Last July my husband and I were sitting along side a beautiful pool in a gay resort in Palm Springs, California. We were relaxing and on a quick getaway from life. My husband had given his all to his career for decades and was able to retire at a fairly young age; I took up the mantle and continued the whole “power gay couple” vibe and continue to do so today, with a sprinkling of vacation time here and there.
We didn’t know anyone around us at the beautiful gay resort. It was gorgeous and so were most of the men in the pool. Conversation flowed freely. Some were clothed, some were not. I was drinking early in the day. I was intent on exploring new facets of my personality. INFJ is a result, not a label. Let’s explore what it really means. I do this from time to time. There’s nothing wrong with new discoveries. Push your boundaries! There’s a place to do it and a place to refrain.
As naked and barely clothed men swam in the pool, as the club music quietly presented itself from the pool side speakers, as we mused about our current affairs and where we are in this life, I suddenly bolted up from my lounge chair and made a declaration to my husband.
I’m going to write my autobiography and it will be called “Trip The Moment Fantastic”! The exclamation points were in my voice.
He asked, “What does that mean”?
I replied, “I have absolutely no idea but at this moment in time it makes perfect sense to me.”
I will turn 52 years old here in this mess we call 2020. I’ve had a couple of successful careers during my lifetime and if I must say so I’ve done some pretty awesome things. When it comes down to the lowest common denominator, I have absolutely nothing to complain about. Nothing. As Sandy Duncan, while in her 40s, once said, “I’ve done some great things in my life. The rest of it is gravy”.
I like this gravy!
When I declared the title of my unwritten biography in my head I was in an altered state. As I write this right now my head is in a similarity constructed altered state. COVID-19, coronavirus, meteors, and all the other ills of the world: the fact of the matter is, I’m sitting in a beautiful condo on the north side of the third largest city in the United States. We moved here from a very red part of the country some folks call a “snowy Alabama”. The root of my upbringing is “Thank god I’m a country boy!”, my head is a middle of the road politico, not too liberal and not too conservative, and my heart is where I am right now: if someone gave me a test I’d be on something other than a rainbow spectrum, I love technology, people make me crazy, and I really want to fly an airplane. And I am hopelessly in love with my husband, so thankful for our chosen family, and grateful for my upbringing, my family, and my bloody relations.
If I sat down and wrote “Trip The Moment Fantastic” I’m certain no one would read it. While my life has been quite wonderful, I would have no dreams of it becoming Kardashian worthy. My life has been perfect for me but no chapter would make “Hard Copy”. So I write in a private journal, password protected from prying eyes, and no pieces will be shared until I’ve moved to whatever comes next. My husband knows how to share my musings after I’m long gone.
But the title rings beautifully for me. “Trip The Moment Fantastic”. Such beautiful words. Like the screen name “Machias”, which still rings as spectacularly as it did for me in 1990, “Trip The Moment Fantastic” rings as a reminder to me: enjoy the moment. It likes a loud, golden bell, ringing louder than anything Jaye P. Morgan smacked on a game show.
Enjoy life. Be Free. No one else has your point of view, make the absolutely best of it.
I want my gravy to be awesome.
