ledbythreads: secifosseluce:Whenever I hear discussions about high-profile men jokingly (or not?)

ledbythreads: secifosseluce: Whenever I hear discussions about high-profile men jokingly (or not?) expressing sexual attraction to other men, I’m always curious that no one mentions Bruce Springsteen. To most people, obviously, Bruce is the pure embodiment of unfettered American masculinity. And yet for the 40 years he played beside Clarence Clemons, until Clemons’ death in 2011, the two men had this clearly intense, complicated relationship that was enacted and re-enacted every night onstage – culminating in a long, deep kiss on the mouth – without irony or camp, just pure, exuberant love between two men, without a need to be defined as straight or gay. See it here, in a series of quite touching and beautiful photos. There’s also a fleeting shot of it live, in the official “Born to Run” video, at about 0:18. (Though note that commenters continue to feel the need to provide the “NOT gay” disclaimer.) Of course, both men married women (multiple times each) and have large families. Who knows and who really cares what their sexuality is? I think it’s sort of beside the point. More interesting to me is the sheer intensity of their love and their fearlessness in expressing it without the need to declare, “Of course we’re both straight!” To the contrary, when Clemons described the kiss in 2009, he didn’t bother to mention sexual orientation: It’s the most passion that you have without sex. Two androgynous beings becoming one. It’s love. It’s two men – two strong, very virile men – finding that space in life where they can let go enough of their masculinity to feel the passion of love and respect and trust. Friendships are based on those things, and you seal it with a kiss. from this article.  pst… Oi! Jimmy. Excerpt from Bruce Springsteen’s Eulogy for Clarence Clemons…here comes my brother, here comes my sax man, my inspiration, my partner, my lifelong friend. Standing next to Clarence was like standing next to the baddest ass on the planet. You were proud, you were strong, you were excited and laughing with what might happen, with what together, you might be able to do. You felt like no matter what the day or the night brought, nothing was going to touch you. Clarence could be fragile but he also emanated power and safety, and in some funny way we became each other’s protectors; I think perhaps I protected “C” from a world where it still wasn’t so easy to be big and black. Racism was ever present and over the years together, we saw it. Clarence’s celebrity and size did not make him immune. I think perhaps “C” protected me from a world where it wasn’t always so easy to be an insecure, weird and skinny white boy either. But, standing together we were badass, on any given night, on our turf, some of the baddest asses on the planet. We were united, we were strong, we were righteous, we were unmovable, we were funny, we were corny as hell and as serious as death itself. And we were coming to your town to shake you and to wake you up. Together, we told an older, richer story about the possibilities of friendship that transcended those I’d written in my songs and in my music. Clarence carried it in his heart. It was a story where the Scooter and the Big Man not only busted the city in half, but we kicked ass and remade the city, shaping it into the kind of place where our friendship would not be such an anomaly. And that… that’s what I’m gonna miss. The chance to renew that vow and double down on that story on a nightly basis, because that is something, that is the thing that we did together… the two of us. Clarence was big, and he made me feel, and think, and love, and dream big. How big was the Big Man? Too fucking big to die. And that’s just the facts. You can put it on his grave stone, you can tattoo it over your heart. Accept it… it’s the New World. Clarence doesn’t leave the E Street Band when he dies. He leaves when we die. So, I’ll miss my friend, his sax, the force of nature his sound was, his glory, his foolishness, his accomplishments, his face, his hands, his humor, his skin, his noise, his confusion, his power, his peace. But his love and his story, the story that he gave me, that he whispered in my ear, that he allowed me to tell… and that he gave to you… is gonna carry on. I’m no mystic, but the undertow, the mystery and power of Clarence and my friendship leads me to believe we must have stood together in other, older times, along other rivers, in other cities, in other fields, doing our modest version of god’s work… work that’s still unfinished. So I won’t say goodbye to my brother, I’ll simply say, see you in the next life, further on up the road, where we will once again pick up that work, and get it done. Big Man, thank you for your kindness, your strength, your dedication, your work, your story. Thanks for the miracle… and for letting a little white boy slip through the side door of the Temple of Soul…❤️ -- source link

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