Hot Shvitsy Rabbi Sex | A New Year’s Resolution

Like many ‘mos coming into 2009 I felt like I was in the k-hole equivalent of holiday party overdose. I had always been on a lot of gay mailing lists, but Facebook took my social calendar into Fabulous 2.0! After joining every possible gay group, fan page and cause, the year-end invites poured in. Combine those proper invites with party poaching (e.g. inviting yourself to a Facebook Event that one of your 700 “friends” is attending) and it’s easy to hit three parties a night with tons of free booze along the way. With the economy caving in and primal instincts of hording surfacing, my friends and I were quite recessionista and never missed an open bar. The culmination of the holiday season left me more exhausted on January 1st than 200 lb. Oprah after running a marathon.

I wanted to tone things down a bit, enrich myself and make friends that I can see outside of the party circuit. A search of “gay culture” yielded articles on bears, poppers and old queens bitching about how young queens are cruising online instead of the parks. Seeing the article written by an old queen made me think of Oscar Wilde, a really old queen, and the bookstore with his namesake on Christopher Street. Sure enough there was a book club there. Unfortunately, it was a lesbian book club which had a January selection called “Bittersweet“. I have no idea what the book is about, but visions of the former rather than the latter during the book club discussion jolted through my mind, so I quickly moved on.

As I searched and searched for a gay book club in Manhattan, I started feeling good about the idea. I imagined myself in a room full of nerdy ivy types with well pressed clothing and reserved mannerisms. I reveled at the idea of discussing biographies of famous dead gay folks like Bayard Rustin or Rock Hudson. I then tried to figure what stance I’d take if we were to discuss a book on the consumerist patterns of gays. For once I’d have a chance to discuss more than Britney’s new album, who’s got a Fire Island share with who or how much of a hot mess so-and-so was last weekend. I e-mailed twenty of my gay friends with my brilliant idea. Most of them were not that resolution savvy and quickly changed the topic to where we were going to party over the weekend.

Meanwhile, two did seem game: Julius and Robbie. Julius was no big surprise. He’s always been the cerebral type and hasn’t been out on the scene much since getting trapped by a man. Robbie, on the other hand, is my constant partner in crime. We both finished part-time graduate degrees in May and had really taken our freedom to the fullest during the second half of the year. He, too, probably needs a little more grounding in the new year.

Shockingly after much googling, I did not that find that many book clubs in Manhattan and only one gay club biggaybookgroup.com. The website was definitely no frills. I gather there was never any big gay Dreamweaver books on the reading list. The upcoming book selection was just what I had desired – “Art and Sex in Greenwich Village: A Memoir of Gay Literary Life After Stonewall” by Felice Picano. I’d get both a history lesson and be able to form an opinion on the state of the world today versus yestergay. Unfortunately the meeting date in January was too soon to purchase the book and finish reading it. After all, being in the minority, I do still have a job on Wall Street and don’t want to cram for my first book club assignment. Another resolution of mine is to be less Type A. I want my first book club assignment to be slow and gentle. I’ll save the hardcover and fast interludes for when I’m more experienced!

So next up in February – “Light Fell” by Evan Fallenberg. The opening description: “Joseph left behind his entire life—his wife Rebecca, his five sons, his father, and the religious Israeli farming community where he grew up—when he fell in love with a man, the genius rabbi Yoel Rosenzweig”. Great, my only gay book club option is “Brokeback Bethlehem”! I shuddered at the thought of trashy pulp gay sex scenes taking place secretly in the Kibbutz. The image of a fit Israeli military type was enticing, but the later section about the main character’s 50th birthday reminded me of my eye doctor and was a total buzz kill. Frantically, I e-mailed Julius and Robbie about my dilemma. I suggested a non-gay book club at the NY Public Library, even though I don’t have a library card or even buy used books. Julius, though, was steadfast and practical. We’d get through this book in order to participate in the Big Gay Book Group. That way we could decide if we stick with it or mingle with the likes of public library folks that can’t afford to buy books. As I finish this blog entry, the book is in the mail. Next up the book review, sure to include some hot shvitsy cut rabbi sex!

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