When I was diagnosed with cirrhosis in 2022, I got so sick that my doctor told me I had been within a week-and-a-half from dying. I remember thinking, “huh – so, that’s how it ends.” Like, I had no emotion at all. And I mean that literally: I honestly felt no emotion. And I don’t mean I disassociated from myself, I mean that I’ve been so sad for so long, I didn’t feel emotions anymore.
And then all of the sudden, my liver started back up for some reason, and I began to get better. I remember I was sitting on the couch on October 1st, and I was I was just sort of looking around at my living room; the house was hospital-clean (as I like it), and everything was no less than absolutely perfect. And I just remember thinking, fuck it! I wasn't going to sit on the damn couch again watching Law & Order reruns. So, I got off my ass, took a shower, cut my hair, shaved, made my beard look like a Bond villain, and put on my gear.
I ended up going out to Touché for like, the first time in years, and the whole place changed. I mean, the dress code was gone, people were wearing shorts and sandals and floral shirts - I actually ended up writing a blog about that night. There were only a handful of Old Guard Masters left, and they all went home at like, midnight. And the whole time I’m thinking: where’d everybody go?
I continued going out every Saturday from that point, and over the next six months, began to reconnect with my friends in the scene. As I'm 54 myself, most of my buddies are in their 50s-60s. We're old enough to be considered "Old Guard," but as the OG era got its start in the 70s/80s, I'm actually more of a "New Guard" Dom - as despite my age, I have a strong online presence. As of last weekend, I haven't seen an OG Daddy for at least six months. There are still a few OG subs floating around, but like the 2am rush, the older submissives seem to be looking for sex, rather than to enjoy the spectacle of the Clubroom.
So, last weekend I was out with Brad - a friend, a man who's weeks from hitting 60 - and we met at Touche at 10pm. We did the rounds together, said hi to all the people we knew, then spent a little time in the Clubroom - which at that time of night, was slow. We decided to kill some time until the bar got busy, so we went next door to "Jackhammer" - Chicago's newest Leather Bar. Despite my love of Touche's 45-year history, I have to admit, Jackhammer was incredible. As Touche feels like a neighborhood pub, Jackhammer is a state-of-the-art Leather Club with multiple floors, incredible decor, modern design, a kick-ass sound system, and "The Hole" (rather than the Clubroom) - a vast labyrinth of basement chambers that blows Touche away. Brad & I spent a good hour in the Hole, and with the exception of one other person, we were the oldest Leathermen there.
It was during this time that my age really hit me. I don't feel 54 mentally, but I definitely look my 54 years. I still have stamina - I have no problem closing a bar at 5am - but as I watch the younger Leathermen interact with each other, I can't help but feel nostalgic for my life in the early 90s. Sure, we had plenty of Leather Bars back then, and for their day they were as cool as Jackhammer. But I have to admit that as the oldest man in the club, I grew acutely aware of the passage of time - and the fact that most of my friends are either dead or slowly dying at home, watching Law & Order after Law & Order after Law & Order...
I will admit though that I don't give a shit anymore. Almost dying made me appreciate the days that I do have, and I'm still going out tonight - and I'm hitting both Touche & Jackhammer. Back when the Old Guard was around, guys my age (and older) were treated with reverence because of our histories and contributions to the Community. I have no problem with my pear-shaped stomach as I walk through the the masses of cute young guys with perfect bodies and expensive chest harnesses - dudes who haven't a clue of the sacrifices that were made to allow them to enjoy their Leather life today. I don't feel like an old Leather Daddy, but the mirror doesn't lie - and it takes me a lot of time in that mirror to clean up enough to go out for the night. Chuckling...I think I use more hairspray on my beard now than I ever used on my head when I was in my twenties. At least when I polish the chrome on my Muir, I don't also have to buff the silver finish on my walker. Or, at least not yet anyways...
Fuck these clueless young guys.
Even at 54, I can still hold my own against them, especially in my dungeon...
- Sir Dave
And then all of the sudden, my liver started back up for some reason, and I began to get better. I remember I was sitting on the couch on October 1st, and I was I was just sort of looking around at my living room; the house was hospital-clean (as I like it), and everything was no less than absolutely perfect. And I just remember thinking, fuck it! I wasn't going to sit on the damn couch again watching Law & Order reruns. So, I got off my ass, took a shower, cut my hair, shaved, made my beard look like a Bond villain, and put on my gear.
I ended up going out to Touché for like, the first time in years, and the whole place changed. I mean, the dress code was gone, people were wearing shorts and sandals and floral shirts - I actually ended up writing a blog about that night. There were only a handful of Old Guard Masters left, and they all went home at like, midnight. And the whole time I’m thinking: where’d everybody go?
I continued going out every Saturday from that point, and over the next six months, began to reconnect with my friends in the scene. As I'm 54 myself, most of my buddies are in their 50s-60s. We're old enough to be considered "Old Guard," but as the OG era got its start in the 70s/80s, I'm actually more of a "New Guard" Dom - as despite my age, I have a strong online presence. As of last weekend, I haven't seen an OG Daddy for at least six months. There are still a few OG subs floating around, but like the 2am rush, the older submissives seem to be looking for sex, rather than to enjoy the spectacle of the Clubroom.
So, last weekend I was out with Brad - a friend, a man who's weeks from hitting 60 - and we met at Touche at 10pm. We did the rounds together, said hi to all the people we knew, then spent a little time in the Clubroom - which at that time of night, was slow. We decided to kill some time until the bar got busy, so we went next door to "Jackhammer" - Chicago's newest Leather Bar. Despite my love of Touche's 45-year history, I have to admit, Jackhammer was incredible. As Touche feels like a neighborhood pub, Jackhammer is a state-of-the-art Leather Club with multiple floors, incredible decor, modern design, a kick-ass sound system, and "The Hole" (rather than the Clubroom) - a vast labyrinth of basement chambers that blows Touche away. Brad & I spent a good hour in the Hole, and with the exception of one other person, we were the oldest Leathermen there.
It was during this time that my age really hit me. I don't feel 54 mentally, but I definitely look my 54 years. I still have stamina - I have no problem closing a bar at 5am - but as I watch the younger Leathermen interact with each other, I can't help but feel nostalgic for my life in the early 90s. Sure, we had plenty of Leather Bars back then, and for their day they were as cool as Jackhammer. But I have to admit that as the oldest man in the club, I grew acutely aware of the passage of time - and the fact that most of my friends are either dead or slowly dying at home, watching Law & Order after Law & Order after Law & Order...
I will admit though that I don't give a shit anymore. Almost dying made me appreciate the days that I do have, and I'm still going out tonight - and I'm hitting both Touche & Jackhammer. Back when the Old Guard was around, guys my age (and older) were treated with reverence because of our histories and contributions to the Community. I have no problem with my pear-shaped stomach as I walk through the the masses of cute young guys with perfect bodies and expensive chest harnesses - dudes who haven't a clue of the sacrifices that were made to allow them to enjoy their Leather life today. I don't feel like an old Leather Daddy, but the mirror doesn't lie - and it takes me a lot of time in that mirror to clean up enough to go out for the night. Chuckling...I think I use more hairspray on my beard now than I ever used on my head when I was in my twenties. At least when I polish the chrome on my Muir, I don't also have to buff the silver finish on my walker. Or, at least not yet anyways...
Fuck these clueless young guys.
Even at 54, I can still hold my own against them, especially in my dungeon...
- Sir Dave