Innerview With A Bear

 Innerview With A Bear. (Questions by Liam Troy, answers by Eric Crow)

    Disclaimer: I speak for no one else's perspective but my own. Other people will have difference views of the same subject, and I always want to hear from them.

    Not too long ago, I was chatting with Liam Troy, one of the more active members of Cubs Club of California. He competed for Mr. Bear LA last September, and I was taken by him and impressed with his energy and presence. We were talking about Bear community history, and he expressed frustration at not having much information about our history. Later that week, I posed a question on the Cubs Club FB group page, asking people how much Bear community history they knew, and the majority of people who answered chose the “just a few things” option. This concerned and frustrated me. It concerned me because our community has a rich, dynamic history, and our methods and reasons for doing things serve very specific purpose, and those things are not being passed on. It frustrated me because to me, today's Bear generation is not being taught this history. So I asked Liam to send me some questions for an interview-style article. I was curious as to just what he would ask me. Here is Part One of the interview, and it would be great if this could turn into a regular feature. 

    LIAM: Why was the Bear community founded? 

    ERIC: Many factors come into play. Gay men who didn't fit the twink/circuit/clone image felt left out of the community that formed in the 70s and 80s. Straight male porn producers would not cast gay men unless they were skinny, hairless and effeminate; there was no room for someone like Jack Radcliffe or Buster. They wanted to find a way to be accepted and admired for being masculine and to connect with like-minded individuals. Looksism also played a big role; this was years and years before the plus-size/body-positive ethos that permeates gay culture today, and nobody in the community wanted to share space with heavy-set or hirsute men or even be around them, sometimes even feigning resentment or even disgust.

    Accordingly, there are two established archetypal bear images—the prototype lumberjack and/or construction worker image with hardhats and flannel, who was closer to the Colt model type, and then in the late 80s, the softer, round-faced, full-bearded Bear surfaced and became the mainstay, pleasantly plump, friendly, affectionate and nurturing, yet gruff and perpetually horny. It wasn't about how well-coiffed or well-dressed you were, and for many years, the way a Bear looked was a rebellion against all the hair-care, beauty products and dressing stylishly. Being a Bear was about masculinity without the trappings. What mattered was your character, your heart and your “natural” body. That said, there is a third archetypal image emerging today, a glambear archetype if you will, which can include men with painted nails, painted faces, glitter beards and high heels, and along with that more feminine mannerisms and campy attitudes, which has arguably been there since the advent of the second image, with Bear cover bands such as “She-L-O” and “Fat-Bottom Girls, but with more of a camp/trash-drag aesthetic.

    L: Where was the first bear bar and what is it called?

    E: There are two locations of note. The first and proto-Bear bar was called the “No-Name” and was located on 8th St. in San Francisco; it later became the Hole In the Wall, that is closer to the clientele of the Stonewall Inn, only more hippies and freaks. The first permanent Bear Bar is The Lone Star Saloon, first located where the Powerhouse sits (on Folsom St., between 9th and 10^th). But which then moved to its location on Harrison St. (affectionately known as HAIR-rison) in 1989, and save for a number of years in the 2010s, has been Bear-owned and operated throughout its history. Along with the (then) Eagle Tavern (now the SF Eagle), the Lone Star was one of two bars that hosted welcome parties on the Thursday night of International Bear Rendezvous (IBR) weekend, which was one of the “Big 3” Bear Runs, along with Texas Bear Round-Up (TBRU) and Chicago Bear Pride, which was always the same weekend as International Mr. Leather. The Lone Star is also very popular during many of the gay high holy days of summer in SF, from Pride to Dore Alley to Folsom. In its heyday, you went there when you wanted to cut loose and get your hang on. There were barrels full of peanuts, and you could throw the shells on the floor as you ate. It was definitely a no-pressure/hangout vibe, and you could either sit at the main bar and join in the conversation with the bartender and patrons on nearby stools, or hang out by the pool table and get picked up, or go out and be around smokers and carousers of all kinds. The contests for Mr. Long Star, Mr. SF Bear and Bay Area Cub are held in the back patio bar.

Link: https://bearworldmag.com/the-bear-guide-lone-star-saloon-san-francisco/

    L: Was there ever a time you felt excluded from a place you thought was inclusive? 

    E: Two things here: before I started exploring Bear space, I often went with out to dance clubs and other mainstream gay spaces, but I only felt like I belonged there because I paid to get in or because I was volunteering. In these places, the unwritten rule that was that you were not to allowed to attend these clubs while being chubby or heavy, or at least that you should not show skin unless you were in shape. I would go and dance my ass off, but if I wanted to fit in around all those shirtless gay men who were blessed with upper body muscle, I would always feel the need to suck in my gut if I followed suit. Gay guys are still BRUTAL with each other when it comes to weight and size and other issues of the gay male body cult.  No one ever came up to me and told me I should put my shirt back on or anything; they wouldn't have to. A disapproving facial expression or side-eye when “one of them” comes in was what you had to deal with. Crossing over to the Bear side of the forest, you would think all the A-list/B-list nonsense wouldn't even exist or be prevalent, but you would be mistaken. We come to the Bear community to find refuge from that mentality, but it takes time to deprogram your mind of all the garbage that goes in it from the mainstream gay community.

    Another instance always stands out to me for happening years after I had been in the community. One Sunday, about a month before moving to San Francisco, I was at The Hole out near the Naval Base in San Diego, for their famous Sunday BBQ/Beer bust—one of the last ones I would go to before moving to San Francisco. I was having a conversation with a fellow well-known Bear, who noted (with delight) how the Bears and guys there were all dressed pretty much the same, and he said to me, “Isn't it wonderful? Seeing all these guys dressed like this?” I was not dressed like the men he pointed out, so I just nodded my head, but inside I was flabbergasted. I said to myself, “No, it's not wonderful, dumb-ass. This is what I came to the Bear community to get away from.” Bears are not supposed to be like everybody else. We make and buck trends, we don't follow them.

    L: How did you first get involved in the Bear community?

    E: I've always been attracted to beefy men, preferring Colt models over the more defined centerfold male image. (Being quite hirsute myself, I've also preferred men with body hair, so like speaks to like. And yet, though Tom of Finland is just as much a part of my early exploration as anyone's, I never really gravitated towards the hyperreal/exaggerated sexuality in those post-card images.

    Thus, my gateway into the Bear community happened during the off part of an on-again/off-again part of a relationship, back in the days of the gay.com chat rooms. First, I started chatted in the Bear room and took quite a liking to those heavy, hairy, horny gay guys that didn't give a damn if others didn't like it. It was liberating and sexy as hell. It wasn't long before I my first Bear sex in just a couple weeks. He was this short, stout, fuzzy, well-hung Daddy Bear with blonde/black hair and just the right kind of gruffness, the kind I would have wanted to submit to. 

    I kept chatting there and met Jeff Breeze, who was the Membear-At-Large for Bears San Diego. He told me about the club and the community and started inviting me to club events, but I would always put it off, whether because of a conflicting event or involvement with MCC-San Diego, my church; I was also a little shy and the type of person who thrives when led by the hand. At San Diego Pride that year, I stayed behind with my church and contingent to wave in other floats and along came the Bears San Diego float. Something came over me and I called out “GO BEARS!” Ron, our organist, looked at me and knowingly asked, “So you're a Bear, are you?” Unlike coming out gay, all this took was about three seconds to realize this, and I said, “You know, I think I am. And that was it—I had my second coming.

    It was time to take the plunge, and I did so at the meet & greet for Sun Bears Weekend, which is where Mr. Bear San Diego and (then) Mr. Cub San Diego were chosen—they were in their third year. I'd been to Wolfs a few times before and felt at home, but this time was different. After they were introduced, the contestants went out to meet and greet more people in the backroom, and I had instant chemistry with my now good friend, Everardo, an older, wiser Latinoso. It felt dangerous to be there being myself, but it was a good kind of danger. I walked out with him side by side to the place where we'd hook up, but it felt like I was being hoisted up on his shoulders, not a care in the world. I joined at the September Den Party, and when as soon as I walked in the door, I got a big hug from the President. I joined at the end of the party. I knew I was home. 

    Stay tuned next week for part 2 of the interview.

©2022-23 Liam Troy and Eric Crow