Friday, March 21, 2014

Johnny Weir: Wrong About Marriage? FREE Gay Excerpt: The Preacher's Husband

Johnny Weir: Wrong About Marriage?

It seems Johnny Weir is in the news again, and I'm posting about it more often than I normally would because I find it interesting that his marriage and his separation is actually making news...from a pop culture and legal POV. In an almost macabre way, I think this shows how far LGBTI people have come in only the past few years, because now the media thinks gay divorce is significant enough to publish, and, finances are going to come into play. Of course the statements Weir makes about marriage are so obtuse it's a shame he's the focus. But that's how things work sometimes.

Anything related to Weir isn't always as newsworthy as it is serpentine, but it's there and people obviously are interested in reading about it.

This is what he tweeted about his marriage:

 'It is with great sadness that I announce that my husband and I are no longer together. My heart hurts, and I wish him well,' Weir tweeted to his more than 205,000 followers.

You can read more here...and even more in a previous post I wrote about how Weir allegedly bit his husband.

This is what Weir's husband, Victor Voronov, has been saying. According to this piece, Weir filed for divorce a while back and didn't bother to mention this to his husband.

Late Wednesday (19 March), he had posted: ‘Shocked by the abrupt ending of my marriage and am dealing with the trauma including multiple things I am just now becoming aware of…’

He added: ‘I can not comment any further’ and directed any further inquiries to his ‘legal crisis manager.’

You can read more about that here. I'm sure there's more to come with this one, and I seriously hope Voronov has a good attorney.

This next aspect of Weir's marriage is very interesting. In another article, Weir makes claims his marriage to Voronov was "threatening." He also claims he was isolated and losing himself. Who knows? It's not something I would state in public.

But this next comment from Weir is particularly interesting to me in a more general sense because I've heard some gay men say this before and it just stuns me each time.

'I was supporting two people and whether it seems like a big deal or not, I come from a lower middle class family that has had to work no matter what. If you can’t be an attorney this week, then you better go get a job next week, otherwise the bills won’t get paid.'

In almost any marriage I've ever seen there's always one who is the major breadwinner...gay or straight. I do know plenty of straight couples where the wife is now the breadwinner. When you decide to marry someone you know this ahead of time and it isn't supposed to matter as long as the partnership/marriage works and you're in love. In other words, Weir and Voronov weren't just roommates splitting the rent, splitting all expenses, and labeling everything in the refrigerator. They were a married couple, and when they married they became a union where everything they own is shared completely. That's why it states in marriage vows: for richer or poorer. I've been married to my husband for over twenty-one years and everything is shared. Everything. Tony is not my roommate. He's my husband. I also know plenty of gay couples where one is the major breadwinner and the other is more domestic and doesn't work outside the home. If straight marriages have worked well this way for years and years why should it be any different for gay marriages? And as a gay man who has been married for a long time, I resent it when I see gay men make statements like this.

Of course most married couples both work now. But not always. And I hope other gay men who don't quite grasp this concept pay attention closely. You're not looking for a roommate to share expenses. That's not what marriage is about. You're looking for a spouse. And if you are looking for someone to split expenses and that's a huge part of why you're getting married, don't bother. It won't end well.

In New Jersey, I know through family members and friends that divorce is a fifty-fifty deal. In other words, when you're legally married in the state of New Jersey and you divorce everything you have is split right down the middle. And that shouldn't be any different from the Weir-Voronov marriage. So unless there's a pre-nuptial agreement with Weir and Voronov, it should be interesting to see how all this unfolds legally.

The days when a gay man could just throw a long-term partner/spouse out the door (think Liberace) with nothing are finally coming to an end.

You can read more of Weir's immature rants here.

Free Gay Excerpt: The Preacher's Husband

Sometimes when I post about upcoming books I state that everything is tentative. And this is a good example of what I'm talking about. The next full length M/M romance in the Glendora Hill series I'm releasing very soon was originally titled, Silver Lining Ranch, and I recently changed the title to something I think works better...The Preacher's Husband. In many ways it is about marriage...and not the kind of marriage so many seem to be fantasizing about these days. This is about real marriage, and how important love is to any real marriage. I'll release a blurb and post more about the launch date for this one. Here's an excerpt that probably won't be published anywhere else but here.




About six hours away from Silver City, New Mexico, he stopped for gas and a few bags of candy that would keep him comfortable until he reached Texas. He figured he'd better use the rest room, too, even though he didn't have actually have to do anything. After he forced himself to pee, he climbed into the truck and headed back toward the interstate. It was raining even harder now and the sound of the wipers swiping at full force caused a knot in his stomach. He'd finished the breakfast sandwiches and he felt hungry again. He wished he'd stopped for a sandwich. He'd seen a sign for fast food places not far from where he'd stopped for gas, but he didn't feel like turning around. At least he'd thought far enough in advance to get some candy. Maybe Dudley was wright about him. He should start to pay closer attention to his eating habits.

As he reached over the center console to grab a box of Jolly Rancher Gummies, he only glanced down for a second to make sure he didn't pick up the Skittles by mistake. He wanted to save those, and the Good and Plenty's, for later. He was on the entrance ramp of the interstate and he couldn't have been going more than two or three miles per hour. He'd seen the traffic up ahead and he'd slowed down almost to a complete stop. But when he looked down for that one split second and reached for the Jolly Rancher Gummies, he felt a thump, a jerk, and looked up to see that he'd tapped the SUV in front of him.

He didn't think he'd caused any damage, and it was only a gentle tap. But he put the truck in park, put on his flashers, grabbed an umbrella in the backseat, and jumped out of the cab to check things out. He looked down and saw there was no damage at all, not even a scratch. So he walked up to the driver's side of the SUV and knocked on the window to make sure the driver was okay. It was raining so hard he didn't notice anything other than the line of traffic that had caused them to stop had moved forward and they were the only two cars on the ramp now.

A woman with bright crimson hair that looked as though someone had covered her plump round head with a square cardboard box and cut the ends in blunt chunks from earlobe to earlobe lowered the window and Kelly smiled. "Are you okay? Sorry about that. I checked and there's no damage."

"I'm okay," the woman said. "Are you sure there's no damage. My husband will kill me. This is the third time I've been dinged this month. We just got the car back from the body shop."

Kelly noticed a diamond earring in her left nostril and tried not to stare at it. "I'm sure there's no damage." He would have told her the truth if there had been damage. He wasn't spiritual and didn't know a thing about the bible, but he did believe in his grandmother's old saying that what goes around comes around. "Maybe you should get out and look yourself. I’d feel more comfortable if you did."

She shrugged and flipped a straight chunk of crimson hair. "I just had my hair done. I'll trust you."

The rain continued to pound him, and his favorite cowboy boots were getting soaked. "I really wish you'd just get out and look fast. I'll hold the umbrella for you so you don't get wet."

"Ah, honey, I'm fine," she said. "You look honest to me. It's him that I'm more worried about. I hope I didn't do any damage." She looked straight ahead and pointed at the windshield.

When Kelly turned to look to see what she was talking about, he opened his eyes wider and took a deep breath. There was a motorcycle on its side in the middle of the ramp. The guy with the lime green and black motorcycle helmet was looking down at it and shaking his head. Kelly turned to the woman again. "What happened?"

She made a face. "When you tapped me I tapped him. But only a little. I don't think I tapped him hard enough to do any serious damage." She gestured to the windshield again and frowned. "And he is walking around okay from what I can see. Oh, I just don't want my husband to find out about any of this. Would you go up and look for me?"

Kelly hesitated because it was a guy with a green and black helmet. But he also knew he was indirectly responsible, so he nodded and said, "I'll be right back."

He turned and walked to the front of the SUV. He glanced down at the SUV's bumper and didn't see any damage. The guy was looking down at the motorcycle and his back was facing Kelly.  Before Kelly tapped him on the shoulder, he hoped it wasn't the same guy he'd been running into since he'd left Arizona.

But the instant Kelly's finger touched the guy's back, the guy jumped and turned fast. Although the helmet covered his head and face, Kelly saw the pale blue eyes gazing in his direction and he knew it was the guy from the swimming pool earlier that morning.

"What the fuck, man?" the guy said. He pointed to the SUV and shook his finger. "First, she tries to run me down, and now you're trying to scare me to death."

"I'm sorry," Kelly said. He had to speak louder because the rain made so much noise on the umbrella. "It's not her fault. It's mine. I tapped her and she tapped you."

The blue eyes blinked. "You tagged her?"

Kelly leaned closer to him. "Not tagged, tapped. I reached for my Jolly Rancher Gummies and it just happened. I’m saving the Skittles for later."

"Dude," the guy said, "I have no idea what you're talking about." Then the guy hesitated and looked Kelly up and down. "Hey, aren't you the naked guy who was perving at the pool this morning. Are you stalking me or something, man? We seem to be running into each other a lot."

Kelly felt his face grow warm. Even though Kelly had caused this mess, it didn't mean the guy had to call him a pervert and a stalker. "I was not perving at the pool this morning, or anywhere else. I don’t perv. I thought I was alone. And you're the one stalking me."

The woman in the SUV stuck her head out the window for a second and honked the horn. "Is everything okay? I have to get home."

Kelly nodded and said, "There's no damage to your car." He glanced at the guy and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm not sure," the guy said, looking down at his bike. "I went down fast and I hate to take the chance of getting back out on the road in this weather if there is something wrong with my bike."

This was the last thing Kelly wanted to deal with that afternoon. Oh, if he hadn't looked down at those damn Jolly Rancher Gummies he never would have been in this mess in the first place. But he knew he was responsible and there was only one thing to do. So he looked at the guy with the helmet and said, "We'll put the bike in my truck and find a garage that can look it over. I was the one who tapped her first and I can't leave you here in the pouring rain."

"What is all this tapping you keep talking about, dude," the guy asked. "Do you speak English?"

"Never mind," Kelly said. "Just pick up the bike and bring it around to my truck. I'll help you in a minute."

While the guy in the helmet brought the bike back to Kelly's truck, Kelly walked back to the SUV and told the woman with the boxy red haircut everything was fine and she could leave. She thanked him and hit the gas so hard the tail end of the SUV fishtailed and he felt very sorry for her husband. When he turned to look back at his truck he noticed a long line of cars had stopped and they were all waiting to get onto the Interstate.

Kelly gestured to the guy with the motorcycle and pointed to the shoulder of the road. Then he jogged to the truck and pulled it off to the shoulder so the other cars wouldn't have to wait while they loaded the motorcycle into the back. Kelly's pick-up truck wasn't just a big black shiny toy. He actually used the truck for many functional purposes on the ranch and he was always prepared to haul things in the bed that most people wouldn't have even considered. So it didn’t take long to load the motorcycle because he had two folding metal ramps. He even had a tarp to cover it.

After he folded the ramp and set it in place, he closed the tailgate and glanced at the guy in the helmet. The umbrella was on the ground and they were both soaked by then. "Get in and we'll find a place to look the bike over. I'm on a tight schedule and I'm supposed to be in Texas before midnight."

The guy stood still, as if he couldn't move his legs, and stared at Kelly.

"What's wrong?"

The guy shrugged. "Are you sure it's safe, dude? You're not going to tag anybody else while I'm sitting in the death seat?"

Kelly smiled and said, "It's tap, not tag. Just get in. I'm soaked." He had a feeling the guy was joking now.





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