ABOUT ME

Hello,


Thanks for stopping by,  now,  I'm guessing that because you're on a page entitled Jason's Bio,  you want to kow more about me,  your host,  that true?


OK,  so  here we go,   where shall I start?  Oh yeah,  my names Jason,  but I guess you probably already knew that, huh?   Anyway,  I've toyed with this little bio for ages,  I was going to write it in the third person format,   but to be totally honest, that just made me sound like a complete jackass,  I mean  who the hell goes around describing themselves in the third person context?     Then I thought  I'd just do it as plain simple facts,  in pretty much the order of them happening,  but I read that back and even I was bored to death and it was my life for crying out loud.  So,  in the end,  I've cobbled this together,  it's not much,  it's nothing really special,  but it'll give you the opportunity to get to know me a little better.

So,  right,  here we go, for the second time,   this is me,  Jason Shaw,  a happy cheesecake eating, red wine drinking, writer from Brighton, West Sussex.    I write loads of stuff, some good, some not so good,  some on this blog and on other websites.  I mainly write about gay issues, news, views and events from  both around the UK and the wider world stage.  I also write the odd bit of fiction,  the odd short story, so  maybe keep ya eyes out for those.    


Now,  that's pretty much the basics over and done with,  so  let's take a little breather before we delve off into the dim and dark corners of my mind to recall some of my past!   You sure your not bored yet?      I was born and bread in Surrey, yes,  honestly,  born -  not hatched or created in some lab or other.   I kinda like Surrey,  it's sort of green,  rather pleasant and apparently it's got a fringe on top,  though I've never seen that!     


It may come as a surprise,  but  I rather liked school, even though I was bullied a little.  Well, a swotty,  ugly kid with glasses and a briefcase is just asking for trouble!  But hey,  as they say,  what doesn't kill you makes you stronger!   My father had been in an officer in the Royal Navy and at times thought he still was,  failur to comply with orders in the required time would result in punishment, usually of the physical kind.   I had a problem with reading and writing,  I loved doing it,  I just wasn't very good at it,  those darn letters kept on jumping about and swapping places.    I guess it was kinda tough at first,  most teachers thought I was a nice kid,  but a little on the thick side.  I suppose I believed them,   I wasn't clever,  I wasn't smart,  and hey  they were the teachers,  they'd been to university and everything and I was just a little kid from Surrey.  So,  I traveled along being thought of a thick,  a dunce,  a Joey  as we used to call not so bright people back then.  I was also called four-eyes, goggle head, speccy, amongst many others.   I'd tel you know I didn't mind it,  but  at the time it was probably a different story  and I guess I was pretty much a bit of a lonely boy -  being bullied kind of does that to you,  and as   the teachers thought  I was not the sharpest tool i the box,  nothing much was expected of me,  I was, pretty much left on my own.




Teachers can make all the difference,    I really believe that,   you get a good educator  with a passion for their subject and it's infectious,  it makes kinds interested  and once interest is piqued learning becomes less of a chore and more fun.   I had two teachers like that,   one for geography and the other my English master,  who recognized that I wasn't a thick or a lazy child,  but that I had a real problem with reading,  writing and spelling.   I was no longer the thick kid with glasses at the back of the class,  I became a child with a difficulty,   but,  with some extra help,  a lot of extra work on my part,  a difficulty that I could overcome. 


I've knew I was different from the age of 13 or so when I had a kinda crush on Louis,  my best friends boyfriend, he was a dream boy,  at the time I didn't really know why I want to have his arms around me,  I just did.   It was a slow realization,  that I,  was not as other boys,  that I was different, although at the time I didn't know  that difference was that simple fact I was a big old nelly!


I had tingly feelings inside about boys,  mostly older ones, I liked the way the looked,  I  wanted to be close to them,  but I didn't know why.  Don't forget,  back then we didn't have the internet,  or mass media as we have today. I mean  we only had four TV channels and three of those went off at night!   It was a different time,  a time where perhaps childhood lasted a little longer than now,  but for me,  the notion that I was different,  not like the other boys,  isolated me.  It forced me to retreat deeper into my self,  my own mind, which at times wasn't the best place to be. 


Slowly,  I came to the understanding,  first with myself  that  I was actually  'one of those'   you know,  a boy  that's a little limp wristed!  Not the kind to join the army,  or rather more to the point,  the navy,  much to my fathers disappointment.  I know  he'd have dearly loved a son of his to follow in his footsteps and embark on a career as an officer in the forces,  but hey,  that wasn't for me,  though now,  a confided space with lots of hot sweaty manly men in uniform,  has an altogether different appeal!


I had no clue about being gay,  other that what was on TV,  which  was John Innman  in Are You Being Served,   Colin and Barry on Eastenders and Jesse Birdsall on some London gangster mini series,  so I didn't really have a lot of role models.    I remember trying to talk to one of the teachers about my secret sexuality at school after class, but,  well  this was against the backdrop of Thatcher's Britain,   section 28 was just around the corner,  enlightened times, well  they weren't.  However,   I knew,  deep inside,  that I couldn't keep hiding away forever.   I was a sack of hormones, desires and I knew I couldn't wait for the travelling fair to come back again. 


I was the life and soul of the party,  well for a while at college,  until I did what was for some, the unspeakable!   I  came out!    The one single declaration  saw the big group of people I'd called friends whittle down to just  two.  A shock and a blow for sure,  but at least I was no longer living a lie, not  to them,  but also far more importantly not to myself. 




Jumping ahead a long while here,   mainly because,  I can't remember the details,  although it took a long time for me to actually get some affection and even longer before I found love.  I'll be honest,  and tell you it was a lonely heart ad in the back of Sky Magazine,  that bought a long tall handsome stranger into my life.   When I say tall, I mean  TALL,   be was a tad over six foot six,   I was five foot six,  so an odd couple we made,  but hey,  none of that matters in the glow of first love!


I came out to my parents,  first my mother,  who said she already knew,  apparently mothers always know such things before their sons.  A little later to my father,  who said he understood,  but would never again be alone in a room with me.  We communicate,  but we don't talk anymore,  which to be honest,  isn't a bother to me at all. 


I would hate to say I was the only gay in the village,  because that would be a cliche  and untrue,  I'm sure there were others,  but I didn't know of them,  where they were,  or  where they hang out.   I was perhaps more alone after coming out than I ever was before.   However,  I knew that up the train tracks lay London and I knew that had loads to offer a young gay -  a stolen copy of Gay Times told me that!     Yes,  really,  I stole a copy of Gay Times (Yes, pretty much exactly like that scene in the film Beautiful Thing)  and I found my way to Heaven, yes the club in London and not the place upstairs and beyond the clouds!     




OK,  so I was under age, but hey, I'd spiked up the hair, took off the glasses, had a natural six pack, was a skinny little thing,  wide eyes and an innocent face.  I had no trouble!  I'd gone looking for love,  for the man of my dreams and a happy ever after.  What I found was so many older guys buying me drinks, getting me drunk and wanting to do various things to and with me,  most of which I'd never even heard of.  I guess,  to coin a phrase,  the chicken had landed and well,  I may have been innocent,  but even I realized that happy ever after only survives in fairytales.  To me,  back then,   happy ever after became happy ever after until the end of the weekend!     


Love didn't seem to knock at my door, so  I lived for the weekends, where I would go out, get drunk and get pulled,  I suppose each time,  I hoped that each of those guys would be Mr Right,  but all they ever were was Mr Right Now!  I guess that's how life is sometimes.  


Life kinda came to a crashing halt when I and the guy I was with at the time got set upon after leaving a club,  he got away, I got a beating.  I forget how many ribs were broken along with the nose during that  gay bashing,  but it really freaked me out for a while.    I stopped going out,  I retreated  into myself,  if  being beaten up and left for dead because of my sexuality was part of this world,  I didn't want to be in it any more is how I felt.

I came out to my parents,  first my mother,  who said she already knew,  apparently mothers always know such things before their sons.  A little later to my father,  who said he understood,  but would never again be alone in a room with me.  We communicate,  but we don't talk anymore,  which to be honest,  isn't a bother to me at all. 

I got on with life,  fell in love with a guy called Simon, I thought it was forever,  but  hey,  just like happy ever after,  forever only ever happens in those  fairy tales,  still it was fun while it lasted.  I got a job in the Airline business, which was fun, exciting and afforded cheap European travel -  in fact a flight anywhere in Europe cost a £5!  I loved work,  love the travel and loved the challenges, loved the travel.    


Had a nice life,  shared a house with two other air hosties, Jilly and Jacquie from the same airline and an accountant called Eric.  Some of those parties were pretty wild, especially the one that invloved burnt cork!  I loved local radio, and some how managed to bag a job at a local radio station, just at the weekends,  but that love of radio, of communication burnt deep in to my soul.


The airline went bust,  the three of us in that house were all out of work,  so I did what any other normal person does,  I jumped up and down  moved to the coast and became a redcoat,  before moving on to be an entertainer at a holiday centre in Dorset.   It not a job you do for the money,  I worked on average a 96 hour week and took home £81,  but hey,  it was fun,  it was a laugh,   I got to sing and dance on stage,  I was happy.   During the closed or winter season I went off and worked for a magic company, selling tricks and illisuions  and that sort of thing, which proved to be more hard work that it was worth and also made me highly distrustful of any and all magicians! 


For a while I did promotion work, freelance stuff,  auditioned for a few shows,  I thought I'd get a break in the business they call show,  but with no formal training,  in fact no training of any kind,  that break never really happened,  unless you count bit parts and 'extra' stuff as a break,  which I didn't and don't,  still it was fun while it lasted,  and there is something kooky about seeing the back of your head on TV  or  perhaps that arm in the Rovers behind Bette  is my arm  and all that.   




The boss at the radio station called and by some piece of good fortune,  gave me a job,  first in the music library, then researching,  then producing, then presenting, then doing anything.  It was a great experience,  I learnt a lot,  broadcasting is a lovely industry to be in,  especially if you are a little crazy and a tad egotisitcal.   I loved all aspects of it,  even doing the overnight show,  it was a thrill,  a job that I will always look back on fondly.   
Becoming the presenter and producer of the Saturday afternoon sports was a bit of a challenge,  but I think I rose to it,  more than doubling the audience figures and nominated for an award!  


Life was pretty good at that time,  I even had a couple of stalkers,  yes it's true,  I had two,  one serious and one not so serious.  I'd get odd notes left at home for me,  or put through my door just after I'd gotten in.  Phone calls started soon after the notes,  and some  would come in the middle of the night,  some would just be silent,  some would detail  the time I'd arrived home,  what I was wearing and where I'd been that day!  Yep,  it was just a tad scary,  probably made me a bit of a challenge to work with,  always looking over my shoulder,  but hey,  what doesn't kill you makes you stronger,  at least that's what they say.


The radio station went through some changes,  not least in ownership and well,  costs needed to be cut  and I guess,  I was one of those costs,  I was cut   and life took on a new curve.   I went freelance after that and started writing,  I had an advice/agony column in a weekly gay newspaper, I also created features and other stories for that paper along with other magazines. I produced and presented video travel brochures and the odd voice over and radio show.  But,  I kinda liked the freelance lifestyle rather than the actual working bit.   Mind you,  I had one hell of a sun tan in those days!   It's amazing how,  a whole section of life, perhaps two years or more worth fits into a neat little paragraph?  Anyway, it does,  and life moves on a pace,  Ed was the man of the moment,  who talked me back into full time employment.




Since then, I've done all kinds of things,  including window cleaning, selling coach tickets, dancing, waiting tables,  selling holidays,  I've flown around the world - twice,  I've been in a bike accident that broke my knee, arse and back!   Fast forward a few years and I had a dancing accident which to cut a long long story one line short resulted in me having a five hour op which put a metal plate in my leg to hold the bones together!


I'm sure there is loads loads more I could tell you,  share with you more intimate moments of my life,  but,  well,   do you really wanna know?  Probably not,  besides,  you now know all the basic info,  the interesting back story,  the prologue,  the introduction to the life that is mine.   I'm sure if you want to know anything else,  you'll either find it in the normal blog posts,  or  you can ask me about it!


I thank you for reading this far,  really, thank you,   you've paid more interest in my life than even I have at times!   If I was there right now,  I'd go buy you a coffee in Starbucks!