Life pacts

When my son Dylan was born, I stayed right next to him for his first hour as he passed around from one neo-natal room to another. He was confused and frightened, and he held my finger as though it were a life preserver. As I tried my best to assure him that everything would be all right, I was struck with an almost mythic feeling that we were now tied to a great circle of life. As I comforted him as he came into the world at one end of the cycle, I couldn't stop thinking about the two of us at the other end of that cycle, when he would be there to comfort me at the end of my life. Contemplating the profundity of this moment gave me great joy.

It occurs to me as I go to Iowa to see my father before he dies, that he and I are in a similar pact. As he was next to me when I came into the world, it is necessary that I be there next to him as he is leaving the world. There are no tears, except those of joy that this life cycle will have been fulfilled.

The girl who could fly

This poem came to me in a dream last night. I have no idea what it means, but for some reason, I weep inconsolably when I read it:
.
.
Though Lily had cherished her mama,
When she left they both started to cry
They embraced for they knew it was time to let go
For Lily had learned how to fly.

When she’d float down the street people loved her.
When she soared across town no one jeered.
When she raced with a jet they applauded.
When she charged into space people cheered.

But one day she stopped all her flying
For she heard a small voice in her head.
She floated down gently to Mama’s old house
And hovered there over her bed.

“Oh Lily, my love, I can see you.
I knew you would come if I bid.
You are there in the dark ceiling corner.
I knew that you’d come and you did."

Then the nurse came and asked “what’s the matter?
Take your meds. Are you starting to feel?
If you think it’s your daughter the end is quite near.
For a girl that is floating’s not real.”

“I am here,” Lily said. “Are you ready?”
Her mama then nodded, “prepared.”
Lily gathered her up and then silently rose
Through the roof just as though it weren’t there.

Mama’s house got increasingly smaller
As Lily rose up to the sky.
Her Mama just watched, “She’s so strong and so sure.
I’m so proud that my daughter can fly.”

“What color is heaven?” Mama asked her
Lily smiled “What shade do you think?”
“I’ve always liked bright friendly roses my love”
“You’re in luck then ‘cause heaven is pink.”

Lily passed through the last misty cloud bank
and they both looked across and were awed.
Mama held out her finger before her and stretched
And just touched the finger of God.

Alan Mead

I met Alan Mead in high school.  When I realized his sense of humor was as wicked and well...sophomoric... as mine, we became fast friends. Truth be known, though, he was always funnier than me.   Because we were part of a tiny group of males in the predominately female drama class, we were cast in nearly every production...often doing several parts.  We became a team.   When Mrs. Husted read off  who would play what part in "U.S.A",  we were doing so many parts that she eventually just said that the part of so-and-so would be played by "AJ."   The crowning glory of my high school performing career was "Mark Twain Tonight."  Alan, who was even more of a Twain freak than I, immediately volunteered to do the makeup.  The makeup he designed turned out to be as much of a triumph as my performance.

Alan and I nearly died together once.  We went on an ill-conceived hike into the Rincon Mountains ...in the middle of summer.  We both wound up suffering extreme heat exhaustion.  Had it not been for the kindly park rangers who took pity on the idiot children passed out by the side of the road, we might never have made it back.  When we were in bed recuperating from our ordeal, my sister teased us that half of our bodies was white and half was red.  Alan's response was "we're part Indian."

When Alan's family moved to Mesa, he stayed with my family to continue going to High School in Tucson.  It was a slightly illegal situation, but it took the Man six months to catch us.  For that six months that we lived like brothers the laughter never stopped.

Alan moved to California after High School.  He visited, although not nearly as often as I would have liked.  On one of those visits he came out to me as gay.   I was totally surprised but he said not to worry.  He was surprised when he found out too.  Unfortunately, I was also sad to learn he was gay...not because there's another wrong with it...but because the friend I had loved all though years was gone and I would never see him again.  I grieved for one day until I was able to accept this new improved friend and get to know him. 

Years later I was able to return the favor by coming out to him as trans.  (I'm paraphrasing here of course.  Trans wasn't a word back then.)  His only response was to warn me not to make it public knowledge because it could be used against me.   His "sayings of sooth"  were tragically prophetic. 

In High School, Alan promised me that on Jan. 1st 2000, he would come to my psychiatrist office (that's what I wanted to be back then....ironic huh?)  and announce that had come to see the "Sakeeatrist."   I don't remember what prompted this or even where he had come up with the word, but he vowed he would do it.   I looked forward to that time and was heart broken when the millennium came and went and Alan never showed up.  Since I just learned that he recently committed suicide, I guess now I can stop waiting.  

I will always love you, O greatest friend of my youth

Alan Mead 1956-2016

Blue Galaxy

For a locally produced and original play, I was expecting "Blue Galaxy" to be little more than bunch of high schoolers saying "Hey, kids, let's put on a show." It was nothing of the sort. Kim Porter's play was a nuanced, moving, and at times heartbreaking story of the self-destructiveness that accompany being a "fat chick."

Elizabeth Mueller, was phenomenal as Lana. The part seemed almost created for her as she was stunningly lovely, but still tormented by her weight issues. Her presence was such that it was hard to look at much else when she was on stage, This was actually a detriment, as often two stories were going on at opposites sides of the stage and her side of the stage took focus away from the main story on the other side,

Miss Mueller's presence, singing, and acting almost completely eclipsed the other cast members. The notable exceptions were Doug Waldo's invalid and hateful Buddy Dale, Rodney Dickerman's delightful Betty (aka Steve's mom,) and Amy Carpenter's clueless but subtly underplayed transgender Tina. Tina was especially original and fresh, as there has NEVER been a trans character portrayed without at least some shock value. Tina was "just one of the girls" and had it not been for a clever bit of blocking, you would never have known she was anything else.

On a personal note: had this been a movie, it would have been a serious chick flick. Since I realized that I enjoyed it much more than the recent spat of superhero movies I seen, I decided that I guess that six years of HRT have finally taken their toll and changed my tastes in shows.

Blue Galaxy's final performances will be today and tomorrow at Space 55. Do not fear though, It was so good that I'm sure that it will eventually be played elsewhere.

Driving Miss Jimmye

If this gets out feminists will go ballistic and if you tell anyone about this I will find you and I will kill you, but ....when I was a man... I was a better driver.

Maybe it's the multitasking thing or something, I don't know. I just find myself easily distracted when before I could more easily focus on the task of driving. I no longer have a "turn" signal. I have a "I am turning" signal. And sometimes I even have a "I turned just then" signal.

On the other hand, if someone wants to cut in front of me, I let them. I no longer find myself saying, "Oh hell no. Look, Buddy, I don't know who you are. I don't know where your goin'. All I know is, you ain't gettin' there ahead of me!"

(Yes, my grammar is better now too.)

It's just a jump to the left

This morning I mentioned that I was afraid my Rocky Horror days were over. A bit of explanation might be in order. I enjoyed the show itself. I particularly enjoyed seeing Jaden LaRoche's Frank N. Furter. Her exuberance and dead-on portrayal of the corseted one made me smile every time she was on stage. Everyone else in the cast who noticed me in the peanut gallery were warm and, dare I say it, affectionate.

The problem came during the after show get together. I don't know if it was my familial paranoia, being hard of hearing and unable to hear a lot of the nearby conversations, or if people were just intimidated by my indescribable beauty (it is a curse sometimes.)

Whatever the reason, I spent a good portion of the time alone. It's true that some kindly souls did rescue me from my apparent isolation, but even then folks seemed nervous to engage me in conversation. Some even looked away shyly when our eyes happened to meet. I wound up feeling old, out of touch, and very much out of place.

Several cast members have come forward to ask me to reconsider my position and come to the next show. Since in hindsight my out-of-place feelings are most likely due to paranoia, I will probably do that...if for no other reason than to not give in to faulty thinking.

If I do come and you see me again at Denny's, if I appear withdrawn or unapproachable, please know that I very much want to interact with you. I'm just dealing with internal demons which I'm sure you fortunate people do not have to deal with.

Oh, and I'll be sure to ugly up so you won't have to worry about bursting into flames when you behold the beatific vision hiding in the corner.

Hetrosexuals

Normally, I try to write humorous updates, but tonight I need to talk about serious.  I know it's not considered politically correct to say this out loud, but I am a hetero-phobe and I am damn proud of it.  I think this whole "mixing of the sexes" thing is icky, so it clearly must be unnatural and against the will of my deity.  I haven't quite found the scripture that backs up this claim but I know it has to be in there.  I just have to keep looking. 

It has been proven over and over again that if you let these "heteros" as they are called...if you let them cross breed, 90% of the time their spawn will be just as hetero as they are......90%!  Gross!  And SOMETIMES this sexual mongrelization will even produce monsters with mixed up body parts....like the body of one sex and the brain of the other.   Clearly, this hetrosexuality is an abomination and has to stop. 

If the right wing has taught  us nothing, they have taught us that being gay is the natural state of humankind.  Why else would it be so easy to "recruit" young men into the gay lifestyle?  It is obvious that any normal, well-adjusted young man will completely give up girls forever after tasting dick....just one time....that's all it takes.

So, people...I beg of you.  We have to nip this thing in the butt....I mean the bud.  In the bud!  Just stick with your own kind.