After having spent over a decade as a prominent personal trainer in San Francisco's gayest gyms, and serving as a fitness columnist for San Diego’s Rocket magazine, last year Erick Alvarez released his first full length book, “Muscles Boys: Gay Gym Culture” (Haworth Press, $19.95).

In this international bestseller for gay nonfiction, Erick looks at the gym as more than a place for health and fitness, but as a social institution.  He looks at the history of the male athletic ideal, exploring 2,500 years of gay influence and the evolution of modern bodybuilding, male body image, and muscle media— and how the influence of gay culture has helped create the ideal image of man, straight or gay.

In our interview, we speak about:

Just a little ad that I created to promote my electro play workshop at Passional Toys, 620 S. 5th Street, Philadelphia, on 3/20/09 from 7-9pm.

For more information, drop me a line or call Passional at 1-877-U-CORSET or to order tickets, check out www.fantasyworkshops.com.

Hope to see you there!

S

Twice last month I spoke at a local university, presenting a beginner’s guide to BDSM and the leather community and offering live demonstrations of the violet wand and fire play.   So while I may not get out to the bars nearly enough and am a lousy poster child for the Bike Stop Bar, the sponsor of my Mr. Philadelphia Leather title, I’m still making an effort at public outreach when it comes to raising awareness of leather community issues and education efforts around kink play. 

(Incidentally, due to business travel commitments, my hands-on workshop on electro stimulation toys at Passional Boutique also needed to be moved this month, from the original March 6 date to March 20… and it’s not too late to sign up!)

Although I suspect there would have been students in each college class who would have been willing subjects for the demonstrations, I brought “demo bottoms” to play it safe (my thanks to Eddie, Ed and Phil for their support and contributions, as well as thanks to my boy eryc for his input, assistance, love and constant support). 

I recorded the classes on video, which I figured would make a nice souvenir if desired for my volunteers, and maybe even make a good video podcast for a later date (to subscribe to my podcast on iTunes, just visit the iTunes store and search for “Scott Daddy” or “Leather Bound” and click the subscribe button).

After burning a DVD of the first presentation, and just to confirm that the video and audio were working as expected, I watched a minute or two of my opening remarks.  It was an interesting reality check.

In the past, when I found myself going back and forth on diets, I knew that I could not trust my perception of what I saw in the mirror.  When I looked at myself in the mirror, somehow what I saw was an image conjured in my mind more than what was physically in front of me. 

Snapshots, on the other hand, helped me to see myself as I truly was (or, at least, closer to how I really looked).  Luckily photographs were often far more kind than my own body image.

Needless to say, I’ve seen many photographs taken of me since winning my title back in late 2007, and I realize now that I’ve come to use these images to form a new (but still distorted) self concept: not thin, but certainly thinner than I used to be; confident, but not arrogant; masculine, maybe even a bit butch, although certainly short of the hyper-masculine look that some guys have that makes my jaw drop and salivary glands go into overdrive.  

In short, my self-concept changed from being an overweight, middle-aged Jew with excessive emotional baggage to someone who is quite average in appearance and temperament, reasonably well adjusted, and ordinary in most ways excepting sexual appetites.

And, I admit, as I continue to grow more comfortable in my skin and feel less of an outsider, there is a certain pleasure I take in being average and ordinary.

It hadn’t occurred to me until watching the video that since most people I know are straight, my concept of average is “straight acting/ appearing.”   Of course, for straights, it’s not “acting/appearing,” it simply is.

In fact, usually I cringe at that phrase, because it seems to me inherently hetero- and homophobic, based on stereotypes of how straights act and stereotypes about how gay people act in contrast to others.

So it was a bit surprising to watch my body language on the video and think, “hey, I’m pretty gay acting!”  Apparently there’s more gayness to me than my love of musical theater and sexual orientation.

A key element of my leather identity is a celebration of masculinity.  It’s important to me to look and feel masculine.  It is part of my core identity.

So you can imagine it was a small shock to watch myself give a presentation about leather while displacing weight on a hip, which can look rather womanly, or having my hand fall at an unflattering angle from my arm in a traditional “limp wrist” gesture.  As I watched myself engage in dialogue with the class, I was also reminded that my voice is nowhere as deep as I’d like it.

This epiphany wasn’t so much upsetting as it was revelatory.  There was no trauma, just heightened awareness.   After spending years crafting an image for online profiles and community service, I began to believe my own marketing. 

I successfully bought my own brand identity as a leather Daddy, or whatever that meant in my head.   What I observed on video, however, made me smirk and think to myself, “OMG, I’m sooooo gay.”  No wonder I didn’t intimidate anyone!

At least I didn’t call any of the students “Mary.”  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

In truth, watching the video, even for a few moments, I actually had a newfound appreciation for myself.  There was direct eye contact, honest communication, challenging thoughts exchanged, and lots of humor.   This would have been completely inconceivable for me just a few short years ago.  Talk about personal growth!

As I watched, I noted that the traits that I viewed as “gay acting”—whether the tone of voice, physical posturing, etc.—were honest representations of who I am.  I genuinely put myself out there.

I’ve often said—and still believe it’s true—that when we find ourselves in role play, that we’re tapping into a facet of ourselves that we want to explore.  It’s not necessarily false, but it’s also not necessarily true to our full character.

Sometimes when we’re in a play scene, particularly gay men into power exchange, our voices deepen, our backs straighten and our chests balloon outward.  We make ourselves as close to the fantasy men as we can be… the drill sergeant, the Master, the coach, etc.  Commanding figures of authority that ease the submissive psyche into relinquishing control. 

In a classroom setting, however, you’re not trying to intimidate or control… you’re trying to connect and to educate.  At least that’s my take on it.

When I’m in front of a class, I am not “butching it up” for an audience.  I am being true to myself.  I speak freely and honestly about what it means to me to be a dominant partner, a Daddy.  I speak about what gives me a charge when I’m interacting with subs.  And I am not above admitting the truth we all know but rarely speak—as much as doms like to be in control, it’s the submissives that set the scene constraints and limits.

Perhaps my biggest surprise in watching the video was that despite some of the less-than-butch displays, I found myself thinking, “Hey, I’m kind of hot.”  I was pleased that I carried myself well with an understanding of my power and my limitations.  I was delighted that I wasn’t putting on an act at all.  “Wow,” I thought to myself, “I really am a kinky teddy bear!  Isn’t that nice?”

And, heck, isn’t confidence one of the most powerful aphrodisiacs ever?

As I started to revel in the positive feelings about myself, a rarity in recent months, I recalled a phrase that I used to say quite a bit: I think I’m a nice person, but I’m not sure if I qualify as a good person.

And I found myself flashing back to community services I’ve provided over the past 20 years, from founding gay student groups, running a gay newspaper that gave voice to the disenfranchised, fighting to have my marriage announcement in the local daily paper, volunteering for a crisis hotline, volunteering as an AIDS buddy, participating or organizing fundraisers, engaging in public outreach and education.  

As my thoughts strayed from past works to the present moment, I realized that I was smiling while tears were rolling down my face.  Amazing grace, how sweet the sound! 

I’ve been wrong about myself.  For years I’ve been in denial.  Indeed, I am a good person (who just happens to enjoy naughty things).  I am a masculine person (who is not afraid to be gay acting).  I am an attractive person (whose body does not need to be perfect to be attractive).  I am a smart person (who is not afraid to feel or question or to not have all the answers).

Although I hope my personal journey of finding my self, finding comfort in my deeds and actions and body, continues to evolve, it feels like I’ve reached a milestone.

I once was lost, but now I’m found.

In a sense, I feel like I’ve come full circle.

When I first came out into leather, the gear helped me to hide behind a persona.  My interactions with subs began to help me identify my strengths and, sometimes, my weaknesses.  The more I interacted with others, the more I came to understand myself.

For years I struggled with the little strains of sadism that may run through my blood, questioning how a nice Jewish boy could inflict pain on others bound to a St. Andrews and still consider himself nice (or a Jew)!  I struggled with body image and weight—asking how I could justify being Master to another man when I couldn’t master my own body?  I struggled with going to the gym because I didn’t feel like I could belong there as a chub or someone less than hyper-masculine (which was my distorted view of jocks).  I didn’t even feel like I could fit into the bear community because my triad relationship seemed to freak many of them out. 

Although I certainly had some fun along the way, the last few years were filled with so many questions, so many struggles, so many tears, and so many lessons to learn.  And today I find myself tear stained again, but proud and joyous and unapologetic for the man I’ve been and the man I’ve become.

Like Dorothy’s slippers, which always had the power to transport her back to her black-and-white Kansas home, I suspect the answers to bring me peace and comfort were also within me all the time. 

Although I had a mentor coming out in to the gay community, I didn’t really have one coming out into the leather community.   I don’t know, maybe that’s one of my motivations for teaching classes and public outreach.  Would it have made a difference if Scott Daddy had had a Daddy of his own?  Perhaps.  And perhaps not.

Lessons that we learn for ourselves (versus lessons taught to us) are perhaps the sweetest.  And perhaps like Dorothy, I just needed to learn them for myself.

Was bound, but now I’m free.