I was born where “good ole boy,” applied to both men and women.
Where “honey” and “darling” are applied to all women and they did not think it
to be a sexist statement. Where being politically correct was something city
folks did because they failed to respect, honor and take pride in all those with
whom one associated. Where a man’s word and handshake was more binding than any
piece of paper. Where honor, pride and respect were a state of mind, the ‘human’
in humanity. Experience, they say, is the key to being a great artist. If that’s
the case, well, I am a frigging Picasso or one hell of a writer because I done
my share of hell raisin’ and placating while here on this good ol’ Earth of
ours. One thing I have learned to be an outstanding truth (and one that we tend
to forget) is, “Everything is connected to everything.” Poison our Earth Mother,
and we ourselves are poisoned, heal her and we are healed.
Graduated high school in ‘69, went to Morehead
University for a start on my degrees. I’ve been a retail merchant, badge
carrier, training and education officer within a branch of the Old F.E.M.A. I’m
a healer and medicine man within the Hiawatha Shawnee Hidden Society out of
Kentucky. Came to Florida to cross-reference Woodland tribal magic with that of
Tropical tribal magic and found an expanded universe that’s absolutely awesome.
Moved to Miami, Florida in the early 1990’s to undertake the fire vision and
survived. People either love or fear me; it’s just that simple. Moved from Miami
to Ft. Lauderdale - also known as Ft. Leatherdale - due to the amount of
leathermen and women who have moved into our beautiful city. Once in Ft.
Lauderdale, I immersed myself within the leather community became a public
figure. Became a leather tailor and later ran a leather business with Amy O. In
’99, I was the president of Leather University, an educational faculty, teaching
safe, sane and consensual S&M, B&D arts and sciences.
In 2000 I was involved in a major car accident that broke more parts than I
thought was possible. The accident awoke a sleeping childhood disease, polio,
bringing it back as post polio syndrome. I was told I would live the balance of
my life in a wheelchair but a Sensei taught me water karate and I regained my
limbs. In 2003 I found the love letters that my slave had returned to me while
he was on a road tour. These love letters are the premise for the story Hand and