Gay cubs and bears

Published in:September-October issue.

BEAR IDENTITY is inked into my flesh now. I turned fifty in August and, rather than marking my small midlife crisis with an affair (too complicated) or a fancy car (too expensive), I opted for a tattoo sleeve, which took months to conclude. Among the many symbols of sufficient import to me to wear permanently on my skin is a bear paw, a big one covering the inside of my upper left arm. This visual identification with the male lover bear subculture seems timely, for appears to be my Annus Ursi, Year of the Bear. Recently, I read at a book reception for the anthology Bears in the Wild: Hot and Hairy Fiction, as part of the Saints & Sinners GLBTQ Literary Festival in New Orleans. In mid-July, I’m scheduled to study at two events during Bear Week in Provincetown, and in late July I’ll be attending, for the first time, Mountain Bear Madness, a gathering in Roanoke, Virginia, about an hour from Pulaski, the small mountain town where my partner John and I have settled.

Many straight folks are clueless of the bear subculture. Hardly a surprise,