While there are a handful of out members of Congress (only Tammy Balwin in the Senate), at least we now have role models to emulate and inspire.Īs an interviewee Sims is uncensored, yet somehow manages to answer every question like he’s read, contemplated, and written down the answer before you’ve even spit it out. Sims, the 39-year-old Democratic member of the Pennsylvania House of Representatives, did in fact grow up gay, and his success in politics is making another dream come true: That LGBTQ people have an openly gay place in American politics. And like those guys, our imaginations would run to the impossible dream: If only a man like that could be gay… The Prince of Wales has just that.' Oh, how you can see them swoon at the mere thought of it.Brian Sims reminds me of that older next-door neighbor gay kids might have had crushes on in elementary school: sexy and smart, and so friendly we almost didn’t feel like outcasts when we were in his presence. I have always believed that you get nothing in this life if you do not fight for it. He has grown in confidence and in his determination to say what is truthful. He has a difficult father and was rather kept down it’s the German way. ‘He has great depth’ says Dame Barbara Cartland, although one suspects Charles might pull back on the reins in her company. Self-mockery, by which we mean wry confidence in one’s own ability vulnerability, by which we mean school boyish charm to know that the hearts will melt and the embraces doubtless follow. 'The bad taste of pronouncing on tastes which are other than one’s own,’ says critic Charles Jencks, ‘is no doubt universal, an agreeable enough sin if it’s done with humour and the kind of self-mockery and vulnerability which the prince deploys when he is carbuncle bashing.’ He could really clean the floor were he to turn up on horseback at his next speech on the vagaries of modern architecture. And the fact that unlike, say, Woody Allen, he doesn't sink into tortured neurosis in the process, raises the temperature even further. He need only give that familiar ponderous look to get the fortysomethings over-excited. Women, like Lady Victoria Weymouth, who will simply say, 'I find his mind most attractive,' as behind them a positive Greek chorus forms a queue, nodding approval, espousing the quality of brain matter, toying with the quality of the man beneath. There are women who find the romantic deep-thinking lone campaigner side of him devastating women who will listen for hours to his views. His is a combination of the brave and the artist pukka and palette. True to form, Charles takes his manliness one stage further. Modern fairytales are no different: it is surely a defence of the realm that the future king and queen have enough sex quotient between them to keep the mere mortals happy God forbid that we should have a Windsor who in some way manages to make the rest of us appear to be better than them. Fairy-tales were the opium of the lower classes when news travelled by pack mule by a clever piece of feudal image-manipulation, the prince was the one with the best looks, the largest biceps and the prettiest girl on his arm. There is a more serious side to this of course, as indeed there is a more serious side to Charles. If this were totally the case, then any Master of the Hounds would have women throwing themselves at him from behind every hedge but for every mare he mounts, there is doubtless a woman out there (probably measuring his Aston Martin in the process) for whom Charles on a horse will remain an elusive image of censored royal delights. ‘It is because of the animal physicality of the horses and the intimacy of the relationship between riders and mounts. But there is undoubtedly an element of the haystack in Charles's renaissance: 'The horse world is very raunchy,' says one commentator. Some argue that the Prince is handsomely helped in the sex appeal stakes by the presence of horses a spurious theory, in many eyes, spread by those who believe that rugby is a stage-piece for homoeroticism. If, as one admirer put it, Charles is 'at his most sensual on horseback', it is when he dismounts and starts peeling it all off that those watching realise that a day at Smith's Lawn is worth the traffic jams. It is nothing as base as bare chests and tight breeches, insists one polo wife but it is. The Sweat Factor allows public shirt-changing, a glimpse at royal disrobing.
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