My Life As A Black Gay Man
By Anthony Randall and Leslie Jordan
()
About this ebook
Anthony Randall
Award wining Anthony Randall, is sixty-one-years-old and hails from Watford in Hertfordshire. He has resided in Tucson, Arizona, and in Bourlens, France, but now lives in sunny Dorset on the south coast of England close to the sea. He has been a singer and songwriter for more than forty-years recording and performing pop songs all over the world. He wrote and published his first novel The English Sombrero (Nothing to do but run), with his co-author Doug Goddard back in 2005, the first of a four part saga about the trials tribulations of Don Simmons, an extravagant millionaire who lends himself to some outrageous adventures and sticky situations. Book two, The English Sombrero (The little white ball), see's Don further his journey of enlightenment. Both books are available as e-books and paperbacks. Their third title The Fridge Magnet, a private investigator mystery, was released in September 2022. Anthony and Doug are currently working on three more novels. Anthony has a short story published in the You're Not Alone' anthology called Colin And Sandy, has published many articles and short stories in the on-line magazine Mom's Favorite Reads and is hard at work writing volume two of Tales of Tucson.He has just been awarded a readers choice gold medal in Connections magazine for general fiction.
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My Life As A Black Gay Man - Anthony Randall
Copyright 2022
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ISBN: 978-1-66787-183-7 (hardcover)
ISBN: 978-1-66787-184-4 (eBook)
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 1
AT THE AGE OF EIGHT, I KNEW SOMETHING WAS VERY DIFFERENT ABOUT ME.
I remember my father would take MY BROTHERS AND ME TO THE GYM WITH HIM, AND HOW I WOULD LOOK AT THE MEN WITH ADMIRATION AND DESIRE.
I WAS SO FASCINATED BY THE WAY MEN LOOKED AND HOW MASCULINE THEY WERE.
IT DIDN’T OCCUR TO ME THAT I WAS INFATUATED AND ATTRACTED TO MEN.
My father was a military officer, and we got orders that we were being sent to Japan.
When my family arrived, we found the Japanese culture to be so interesting. I remember when we checked into our hotel, we had to take our shoes off at the door.
That was so new to us as we never had to take our shoes off back at home in America.
When we went to dinner that evening, my mother helped us make dinner choices. We were so used to her cooking so the menu only had seafood and other rare and different dishes we weren’t used to.
Needless to say, being in Japan was a challenge at first. Sushi on the menu looked like candy. We were excited to try the colorful treats. My mother explained that it was not candy but raw fish. We tried it. My brothers loved it. I, however, did not enjoy the raw cuisine.
One day while in Japan, my brothers and I were in the car with our father. We had a 1964 Chevy Impala. It was my father’s gift to our mother. It was beautiful; it was a pretty, green metallic with white interior. It was shipped from the states to Japan.
The car was large in size and stood out. In Japan, most vehicles were sub-compact.
While our father was driving, we approached a traffic signal. The car began to sway back and forth. When we came to a stop, the car continued to shake. My brothers and I said, Dad, do that again,
but he said, I didn’t do that.
No sooner than he said, I didn’t do that,
the car swayed again. That was our first time experiencing an earthquake in Misawa, Japan.
My childhood was a blur at times my family life wasn’t the most ideal due to a very abusive father.
While in Japan, my father would regularly abuse and beat our mother. He had sincere trust issues. One night, while I was sound asleep, I heard a loud thud come from the other side of the wall. Then I heard my mother say, Albert, no!
When I walked down the hallway and peeked into the room, he was on top of her with his hands around her neck. I immediately said, Daddy, you leave mommy alone.
He didn’t like that I came to her rescue. He turned toward me, grabbed me by my neck, and threw me across the bed and said, You stay out of grown folks’ business.
I hated him from that day on. I didn’t like seeing my mother cry.
We spent a total of two years in Japan, and I could not wait to return to the states.
The Japanese culture was fun, but I wanted to return to Sacramento where I had my friends.
Months before we were to return to the states, my father took the family to Tokyo to see the Cherry Blossom festival. I remember vividly the high-speed train ride and how beautiful the cherry blossom trees were as we sped by.
We tried different kinds of foods, and I remember how much attention my mother received. She is mixed race and very beautiful. American Indian, Chinese, and black.
Her features were stunning, and she stood out.
For as beautiful my mother was, I could not understand why my father put his hands on her and physically abused her. She was such an innocent woman, and I didn’t understand why he would hurt her.
Chapter 2
Growing up, I struggled with acceptance. My mother would take me and my siblings on the weekend to go and visit our cousins, where I was constantly bullied and made fun of. I didn’t fit into the typical little boy category because I came off as being a Mamma’s boy.
I would tell my uncles and aunts about the name calling, and they would tell me to grow up and be a man. It implanted in me lifelong insecurities.
I also wasn’t a good student in school. I had to put a lot of time into my homework and studying. For my brother on the other hand, homework and studying was effortless for him. Clearly my father saw that quality in him and decided to put more emphasis and time into his education. (That will catch up to haunt them both later).
Our next travel experience, we were sent to Germany. We lived in Spangdahlem. My father chose for us to live in the country, so that my siblings and I would learn to live and experience a different culture. This allowed us to become friends with the German kids.
Essentially, that is how we learned to speak the language. We lived in the country for about a year.
We were on a waiting list to get onto the base housing. I loved living in the country. My brothers and I played with the German kids, and they taught us many different cultural things. My mother even bought us Lederhosen for us when we went to the German Beer festival. My mother loved dressing her boys like triplets even though we were three and five years apart.
We lived in a duplex under a German family. The family had two children (Abbey and Wilhelm around our ages). Wilhelm was about my age, and we got along very well. One day, Wilhelm took me and my brothers to a farm down the hill from where we lived. Our father had specially told us not to ever go down there. The problem with a parent telling his three boys not to do something without explained why was not understood. When we asked him why, he would say, Because I said so.
Needless to say, our curiosity prevailed. Wilhelm took us to the farm. As we walked down the long rocky road, we could hear cows, and pigs squealing and mooing. It was a slaughter house.
Just as we walked up to the open barn doors, the farmers hoisted a cow by its hind legs and took a huge saw and cut it open down the center of its stomach. Blood rushed out everywhere as the cow mooed in excruciating pain.
This was an awful mistake to view. My youngest brother began to cry and started running back down the rocky road back toward our home.
I tried my best to comfort him but he was inconsolable. When we got back into the house my mother asked what happened. My brother said they killed a cow mommy in front of us. My mother said we told you not to go down there. I said, I know, but Wilhelm took us there and by the time we got there, we didn’t realize what was about to happen.
Mom did everything she could to console my younger brother and said, Wait till your father comes home; you are going to be in a lot of trouble and have to deal with him.
When dad got home that evening, Mom explained to him what happened. He came into my room and said, Didn’t I tell you not to go down there?
I tried to explain it wasnt our intension to go there, but he wasn’t hearing it, and he proceeded to beat my ass. He said, I am the oldest, and therefore, I should be the one making responsible decisions.
I began to despise him even more after that incident. I had to restrict my time hanging out with Wilhelm.
We finally came up on the housing list and we moved. I was about ten. I liked living on base because there were all American kids, and it was easier to make new friends.
One day, after my fifth grade class, I was walking home. Leaving my classroom, I walked through the Jr. High Campus.
As I walked, I passed a classroom that was in session. A woman came to the classroom glass door and just stared at me. It seemed odd to me, but I continued my walk home.
My mother took interest in me, and she