Well, thank you very much! Here are some more ones to help you remember even more: 11111111111111111111111111. But film was a surprise, and I look forward to seeing some of your stuff as you direct us to them. I am absolutely sure that your sensitive nature will offer true touching messages to the world that it shall find quite hard to ignore. You, no doubt, had projects assigned to you at BYU and are proud of many of them. Hopefully, you might consider sharing them as well. Here in Seattle we actually have a well-attended festival of gay-themed films every year. I've passed by the Paul Allen owned theater many times as the titles were advertised. Lines were present that extended around the block. Is Hollywood a future pilgrimage, or is Utah's film presence sufficiently bold so that work may be found within it? Even from my slight glimpse of your personality and persona I can tell that your major was the perfect choice for you.I didn't reply on the touch issue because it was somewhat upsetting for me. Indeed, were I privy to some sort of classified information and had been captured by some terrorist group and set down to be tortured for what I knew, they would not have to set me on fire, or cut off my fingers one by one, or threaten to gut a puppy in front of me, or play rap for hours on end non-stop, or immerse me in water while connected to a 50,000 volt live wire in order to get me to talk. No. No. No. All they would have to do is set a grandmother next to me (as long as she doesn't look too wizened) and have he hold my hand without ever letting it go. At first, I would strongly resist and keep trying to remove the hand from her grasp. Then, as time passed, I would begin to feel happier and happier until I was transported into joy itself. And then the tears might possibly begin to flow, who knows? At that point all of my defenses, such as they are, would have broken down and I would spill the beans. If I resisted even so, all they would have to do is add another grandma, and then I would be toast and all my secrets would be secret no longer.Needless to say, if I were ever about to be given classified information, I would immediately tell the providers that I am torture-weak and could guarantee nothing. Whatever they told then would no longer be secure. Touching is my biggest fear. Hopefully, there won't be very much of that in Paradise, or I might not be there for very long.
I think its cool your doing videos, I wish I had the guts to show my face... but not yet.
Jonathan, would you be willing to talk about how your mission was like for you, as a gay man, i.e., did you fall in love with anyone while serving, did you have any companions for whom you had a "thing", any thing else you would like to share about that experience as a gay man?And, what kind of support (family and friends) do you have as a gay man, active in the church, but one who is seeking a full gay relationship?Thank you. :)And, yes, 1-11-2011 is an easy date to remember! LOLLove and respect, always. Duck
@Steven- Question for you... has touch always been something you despised? How about when you were younger? Do you wish that you didn't fear it? Or do you feel like you aren't missing out at all?Of course, you don't have to answer these questions. I just find your experience interesting. I hope that you have still managed to find fulfillment in your life the way you define it.@Trevor- It is a big step, showing your face... but it is also so liberating. One day I am confident that you will ;)@Duck- Funny that you asked about my mission. I actually already recorded a video on this topic. However, I may have to do a follow up video addressing some of your specific questions.
Yay openness and transparency! I'm a big Jonathan Adamson fan!
I can't remember my earlier days very well, but there is an ancient family film clip which shows me greeting my mother and father after they had returned from a trip on the tarmac of a small airport when I was maybe in second or third grade or so. I hang back really reluctant to hug my mom, but after about ten seconds the desire to do so overcomes me and I walk over to her and give a brief and awkward hug that barely registers on my mom's face.I do remember that by the time I entered into Junior High (middle school these days) I never touched anybody and when they touched me it was by hitting me as hard as they could just because it was fun and safe to do, since I never reacted except by asking them to stop. I was about this time an active Boy Scout, going to campouts and weekly evening meetings, but then something happened of which I have no recollection that caused me to radically change my social habits, such that I withdrew from all social activities. I had a girl friend, but I ended that as well. No idea of why, and so from 7th grade until, basically now, I did nothing socially at all, becoming a complete social hermit. I would go to school, sit totally quiet in the classroom, hating whenever the teacher would single me out to answer a question, which, if it required offering a opinion, always caused laughter from the assembled audience, and then walk home alone. I had no friends at all, and apparently was accepting of the situation. A couple of people over the years did offer their friendship, I remember, but their attempts never went beyond the first meeting, because it didn't take them long to discover how much of a dweeb I was and how boring I was to be around. It was just better to be by myself. It really was. At home nobody ever touched anybody else, no kissing or the like, unless it was Dad, handing out a well-deserved punishment here and there, in the form of brief spanking. Mom and Dad fought constantly, but they never divorced because back then, during the 60's, people just didn't divorce, mostly because of the social stigma it created.Certainly, I saw other people touch each other, especially the kind of kissy touching that went with being romantic. At the time, and even today, I thought all of that to be really crude and very, very unsanitary. I'd never do it, even today. To be touched makes me very nervous because of the trust issues involved. I always immediately recoil, except with my friend Brad when we exchange a monthly hug after he has walked me back to my car after my monthly visit to Portland, which I've been doing for more than 20 years now. I don't mind it then, and actually look forward to it, but if it ever went further than that, which it never has, I'd have to analyze whether I wanted it to continue. Brad is gay, but he is also 20 years younger than me, and I am fat and ugly. Handshakes are okay. Otherwise, stay away from me. I don't trust what you are selling. It's an invasion of my space. I fear the power that your touch might have over me. I will not lose control. As I have written before: distance is safety.