Martin when he was eleven; was I cute?

Hi, friends and readers:

I don’t normally post twice during an evening. I actually have a life. But I returned from my neighborhood’s sunset party and there were all these comments asking me, “Exactly what did you look like in sixth grade? Were you skinny or fat? Did you have buck teeth? Was your hair curly?

Sheesh …

Okay, I have scanned my sixth grade school photo; here it is. I was sorta cute, I guess. (Those ears kind of stick out, don’t they?) I was goal-oriented, a bit naive, and very sensitive. Already, I’d fallen in love with writing. I scripted our end-of-the-year, sixth-grade graduation play. I appeared as a French artist, complete with smock, beret, false moustache, and a painter’s palete. Sexy!

I wasn’t the best of athletes, but I tried hard on the ballfield. I did okay at baseball; I pitched and hit the ball fairly well. I made good grades, too. I behaved in class and lusted for certain male classmates. (“Oh, Jeff …”)

I’m not much different today. But I have learned how to deal with life’s difficulties. I’ve done my best, persevered whenever I could, and now my life’s about as perfect as anyone’s. I pretty much have anything a guy could ask for. Lucky me.

Hey, all the young guys out there who follow this blog: gay athletes like skateboarders and surfers and wrestlers. I know it’s hard; I know you feel lonely and a little bit scared. But you will find happiness one day, just like I have. It’s possible, believe me. You can like sports and have a boyfriend, too. I do. And he’s a bigger jock than me: he plays tennis, ice hockey, soccer and baseball. And aye-yi-yi, he’s sexy … Life has so much to offer. Please, be patient.

Enjoy your Saturday night, my friends.

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