Ace Bannon

So here I am on my flight from Austin to Palm Springs and I’m thinking it’s been a while since I added anything to the ol’ blog and what better subject that the insider’s view of Will Clark’s 5th Annual Bad Boys Pool Party?

My first time to the BBPP; my first time in Palm Springs! Am I excited? Am I thinking of all the amazing men who’ll be there? Am I once again happy as a pig in shit to be working with the one and only Caesar? Yep. Absolutely. You betcha.

I’m also nervous. I’m also anxious. I’m also prepping to slip into “Ace Bannon Mode”™.

If you were around back in ’97 or ’98 when all this started you probably remember that yours truly was just another timid muscle lover, casting about on the net (most notably on AOL in ’96-’97 as musclesvc) for information about where to see, be with, and become the COLT man of my dreams. As someone wise once said, the more things change the more they stay the same…

Yes, I’m older and wiser now, which means that I’m no longer as likely to berate myself for not becoming Jake Tanner or Chris Duffy (besides, now I know so much more about what goes into building those bodies, both genetically and otherwise). Sure, I probably have greater access to muscle guys than the average man on the street does, but now it’s not so much an issue of access as it is compatibility and where that compatibility might lead. The guys I personally want to jump onto for a wild ride are likely to be my friends and business partners: Roger, PJ, Caesar – you get the picture. I don’t play where I work; that’s just a recipe for disaster. And I’ll let you in on a little secret, I for some reason tend to meet new guys when they’re at the height of their insecurity cycle and are therefore really unattractive (even if they’ve got unbelievable bodies).

And I still have a lot of the old insecurities myself. I guess they never really go away, you just learn to respond differently when they come up. So now I put on the good old red cap and it’s instant Ace Bannon Modeâ„¢. A couple of drinks later, and I’m verging on Super Ace Bannon Modeâ„¢ — those of you who’ve had the dubious honor of seeing me flash my nipples have witnessed SABMâ„¢ first hand. My deepest apologies. Really.

This trip to Palm Springs has necessitated the addition of some new accoutrement, however. The red cap wasn’t feeling like enough for a weekend like this one, so I went out and got a new camera yesterday. Did I need a new camera? Not exactly—my trusty Olympus C3040 still takes great photos (and, in fact I had to bring it on the trip as well since my fancy new camera doesn’t take mpgs). But, you see, though it takes great pictures, it doesn’t look like the kind of camera Ace Bannon should be using. Ace Bannon’s mom, maybe. So now I’ve got a camera that is the “prosumer” model, or my little digital on steroids. (There is a practical reason for getting the new camera, too: I’m looking at doing some larger-format prints and need the level of resolution and pixels this model provides. But, really, I just didn’t want to feel embarrassed by my little camera. Sad, but true.)

There are plenty of other things to be intimidated by this weekend: the men (both the “names” and not). I mean, fuck! Zak Spears will be there. One of the nicest guys I’ve ever met, he treats me like an old friend and seems genuinely disappointed if I’m in the neighborhood and don’t say hi. But FUCK! I mean, he’s ZAKFUCKINGSPEARS, you know–the essence of masculinity in so many ways for me. Would I love to spend a few hours alone with him? Do you have to ask?! But because he’s one of the ones I feel that way about, I would of course love to work with him as well. Would that make the butterflies go away? Doubtful.

But aren’t the butterflies what it’s all about, in the end? So I still feel like (and act like, I’m sure) a tongue-tied lurker when I’m around Zak, and (dammit!) that can feel pretty good. I can say hello, shake his hand, listen to the sound of his voice, see that face, and go to sleep happy. I can almost pretend I’m still musclesvc@aol.com, who somehow got lucky enough to be attending the big bash.

Take off the red cap and the camera, and that’s who you’ll find.