Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

I’ve been having a little bit of writers’ block lately. Over the past couple of days I’ve sat down on several occasions to write a blog entry but I start overthinking the topic; what I have formulated in my head doesn’t seem really important enough for public consumption. It’s rare for me to worry about such a thing, but I think recent events in our world has kind of skewed my perception of my place in the world or something.

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The Orlando shootings last month really rocked my world. I haven’t really been a gay pride gay for a number of years; there’s a certain amount of outrageousness to me that I don’t really find appealing. As I get older my Myers Briggs INFJ tendencies seem to be getting stronger; crowds just don’t do it for me anymore. But with the Orlando shooting, I have found myself a little bit bolder about speaking my mind and just being who I am. I still didn’t feel the need to attend a Pride event but I’m a happy, if somewhat atypical gay man.

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My friend Jeff likes to use the word “Prideful” a lot. The word was not really part of my lexicon before I met him. He lives in North Carolina and it seems to be a popular word down there. The drawl is optional. We got into a discussion about prideful tendencies lately. I think he was surprised when I remarked that many of the gay men that choose to have these big, voluminous beards seem quite prideful to me. I likened the beards to peacock feathers and the men strutting around like they’re quite the pretty piece as they make their way through a crowd. I made these comments from experience; when I had the larger beard (in ginger no less), I know that I was quite peacocky about it. Now I’m not saying that I set the tempo when it comes to beards and peacocks, but I know a prideful strut when I see it and there’s too much of that in the world. What many of these men need (and please let me be clear that I’m not speaking about ALL the men with huge beards) is a shave and a good dose of humility.

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My love-hate relationship with Facebook continues. I went and followed some political comments from “friends” and sat back and wondered why I’m friends with these people in the first place. I’m so tired of reading about why the other candidate is wrong. I want to read about why their candidate is the right candidate. We need more positivity in the United States. That’s probably one of the biggest problem we have in the States right now.

Facebook has that Passive-Aggressive feature where you can remain friends with an individual but not see their posts anymore. I say screw that. Piss me off enough times and I’ll just unfriend them. I still maintain my steadfast rule that if you promote a Kardashian in any way, you’re off my list, no matter the social network, social settings or place setting at dinner, for that matter. The same rule applies to game requests on Facebook.

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Earl and I have continued our binge watching of “Scandal”. We are currently three-quarters of the way through Season 3 and I can say, without a trace of hesitation in my voice, that this series has turned into a typical Shonda Rimes serial where there’s more Shock! Awe! and OMG You Won’t Believe This! moments than entirely possible in any sort of reality based universe. “Scandal” jumped the shark midway through Season 3. People are killing other people. Teeth are being pulled. Men are licking women’s faces. A prisoner is eating her own wrist. Blood is being thrown about. Screaming. Twists. Turns. The Shock and Awe is non stop. We are continuing through Season 3 and then going to decide if we want to continue the series. It showed such promise when we watched the first and most of the second season, but with the third season it’s just gone completely off the rails. In reality, Season 6 starts sometime this fall, we are now not so sure that we are going to try to binge our way to catch up in time for the latest season premiere.

So at the beginning of the month I mentioned my “3 for 30” challenge for the month of June. I was going to write a blog entry every day, give up Facebook for the month of June and eat natural foods instead of concocted diet stuff.

I started signing into Facebook again about 10 days into the month due to the fact that my family has a private group with a ton of great memories and I wanted to share in those. This led to using Facebook again and I revised my challenge to include just not screaming at the screen when I see something stupid in my news feed. With all the political unrest these days, I’ve seen a heck of a lot of stupidity but I have not screamed once. I’m still not comfortable with the Facebook platform, but like AOL from the 1990s, it’s becoming the hub for family communication. I find this both inevitable and disappointing.

Earl and I have been on such a rapidly moving treadmill this month that we have been eating lunch together whenever possible. I love meeting my husband (and Jamie too!) in the middle of the day to catch up, but it takes away from my typical blogging time. So, I haven’t kept up with my blog with as much regularity as I planned. Compound this with some changes at work and, well, I haven’t had time to blog. I’m going to try this one again for the month of July because I really enjoy sharing my thoughts in long form.

I’m doing well with the non-diet food stuff and am pleased with the results with my health. I’ve been drinking much more water and have shunned the energy bars, diet drinks and potions, etc. My weight has dropped a little bit and stayed there. I’m hoping that this part of the 30 day challenge sets a precedent for the foreseeable future.

Earl and I are currently sitting in a Starbucks in suburban Philadelphia on our way to my in laws for a family gathering. The people watching is awesome (green hair seems to be popular in these parts, too much chlorine in the pool?) and the weather is beautiful. The only thing missing is that I wished I was able to fly is down here today but the airplane is at an avionics shop getting all new radios and navigation equipment. I’m looking forward to it coming home soon.

Whenever I start a new programming project at work, the words of my very first computer teacher, way back in high school, stick in my head: “Never start a program with a GOTO statement.” My project, which ran on an Apple //e, was dinged five points by Mr. Kotschevar because I didn’t follow that advice. 

Whenever I’m landing an airplane, something that I can do quite well I might add, I can still hear the voice of my flight instructor and good friend, Chuck as I make my final approach: “whatever you do don’t get flat. Don’t get flat!” The way I approach a runway there’s not much of a chance that I’m going to get flat, but I still hear his words.

Words stick with us. Words make an impact. Words linger for a long time.

Every once in a while an activist in the gay community (I can never keep up with all the letters) will write an editorial stating that the gay community should reclaim the word “queer”. This thought stems from the way that some African-Americans have reclaimed the “N” word. The argument goes that by reclaiming the word queer, the power to hurt with that word dissipates and we own the label.

The truth of the matter for me is that I don’t want to be labeled.

Back in the early 1970s there was an episode of “Match Game 73” that included a question that went something like this: “Did you hear the latest about Batman and Robin? It turns out they’re _blank_”.

The contestant filled in the blank with “queer”. Nanette Fabray wrote “Fairies”. Elaine Joyce and Bobby Van wrote “Queer”. There was some decency on the panel: Charles Nelson Reilly wrote “Divine”. Richard Dawson wrote “Married”. Brett Somers feigned shock at the answers the others wrote and chimed in with “Lovers”.

The Game Show Network doesn’t show that episode anymore.

I can’t tell you the number of times that I was called “queer” when I was in high school. I have to admit that it didn’t sting as much as being called a faggot, which happened quite a bit as well. I still bristle at the word faggot. A friend jokingly said faggot to me not too long ago and I surprisingly reacted rather emotionally to the word even though he meant no harm and I knew that. 

Words linger on for a long time.

I can understand the argument for reclaiming a word and by doing so taking away the negative connotations and power associated with it. The thing is, I don’t really want to be labeled. I’m just me. When I was in college a girl named Tracy (she was from Long Island) asked if I preferred to be called gay or would I prefer homosexual. I replied that I wanted to be called “John” (this was before I was more insistent that I be called J.P.).  Yes, I am a gay man, I have a husband and I have had homosexual relations for 30 years (quit counting on your fingers, Mom). I’m happy with who I am and I’m comfortable with my sexual orientation. But I don’t want people making assumptions of me based on stereotypes that have historically been associated with words like queer or fag or gay or anything of that nature. Self-imposed expectations of being a gay man held me back for too long. The word queer held me back for too long.

As I prefer to say, if you insist on labeling me then remember this:  I’m just a guy with a husband. While being gay is part of who I am, it doesn’t even come close to describing the full view of who or what I am. I don’t need a label, I don’t want a label, I don’t find any sort of empowerment in labels and I don’t really identify with any sense of community that chooses to label themselves with a string of letters or words like queer.  

You can be as queer as you like (and it even pained me to type that sentence) but don’t expect me to get in lock step with your labeling system.