I traveled to Galveston for the first time earlier this year for Mardi Gras and published a story about it in March. The trip was a blast, despite lingering back problems as a result of my riding for hours on a gigantic moving float, tossing beads to the masses. You can read about that trip — including the just re-opened Robert Lafitte’s — here.  It’s how I hope to remember the city despite the pounding delivered by Ike.

I got an e-mail this morning from our good friend, Texas native and Baylor alum Del Shores, who told me that the ratings so far for his “Sordid Lives” TV series are by far the best ever for a Logo series. Fingers crossed, that means a second season pick-up is in the offing. 

We certainly hope so — especially when Shores’ partner (and co-star on the series) Jason Dottley posts such nice stories. The Mississippi wrote a “top 10 list” for Logo online, naming the best gay places in the South to visit. Dallas … well, read it for yourself here. 

The next episode of “Sordid Lives” airs Wednesday at 9 p.m. on Logo. 

In light of the news that American Airlines will now be charging a minimum of $15 per checked bag on all flights, I was intrigued by a press release from Spirit Airlines. They are inaugurating service between Fort Lauderdale and Columbia, S.C. — and since everyone in my family but me lives in South Carolina, it caused me to notice. The introductory fare for these trips? Nine bucks. That’s 90 dimes; 36 quarters. That’s it.

So I wonder: When I visit my parents, if I come from South Florida, can I fly myself on American and have Spirit take my bags so I can save money?

As a working travel journalist, I often get invited by cities, CVBs, regions and companies to tour their areas so that I might write travel stories that would be of interest to my readers. Some sound fun but impractical; some sound practical but fun-free.

And then there’s the one I just got, from the Branson, Mo., convention bureau.

I have been invited to enjoy a “family” vacation in the Ozarks. But I think my interpretation of the work “family” is different than theirs. Among the activities I can choose from: Showboat Branson Belle; Yakov Smirnoff in Concert; Hamner Barber Variety Show; Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede; and a stage production called “Noah: The Musical.”

Now, I appreciate the invitation. And Dolly is a bit of gay goddess in a blonde wig. But I think the Branson press office might have wanted to tailor the offerings more for a GLBT audience. Although I was intrigued by one option: “Baldknobbers Jamboree Show.” Sounds gayer than anything that’s ever happened in the Castro — and without the irony. But I think I’ll pass on this one.

If I ever had any doubts about whether Las Vegans would turn out for gay Pride, they were allayed on Saturday at Pride Festival, which fell the day after their nighttime Pride Parade (sound familiar, Houston?). Dozens of booths, several live concerts and hundreds, even thousands of visitors — all very graciously and sincerely wish you “Happy Pride.” And perhaps the oddest aspect of it? This pay-to-attend event seemed to be peopled by a fair number of straights who just came out for the food, drink, music and fun. And it’s so far away from the Strip, you wouldn’t even know you were in Nevada.

When you’re traveling, you often forget a few items, and the minibar becomes a salvation. So it is not surprising in Vegas that, for $12, you can purchase a “rescue kit” at the Mandalay Bay resort and casino. Contents include one aspirin, one ibuprofen, one antacid…. and two condoms. After all, he might turn your stomach, he might give you a headache, but that’s no reason you can’t do him. Twice.

How can you tell that Vegas has become so gay-aware? Because almost everyone — even the straight men — don’t dress like slobs anymore.

You don’t even need to dress nicely to fit in here; you only have to dress well.  Do men wear flip-flops, T-shirts and board shorts, even when seeing shows or dining in three-star restaurants? Certainly. But the tees are vintage or bedazzled with the word “Armani,” the shoes besole pedicured feet, the shorts look pressed and tailored, not as if they were in a ball at the bottom of a suitcase 10 minutes before.  It’s getting so you can’t tell the gays from the straights … which, for some guys, is half the fun.

So, with Las Vegas already among the most popular destinations for GLBT travelers, how can you tell when it’s Pride Weekend on the Strip?

Good question.

Truth is, Vegas has been inching toward inclusiveness for years. Funny that, of all the Broadway-style musicals to open here in the last eight or nine years, one — the camp hit “Mamma Mia!” which plays at the luxurious Mandalay Bay — has been the only true hit.

One possible reason: Shirtless guys cavorting on a Greek isle. Yes, if Vegas is, once and forever, home to the sexy showgirl, it now also includes the hot showboy. Equal opportunity ogling — it’s the American way.

Credit the many Cirque du Soleil shows with some of that. At the long-running “O” at the Bellagio, which I saw last night, muscular men in Speedos and clingy wet costumes (which themselves are imprinted with designs to highlight their physiques) outstrip (so to speak) the women in a show that gives new meaning to the term “water ballet.”

More to come…