For three more weeks, I’m staying at an artist’s residency in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It’s beautiful country here, roughly 7,000 feet up on a high desert at the tail end of the Rockies. Faceless and not, most men on the apps say I’m here for the best time of

It’s a sin when success complains. That’s how I feel as a gay man who moved to San Francisco from what Californians affectionately call “flyover country.” It’s pretty damn great, living here. So what if everything closes at 2am (#4) and there aren’t any bathhouses to go to (#5). Compared