Above: Scott and I at MAL 2008.
Ah, MAL. It's one of the bookends for my year. I've attended every year since 2002. I know so many people there that I can't keep track of them all and have no hope whatsoever of remembering all the names. I generally eschew comparisons of the leather community to family, because it's a bit treacly and not really appropriate given my dysfunctional biological family. However, calling MAL a family reunion is not very far off base. It's a bucket full of fun.
This weekend I stayed with Scott, who lives only two blocks from the host hotel. Scott is my oldest friend who I still see regularly. We founded the KC boys of Leather, one of the first few boy clubs in existence, and I'm proud to say it's still going strong. We've traveled the country causing all kinds of scandal and havoc. We've laughed and cried together, succeeded and failed. We've fought like cats and dogs at times. We've always pulled through and were stronger for it. When we get together, it's like we never spent any time apart.
When I think of what it means to have a brother, I think of Scott.
Years ago, during a trip to Wichita, Kansas for a leather event, we got all dolled up in our matching Navy Dress Blues for an evening on the town. Naturally we couldn't pass up the opportunity to document the occasion. After a few appropriately stoic photos, Scott kicked his leg up in the air, I deftly caught it, and, grinning like idiots, we were rewarded with one of the cutest, gayest photos either of us has ever taken.
Last Friday during MAL we attended an invitation-only party at a gorgeous private home in Arlington, Virginia. Our hosts had a room set up with a professional photographer so all their guests could remember the occasion. After a couple oh-so-appropriate shots, Scott proved that he still has his high kick. It was fab.