Then God said, "Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of all the earth, and every tree which has fruit yielding seed; it shall be for your nourishment" Genesis 1:29
My dad is a conservative Republican and I love him! I have already received what I can only assume as a cease and desist email from him about my blog (the day I posted it) which I didn't read (sorry dad). When did emails replace a phone call? Especially If it's important....call me.
I didn't read it out of disrespect or lack of love, but this is not the first time he has
been upset about something I posted. At the exact same time I got a text from
my mom who said "Happy Valentines Day we love you." So I figured the
two communications at once canceled each other out. I love you mom and dad.
How can anyone be upset about my blog when they have to log onto my address and hit I agree to read it? I may be considered a renegade Christian...but hey guys we are on the same team. I have no agenda.
No one in my life needs to worry I am going to write about them using real first and last names. I am not gonna tell anyone's secrets except my own. Yesterday, as my friend Fred was exiting the new vehicle God gave me, he turned and said, "A secret can't be hurt you....if you tell it first"
So here I go........(deep breath)....(drum roll please)....are you ready? Sitting down? Liquids set down Okay, here we go..............
Thursday I got my hair cut, and half way through, the stylist handed me a developed pic of a hot naked guy. You could not see his face.. The guy in the picture had a fantastic body and a large d*ck.
Wondering why he was handing me this pic out of the blue, I casually said "He has a nice one......" till I realized handing it back...uh...choke....gasp...uh ....UH..ERRRRRR that pic was of me, that's my d*ck!
Horrified....more like mortified...I realized the person who snapped the pic (then developed it) did so without me knowing. I tried playing it off but I assure you I was some kind of angry inside. A friendly acquaintance (not a close friend) associated with a person who criminally stalked me, took a nude pic of me while I was innocently going to take a shower and developed it. I felt betrayed!!!
Oh there was a war going on in my soul as I was getting the finishing touches on the hatchet job they did on my hair. Okay now I am just being mad again, by recounting the betrayal and reliving the poisoning from the stalker (they did a great job on my hair). This was a below the belt punch though...and oh man I wanted to blow up. But the power of God restrained me. It was all I could do to get out of there and breathe fresh air again!
I am going to have exercise forgiveness and walk in love but this is big time grow up stuff here. My flesh wanted to cuss everyone out.
The good news is my face is not in the pic, no one can tell its me (unless u have seen me nude). There are no (on purpose) pics taken by someone else of me nude. I have never done porn and don't own any.
As I left, walking to my car I said out loud..."What now God...how can anyone take me serious? It's all over," knowing the devil has just taken his best shot at my confidence!
But it backfired and strengthened me because of the simple answer God gave me to this dilemma.. There is no problem too big that God cannot solve. I am more confident than ever in Christ (not me) and stand on the solution he gave me.
Ever so sweetly the Holy Spirit whispered in my heart "It's not over....not if you tell the truth, stand on my credibility...I am Truth." . So that's my secret ...there is a headless pic (from last December when I was criminally stalked and the person is serving time) out there of me nude that I did not take. I did not authorize it or know it was developed. I am tempted to say the name of the person who did it, but I am going to overcome evil with good like the bible teaches.
It was a blatant disregard of privacy (I considered pressing charges and I will if someone ever tried to sell it...or sue them for defamation and let the money from the lawsuit go to charity) but perhaps I am over reacting. I trust God! That's my only line of defense I trust God and i am going to take the high road on this one...
Literally! A wake and bake (taking my green vitamins THC) can be fun before dawn...or early morn
Which reminds me the pic is not the reason why I even started this post this morning and I have 10 minutes to finish my original idea, make my bed, smoke a fatty and get to the gym to work out before I meet scientist #2 for our morning date.
I do need to say here and now though, I have feelings for someone on the coast but until we get some alone time together I am agreeing to dates when I am asked. I think about the person at the coast a lot and am drawn to them. But my words get me in trouble and who knows if I already killed it with a text.
Gosh, I am so ADHD...there are now only 4 minutes to leave for the gym, so i am gonna make this quick so I can enjoy my herbal therapy and leave.
Since Republicans are the geniuses at fiscal issues, (while us liberals are busy hugging trees ) why haven't they taken the initiative to quit outlawing a plant that God gave us? (Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed that is on the surface of all the earth) Republicans could regulate the growth, harvest and sale of marijuana, tax (the hell out of it) it and use the money to fund universal healthcare.
Come on North Carolina...we are a proud tobacco state, Winston Salem (the town) is in the center of our borders . I know there are more than pine trees growing up there in the Appalachian Mountains. We use lottery money (gambling) to fund Education, let's consider being the leaders in universal health care and legalize marijuana to cover the cost.
It could be regulated like alcohol, we could quit spitting in God's eye by decriminalizing his seed bearing plant. We would never ever ever run out of money for health care. Republicans...come on, you are proven to be more interested in how we spend our money! You could be the heroes of universal health care and satisfy us bleeding heart liberals (or so my dad call us).
Gotta run...have a good day and be a blessing everywhere you go!
Saturday, February 22, 2014
Friday, February 21, 2014
From the crack pipe to the church piano bench (SONG INCLUDED)
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." Psalm 23:4
"My hands were still shaking when I showed the president of my college the email yesterday from the DJ that read: I talked to the owner of Party 934 Radio and He is exited to be chosen to debut your song "What Love Can Do" on the air.
My blog, simply telling encounters with God is going viral. Its big news. U r the first person I have told, I feel connected to u. Hopefully everything else....could, and will fall in place...I don't need another Pastor, I want something else....." Text sent from me Wed Feb 19th 12:20 pm to the coast.
________________________________________________________
Rev Ed (name change for privacy) was the first Pastor in a Methodist church that I met, that had to be careful of standing close to candles...or he might go up in flame. My gaydar flew off the charts when we first spoke. He is an awesome preacher, but like myself...when he opens his mouth....Judy Garland's purse falls out.
I was a volunteer in a new Praise team launching a contemporary service. I was migrating from the gay church downtown with a sound engineer & pretty Ms Golden Voice, as our lick-alot-of-pus (lesbian) leader.
I asked pretty Ms Golden Voice, if Rev Ed was gay since we were in a Methodist Church and I was unfamiliar with their acceptance policy. She nodded and said, Well Jamie I think so", with that big toothy smile...but it's a mystery...and really none of my business.
I got busted in the sanctuary (sleeping below the altar) one Tuesday evening waiting hours for rehearsal to start by Rev Ed. He was his usual charming self and before long I was at the piano giving him my testimony about how I foolishly tried cocaine in Florida.
Describing what I was like during my active addiction 20 years ago, is like talking about someone else I used to know. I became a monster crack addict and I did hustle briefly. I screamed at God for letting me get so sick and lose everything.
Instead of delivering me, God chose to walk with me though the valley (of the shadow of death) and out onto the other side into Victory.
It doesn't say in Psalm 23:4 "Yea though I walk around the valley, or stuck in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death" It says "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death".
God chose on purpose to let me get 2 DUIs in 2 hours one night (on my way to the hood to score) to get my attention. It was time to face everything and recover. Time for a fresh start, 2nd chances and new beginnings.
I knew life would be different laying on the jail floor that night and several nights after. 7 years no license...shook the demon of cocaine from my core. I described to Rev Ed how God rescued, corrected, forgave, and healed me. How He made me a songwriter keeping His promise to give me beauty for my ashes.
I asked if Rev Ed would sit and listen to the song I wrote about my crack recovery. He slowly sat down in a pew just a few feet away from me in the dark sanctuary, and nodded yes. You could sense the electric presence from the Holy Spirit in the room, after basically confessing I got my d*ck sucked for crack money. I was in tears...
;
Knowing I was forgiven and no longer the same man....I closed my eyes and played and sang him my song about recovering. It is called, "God Has Not forgotten Me". I heard an echo from my voice bouncing off the ceiling, and felt wamth from the only light shining through stain glass down onto my forehead (from 2 stories above).
I opened my mouth and sang: click on the following link below to hear the song
God Has Not Forgotten Me https://mysp.ac/Gays?pl
Sometimes it seems i don't understand
I wonder about who I am
I want to do right but often fail
Many a nightmare I've lived to tell
But one things for sure
through all of my years
hang onto my faith when i cry my tears cause
God has not forgotten me.....
(chorus)
From this moment and then beyond
my heart will sing to you a song
cleanse me God of all my wrong
your mercy and grace
destroy anger and hate
my prayer and trust
grow into faith,
God has not forgotten me
Sometimes the sun just won't shine
Sometimes my fears can make me blind
my feelings can lie to me
I want to beieve what my spirit sees
That what I am not
He already is
What I don't have
is already His
God has not forgotten me (to chorus)
(Bridge)
when you fall down
and no one's around
believe in God
your already found
cause one thing I ve learned
through all of my years
hang onto my faith
while I cry my tears
God has not fogotten me
(to chorus end)
When it was over there were tears in his eyes and he stood up and approached me at the piano bench and said, "Jamie...a lot of doors will open for you someday, you have a gift from God. Look at people in the eyes when they compliment you and don't look down and be bashful. Shake their hand and sincerely say thank you, because your really saying thank you to God who gave you the gift. True humility isn't an act." And with that he handed me a set of keys that unlocked the entire campus of the Methodist Church, and left me alone with God.
The last Sunday I remember hearing Rev Ed preach, (I don't know where he is now except on FB)...we were singing a new song at the closing of a service, that just bombed. Trying to get 100 white people at 8 :45 am to clap in rhythm to a African American Spiritual was purely pitiful and quite fankly ugly and embarrassing.
Sensing the praise team's utter disappointment Rev Ed stood for the benediction, lifted his hand towards heaven and said "Father....forgive us for being white!"
I screamed all the way to my car laughing and I wasn't the only one
(check back for a link to the song referenced in this post I will upload it to mypace )
 |
| Valentine's Day 2014 |
"My hands were still shaking when I showed the president of my college the email yesterday from the DJ that read: I talked to the owner of Party 934 Radio and He is exited to be chosen to debut your song "What Love Can Do" on the air.
My blog, simply telling encounters with God is going viral. Its big news. U r the first person I have told, I feel connected to u. Hopefully everything else....could, and will fall in place...I don't need another Pastor, I want something else....." Text sent from me Wed Feb 19th 12:20 pm to the coast.
________________________________________________________
Rev Ed (name change for privacy) was the first Pastor in a Methodist church that I met, that had to be careful of standing close to candles...or he might go up in flame. My gaydar flew off the charts when we first spoke. He is an awesome preacher, but like myself...when he opens his mouth....Judy Garland's purse falls out.
I was a volunteer in a new Praise team launching a contemporary service. I was migrating from the gay church downtown with a sound engineer & pretty Ms Golden Voice, as our lick-alot-of-pus (lesbian) leader.
I asked pretty Ms Golden Voice, if Rev Ed was gay since we were in a Methodist Church and I was unfamiliar with their acceptance policy. She nodded and said, Well Jamie I think so", with that big toothy smile...but it's a mystery...and really none of my business.
I got busted in the sanctuary (sleeping below the altar) one Tuesday evening waiting hours for rehearsal to start by Rev Ed. He was his usual charming self and before long I was at the piano giving him my testimony about how I foolishly tried cocaine in Florida.
Describing what I was like during my active addiction 20 years ago, is like talking about someone else I used to know. I became a monster crack addict and I did hustle briefly. I screamed at God for letting me get so sick and lose everything.
Instead of delivering me, God chose to walk with me though the valley (of the shadow of death) and out onto the other side into Victory.
It doesn't say in Psalm 23:4 "Yea though I walk around the valley, or stuck in the middle of the valley of the shadow of death" It says "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death".
God chose on purpose to let me get 2 DUIs in 2 hours one night (on my way to the hood to score) to get my attention. It was time to face everything and recover. Time for a fresh start, 2nd chances and new beginnings.
I knew life would be different laying on the jail floor that night and several nights after. 7 years no license...shook the demon of cocaine from my core. I described to Rev Ed how God rescued, corrected, forgave, and healed me. How He made me a songwriter keeping His promise to give me beauty for my ashes.
I asked if Rev Ed would sit and listen to the song I wrote about my crack recovery. He slowly sat down in a pew just a few feet away from me in the dark sanctuary, and nodded yes. You could sense the electric presence from the Holy Spirit in the room, after basically confessing I got my d*ck sucked for crack money. I was in tears...
;
Knowing I was forgiven and no longer the same man....I closed my eyes and played and sang him my song about recovering. It is called, "God Has Not forgotten Me". I heard an echo from my voice bouncing off the ceiling, and felt wamth from the only light shining through stain glass down onto my forehead (from 2 stories above).
I opened my mouth and sang: click on the following link below to hear the song
God Has Not Forgotten Me https://mysp.ac/Gays?pl
Sometimes it seems i don't understand
I wonder about who I am
I want to do right but often fail
Many a nightmare I've lived to tell
But one things for sure
through all of my years
hang onto my faith when i cry my tears cause
God has not forgotten me.....
(chorus)
From this moment and then beyond
my heart will sing to you a song
cleanse me God of all my wrong
your mercy and grace
destroy anger and hate
my prayer and trust
grow into faith,
God has not forgotten me
Sometimes the sun just won't shine
Sometimes my fears can make me blind
my feelings can lie to me
I want to beieve what my spirit sees
That what I am not
He already is
What I don't have
is already His
God has not forgotten me (to chorus)
(Bridge)
when you fall down
and no one's around
believe in God
your already found
cause one thing I ve learned
through all of my years
hang onto my faith
while I cry my tears
God has not fogotten me
(to chorus end)
When it was over there were tears in his eyes and he stood up and approached me at the piano bench and said, "Jamie...a lot of doors will open for you someday, you have a gift from God. Look at people in the eyes when they compliment you and don't look down and be bashful. Shake their hand and sincerely say thank you, because your really saying thank you to God who gave you the gift. True humility isn't an act." And with that he handed me a set of keys that unlocked the entire campus of the Methodist Church, and left me alone with God.
The last Sunday I remember hearing Rev Ed preach, (I don't know where he is now except on FB)...we were singing a new song at the closing of a service, that just bombed. Trying to get 100 white people at 8 :45 am to clap in rhythm to a African American Spiritual was purely pitiful and quite fankly ugly and embarrassing.
Sensing the praise team's utter disappointment Rev Ed stood for the benediction, lifted his hand towards heaven and said "Father....forgive us for being white!"
I screamed all the way to my car laughing and I wasn't the only one
(check back for a link to the song referenced in this post I will upload it to mypace )
Monday, February 17, 2014
Dancing on the backside of Dolly Parton's boobs
"...with my God I can scale a wall" Psalm 18:29
My school (Living Arts College) looks like Dolly Parton's boobs (full and round) when I am having lunch at Wendy's on the hill above, and can't see the 3rd dome. I love it!!! Wait not Dolly Parton's boobs...yuck...but my school.
Its a hotbed of creative energy, the professors are abundant with talent. The administration leads by example, utilizing strategic decision making skills displaying only the utmost of professionalism.
Its not just a creative school. We also have a medical arts program. Daily u see medical students in their costumes...uh..I mean scrubs while toting around luggage on wheels full of textbooks. They must think I'm from Saturn, at least the ones in the parking lot this afternoon..
You see...none of my film partners showed up....again today! I still had wardrobe for two more scenes. Don't ask a former professional female impersonator known throughout Florida for doing flips in 6 inch heels to perform on camera without taking it seriously. My stage identity has changed since my 20's. Now my brand is garden variety Christian, who happens to be a "gay jock", verging on "young daddy" with each new gray hair. I retired my heels years ago but I still rely on lessons I learned in the club scene to help navigate my way through the creative process.
Actually I need to rephrase that.
I meant, I still rely on the same lessons God taught me back when I was full blown Miss Jamie Montoya. Lessons like how to handle fierce competition, rejection, criticism, and crickets after a performance. Lessons on how to compose myself when painstakingly nervous and break on through to the other side of courage when facing public challenges.
But today it still stung to be older than even my professor...and have both my project partners MIA and no one to help me film. My professor's no filter work ethic and expectation is achievable. His back handed compliments (without being mean) can yank the slack out of any chain. Today he gave me a solution to my filming project while lighting a fire in me to get it done
"Just drive around and film footage of pretty things. Its called B roll", he said, as I was exiting Dolly Parton's boobs...uh I mean the domes carrying the camera and tripod.
Snow is still on the ground but it had warmed to 46 degrees when I found the spot to film. I was feeling sorry for myself being alone and had to really shake off the pity party I was being invited to attend. I knew I wasn't alone. God was with me as I carried my wall mirror, backpack of clothes and bags of shoes, hats, and sunglasses through the briers by the pond trying to find good light.
I began singing Michael W Smith's "You are Holy, Prince of Peace" to chase away my blues. I have just learned and memorized the girls part to the chorus and it is so awesome...like a cheer.
I began singing out loud..."You are Lord of Lords, you are King of Kings, your are mighty God Lord of everything, your Emmanuel, Your the great I am, your the Prince of Peace who is the lamb, Your my saving power, your my saving grace, you will reign forever, you are Ancient of Days, you are alpha omega beginning and end, your my Savior, Messiah, my Redeemer and friend...your my Prince of Peace and I will live my life for you!" Singing this worked and my blues were gone.
After setting up, and seconds before filming, I lifted my head to the sky and plead to the Holy Spirit. It was a one word open eyed bullet prayer....help!
When I turned to start the camera, the fading scripture I wrote on my hands yesterday came into view as I reached to focus.. It read "...with my God I can scale a wall" Psalm 18:29. This was all the motivation I needed to get the job done.
From the first note of the song, I was in character, energized by my alone time with God. I danced on the side of that hill singing at the top of my lungs, hoping to God I was in the shot because the Holy Spirit was my choreographer, my location manager, my audio tech, my director and my camera man.
My song is classic full blown rock with jamming guitars, bass and kicking drums. There is a big bridge, and an over the top last chorus. I assure you, this former showgirl let loose with both barrels. I used the sun as my spotlight, and I was center stage. I was jumping up and down a hill, doing spins, dancing my heart out, on the back side of Dolly Parton's boobs with only God as my audience.
At least I thought He was my only audience, till I spun around and saw a line of medical students in scrubs walking to their cars catching me mid song. Several stopped (with mouth's hung wide open in disbelief) and watched me essentially flame out by myself in front of a camera, singing to no one and totally enjoying it.
I didn't even flinch when they saw me. I have been anesthetized to interruptions on stage. Lesbians are notorious for getting up mid performance and barging across center stage, in front of a queen performing (like they aren't there), just to get a beer. At least medical students aren't rude. Besides, I have blazed many a trail. If anything, I now had a captive audience.
Those students stood there through the rest of my song. probably thinking I was from Saturn.
My school (Living Arts College) looks like Dolly Parton's boobs (full and round) when I am having lunch at Wendy's on the hill above, and can't see the 3rd dome. I love it!!! Wait not Dolly Parton's boobs...yuck...but my school.
Its a hotbed of creative energy, the professors are abundant with talent. The administration leads by example, utilizing strategic decision making skills displaying only the utmost of professionalism.
Its not just a creative school. We also have a medical arts program. Daily u see medical students in their costumes...uh..I mean scrubs while toting around luggage on wheels full of textbooks. They must think I'm from Saturn, at least the ones in the parking lot this afternoon..
You see...none of my film partners showed up....again today! I still had wardrobe for two more scenes. Don't ask a former professional female impersonator known throughout Florida for doing flips in 6 inch heels to perform on camera without taking it seriously. My stage identity has changed since my 20's. Now my brand is garden variety Christian, who happens to be a "gay jock", verging on "young daddy" with each new gray hair. I retired my heels years ago but I still rely on lessons I learned in the club scene to help navigate my way through the creative process.
Actually I need to rephrase that.
I meant, I still rely on the same lessons God taught me back when I was full blown Miss Jamie Montoya. Lessons like how to handle fierce competition, rejection, criticism, and crickets after a performance. Lessons on how to compose myself when painstakingly nervous and break on through to the other side of courage when facing public challenges.
But today it still stung to be older than even my professor...and have both my project partners MIA and no one to help me film. My professor's no filter work ethic and expectation is achievable. His back handed compliments (without being mean) can yank the slack out of any chain. Today he gave me a solution to my filming project while lighting a fire in me to get it done
"Just drive around and film footage of pretty things. Its called B roll", he said, as I was exiting Dolly Parton's boobs...uh I mean the domes carrying the camera and tripod.
Snow is still on the ground but it had warmed to 46 degrees when I found the spot to film. I was feeling sorry for myself being alone and had to really shake off the pity party I was being invited to attend. I knew I wasn't alone. God was with me as I carried my wall mirror, backpack of clothes and bags of shoes, hats, and sunglasses through the briers by the pond trying to find good light.
I began singing Michael W Smith's "You are Holy, Prince of Peace" to chase away my blues. I have just learned and memorized the girls part to the chorus and it is so awesome...like a cheer.
I began singing out loud..."You are Lord of Lords, you are King of Kings, your are mighty God Lord of everything, your Emmanuel, Your the great I am, your the Prince of Peace who is the lamb, Your my saving power, your my saving grace, you will reign forever, you are Ancient of Days, you are alpha omega beginning and end, your my Savior, Messiah, my Redeemer and friend...your my Prince of Peace and I will live my life for you!" Singing this worked and my blues were gone.
After setting up, and seconds before filming, I lifted my head to the sky and plead to the Holy Spirit. It was a one word open eyed bullet prayer....help!
When I turned to start the camera, the fading scripture I wrote on my hands yesterday came into view as I reached to focus.. It read "...with my God I can scale a wall" Psalm 18:29. This was all the motivation I needed to get the job done.
From the first note of the song, I was in character, energized by my alone time with God. I danced on the side of that hill singing at the top of my lungs, hoping to God I was in the shot because the Holy Spirit was my choreographer, my location manager, my audio tech, my director and my camera man.
My song is classic full blown rock with jamming guitars, bass and kicking drums. There is a big bridge, and an over the top last chorus. I assure you, this former showgirl let loose with both barrels. I used the sun as my spotlight, and I was center stage. I was jumping up and down a hill, doing spins, dancing my heart out, on the back side of Dolly Parton's boobs with only God as my audience.
At least I thought He was my only audience, till I spun around and saw a line of medical students in scrubs walking to their cars catching me mid song. Several stopped (with mouth's hung wide open in disbelief) and watched me essentially flame out by myself in front of a camera, singing to no one and totally enjoying it.
I didn't even flinch when they saw me. I have been anesthetized to interruptions on stage. Lesbians are notorious for getting up mid performance and barging across center stage, in front of a queen performing (like they aren't there), just to get a beer. At least medical students aren't rude. Besides, I have blazed many a trail. If anything, I now had a captive audience.
Those students stood there through the rest of my song. probably thinking I was from Saturn.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
The day I landed my recording contract
I'm convinced that He who began a good work in me, will be faithful to complete it. Philippians 1:6
There was always the strange smell of sewer water in the booth, that my least favorite guest (I had to wait on) would sit. Jane my boss did everything she could to spray away the smell, but it always returned. Working at Lonestar in Cary NC off Kildaire farm road (in what is now an IHOP) was always a trip...to say the least.
As usual in most restaurants, the cook sold all the good pot, so we were stoned half the time we waited tables. We would regularly make a pipe out of a raw potato and tin foil, then smoked up in the walk in cooler or the trash bin outside.
I considered working at Lonestar as my very own version of seminary, where God was teaching me to love the unlovely. Waiting tables sucks out loud and God taught me many a lesson on how to swallow my pride and be His representative to hateful, ungrateful customers by walking in love.
Lonestar was also the closest restaurant to where Louis and I lived. I was currently on the "2 foot express" after losing my driving license for 7 years (getting 2 DUIs in 2 hours). So I used the time to walk home from work (at 4 pm) to listen to the demos of songs I had just written and recorded in my home studio.
I was also on my last year of being a volunteer at Highland United Methodist Church singing and playing in their contemporary service searching for my next place in life musically.
John, the picky mean ole nasty guest (that always asked to sit in the sewer smelling booth and for me to wait on him), had a guest with him today. A large friendly old man who actually looked at me in the eye when I came for their drink order.
I had another regular guest (from White Plains United Methodist Church down the street) who always asked for me to wait on her and her deaf husband. She always used a coupon and loved hearing my stories about where I was singing, my trips to Nashville and my dreams of being a worship leader. She was sitting directly behind John and his guest that day in my sewer smelling section.
I was excited to tell her about the combined service we were doing at Highland, where we actually got to leave the gym and sing in the sanctuary. My director (Jeff) was letting me sing a song I had written that he would accompany. I am such a chatty Cathy, that I didn't realize while spilling my story excitedly, that others would be listening.
When I returned to John's table (the picky mean ole guest with his friend) to bring their drinks, I heard, "So, your a songwriter? Do you have any of your original songs with you," the nice bigger guy asked?
"I sure do," I said, "I have my CD walk man in my coat under the computer...why? Do you want to hear one".
"Sure Jamie, do you know who this is?" the bigger guy asked pointing to John (the picky mean ole guest)
With a smile in my eye (knowing I was sugar coating the truth since he was difficult, but obeying Jesus and not complaining and walking in love) I said, "Yeah this is John Phillips, one of my favorite guests, he tips great!
"Yes this is John, my brother. It's also Neil Young's publishing lawyer and a heavyweight in the music industry. Go get your headphones, let us hear your songs, oh and I need some sweetener for my tea."
I was walking on adrenalin and freaking out in my head when I returned to the table with my headphones, walk man and Equal sweetener. I tried acting calm, but come on, I am Jamie Montoya, (bull in a china shop), my friends had to Jamie proof their room in college when I came over..there was nothing graceful about handing over my music.
At this point I had completely forgotten about any other table I was tending to, and went outside by the trash bin, looked in the sky and said, "Okay Jesus...this has to be you! I hold up everything you are and nothing I am. I promise that I will always point to you and give you the glory, because I am convinced that, You who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it!"
After I prayed, I took a hit of pot from the raw potato pipe the cook hid for us servers, to calm my nerves and went back inside.
The place seemed busier and everything was in slow motion. I have performed in front of thousands of people, up and down the eastern seaboard and across the country for years, but never was I so nervous as I returned to the table. Oh gosh, don't let me have a booger in my nose, help God...what do I say?
The headphones were sitting on the edge of the table and someone had already delivered their meal. I was obligated to go up and check on their steaks anyway, because John usually sent his back twice.
"How is everything fellas," I squeaked?
They had a different expression on their face, and John for the first time, turned and looked at me in the eye.
"Did you really write that song Full Steam Grace and Liberty's Spirit" he questioned me in his most authoritative lawyer tone?
"I sure did, and I poor man copyrighted them by sending the lyrics and chord chart to myself in the mail, makng it legal through the post office so the dated stamped on the envelope proves that I wrote these songs." I said in a voice that came from somewhere deep inside.
"First off, we need to register these songs. Do you have ten more like it?"
"Yes yes I do, I used to think songwriters were geniuses until I prayed for God to restore my talent after retiring my high heels. God did more than that. He turned me into a songwriter." I answered, and as usual always giving way too many details.
"I would like to offer you a recording contract, here and now Jamie Montoya. Sign this napkin with your signature as intent on letting me publish your music. Dont let anyone else hear your songs and meet me at my office first thing Monday morning"
I came to work that morning just regular Jamie Montoya. I left that afternoon (doing cartwheels) as Jamie Montoya the recording artist.
Thus began a journey of my life, that is still developing.
There was always the strange smell of sewer water in the booth, that my least favorite guest (I had to wait on) would sit. Jane my boss did everything she could to spray away the smell, but it always returned. Working at Lonestar in Cary NC off Kildaire farm road (in what is now an IHOP) was always a trip...to say the least.
As usual in most restaurants, the cook sold all the good pot, so we were stoned half the time we waited tables. We would regularly make a pipe out of a raw potato and tin foil, then smoked up in the walk in cooler or the trash bin outside.
I considered working at Lonestar as my very own version of seminary, where God was teaching me to love the unlovely. Waiting tables sucks out loud and God taught me many a lesson on how to swallow my pride and be His representative to hateful, ungrateful customers by walking in love.
Lonestar was also the closest restaurant to where Louis and I lived. I was currently on the "2 foot express" after losing my driving license for 7 years (getting 2 DUIs in 2 hours). So I used the time to walk home from work (at 4 pm) to listen to the demos of songs I had just written and recorded in my home studio.
I was also on my last year of being a volunteer at Highland United Methodist Church singing and playing in their contemporary service searching for my next place in life musically.
John, the picky mean ole nasty guest (that always asked to sit in the sewer smelling booth and for me to wait on him), had a guest with him today. A large friendly old man who actually looked at me in the eye when I came for their drink order.
I had another regular guest (from White Plains United Methodist Church down the street) who always asked for me to wait on her and her deaf husband. She always used a coupon and loved hearing my stories about where I was singing, my trips to Nashville and my dreams of being a worship leader. She was sitting directly behind John and his guest that day in my sewer smelling section.
I was excited to tell her about the combined service we were doing at Highland, where we actually got to leave the gym and sing in the sanctuary. My director (Jeff) was letting me sing a song I had written that he would accompany. I am such a chatty Cathy, that I didn't realize while spilling my story excitedly, that others would be listening.
When I returned to John's table (the picky mean ole guest with his friend) to bring their drinks, I heard, "So, your a songwriter? Do you have any of your original songs with you," the nice bigger guy asked?
"I sure do," I said, "I have my CD walk man in my coat under the computer...why? Do you want to hear one".
"Sure Jamie, do you know who this is?" the bigger guy asked pointing to John (the picky mean ole guest)
With a smile in my eye (knowing I was sugar coating the truth since he was difficult, but obeying Jesus and not complaining and walking in love) I said, "Yeah this is John Phillips, one of my favorite guests, he tips great!
"Yes this is John, my brother. It's also Neil Young's publishing lawyer and a heavyweight in the music industry. Go get your headphones, let us hear your songs, oh and I need some sweetener for my tea."
I was walking on adrenalin and freaking out in my head when I returned to the table with my headphones, walk man and Equal sweetener. I tried acting calm, but come on, I am Jamie Montoya, (bull in a china shop), my friends had to Jamie proof their room in college when I came over..there was nothing graceful about handing over my music.
At this point I had completely forgotten about any other table I was tending to, and went outside by the trash bin, looked in the sky and said, "Okay Jesus...this has to be you! I hold up everything you are and nothing I am. I promise that I will always point to you and give you the glory, because I am convinced that, You who began a good work in me will be faithful to complete it!"
After I prayed, I took a hit of pot from the raw potato pipe the cook hid for us servers, to calm my nerves and went back inside.
The place seemed busier and everything was in slow motion. I have performed in front of thousands of people, up and down the eastern seaboard and across the country for years, but never was I so nervous as I returned to the table. Oh gosh, don't let me have a booger in my nose, help God...what do I say?
The headphones were sitting on the edge of the table and someone had already delivered their meal. I was obligated to go up and check on their steaks anyway, because John usually sent his back twice.
"How is everything fellas," I squeaked?
They had a different expression on their face, and John for the first time, turned and looked at me in the eye.
"Did you really write that song Full Steam Grace and Liberty's Spirit" he questioned me in his most authoritative lawyer tone?
"I sure did, and I poor man copyrighted them by sending the lyrics and chord chart to myself in the mail, makng it legal through the post office so the dated stamped on the envelope proves that I wrote these songs." I said in a voice that came from somewhere deep inside.
"First off, we need to register these songs. Do you have ten more like it?"
"Yes yes I do, I used to think songwriters were geniuses until I prayed for God to restore my talent after retiring my high heels. God did more than that. He turned me into a songwriter." I answered, and as usual always giving way too many details.
"I would like to offer you a recording contract, here and now Jamie Montoya. Sign this napkin with your signature as intent on letting me publish your music. Dont let anyone else hear your songs and meet me at my office first thing Monday morning"
I came to work that morning just regular Jamie Montoya. I left that afternoon (doing cartwheels) as Jamie Montoya the recording artist.
Thus began a journey of my life, that is still developing.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Valentines Day 2014
"Blessed are those who are mocked and persecuted because of me" Jesus said, "Be happy about it, for a great reward awaits you in heaven." (Matthew 5:11)
Scientist #1 met me at the door of their pad today (Valentines day) wearing only a black jock and a smile. I had been avoiding intimacy with scientist #1 on purpose. My Christian gay friend Willis (who I dated) advised me to hold off on sex with scientist #1 to avoid any confusion about my intentions.
Sex is temporary. It's like going to the bathroom with someone, except instead of a yellow liquid that comes out of my privates, it's white (or clear depending on what I have eaten). True love is about emotional intimacy first, then physical. Okay who am I kidding? I am gay sometimes it can start with a slap and tickle!
I want to experience true love again, the kind worth fighting for, the kind that great novels and movies are written about. The kind of love I had with Brian my first partner from age 19 to 27.
It was a divine appointment when Brian and I met. My parents had all but disowned me for being gay and I had to drop out of my 2nd University. God knew I needed someone extra special to follow me to my destiny, someone who could handle my outgoing personality without jealousy, my love for Christ, and encourage me to grow as an artist.
I was bar tending underage shirtless at the Shamrock Phase II (mix gay bar) across from the state capital building in Madison Wisconsin. I was leaving for my 15 minute break to go out to my car and smoke some herb, when the hot straight guy (Brian) I had been serving asked if he could join me. I said sure why not? He was exactly my age, beautiful and had no filter when it came to telling his opinion or the truth. He made me laugh which is important. A sense of humor can charm me.
I loaded the bowl and handed him the pipe in the car when he suddenly got upset.
"I can't smoke pot dude, I am in school for police science, I am going to be a cop," he half yelled at me. Abruptly he exited my vehicle with a grunt and slammed the door.
I was mortified!!! How could I go back in the bar and continue to serve him? So mortified...but oh well I shrugged, and smoked two bowls of pot before gathering my nerves and returning inside. Sure enough there he sat smoking a cigarette with those hot beady eyes glaring at me like a juror facing their convicted criminal.
He said something to me and I pretended not to hear, till that no filter mouth of his wouldn't leave me alone. I turned and asked, "What did you say straightee" defensively? After all I was the bartender hired solely on my looks. I was one of JJ's (the owners) boys, I had also won the title of Mr Shamrock singing Elton John's "The Last Song" so I had the upper hand! He was on my turf.
Brian repeated himself, over emphasizing his mouth and spoke r-e-a-l..s..l..o..w...to emphasize his words. He said, "You ought to wear tighter pants dude so I can see your ass and I am not straight...would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow?"
The rest is history...we built a home together, moved from Wisconsin to Tampa together, he worked 3 jobs to support me while I paid my dues in rehearsals and talent shows trying to get my big break in show business. He was a dream, and when I became successful he became my backbone. We always prayed together and we never broke up....officially...
You see, one Friday night...I never made it home from the show until mid afternoon the next day. He was in our house (one block from Busch Gardens Tampa) on his knees scrubbing the floor when I walked in (which was unusual). He took one look at me and knew I was different, something was wrong, I had changed...he feared he had lost me.
There were 13 burns on my hand from the crack pipe that I so foolishly experimented with the night before. Had I known it was crack I never would have tried it. I was instantly hooked and only Jesus could save me now...
Brian loved me enough to move me to Orlando to survive and recover. He would rather me live and not be with him, then stay in Tampa and die. He cried buckets of tears and I lay in his lap listening to Sandi Patty"s "Hand on My Shoulder" on my relocation trip to Orlando. I did recover from crack too, but only because Brian loved me enough to let me go in God's hands.
There is nothing impossible with God. He walked me through my recovery and I have been free from crack for 14 years with only one relapse. But again that's another story for a different day. This is about finding true love and being single on Valentines Day 2014.
Scientist #1 was undressing me in his foyer this morning, and I had a decision to make. I have the revelation that God created me gay and I am allowed to enjoy myself as long as I don't hurt anyone. I always play safe and carry my party pack (magnum condoms & gun oil lube) with me wherever I go.
But if we scr*w now, then he's not the one. So I caved and took care of scientist #1's itch. Somewhere during the 6th round (me topping only) he looked up at me with crazy eyes and I thought, ooooohhhh sh*t! Red Flag, red flag..crazy eyes...red flag!
I am not trying to gross out any straight people reading. I know talking about gay sex may seem disgusting, but likewise I don't want to know what heteros do behind closed doors. To me its equally as gross imagining the straight version of the slap and tickle. I have always looked at it this way.
Straight people Pro-create
Gay Men Recreate
Scientist #1 met me at the door of their pad today (Valentines day) wearing only a black jock and a smile. I had been avoiding intimacy with scientist #1 on purpose. My Christian gay friend Willis (who I dated) advised me to hold off on sex with scientist #1 to avoid any confusion about my intentions.
Sex is temporary. It's like going to the bathroom with someone, except instead of a yellow liquid that comes out of my privates, it's white (or clear depending on what I have eaten). True love is about emotional intimacy first, then physical. Okay who am I kidding? I am gay sometimes it can start with a slap and tickle!
I want to experience true love again, the kind worth fighting for, the kind that great novels and movies are written about. The kind of love I had with Brian my first partner from age 19 to 27.
It was a divine appointment when Brian and I met. My parents had all but disowned me for being gay and I had to drop out of my 2nd University. God knew I needed someone extra special to follow me to my destiny, someone who could handle my outgoing personality without jealousy, my love for Christ, and encourage me to grow as an artist.
I was bar tending underage shirtless at the Shamrock Phase II (mix gay bar) across from the state capital building in Madison Wisconsin. I was leaving for my 15 minute break to go out to my car and smoke some herb, when the hot straight guy (Brian) I had been serving asked if he could join me. I said sure why not? He was exactly my age, beautiful and had no filter when it came to telling his opinion or the truth. He made me laugh which is important. A sense of humor can charm me.
I loaded the bowl and handed him the pipe in the car when he suddenly got upset.
"I can't smoke pot dude, I am in school for police science, I am going to be a cop," he half yelled at me. Abruptly he exited my vehicle with a grunt and slammed the door.
I was mortified!!! How could I go back in the bar and continue to serve him? So mortified...but oh well I shrugged, and smoked two bowls of pot before gathering my nerves and returning inside. Sure enough there he sat smoking a cigarette with those hot beady eyes glaring at me like a juror facing their convicted criminal.
He said something to me and I pretended not to hear, till that no filter mouth of his wouldn't leave me alone. I turned and asked, "What did you say straightee" defensively? After all I was the bartender hired solely on my looks. I was one of JJ's (the owners) boys, I had also won the title of Mr Shamrock singing Elton John's "The Last Song" so I had the upper hand! He was on my turf.
Brian repeated himself, over emphasizing his mouth and spoke r-e-a-l..s..l..o..w...to emphasize his words. He said, "You ought to wear tighter pants dude so I can see your ass and I am not straight...would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow?"
The rest is history...we built a home together, moved from Wisconsin to Tampa together, he worked 3 jobs to support me while I paid my dues in rehearsals and talent shows trying to get my big break in show business. He was a dream, and when I became successful he became my backbone. We always prayed together and we never broke up....officially...
You see, one Friday night...I never made it home from the show until mid afternoon the next day. He was in our house (one block from Busch Gardens Tampa) on his knees scrubbing the floor when I walked in (which was unusual). He took one look at me and knew I was different, something was wrong, I had changed...he feared he had lost me.
There were 13 burns on my hand from the crack pipe that I so foolishly experimented with the night before. Had I known it was crack I never would have tried it. I was instantly hooked and only Jesus could save me now...
Brian loved me enough to move me to Orlando to survive and recover. He would rather me live and not be with him, then stay in Tampa and die. He cried buckets of tears and I lay in his lap listening to Sandi Patty"s "Hand on My Shoulder" on my relocation trip to Orlando. I did recover from crack too, but only because Brian loved me enough to let me go in God's hands.
There is nothing impossible with God. He walked me through my recovery and I have been free from crack for 14 years with only one relapse. But again that's another story for a different day. This is about finding true love and being single on Valentines Day 2014.
Scientist #1 was undressing me in his foyer this morning, and I had a decision to make. I have the revelation that God created me gay and I am allowed to enjoy myself as long as I don't hurt anyone. I always play safe and carry my party pack (magnum condoms & gun oil lube) with me wherever I go.
But if we scr*w now, then he's not the one. So I caved and took care of scientist #1's itch. Somewhere during the 6th round (me topping only) he looked up at me with crazy eyes and I thought, ooooohhhh sh*t! Red Flag, red flag..crazy eyes...red flag!
I am not trying to gross out any straight people reading. I know talking about gay sex may seem disgusting, but likewise I don't want to know what heteros do behind closed doors. To me its equally as gross imagining the straight version of the slap and tickle. I have always looked at it this way.
Straight people Pro-create
Gay Men Recreate
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
I am a Whosoever
My mom was finished getting ready (for their Southern Baptist Sunday morning service) and putting on her coat. My dad was honking the horn waiting in the car (as usual) when the phone rang. It had been 6 months since "Jamie" mysteriously disappeared (taking only a pair of jeans and phone). Maybe the private investigator was calling with a lead.
"Hello? " Polly my adopted mom (since 3 months old) asked.
"Hi is this Mrs. Montoya?", my Prozac taking jealous first boyfriend inquired (from Madison Wisconsin). He was 4 years older than me, and at 23, crazy as hell!
"Yes, yes this is...who is this?" Polly demanded, fearing it was the call parents dread about a missing child.
"Hi Mrs Montoya, my name is Tim Fitch, and I want you to know your son is gay.....I f*ck*d him last night!!!"
Which was a total lie, I was still a virgin. Except for the gang rape outside of east St Louis (at an after hours club called Faces) by 5 straight blackguys who thought I was pretty. I was tricked outside (by myself) not telling my friend (I was traveling with across country) where I was going.
I don't consider that as losing my virginity though. I didn't experience pain from the assault at all. God was with me. He took me somewhere with Him in my mind. There was a blue light, and singing while I was bloodied and bruised on a gravel parking lot. I am sure it was angels protecting my life by distracting me with their singing and the light so white it was blue.
But that's another story for a different day. This is about how mom and dad found out I was gay. I was ripped out of the closet and took it as my way out. Once my parents knew I didn't care who else did.
Tim (my first bf) was mad at me and thats the reason he called my parents. He was spiteful, and wanted to out me. My crime was going across the street to the New Bar/Rods gay bar complex underage.
I wanted to see the show. Never saw a drag queen before, and I had been studying vocal performance /music at 2 Universities. I was curious.
Tim was insanely jealous of anyone even talking to me. Since I was fresh meat, he thought I was out cruising behind his back because he did that to me. But I was not looking to hook up. He was my boyfriend. I am loyal in a relationship with my heart. But Tim helped me experience the right of passage most gay twink's learn the hard way. Be careful who you trust.
Recently my business associate asked me, "Jay, how do you reconcile yourself to God since u work at a church?" This was before my lay off.
"Reconcile? Reconcile? I didnt know I had too. I asked Christ in my heart at age 5 with a clear understanding of who He is. This was long long before I knew how my body responded to touch. My bible says, WHOSOEVER believeth in Him shall not perish and have everlasting life. (John 3:16). It doesn't say, Whosover believeth but gay people. Besides, my life is littered with miracle after miracle. Thats how people know it's God who loves me. And if he could love someone like me, then for sure he can love anyone." I replied....
This is my story...
"Hello? " Polly my adopted mom (since 3 months old) asked.
"Hi is this Mrs. Montoya?", my Prozac taking jealous first boyfriend inquired (from Madison Wisconsin). He was 4 years older than me, and at 23, crazy as hell!
"Yes, yes this is...who is this?" Polly demanded, fearing it was the call parents dread about a missing child.
"Hi Mrs Montoya, my name is Tim Fitch, and I want you to know your son is gay.....I f*ck*d him last night!!!"
Which was a total lie, I was still a virgin. Except for the gang rape outside of east St Louis (at an after hours club called Faces) by 5 straight blackguys who thought I was pretty. I was tricked outside (by myself) not telling my friend (I was traveling with across country) where I was going.
I don't consider that as losing my virginity though. I didn't experience pain from the assault at all. God was with me. He took me somewhere with Him in my mind. There was a blue light, and singing while I was bloodied and bruised on a gravel parking lot. I am sure it was angels protecting my life by distracting me with their singing and the light so white it was blue.
But that's another story for a different day. This is about how mom and dad found out I was gay. I was ripped out of the closet and took it as my way out. Once my parents knew I didn't care who else did.
Tim (my first bf) was mad at me and thats the reason he called my parents. He was spiteful, and wanted to out me. My crime was going across the street to the New Bar/Rods gay bar complex underage.
I wanted to see the show. Never saw a drag queen before, and I had been studying vocal performance /music at 2 Universities. I was curious.
Tim was insanely jealous of anyone even talking to me. Since I was fresh meat, he thought I was out cruising behind his back because he did that to me. But I was not looking to hook up. He was my boyfriend. I am loyal in a relationship with my heart. But Tim helped me experience the right of passage most gay twink's learn the hard way. Be careful who you trust.
Recently my business associate asked me, "Jay, how do you reconcile yourself to God since u work at a church?" This was before my lay off.
"Reconcile? Reconcile? I didnt know I had too. I asked Christ in my heart at age 5 with a clear understanding of who He is. This was long long before I knew how my body responded to touch. My bible says, WHOSOEVER believeth in Him shall not perish and have everlasting life. (John 3:16). It doesn't say, Whosover believeth but gay people. Besides, my life is littered with miracle after miracle. Thats how people know it's God who loves me. And if he could love someone like me, then for sure he can love anyone." I replied....
This is my story...
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