When I was a teenager, it was inconceivable to me that I was gay. It took me being in college and reading some books, seeing some gay porn, and eventually exploring the internet before I realized that: Yes, I am gay. When I look back now, it seems crazy that I did not know I was gay. I had “crushes” on guys. I admired good looking guys. Hell, I even masturbated to guys at night when I was alone in my bedroom. How did I not realize I was gay when I only really fantasized and dreamed about guys? It was never women. I dated girls and even had sex with a few, but it was guys that I to whom I felt any kind of attraction.
Looking back, I bought fitness magazines and International Male catalogs. I told myself that I wanted to look like those guys. I wanted to have their physiques, even though I never have achieved that. I still told myself that I admired their bodies, but that I wasn’t attracted to them. Even with the guys I had fantasies about (and thought about being naked with them and doing sexual things with them), it never occurred to me that I might want a boyfriend or that I was gay. No, I told myself that I liked the way they looked, and I wanted to look like them.
Obviously, I was deluding myself because I was always taught that the worst thing to be was a “faggot.” That’s how the bullies tortured me. They called me a “faggot,” “fag,” or “sissy.” I was so scared I was one, that I could not let myself believe that I was one. I was taught it was something wrong and dirty. God, how they fucked us up!
Anyway, I’m curious. For those of you who did not come out early in life, who came out in college or later, what did you tell yourself about your attraction to guys? How did you justify to yourself that you were “straight” yet had an attraction to guys? I was so far in denial that I deluded myself into thinking it was just the admiration for guy’s physiques. What was your reasoning?
Autumn means different things to different people. For some, it’s a crisp chill in the air, cutting through summer’s humidity. Even in Vermont we have a lot of humidity. I did not escape it when I moved from Alabama, but it’s still not as bad. For others it’s the abhorrent cinnamon sweetness of a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte. Here in Vermont and much of New England, it’s the dreaded season for “leaf peeping” when tourists crowd our roads stopping at random places to take pictures of the leaves. It can actually be quite dangerous because the “leaf peepers” will stop anywhere even if they are blocking traffic. They don’t seem to care. And yet, for a shockingly large number of people, especially gay men, fall, and it continues into winter, is also the time of year for a very specific, very horny delight: gray sweatpants, and the outline of the wearer’s dick they can showcase.
It’s what is lovingly referred to on social media as Gray Sweatpants Season. For the uninitiated, this is the time when the climate finally mellows enough for men to pull those bottoms out from the back of their pajama drawer. Once an innocuous casual pant option, in recent years it’s become linguistic shorthand for the type of person who much prefers peeping peen over the kaleidoscopic colors of autumnal foliage. For those not in the loop, Gray Sweatpants Season is definitely a thing. It has not one but four dick-centric definitions at Urban Dictionary. “Just a Bunch of Hot Guys in Sweatpants to Warm You Up,” reads a headline from Elle magazine. It’s been fetishized to the point that there is a gay porn site called GuysInSweatpants.com.
It’s a titillation unique to our post-athleisure, post–Casual Friday era, where workout clothes are no longer relegated to gyms, but worn proudly in public. Gray Sweatpants Season also speaks to the fact that social media has lifted the curtain on the ways that sex is no longer just an activity for getting off but getting likes and shares, all you need to do is check out Instagram or TikTok to see this trend on full display. According to Twitter’s own statistics, since 2015 there have been more than 1.5 million tweets about Grey Sweatpants Season. According to its data, the conversation peaked in 2016—though, anecdotally, that conversation may have just migrated to platforms like Instagram and TikTok in recent years. But how—and, more importantly, why—did we get here? Why are grey sweats, of all articles of clothing, the unofficial symbol of fall horniness? The most obvious answer is because you can see the outline of the penis in sweatpants, especially gray sweatpants. Other colored sweatpants often hide the visible penis lines (aka VPL in gay slang). Their greatest appeal may be their sexiness is unexpected.
Some people enjoy being exhibitionists while other enjoy being the voyeur. Those who like to show off in their sweatpants gets the plausible deniability that they’re “not showing off.” You see this trend on TikTok a lot. Guys are able to basically tout their OnlyFans site without showing any actual nudity. For those who enjoy watching guys in gray sweatpants, they get the thrill of witnessing something, like a dick, that they’re not supposed to be seeing. People have always fetishized tight clothing. In the Renaissance era, men wore cod pieces. Initially, the item of clothing was meant for modesty, but it became a way for men to advertise their attributes to others signifying their sexual prowess. Henry VIII was apparently famous for his rather large cod pieces.
Sweats, rightfully, have gotten a bad wrap for being shlumpy clothes you wear when you’ve given up and just don’t care. However, there can be something sexy about a guy in sweats. Even if they aren’t gray, it can show off a guy’s assets really well form behind. Sweatpants, which have a current trend of being worn too tight, hug a guy’s backside in a way that accentuates the roundness of their butt. Trust me, as sweatpants season hits, and it gets closer to the end of the semester, guys have a propensity to wear sweatpants around campus more and more when heading to class. Every morning when I open the museum, I see guys heading to class wearing sweatpants that accentuate their butts. It would be one thing if it was always the same guy, but it’s usually different guys. I work on a campus that, if it isn’t, should be well-known for their guys’ butts. They are in great shape and when in uniform, the pants really accentuate the roundness of their behinds.
To add to the sexiness of sweatpants, there’s this very I-just-got-out-of-bed-and-threw-it-on sort of thing that says, “I’m tired of this semester. I want it to be over and done.” The supposed effortless sexuality of sweatpants is part of the appeal. Guys often seem to just pull them on without wearing underwear. I’ll be honest, when I am wearing sweats around the house, I’m not going to wear underwear under them, though I probably would if I went out in public, but young guys don’t often think much about modesty, especially on a college campus. They want to show what they have usually in an effort to get laid. College students are not just here for an education, they are also in college to broaden their horizons and experiment, often that includes sex as well. The more you can do to look attractive, the more you’ll get laid. All you have to witness is guys coming from the gym when the weather is warmer. Their clothing is skimpier and skimpier. When the weather is cooler, the sweatpants come out, and they have a new way to “accentuate the positive.”
Two unknown American sailors in a photo booth. Image courtesy of Friends of the National WWII Memorial.
The Fateful Day By Fremont “Cap” Sawade
‘Twas the day before that fateful day, December Sixth I think they say. When leave trucks passed Pearl Harbor clear The service men perched in the rear. No thought gave they, of things to come. For them, that day, all work was done. In waters quiet of Pearl Harbor Bay, The ships serene, at anchor lay.
Nor did we give the slightest thought Of treacherous deeds by the yellow lot. Those men whose very acts of treason, Are done with neither rhyme nor reason. For if we knew what was in store We ne’re would leave that day before. For fun and drink to forget the war Of Britain, Europe, and Singapore.
For all of us there was no fear This time of peace and Christmas cheer. Forget the axiom, might is right, Guardians of Peace, were we that night. We passed the sailors in cabs galore, Those men in white who came ashore. But some will ne’re be seen again, In care-free fun, those sailor men.
The Sabbath Day dawned bright and clear, A brand of fire ore the lofty spear, Of Diamond Head, Hawaii’s own. A picture itself that can’t be shown, Unless observed with naked eye, That makes one look, and stop, and sigh. What more could lowly humans ask To start upon their daily task.
The men asleep in barracks late, Knew no war, that morn at eight. The planes on fields, their motors cold, Like sheep asleep among the fold. The ships at anchor with turbines stilled, Their crews below in hammocks filled. And faint, as tho it were a dream, A sound steels on upon this scene.
A drone of many red tipped things, The Rising Sun upon their wings. Those who saw would not believe, And those that heard could not conceive. A single shocking, thundering roar, Followed by another and many more. To rob the sleep from weary eyes, Or close forever those that died.
A hot machine gun’s chattering rattle, Mowed men down like herds of cattle. A bomb destroys an air plane hangar, The planes within will fly no more. Bombs explode upon a ship, Blasting men into the deep, To sink without the slightest thought Of what brought on this hell they caught.
What seems like years, the horrible remains, Blasting men and ships and planes. And just as quick as they had come, Away they went, their foul deeds done. To leave the burning wreckage here, The scorching hulks of dead ships there. And blasted forms of dying men, Alive in hell, to die again.
At night the skies were all but clear, The rosy glow of a white hot bier, Showed on clouds the havoc wrought, And greedy flames the men still fought. But from the ruins arose this cry, That night from those who did not die, “Beware Japan we’ll take eleven, For every death of December Seven.”
And from that day there has arisen, A cry for vengeance, in storms they’re driven. This fateful day among the ages, Shall stand out red in Hist’rys pages. Those men whom homefolk held so dear, Will be avenged, have no fear. And if their lives they gave in vain, Pray, I too, may not remain.
About the Poet and the Poem
Fremont “Cap” Sawade, who passed away at age 94 in 2016, wrote this the poem right after Pearl Harbor. Sawade was assigned to an Army anti-aircraft regiment in Honolulu on liberty, having breakfast the morning of the attack on Pearl Harbor eighty years ago today. Loud explosions sent him racing to his base in a cab. He could see the Japanese planes flying low, dropping bombs, and strafing battleships with machine gun fire. Back at Camp Malakole, Sawade ducked for cover when the Japanese Zeros strafed it. The attack caught the Americans completely off guard. Sawade said his unit didn’t even have ammunition for their big guns.
Two days later, with the wreckage of the Pacific Fleet still smoking, he sat at a desk at Hickam Field and started writing a poem. He’d never written one before. He hasn’t written one since. But over the next week, this one flowed out of him. He called it “The Fateful Day.” It captures how idyllic life was, before the attack. How lucky the service members felt to wake up every day with a view of Diamond Head. The poem captures their surprise, and then their anger at the Japanese, including a slur that was common then, offensive now. It captures the horror — “A hot machine gun’s chattering rattle/Mowed men down like herds of cattle” — and the raw thirst for vengeance.
He came home from the war to his native San Diego, worked a variety of jobs, including 10 years as a building inspector for the city of El Cajon. He got married, raised a family, and lived in Rancho Bernardo with his wife, Gloria. Over the years, he showed the poem to a few friends. He shared it a time or two in military newsletters. But the truth is he never thought it was anything special. However, today, nearly 80 years after he wrote it, it serves as a primary source for the thoughts of the men who lived through the attack on Pearl Harbor that fateful Sunday morning.
There are certain actors that make my heart go pitter patter and can take my breath away when I see them on the screen. Wilson Cruz as Dr. Hugh Culber on Star Trek: Discovery is one of them, and the new uniform this season makes him even hotter. There’s something about these new uniforms that just look great, no matter who is wearing them, but back to Cruz. When he played Enrique “Rickie” Vasquez, a troubled, gay teen, in the short-lived series My So-Called Life, Cruz was the first openly gay actor to play an openly gay character in a leading role in an American television series. That was in 1994, and I was a junior in high school. While I may not have been out, or even understood that I was gay back then, Cruz still made an impression on me. So when he was cast in Discovery as a gay doctor, I was thrilled. Who better to play one of the first two openly gay Star Trek characters than such a groundbreaking actor. Also, while over the four seasons of Discovery Cruz’s role has become more important each year, his character in the fourth season seems to have really hit its stride. Dr. Bashir on Deep Space Nine and Dr. McCoy on the original Star Trek have always been my favorite Star Trek doctors, Dr. Culber has surpassed them.
There are other actors that always get me hot and bothered. One of those actors is Luke Macfarlane. You’re probably all going, “Who?” Macfarlane first notable role was as Scotty Wandell on ABC’s Brothers & Sisters from 2006-2011. He was the husband to Kevin Walker (played by Matthew Rhys), one of the “brothers” of the show. He was also a main character in the Sci-Fi Channel (and Canada’s Space Channel) show Killjoys from 2015-2019. Also, if you watch any Hallmark Channel Christmas movies, he’s on of their go-to actors. Most recently he was in the Micheal Urie and Kathy Najimy Christmas movie on Netflix Single All the Way as the gorgeous fitness/ski instructor James (see above picture). I watched the movie last night and enjoyed it. I have not seen Macfarlane in a lot of stuff since I had seen him in Killjoys, but when he came on the screen in Single All the Way, I think my heart literally skipped a beat.
There are many gay actors that I love, and a few that aren’t gay, that make my heart go pitter patter. One that never fails me is Colton Haynes. I have been in love with him since I first saw pictures of him making out with another male model in the now defunct XY Magazine. Years later, he was in Teen Wolf and Arrow. What’s amazing about Haynes is that he’s been a successful model and actor but has also suffered from severe anxiety all of his life. Sadly, he dealt with that anxiety with drugs and alcohol, but as I understand it, he is finally sober and doing well these days.
So what actors, particularly gay ones, make your heart go pitter patter?
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing.
—2 Timothy 4:7-8
The Second Epistle of Paul to Timothy, usually referred to as Second Timothy, is one of the three pastoral epistles traditionally attributed to Paul the Apostle. It is addressed to Timothy, a fellow missionary and traditionally is considered to be the last epistle he wrote before his death. The passage above is known as Paul’s Valedictory, or his final farewell to Timothy.
In our own final days, I think we should all strive to be able to say what Paul says here: I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. We can never give up fighting the “good fight” and spreading the love that Jesus showed us in his time on earth. Jesus called out injustice and spread God’s love. Fighting the good fight is the only way we can make an impact on this world. It’s not always easy to live by example.
I’ll admit, I am not always a kind person. My unkindness is usually associated with impatience, though I have tried very hard to increase my capacity for patience, but there are times when it gets the better of me. My other great flaw is gossip. I wish I did not love gossiping and hearing gossip so much, but I do. However, I try my best to never maliciously gossip. We all have sins that we wish we could control better, and so, it’s a constant struggle. There’s only two things we can do: work diligently to improve on and correct our faults and when we fail, we need to ask God for forgiveness.
If we do continue to fight the good fight then “there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness.” The Lord, will be our righteous Judge, and if we do our best to follow his example, we will be rewarded in the next life.
The Closet Professor 