Even men who do not identify themselves as bears seem to understand why it is important to identify as such and I rarely get flack for it anymore. I, myself, had some initial internal phobia (of some kind) when I came out. I was told I was bearish and could be even more of a bear if I grew facial hair. Well, I didn't like to shave (and didn't have a particular preference for facial hair at that time) but all I knew was that I strongly preferred hairy men. Body hair was the one telling factor to me when it came to why I was more attracted to men than women. After a short while, of course, I realized that this was a sexual preference, not just an admiration. I was also blessed to be very hairy (and boy did I pray hard for it when I was a kid). My father always talked about how masculine it was to be hairy and have broad shoulders. Masculinity was definitely something that I aspired to (despite my tinkering at the piano and almost becoming a competitive, professional roller skater – it could happen!). Well, Dad curtailed my "un-masculine" interests by not allowing any more lessons in either venue, but one thing he always left me with was a huge admiration for Barbra Streisand – to the point that I now wonder if my now-deceased father was not telling me something.

Anyway, a lot of people I know had a problem with the price of Growlarama and boycotted it. Those in attendance though complained very little, if at all, during the events. I think what helped was that the fabulous organizers did a great job of reminding everyone – often – of how much money was being raised and for what charities (which Lurch mentioned were not just gay, not just AIDS, not just for adults, etc.). The charities were for bear habitat in the wild, a directly funding AIDS-research organization and a burned children's recuperation fund.

The events included a bar night (obligatorily), a country-western dance night (which was less attended but very special in it's own way) and a contest night. With those were thrown in a Greenwich Village tour and a couple of other events and brunches. My two-stepping friends and square-dance friends will be shocked how I got the "bug" and now see why it is addictive to them. I always excuse myself from dancing because I tell people that I do not have a "dancing body" although I do consider myself rhythmic for a white guy. However, this type of dance (to one of my least favorite genres of music, no less) has much more physical contact that disco. The fun includes requiring people to look into each other's eyes, feel what the other person's body is about to do and holding strange men close to one another even when ordinarily one might not feel comfortable enough to approach another. One cannot help but smile and there is not a sullen face in the crowd.

When I went to my first bear event, it was almost on a dare. I actually believed that I was going to see part of the city of Chicago! How naïve I was. I had a bear lover at the time who I had met almost immediately after coming out (actually he was a catalyst for why I came out as I was for him). Reluctantly I had started to accept that being a bear was pretty okay. However, it was not until I perceived the camaraderie (and really learned how to use my gaydar – which I now call beardar) of Bear Pride '96 that changed my life. It was only after I went to the event (which I believe had 1,000 or so attendees) and saw wall to wall fur and huskiness on faces from men all over the world (and admirers of course) that I realized that bear lovers were more than just a small minority with a fetish in the gay community. I realized that I would always have to keep my eyes open for a bear whatever city I'm in and whatever street I'm walking down.