My gay life: part 4

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BREAKING UP & LONDON

We had a nice house, a cat(!), many friends and a great social life. However, after seven years, things began to fall apart. 'A' always had difficulty discussing what he wanted from the relationship and trouble making decisions -- whether life-changing choices or decisions over which paint to buy at the local DIY store! However, he didn't want anyone else to decide.

This wasn't a problem when things were going well, but I'd always known there would be major trouble if the relationship hit problems. Unless you have lived with a person who is like this, you have no idea how infuriating and soul-destroying it can be.

He was also unhappy in his job and had been for a long time. But, again, he wouldn't do anything about it.

There was a lot more to it than this, but I won't go into any greater detail here...

The only way to resolve problems like these is to talk and work things out. If you stick your head in the sand, or turn to people outside of the relationship (people who sometimes don't really have your best interests at heart) you are in big trouble.

The situation dragged on for 18 long months. This was a shock to me, as I had genuinely (and probably rather naively) thought we might be together for life.

Back in 1987 I had begun contributing to magazines and in 1989 I had set up my own business as a freelance journalist and photographer, working from home.

I was having increasing success with this work and earning a reasonable living from it. Among other things, I wrote a monthly column for one national magazine. However, 'A' didn't believe this was a 'proper' job and this was another cause of tension in the relationship. He was to be proved wrong in a rather dramatic fashion!

One day, in February 1992, completely out of the blue, I received a call from the editor of a magazine that I contributed to each month. Their Features Editor had left, he said, would I like the job? This had always been my dream... I said 'yes'. In my heart I felt I had done everything I could to try and save the relationship.

Two weeks later I had my own apartment in Wimbledon and I walked into a high-rise office in the centre of London, with a stunning view of St.Paul's Cathedral across the River Thames. A week after that, I celebrated my 30th birthday.

I loved living in London and had the most amazing time. I was being interviewed at the BBC one day and photographing famous people the next. After work I would go over to Soho to eat.

One morning, just a couple of weeks after I'd moved down, I awoke to discover there was a strike on the London Underground and the railway. I tried to get a bus to work, but they were full to the door and wouldn't stop. Finally, I managed to get a Tube train to High Street Kensington. There were chaotic scenes, with people running in every direction, trying to get work. In the middle of it all, was a tall good-looking American guy (above right) who was carrying a suitcase.

We got talking. He was 21, straight, and had only just left the US Marines (yes I know this sounds like the text from some corny gay porn site!). He was lost in all the confusion about transport, so I helped him get to his hotel. The following Saturday, we spent the day together, visiting the famous London sites, which neither of us had seen before. I shot a video, which the frames above are taken from.

He was just one of the many great people I met, some of whom I am still in touch with. London has a reputation for being unfriendly, but I found the opposite -- whether local people or visitors from around the world. I was also free and single for the first time since age 21!

It was an exciting time. Margaret Thatcher had gone, things were beginning to be more open. There was a buzz in areas such as Soho, where gay cafe-bars, restaurants and other gay businesses were opening. There were new magazines such as 'Boyz' and gay spending power was beginning to be recognised. Looking back, it was the beginning of the end of the gay community as we had known it and the start of a more cynical scene which aimed to cash in on the 'pink pound' and disregarded anything and anyone that didn't make a buck!

BOOT BOY COMES OUT

At the time, I had my hair cut in a flat-top. I wore army boots and a bomber jacket. One day, soon after I had started the job, two of my co-workers began criticising the way I dressed. I looked like a racist boot boy, they suggested. I was staggered to hear this from two intelligent people, both of whom had gay friends. Talk about being out of touch...

Just a few days before, a handsome young Indian guy, who was dressed much the same as me, had leant towards me on the Tube to ask where did I go to buy my army boots. The fact is, in 1992, half the gay men on Old Compton Street (of whatever race) were dressed this way. It was even more ironic as I was dating a black man at the time.

I laughed and told my colleagues that they obviously weren't too well informed about current gay fashion. They were rather surprised to discover I was gay. I think they thought all northern men were straight! But, after that incident, the three of us got along tremendously well.

The downside of London, then and now, is that you have to work like a dog to pay for somewhere decent to live. I was earning good money but, by the end of each month, there was nothing left. I had little free time and was working so hard that, come the weekend, I just wanted to sleep.

After six months, I decided that self-employment was definitely the life for me (and would be a lot more profitable). There were also changes afoot at the magazine which made this a sensible decision. The magazine begged me to stay and offered more money, but I decided to leave and negotiated a good freelance deal with them instead.

I moved up to my cottage in a small village near the England/Scotland Border. This was quite a change from Wimbledon, but permanent rural living was something else I had always dreamed of trying.

Thanks to my contacts in London I had plenty of work. I was working by fax, 'phone and e-mail from my tiny office in the L-shaped box room (which is 44 inches wide). I got myself a couple of kitty-cats too.

Shortly after arriving home with my two new kittens, 1992

Strangely, as I had more free time and more money (no rent to pay), my gay social life in this rural location was busier than it had been in London. I had several gay friends in the area and we would regularly travel to Newcastle or Edinburgh for nights out.

Our favourite bar in Edinburgh was 'Chapps' -- which was on two levels. Leather and denim guys downstairs, with a disco on the balcony above. An odd mix, but it worked extremely well and I had some of my best-ever nights out, dancing away upstairs. After 11pm we would head to a nearby club night called 'Joy'.

I was still on reasonable terms with 'A'. He visited quite regularly and I stayed with him in Manchester. I was doing some teaching down on the south coast of England several times each year and attending shows in London for the magazines. So finally I got to explore more of the London nightlife during my visits.

Taking a break during one of my weeks away teaching adult education. Afterwards, there would be a couple of days spent catching up with friends and enjoying the night-life in London.

30 YEAR-OLD TEENAGER

I had got myself into that long relationship just a few months after I emerged onto the gay scene. So, in many respects, I was doing, in my thirties, what most guys do in their late teens or early twenties. Looking around at the scene, at age 21, I had never wanted to be single. But now that I was, I was determined to enjoy it and at least I could approach things with a more mature outlook. I guess the most surprising thing was the immature way that many gay men approached dating, sex and relationships.

Old Compton Street, London, 'Soho Pink Weekend', 1994 (I think). Video coming soon!

ONLINE

In 1993 or 1994 I got my first modem. It connected at 2400bps -- about one two-hundredth of the speed of my current ADSL connection -- and I discovered the world of the BBS or Bulletin Board Service. I began sending my work by e-mail. This was an era of huge 'phone bills, as everything was a long-distance call. At this time I had an Amiga A1200 computer, not a PC.

At the end of 1995 I lived in London once again. This time just for four months in Bow in the East End. But the accommodation didn't work out and I headed back out to the countryside.

Things began to change. It was becoming harder to earn a decent living from freelancing for magazines. Especially from the niche that I specialised in, as it had peaked. I could see that the web was the future, but it was early days.

Some of my contacts moved on and the teaching work came to an end. Friends moved away from the area. 'A' met a new partner and I rarely saw him anymore. There were fewer trips away and nights out and less money in my pocket.

On Saturday 15 June 1996, a bomb exploded in the centre of Manchester (read more on this BBC page) injuring at least 120 people. Watching the scenes of devastation on TV with tears in my eyes, I realised for the first time just how fond I was of the dear old city.

We still had some fun parties out in the country. One memorable get together was on the night of the 1997 General Election, when Tony Blair became Prime Minister. A few months later, in the early hours of the morning and following the latest party, I walked home along the country lanes. I jumped into bed and switched on the TV to check the news before going to sleep...

The news was that Diana, Princess of Wales, had died in a car crash. She was just a few months older than me. In the weeks that followed, I began to feel that life was passing me by out there in the country. It was time for a change and, in October 1997, I moved into a flat in a block in Manchester.

BACK TO MANCHESTER

I had lost touch with most people in Manchester. However, I found that I had some wonderful new neighbours who made me feel welcome. The idea that a sense of community disappeared along with the streets of back-to-back terraced houses, is a myth. 'Is this the gay block?' a visitor asked our caretaker one day... And it's true that our building, five minutes from Canal Street, seemed at least 40% queer.

Manchester was going up in the world, with building work everywhere. It was exciting. Canal Street had become the 'gay village' and there were new venues such as Manto and Via Fossa. The general population of Manchester was now more friendly towards gay men and women than ever before (just look at the smiling faces lining the route of the Mardi Gras parade).

But, in other ways, things had changed for the worse. Straight men, who at one time wouldn't have been seen dead in a gay club, were now holding hands at the door so they could be sure to get in. Long-established favourite venues had lost their atmosphere as they 'dumbed down' so they could appeal to business people at lunchtime and the straight clientelle. Other venues were hardly gay at all. Bar 38 was nick-named 'Bar Thirty-straight'.

Mardi Gras, which had been a tremendous success (years that I missed unfortunately) also seemed a bit too geared towards the general population. Like a number of annual gay events in the UK, it had become more commercial, less community-based, and was struggling with finances. The 1999 Mardi Gras was a scandal. More on my page here.

Out and proud 1990's style: if you want to celebrate being gay, you'll need your credit card. 'No pledgeband, no party' says this miserable poster for Mardi Gras 1999. Unfortunately there was NO money left for charity either... We all paid, but incompetent organisers frittered away hundreds of thousands of pounds of income. It was a total betrayal of Manchester's LGBT community. The printed guide for Mardi Gras 1999 included a message from Tony Blair the Prime Minister. But that level of support hasn't happened since, due to the scandal. However the current Manchester Pride organisers are much the same: they're happy to twist the truth and costs are rocketing year on year.

In the press, Manchester had been given the nickname 'gunchester'. The city centre could be a threatening place and Canal Street was no exception. In 2001, one burly rapid-response cop in body armour told me that even he avoided the city centre on his nights off.

After I was robbed at knifepoint at 2pm in the afternoon, I began to avoid the gay village. I concentrated on going out for meals, to parties etc. I went to ordinary pubs away from the city centre and spent time with friends at their house or at mine. I could go for many months without visiting a gay bar or club. My friends were more of a mix (gay and straight).

A rare 1980's TV appearance for gay Manchester. Paul from Clone Zone shows James Whale a chocolate willy in their Bloom Street shop: 'You have to be careful you don't melt them. We also do a dark chocolate one...'. Next a dildo... Possibly the first time such an item had been seen on British television. From the James Whale Radio Show, Yorkshire Television, 9 December 1988.

TELEVISION DISCOVERS GAY MANCHESTER

In the early 1980's, gay life was almost never featured on TV. We were invisible and any positive mention was a major event. In 1984, the Channel 4 pop show The Tube featured HiNRG music. Here was 'our' music from the gay clubs, which was never heard on the radio, on a national TV programme! As we watched a clip from the video of Miquel Brown's 'So Many Men So Little Time', we could hardly believe it.

More typical was the BBC's treatment of the Mr Hardware contest in 1983. They had filmed this annual gay male beauty contest in the London gay club Heaven, however they included it in a programme called 'Something For the Ladies' and dubbed on sound effects of women screaming. We were disgusted!

The first time I saw gay Manchester on screen was in 1988, when the Clone Zone store featured in a hilarious (and, for the time, outrageous) item on James Whale's show. In 1997, several episodes of the BBC's Made In Manchester documentary series were devoted to covering Mardi Gras.

But these were nothing compared to what happened In February 1999, when the first episode of Queer As Folk hit our screens. The title came from the Lancashire expression 'there's nowt as queer as folk' and this eight-part drama followed the lives of a group of working-class gay men living in Manchester.

People either loved or hated the series. Some gay men and women seemed to think it was a celebration of their lifestyle. Whereas, to others, it showed one kind of gay life that seemed a bit sad.

Personally I found that I didn't identify with any of the gay male characters. But it was certainly a thrill to see Gay Manchester featured in such a high-profile and top-quality production. Whatever your views about the way it portrays us, Queer As Folk is a milestone in TV history and a classic series.

The following year I was an extra on the second series of Queer As Folk. See if you can spot me in the scenes at the wedding reception! More info and some pictures here.

GARYSEVENUK.COM

In December 1999 I launched this website. It was inspired by SeanPatrickLive and Rex's World. I'd had a couple of personal sites before, but nothing like the huge site that this has become.

It reflects one part of me: the gay part. But is not a complete picture of me and never will be. This is probably a British thing... But I could never have the kind of site that some guys do. With porn or pictures of them jerking off on one page and photos of their family, who don't even know about the website, on the next! But it'll be interesting to see where my site goes in the coming years.

THE FUTURE OF THE GAY SCENE

It seems to me that the 'scene' has really only ever been aimed at one section of the gay population -- those people who enjoy hanging out in pubs and clubs. Everything else is 'mainstream': theatres, cinemas, restaurants. All of which can sometimes have a 'gay' aspect: a stage production of La Cage Au Folles, a gay-themed film, a gay waiter! Attempts to create other types of specifically gay meeting places (such as a community centre), never seemed to work well. Truth is, most people didn't want or need them.

In the past, gay bars and clubs were a safe place where people could go and be sure to meet other gay men or women, while staying out of public view. Some didn't particularly like bars and clubs, but they went just the same, because they wanted to meet others. I think the venues in days gone by were a little more welcoming for older people too.

Now it's a different story... When more than 50% of the people in a 'gay' bar are straight, when you can't tell the straight men from the gay men and when you can talk to a straight man or woman in any bar across the city and be open about being gay, what is the point of a 'gay' bar or club? The current young generation is happy to mix -- and why not? And in the much more open atmosphere of today, there are many more opportunities to meet similar people in all aspects of everyday life.

There is already one empty, boarded-up venue on Canal Street. This is just the start of a process that will see the end of it as a 'gay' street. Possibly the end of it as a street of bars. Just see what happens if we get hit by a recession...

I think in the short term, we may see some new venues in less expensive parts of the city, catering exclusively for gay men and women and offering something a bit less sterile, because a lot are tired of the 'freak show for hetrosexuals' that Canal Street has become. Watch the area around Tariff Street and Ancoats (you heard it here first!). And perhaps there will always be specialist venues for those who are interested in leather etc. But I do think there will be few gay pubs, clubs and specifically gay businesses ten years from now.

FINALLY...

As for me, when I walked out of the relationship in 1992, I never thought I would be single for all these years. But life changes, you adjust to something different (it can take a little while after almost nine years) and enjoy it just as much. I have no regrets about anything I have done in the last twenty years. I found that, in the relationship, there were more extreme 'highs' and 'lows' in my life. Whereas, as a single person, I tread a more level, happy, path.

So, for the moment, I'm still here in Manchester and in Britain. My mum died in 2004 and my dad is aged in his 70's. We are a small, close family. But, five years from now, I see myself living in the Caribbean, Portugal, Spain or France, because I really don't like the way Britain is heading these days.

As for being gay, that, the scene and the whole notion of a gay community is becoming less relevant to me and my life as the years go by. And I don't believe this is simply because I am getting older. I believe more men and women of all ages are going to feel this way in the future.

In a sense I have always struggled to 'fit in' as gay and wondered what the hell it was all about. 'Gay' was only what I did in bed, the bars and clubs that we went to for a few hours each week and the free newspapers that I read occasionally. I could see the point of fighting for equality or fund-raising to help gay men with HIV. But, otherwise, there never seemed to be much of substance to latch onto.

Truth is, it is just one part of me. Smaller than, say, my interest in photography or film-making. For me, shooting a great photo, or cutting together a terrific video sequence, can be just as mind-blowing and satisfying as sex. So maybe that is why I channel a lot of my energy into being creative, rather than hanging out at a local gay bar.

Now if I could find another man who enjoyed taking photos, film-making and sex (and no I don't mean all three at the the same time!)... That could be pretty explosive!

Get in touch

Full details on my contact page.