Archives for posts with tag: Colorado


So, yesterday, I’m on HLN‘s Jane Velez Mitchell show courtesy of CNN ostensibly to put the boot into a 67-year-old Colorado Sheriff called Pat Sullivan who paid young boys for sex with meth.

I started the show by acknowledging Pat’s sex addiction but then, halfway through, listening to the comments of the other ‘outraged’ guests I suddenly felt an overwhelming pity for Pat Sullivan.

Before being caught in an undercover sting he had been described as a hero…as a crusader against drug use.

During his 18 years as elected Arapahoe County Sheriff he had inspired the local population to trust him with their safety.

They re-elected him time after time.

The local jail was named after him.

What became of this man and his reputation? Arrested by young deputies, in the most desperate of situations.

67 years old, a walking stick, taking meth, living a double life, having sex with degenerate addicts and homeless people. Described as a ‘dirty old man’.

The closet can be a terrible place. A terrible dark place.

As Jake found out. The people you meet, the lies you tell. A double life can take a toll on you and those around you.

Unlike Jake, who stayed in the closet because he was a coward, Pat…50 years ago in rural Colorado had no choice.

He didn’t want to move to the big city and follow his sexual condition, he didn’t want to go be a criminal in another city (homosexuality was outlawed 50 years ago) so, he married, had kids and became the town hero.

Having a career as a hero in rural Colorado for a gay man in the 1960’s was not an option.

Pat looked after the people of Arapahoe but didn’t look after himself.

Now, revealed for all to see. As sick as his secrets.

I’m sorry Pat didn’t, couldn’t get help.

Perhaps he will now.

Alexi Muniak at Cafe Gitane

Another day with Benoit and his boyfriend in NYC.  Benoit read the Abercrombie and Fitch essay from his book American Voyeur at the Powerhouse Arena in Dumbo.  It was very funny.  The guy who owns Abercrombie sounds like a total nutter.  After the event we all ate dinner at the Lesbian owned restaurant Superfine near where I shot Dorian Gray.  I ate a pork chop and lentil soup.  It was delicious.

I thought I was leaving NYC today but I made a mistake so I’m actually leaving tomorrow.

It was hard not to spend the day remembering Donny-my dead friend.   My friend who killed himself.  I spoke to other men who knew him and it was difficult not to say, “I told you so.” Because I’d known all along that Donny would succeed one day.  Like Heath, DJ AM, Brad Renfrew and my other Hollywood chums who seemed hell bent on an early grave.

People who want to kill themselves become very determined once they set their mind on it.

Issie must have tried 5 times before she drank the weed killer.

I’ve always been a little bit scared of people who express an interest in suicide.  If they have so little regard for their own lives they might very well have little regard for yours, after all, they’re going to kill someone whether it’s themselves or you.

When I was in hospital during my mid twenties-after seeing all my friends die of AIDS-I had a mental breakdown and ended up in The Henderson Hospital in Sutton Surrey.  There was a sweet girl there called Sarah who wanted to kill herself and she was, like Donny, determined to do it.  Anyway, we were having a group meeting and I was sent up to her room by one of the nurses to get her and when I found her with slashed wrists, blood pumping everywhere.  She said, “I’ll be down in a minute, I’m just cleaning my room.”  She was dabbing at the great pools of blood with some tissue paper.

Had lunch with Alexi and his wife.  Bumped into Christian Coulson in Soho who was an actor and is now a photographer.  Had hair cut-not very well-at Freeman’s.   Alexi and I drank more coffee in Cafe Gitane in Nolita then, after a nap, met Benoit and crew in Dumbo at 7.  It was a full day overshadowed by the events of the preceding day.