I don’t remember the first time I met Jay.
Most of you who have met me at a bar after midnight can probably guess why.
What I do remember is a personality. A quiet, shy guy. The kind of guy who had just lost a lot of weight, and wasn’t sure how he looked. The kind of guy who had been around forever, but had always been written off for some reason–and now he wasn’t really sure if he deserved mention.
This is just a bit over two years ago.
Then, I remember a guy who was really excited about getting a New England Rubber Men’s organization back and going…but only wanted to be a member. I remember a guy who watched, and saw our first Mister New England Rubber, Rich (Nochmal) go on to finish first runner up at MIR.
I do remember THAT look. That moment. Something changed right then and there for Jay.
Here’s what you need to understand about Jay: he’s nice. Perpetually nice. Unrelentingly nice. All in a way that meant that, while he never declared himself the leader of our group, he clearly became so. He took on so many responsibilities, organized so much, that he wasn’t a leader by declaration or election–he was a leader by sheer amount of effort and inspiration.
The next year, he competed in and won Mister New England Rubber. My partner, LeatherGloveboy (or RubGloves on Facebook) came in first runner up. And in the process, they became best friends. Jay was that kind of guy.
Some people take on a sash, and think it makes them special. Jay not only played a part in making the sash…he’s the one that made it special. And always will.
Whenever someone from now on puts on the MNER sash, that will mean taking on Jay’s mission. A mission to say that, “no matter who you are or what you’re into, you deserve to let that out.” As he said during the contest that would eventually lead to him becoming Mister International Rubber, he would face everyone with the question:
“Don’t you wish you were having this much fun?”
That positioning made him different, in a very substantial way, from previous MIR winners. You see, rubber isn’t leather. It takes a sense of humor to wear rubber, it’s not convenient in the slightest–it tears easily, conveys cold when it’s cold, heat when it’s hot, and makes you sweat in either case. Jay always got that.
He didn’t win because he was sexier. Or because he was better with a microphone and improving. He won because he was a living incarnation of the idea that all you need to think about is having fun. We don’t get to take ourselves seriously. In the process, that means not only being open to “weird” interests…but often encouraging people to take those interests even further.
Jay wore rubber and that philosophy everywhere. He got people who would never go out in public in gear to show up to public events. He got the name “rubber jason” tattooed on his bicep along with his partner’s name. In just over two years, he went on the trip from being a quiet, unsure member of the community to someone so dedicated to his ideals that he changed fetish for people across the county (well…and world, really, counting the UK and Canada).
Of course, this is the part where I lament that we’re now on this trip without Jay. But, I don’t really think that.
I know that, even though I can’t remember the first time I met him…I can’t imagine my life without him having happened. I’ve never been someone who has needed the kink community to find people to play with. In fact, Boston gives me a rather nice stream of highly intelligent 18-25 year olds who want to experience bondage and rubber in some form or another. What Jay gave me was the ability to feel ok with that. To feel that there is a group of people among whom I don’t have to feel like a pervert or pariah.
When everything is confined to your attic, you’re Anne Frank. Meeting Jay was the fucking liberation of Germany.
That’s pretty much what you need to know about Jay. About why all of us feel so strongly about him. History says where we take it from here…but it will be a harder path than without our rubbery leader.