Dating has never been an easy thing for me, and I mean never.

When I was in school, I was probably the most shy person ever, at least I thought I was. I could never ask another person out. When I graduated from grade 8, I remember going to receive my diploma but instead of joining all the other graduates at the dance, I snuck out when no one was watching and went home. Most of my classmates had dates for the dance but there were others going stag. I just knew, I would be the last person anyone would ask to dance. Maybe it was just me, I was afraid, what if someone did, what do I do? My biggest memory of that day was wearing my older brother's red blazer - yeah, red. It was too big for me but I was so proud to wear it.

When I came out, I was 37 years old. I was in a whole new world, where being new had its advantages. I quickly learned how easy it was to have casual fun - no relationships, just fun. I wrote before about someone wanting a relationship with me at first but I felt I had missed so much and just wanted to "look around". I'm not going to lie, I think I looked around too much for too long and found a lot of "just fun". Being new only meant "new meat" and that never lasts long.

After a few years of this, I wanted to find that one person. I joined dating sites, I chatted with people, met a few of them, got stood up by a lot of them. It always seemed like a perfect match until they met me. I wasn't that person online. I was quiet, so some people have told me. I admit, I am different online, I feel the internet has helped me open up, I could get to know people before meeting them. At least I never lied to anyone. I realized I would have to live up to anything I told them about me. I admitted that I may be a bit quieter in person, some weren't prepared for just how quiet I was. If you could get me talking, I would talk, honest.

Some sites I went on, I didn't post a picture; friends would tell me not to. Months would go by and no one would even message or email me. When someone did message me, I would have to respond back right away. I had to keep the person talking so I could find out as much as I could before the conversation came to, "so, what are you into?" This is the time when you know it’s not going to be a relationship connection. It was going to be nothing more than a hook-up or the guy was going to talk about sex and masturbate on the other end. I had to get to the point of insisting we not talk about that online, only if and when we met, and with that stance, I didn't meet up with many of them.

Some connections I did make would go on for a while, if the other person didn't have a picture up on his profile either. This became an issue - who sends their picture first and what if I didn't like what you see, or what if I'm not attracted to him. That was my biggest fear; if they saw me I would never hear from them again. I remember sending my picture and having to wait for the other guy to send his and it never came. I would email, and email and get nothing. Days later I would see him online and ask what happened and I'd get some excuse - he really wasn't single, he went back with his ex, blah blah blah! On occasion I would get someone to agree to meet but it always came down to, they didn't know what they really wanted and "we can still be friends".

For the last 7 plus years I've had to add HIV to my list of things people need to know about me. Most of the times it’s like nothing is too different, but now I am looking for someone in a similar situation. Sending a picture is still the big sell though. I find that more people find me more open, maybe more interesting and they want to meet, but when I send that picture, or they meet me in person, it all ends up being just "friends". I leave it that way with them but quickly put them in the category of "acquaintance" because I'll probably not keep in touch, or they won't. and it’s all for the best. I've said before that sometimes I think too much but I really believe this one, I think that the advocacy I'm doing and being out there isn't what many can deal with.

I'm not giving up, just waking up. There is someone out there for everyone. I like to say, "the person meant for me is probably in a bad relationship with the wrong person right now". So, if you're out there, I'm right here!

The Canadian Opera Company has opened its sixth season in its new Toronto home, the Four Seasons Centre, with the eighteenth century opera Iphigénie en Tauride. It’s a story of hope, compassion and love set to magnificent music by German composer Christoph Williband Gluck.

Set at the end of the Trojan Wars, the opera is based on the play by the ancient Greek tragedian Euripides. It tells the story of a princess, Iphigénie, who, having been exiled from her Greek homeland, is forced to choose which of two shipwrecked mariners she will sacrifice to appease the gods. It turns out that these two sailors are her brother Oreste and his friend Pylade.

The opera is traditionally presented, as it was in this COC production, as a story of family betrayal and redemption. But much of the core of the opera is the story of the tender love between Oreste and Pylade, who is willing to give up his life for his friend. Marshall Pynkoski, co-artistic director of Toronto’s Opera Atelier, who mounted a production of this opera in 2009, has argued that the relationship between Oreste and Pylade can only properly be understood if they are seen as same-sex lovers.

Unfortunately, Canadian director Robert Carsen does not share this vision in the COC production and presents their relationship as, at best, a bromance. Despite the words of love expressed between the two men in the libretto, and the strong emotions reflected in Gluck’s music, the two men appear as uncomfortable expressing their love for one another on stage as would your average heterosexual male. Oreste and Pylade barely touch one another while Oreste seems to have no such inhibitions when he expresses his love for his sister Iphigénie. Frankly, instead of being a core part of the opera, the non-sexual nature of the men’s relationship as presented in this production was simply an annoying distraction.

The other distraction was the dark set (a black box with virtually no props), relieved only occasionally by flashes of light, and the equally dark, modern day costumes of the performers. The intent, apparently, was to lose the connection to classical antiquity and to highlight the universal nature of the story and the emotions involved. To me, however, the dark set and dark costumes quickly became lugubrious and claustrophobic.

Musically, however, the production was superb. American mezzo-soprano Susan Graham, making her COC debut, was magnificent as Iphigénie, in what has become her signature role. Canadian baritone Russell Braun and Canadian tenor Joseph Kaiser gave thrilling performances as Oreste and Pylade. The COC orchestra, conducted by the young Spaniard Pablo Heras-Casado, and the COC chorus under the direction of Sandra Horst, were, as usual, first rate.

Is this COC production worth seeing? Certainly, for the outstanding musicianship of the singers and orchestra. But if you want a production where the centrality of the love between Oreste and Pylade is honestly presented, you are probably going to have to petition Marshall Pynkoski to revive his Opera Atelier version.

Remaining performances of the Canadian Opera Company’s Iphigénie en Tauride at the Four Seasons Centre in Toronto are on September 28, October 4, 7, 12 and 15 at 7:30 pm and October 1 at 4:30 pm.

 Book tickets online  anytime, by phone 416 363 8231 (long distance in Canada and the U.S. 1 800 250 4653) Monday to Friday from 10:00 am to 5:00 pm or directly from the Four Seasons Centre box office, 145 Queen Street West, Toronto, Monday to Saturday from 11:00 am to 5:00 pm

So this is probably going to get my gay card suspended – again! (I just got it back, I had failed to meet the minimum shoe requirement by only owning two pairs of sneakers and a pair of flip flops). But what the hell, rules are made to be broken, right?

One thing that a lot of people don't know about me is I am cheap. And by cheap I don't mean easy, I mean I refuse to pay retail prices for anything and I hate to shop for anything aside from books and cleaning supplies. The only time I buy clothes or shoes is when the ones I’m currently wearing fall apart beyond my ability to sew them back together. There are two exceptions though, socks and underwear; for some reason I buy socks and underwear compluslively . (That's got to be a whole blog post on its own, for another time.)

So great is my cheapness that about four years ago I swore off paying for a haircut and thus began cutting my hair myself. There is really nothing to it, just grab some clippers slip on a #2 guard and buzz away!!

So the other day in the mail I received a coupon for a FREE haircut at this new novelty salon (if you can even call it that) exclusively for men. It's called Sport Clips.

Now Sport Clips is designed to make guys feel manly about getting their hair done. There are wide screen HD TV's all over blaring ESPN, the entire motif of the place is designed to look like a locker room, and best of all, the “stylists” are skinny huge-breasted blondes in skin tight referees’ outfits that show more cleavage than Pamela Anderson ever thought of showing. So basically it's Hooters for your hair!

And as if the décor and costumes aren't bad enough, these blow dryer wielding barbies are trained to be the typical straight man's dream of subservient submission. It is truly a unique experience.

So I sit down in Candy's chair (yes her name was Candy, you would think she was a stripper not a hair stylist) and right away I get her hands rubbing my shoulders, her massive boobs pressed into my back and her breathy Marilyn Monroe voice in my ear saying “So what do you want to do today - with your hair I mean.” (giggle)

UM REALLY? I thought I was gonna piss myself laughing. But I contained my mirth and decided to roll with it. “Well Candy” I say, “what do you think would look good?”

“Well” says Candy, “you look like a rock star bad boy with all those hot tattoos and piercings. I think a faux-hawk would look really sexy!”

BAAAAAAWWAAAAAHHHHAAAAAAAA!!!

“Sounds good Candy' I say, “Your the professional!”

She then proceeds to inform me that since I am a first time customer and I have my free coupon that I automatically get a free upgrade to the MVP package that includes a professional massaging shampoo, a steamed towel over my face and deep tissue shoulder massage. “Let’ do it!” I say, I just couldn't help myself.

So about three-quarters of the way through the whole rigmarole I just couldn't take the ridiculousness any longer. So I say to her, “ Candy, you really can cut the whole “how may I serve you master” schtick. I'm as gay as they come and as long you promise to remove your boobs from my back and face, you’re gonna get a good tip!!” “Oh thank God!!” Candy says. She then resumes cutting my hair in a normal stylist’s fashion. I walked out with a great haircut and a funny story to share . And Candy, along with her reprieve from the usual circus act, got a $20 tip and there was much rejoicing.

Thank you for reading. XXOO Danny

Sitting on my couch, incapacitated by a summer cold and watching more Jane Austen than any gay can handle, I received a couple text messages from Asher.  

            "How are you?" 

            "We should hang out again. Possibly a date?"

At first I didn't answer them. I don't know why. Really, the only thing that I gave me pause about Asher, outside of his name, was that he comes from money. Lots of money! This is no reason not to date someone. In fact, this is the reason that many people actually start dating, for the money! But, no Anna Nicole am I.

To be clear, Asher never acted any differently because of his financial background. He never tried to impress me with tales of his assets. He only tried to impress me with his tail. But for some reason, being with someone of more means makes me quite uncomfortable.

I don't know if it was because I was hopped up on cold medicine or was jonesing for a date after my hiatus that I decided to stop worrying so much about the money and agreed to a second date. Well, we shouldn't really call it a second date. We didn't have much of a first date. Unless you call an encounter from a gentlemen's socializing network a first date. I know that some of you do, and so will I!

So, after the spigot that was my nose finally got back to normal, we made plans to meet up. He invited me over to his apartment again. I questioned if this was going to be a really real date or just another hook up? Either way is fine, I am easy like that.

On the day before our date he texted me: "I cannot wait to see you again." Well, maybe this was a really real date, maybe he really does like me-like me like that… And maybe I need to get out of the 4^th grade.

The first time we met, Asher answered the door wearing his underwear. He certainly looked fantastic, but true love was obviously not on his mind. This time he opened the door wearing a very sleek black button down shirt, grey slacks and extremely shiny dress shoes. He looked sharp! Clearly I was right in thinking that this time wasn’t just a hook-up. With my mindset in check I was ready to continue.

We made chit-chat as he made me a drink. We sat on his couch, he pulled me close and started to kiss me. I was a little shocked. I wasn't expecting this off the bat. But what the hell, I went with it.

I guess I was wrong about it being a real date. I was wrong - twice.

In the aftermath we started to talk. We seemed to have missed this crucial part of dating during our first tryst. I do understand that this act typically happens before any carnage, but I have always been an over achiever. I don't know if it was the age or the monetary difference, but as we started to talk I realized that we had absolutely nothing in common. Though, we did both have mind blowing orgasms… Does that count?

So I ask the question: Is sex enough? Is amazing sex paired with large amounts of money enough? Wow - that makes me sound like a rent boy, but you know what I mean!

This situation got me thinking of Josh  and the fact that not having good sex was my deal breaker. Josh and I had so much in common, but we were not compatible horizontally. Now, Asher and I don't have anything in common but the sex is way off the charts. How does this happen?

Am I too picky? Am I too fickle? Why do I sound like Goldilocks?!? You know what, I don't care. I think we all have to try a good number of beds (two, three, or eighty – hey, I don’t judge!) until we find the owner that is just right!

Asher might not be the exact right fit for me and that’s ok. But until I find it, Asher just might be the perfect fit for being the perfect FB. 

I’m a senior citizen and a gay man living with HIV. I’m not the only gay HIVer of my generation, of course, but I’m perhaps different from most in that I was diagnosed with HIV at an older age, rather than when I was in my 20s, 30s or 40s. Growing old gracefully while livinng with HIV is the issue that frames my life.

Being diagnosed with HIV in later life was not as scary as it would have been if I’d received the news ten or more years earlier, as many of my friends had. That’s because I knew that it was no longer a death sentence but rather a chronic illness that could be managed effectively with medication. But it was a wake-up call. Clearly my life had changed irrevocably, so I was going to have to evaluate what I’d been doing and plan for a different future.

I’m fortunate in having a physician who’s experienced in treating patients with HIV. For years, I’d been going to him for HIV tests every six months until one day I visited his office complaining of a sore throat that wouldn’t go away, along with a nasty rash that had developed all over my body, he immediately suspected a seroconversion illness, which it proved to be. He provided me with much reassurance along with helpful information about the effects of the virus on my body and on my overall health, lifestyle changes that would be necessary and my options around treatment.

I knew the exact date - just three weeks prior to the beginning of my seroconversion illness - that I’d been infected because I’d had sex only once in the previous two months. Because I’d been infected so recently, my doctor and I decided that I’d go on antiretroviral medication right away. Apparently, there’s a growing body of research that shows that if treatment is started shortly after seroconversion it’s likely that less permanent damage would be done to the immune system. So far, my meds are proving effective: I’ve experienced no side effects, my CD4 count is within the normal range and my viral load is undetectable.

Because I believe that knowledge is power, I read as much about HIV as I could find, both in print and online, particularly around treatment issues and other aspects of managing my health. More recently, I discovered PositiveLite and have been inspired by the personal stories of the women and men featured here. When I wrote about this to the guys who run the site - Brian Finch and Bob Leahy - they suggested that I make my own regular contribution to it. And so here I am!

In my posts I plan to blog about what it’s like learning to live with HIV later in life, about adjusting to no longer working and living on a pension income, about my support network, my life in Toronto, my passions and peeves and my successes and failures. I know my HIV story is not unique - there’s an increasing number of men who are seroconverting in middle age or later - but it’s not something we hear a lot about. So an important motivation for me to write about my experiences is the hope that what I have to share may help others who’ve been diagnosed later in life and to let them know that they’re not alone. Wish me luck!