You’ve got some hot pictures on there, man.”

“She typed in the URL for you? On Mom's laptop? Jesus. Well, what did you say, Mom?”

“Well, I told her I always knew you were a good writer. Your Dad said it sounds like you’re having fun.”

“That’s it?”

“Pretty much. Then I asked of they wanted to spend the night. They were planning to drive a few more hours, but I said that didn’t make any sense when we’ve got room.”

I stood up and put my hand on my brother’s shoulder. “Well, sorry you had to find out that way. Obviously, I didn’t see a reason to tell you. So know you know the dirt on why Lucy felt empowered to spend a year and two-hundred-thousand dollars chasing me through court.”

“There wasn’t any reason to tell us!” Mom said. “We don’t care what you do like that. You’re not married and you’ve been grown up for a long time.”

“Thanks.” I thought a moment. “Wait, you’re not still reading it, are you?”

“I read a little bit to see what she was talking about,” Mom said. “But honey, I don’t need to read about your sex life.”

“I mostly liked the pictures,” Frank laughed.

I can only imagine Lucy’s disappointment in my family’s reaction. Planning her drive to New Orleans, she must have rehearsed many scripts in her mind. When she outed me to her own family, Lucy found they rallied around her, severing ties to me and writing checks to her attorneys. When she outed me to our children—the youngest of whom was then eight years old—Lucy found they were frightened and confused as their mother wove dark tales about the father they adored.

My family shrugged off Lucy’s revelation and offered a place to stay for the night. Privately, they now told me, they felt pretty sorry for her. I suppose that’s how I feel about it, too.

It would be right to be angry. I began having sex at an early age, with males and females, and recognized my bisexuality at age nineteen. I went to college the following year and never returned home to live. I saw no reason to come out to my parents, particularly after I entered into monogamy and marriage with a woman. Now, as I near fifty years of age, Lucy took it onto herself to out me to my family. She did so by making it possible for them to read about my sex and sexuality in whatever ways I’ve reported it here.

It must have been a long, bitter drive back to New York.

“I still love him," Lucy told my family, “but I don’t like what he’s become.” As my Mom said in relating this to me, “I don’t know what that is, but it’s not love.”

Clearly, my family knows a few things about love.

A week before I returned home to my high school reunion, I attended the high school graduation of my eldest son. With our younger children seated behind us, Lucy kept her gaze trained to the stage, avoiding eye contact with me.

After the ceremony, everyone filed out of the auditorium to the lobby and street beyond, proud parents and family searching to congratulate the new graduates. We found Jason. Lucy pushed ahead to kiss his cheek, standing on her toes to do so. Collie shook his brother’s hand, smirking at his own staged formality. Lillie affected disinterest, saying, “Um, hello? Everyone just graduated. Why does he get all the attention?”

I laughed at her as I pulled Jason into a bear hug. “I love you, baby boy.” I pulled back and grabbed his shoulders. “And now, goodness, you’ve got two months until going off to college.”

“I know, “ he said, beaming as he does, his lips struggling to restrain a smile. “Guess I should start packing.”

“Not just yet,” I smiled, hugging him again.

We made our way to the sidewalk, which teemed with clusters of people, each centered on a graduate in a blue gown. I followed as Jason navigated through the crowd in search of his friends. Lucy and the kids trailed me. I took photos of Jason and his friends I shook hands with their parents, congratulating them as they congratulated me.

We found an empty space. Lillie goofed with her brother. I took more photos. Lucy had forgotten her camera, and I had promised to share mine.

Lucy came forward with Collie. “Let’s take a family picture,” she instructed our children. She gathered them together, wrapped an arm around Collie and looked at me expectantly. “Everybody say ‘cheese,’” she smiled.

I raised the camera to snap Lucy’s family picture.

A woman tapped my shoulder. “Would you like me to take a picture so you can all be in it?”

I smiled and handed her the camera. “Thanks, that’s very nice.” I showed her how to use the camera and took my place in the lineup. I beamed at the camera, our children arrayed between their mother and father. I thanked the woman and took back my camera. I turned to Jason. “Do you have any plans? Maybe we can all get an early dinner or something.”

“Um, no, no plans.” He paused. “Oh, I just realized I haven’t eaten today.”

“Oh, so let’s fix that.” I looked around. “Did you see where your mother went? Where’s Collie and Lillie?”

Jason peered around the families surrounding us. “Huh, I don’t see them.”

“They probably went inside to use the bathroom or something. I’ll wait by the door while you talk to your friends.”

Jason ambled over to pose in another photograph. I made my way to the door. Twenty minutes later, Jason joined me as the crowd thinned. “You see Mom?” he asked.

I shrugged. “No sign. You neither, I assume.”

“No.” He looked around.

“Why don’t you call her, then?”

He raised his gown to retrieve the phone from him pocket, pushed a few buttons and raised it to his ear. “Voice mail,” he reported. “I’ll try Collie.” Voice mail again.

“Maybe we should stand on the corner. Maybe they’re at the other exit looking for us.” We moved. They weren’t there. A few minute passed. I suggested Jason try his mother again.

“Hello?” He nodded to tell me she answered. “What did you say? . . . oh, okay . . . so what should I do? . . . okay, see you in a minute.” He hung up and look at me. “She said Lillie wanted to go home.” He began to walk down the street.

“Oh, okay. I’ll walk with you to say goodbye to them.”

“No, actually, I’m not meeting them. They’re already at home.”

“They left?” Not a word to me or our graduating son. “Okay, well, hmm . . . did you want to get a bite, or . . .”

“I’m hungry,” he said as we passed a diner. “But she said I should come home, and I can just eat there. Where are you going?”

“I guess I’m going to the subway.”

“Me too.” We walked along, talking about the graduation and fell to talking about movies. We rode the subway together until he reached his stop. I kissed him as the train door opened. “I love you, son. Congratulations.”

“Thanks, Dad.” He waved as the train pulled away.

I went home and downloaded the photographs. I sent them to Lucy’s family, my family, the kids and various friends. I posted our family picture on Facebook.

Madeline sent me a note, congratulating me on the graduation. “Nice-looking family, Jefferson. Lucy sure looks miserable, though.”

“She didn’t say a word to me, start to finish, and left without a word to Jason or me,” I replied. “She must’ve been pained to share that photograph with me.”

I may not like what’s Lucy’s become, but I do feel sorry for her.

Podcasts

If you’d like to hear my smut stories told in my own dulcet tones, you can! The newest installment of Kevin Allison’s Risk! Show, entitled “Perverse?,” features the story of the first accidental orgy after the end of my marriage. Listen to Volume Nine of the Standard Issues podcast to hear the woeful tale of my most disastrous date in college. Both are available as free downloads on iTunes.

Enjoy!

The Upper Floor

The Upper Floor

Abby Winters

Kylie

Sex and Submission

Gia DiMarco

Expanding Anyway

Morning Teleportation

Abby Winters

Dahlia and Hayden

Abby Winters

Holli

You Don't Like Rock n' Roll

Hunx and His Punx

I kinda think you must be retarded.

Training of O

Training of O

HNT

Walking the High Line with Danny Wylde.

Standard Issues

This month the Standard Issues live show takes on Disasters! Calamities! Horrors great and small!

On hand to relive moments when the shit hits the fan will be a collection of brilliant story tellers including, but not limited to:

Jefferson (The Earth Destroying Asteroid)

Jennifer (Global Warming) Glick

Jeff (Titanic the Sequel) Scherer

Ben (Deli Out Of Lox) Lillie

Allison (Ishtar) Downey

Cyndi (Prom) Freeman

. . . and our mystery guest pulled from the hat! So, possibly, you.

All this and your host Brad (Was That Shellfish a Little Off?) Lawrence.

Tuesday, March 22, 8:00-11:00pm
Pacific Standard
82 Fourth Avenue
At the corner of Saint Marks
Brooklyn, New York

TOLD

You are cordially invited to the twenty-ninth installment of Told, a monthly storytelling show at Under Saint Marks Theater. This month we beat the trail with "Politics as Unusual," stories with backdrops of elections, protests and feisty government hearings. We try hard not to be timely with TOLD, but it seems that with all the news in Wisconsin and the Middle East, we'll have to settle for being relevant this one month.

With stories by the highly electable, constituent-serving:

Jim O'Grady (WNYC, New York Times, This American Life)

Cammi Climaco (Ask Me Stories)

Brad Lawrence (Standard Issues)

Jefferson (One Life Take Two)

Plus interludes by campaign veteran and former speechwriter to President Clinton, Ben Yarrow.

Rock the vote.

TOLD #29: Politics as Unusual
Monday, March 21, 7:00 PM
Under St. Mark's Theater, 94 Saint Marks Place
Between First Avenue and Avenue A
Pay what you will
Join us afterward at Grassroots Bar

Hosted by Seth Lind, Production Manager for This American Life.
Produced by Heidi Grumelot
Presented by Horse Trade Theater Group

Book of the Month

Lovage

You are the griddle. I am the meat.

Abby Winters

Waterfall Girls

Ravenous Readings

Ravenous Romance™, a leading online publisher of erotic romance novels and short stories, has announced the second night of monthly readings at the New York City literary hot-spot Happy Ending Lounge, a funky two-story club that was once a massage parlor, located at 302 Broome Street. Ravenous Nights is scheduled for Friday, March 4, 8 pm to 10 pm, and it is free of charge.

The lineup for March 4 includes:

Laura Antoniou, best-selling erotic author of the Marketplace series;

D.L. King, best-selling erotic romance author;

Kristabel Reed, Ravenous Romance ménage-a-trios author;

Jefferson, well-known sex blogger and author of male-male short stories for RR anthologies.

The lineup for Friday, April 1 will be announced in the coming weeks.

In celebration of Ravenous Nights, Ravenous Romance will offer free copies of the Ravenous Romance male-male anthology Manthology to the first one hundred people to download it. In addition, Ravenous Romance will give a free Ravenous Romance drink coaster to each attendee and the Happy Ending Lounge will create a special “Ravenous” cocktail that will only appear on the menu during Ravenous Nights.

LISTING INFORMATION:
Ravenous Nights
Friday, March 4, 2011
8 pm to 10 pm, Free of charge
Location: Happy Ending Lounge
302 Broome Street (at Forsyth Street)
(212) 334-9676

Biochemistry

When I began organizing sex parties eight years ago, part of my impetus for doing so came from the necessity of filling a void. To the best of my knowledge, there were no ongoing parties welcoming of bisexual men. Most events for men and women held to a rigid double standard: women were presumed to be bisexual, whether or not they were, and men were prohibited from touching other men. My friends and I wanted a space where we could be open about our sexuality and so we created a space of our own.

Now, the good folks behind Chemistry have started Biochemistry, a party for bisexual/bi-curious men and the women who love them. I plan to be a regular and I’m talking it up with my friends.

Come join us! You need to be a Chemistry member to attend. Fill out the form below and submit it to thelist@chemistry-nyc.com. Do so now and perhaps I’ll see you at the next party.

Tell ‘em Jefferson sent you.

Thanks for your interest in Chemistry! Chemistry is a private membership club. We'd like to get to know a bit about you. Please answer the following questions thoughtfully. Your responses will not be shared with anyone. Note that each individual must submit an application.


What is your first name?


What decade were you born in?


If you are single, tell us how you feel about that. If you are in a committed relationship, tell us about it.


Do you plan on attending your first Chemistry party with a date? If so, please give his/her first name and email address.


Tell us about yourself (work, goals, interests, dreams, etc.). How would you describe your personality?


What is your favorite non-sexual hobby, past or present? Why?


What is your philosophy on sex? What role does sexuality play in your life?


Have you been to on-premise erotic parties before? If so, which one(s), and what did you like/dislike about them? If not, what is motivating you to attend one now?


What elements and characteristics would make a perfect night at Chemistry for you?


How did you find out about Chemistry? Please be specific (i.e., which friend, article, etc.). Jefferson's "One Life, Take Two" blog


Would you like to receive invites to our New York parties, our Philadelphia parties, or both?


Please send a G-rated photo.

Sixteen Shades of Black and Blue

Fujiya & Miyagi

I'll have what he's having. Creepy.

New York Confidential

Join me this Monday, February 21 for New York Confidential: Stories Exposed where I'll be telling a story of champagne dreams and cavier wishes with, of course, a fair dollop of smutty roe.

My upcoming storytelling events include:

Friday, March 4, 8pm: Ravenous Readings at Happy Ending Lounge.

Tuesday, March 22, 8pm: Standard Issues at Pacific Standard.

I regularly throw my name into the hat at The Moth, where anyone can be chosen to tell a story. I announce booked appearances and planned Moth nights on my Twitter; subscribe for updates.

See you there.

Abby Winters

Natasha M.