A blog exposed

I’ve taken some time off of late from writing. It’s all a good thing. One can not always focus on the news and the world, especially when the world seems to be going to hell. At least, that is my take on it. We went away for a couple of days for Thanksgiving. We went to Mystic, Connecticut and stayed at the Inn at Mystic. They serve a wonderful traditional Thanksgiving dinner. Before dinner, we went to Bluff Point and enjoyed the scenery and a nice sunset. After dinner, we returned to our room. Kent made a fire in the fire place in our room, while I enjoyed the jacuzzi (yes, I did kind of go all out on the room, but I wanted it to be special).

My Thoughts Over Thanksgiving
You know, for most of my life, I have had a hard time dealing with people’s attitudes towards my sexuality. I’ve always, for the most part, been able to hide it from friends and family - at least in the early part of my life.

Later, for reasons beyond my control, it has been impossible to hide. People change as they get older. I would like to be able to honestly say that the older you get, the less you care about what other people say or think. But that’s not totally honest.

I believe that what you gain with age is the ability to separate out what is real and what matters from all the crap that life and people dish out. The “crap” I talk of, in my case, is trying to be something that you are not for the sake of other people. Some of those other people will say that they are your family, therefore you shouldn’t embarrass them for being... you. You should be something that they would be proud of (as opposed to being... you - something they would be ashamed of). This is how I spent most of my youth, trying to measure up to what society and my family expected me to be.

College Years
Other people I talk of are friends. Are they really friends? Well, in the absence of anyone else who calls them self your friend, I suppose they are. Everything is relative. Of course, there are conditions to that friendship. They must never know you are gay - EVER. If they do, they will drop you like a hot potato. And if they even hear a rumor that you are a homosexual, suddenly, you are treated as though you have a plague. You are ostracized. You are teased. And suddenly, you find yourself wondering if all this shit is worth it. I’ve been there. We’ll call that my youth and my “college years”, for the most part. Our later years in Voorhees Hall at college were not what you would call fun. It’s not all bad though. College is, after all, a place for learning, is it not? Being made fun of and losing friendships was a learning experience for me.

Present Day
What did I learn. Basically, most people are self-serving bigots who only care for themselves. Of course, to be fair, times have changed somewhat. We now live in the age of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy”. This is today’s version of “acceptance” - it’s ok to be gay if you can offer something good to straight people - specifically straight guys. If you can’t, that makes you a gay guy that is accepted, but only because the girl friend or the wife accepts you. If that’s not the case, do not pass go and do not collect $200 because you are a “fag”. Unless they work with you. In that case, you are ok, because they have to work with you. But see, then you are accepted because they once again “need you”. So it all works out, I suppose. If Michelangelo were alive today, would the Vatican be kicking gay priests out of the church? Were we more “needed” then?

But you know, once in awhile, a long while, someone will come along and ask you if what they heard is true. I ask, “Is what true?” They reply, “That you are gay.” Apparently it’s not obvious to everyone. I tell them, reluctantly, that it is, expecting yet another friendship to end. And to my surprise, they say, “That’s cool. It doesn’t matter to me.” How many times has that happened to me? Precisely three times in my entire life. Mike, Paul, and Mary, thank you for still remaining my friend. :-)

Others of course came to know me later in life. Now, do I hold my “scarlet letter” proudly on my chest for all to see? Do I wear being gay as some kind of badge of honor or courage? No. But I do tell potential friends sooner than later that I’m gay if they haven’t figured it out already. It’s a matter of practicality really. You see, if they have too much baggage to accept me for what I am, I have too much baggage to deal with their baggage.

In real life, I am rarely as outspoken to friends as I am in this blog. Why? The short answer is, I have little to lose by sharing what I feel and think at the most personal level with you, because I don’t know you. I have nothing to lose by spilling my guts to you and telling you how I really feel inside.

That has recently changed. I’ve come to understand that quite a few who read this blog do in fact know me in real life. That means, I see them on a personal basis, and many of them have been to my home for dinner or drinks.

It’s a strange feeling. It exposes me in very awkward ways. We had dinner with one person a few weeks ago. She mentioned that she was a reader of the blog. As a writer, I am curious how it effects people. She said that it made her “sad” that I have many of the feelings I have. I believe it was more complex than that, but when I heard the word “sad”, my mind focused and fixed itself solely on that one word. I asked Kent later, “Am I sad?” What a strange question, looking back on it.

Others cheer me on and marvel at how I can expose so much of myself to the world. I don’t know the answer to that today. It was easier when I was anonymous to people. I didn’t feel as though I was exposing that much of myself. But now, it’s strange and I find myself sometimes guarding what I write and making my writing less caustic or raw. But, then it’s not real, and I’m playing it safe.

I remember a scene in Mission Impossible II, when Ethan finally meets Max (who turns out to be female, her name is Maxine). He tells Max, “I assume your name is Maxine?” She replies to him, “My dear boy, in my line of work (being a spy) I don’t have to tell you how comforting anonymity can be.” It’s the same way for me.

Life is to be felt. That is what I do with my life, and I do it as intensely as Dimitri Shostakovich expressed his rage and love of life through his music. If you don’t feel life through good and bad, gain and loss, why bother? If people who know me in real life read this, their burden is to accept or reject me for my beliefs. That is not my burden at this stage in my life. People who are my real friends who really understand me, will understand this.

This is one reason I no long perform music. I am passionate about it. I felt as though I was a medium for it. I would practice six measures of a sonata a whole week. Just six measures. Is that obsession, or seeking a truth? In the end, I felt as though the truth came out, and usually very dramatically. One conductor (which will remain nameless) who’s orchestra I was soloing with, said to me, “You are difficult to perform with because of the intensity of your concentration, whether you are playing something ‘light’ such as Bach, or something ‘heavy’, such as Wagner.” I thought it was a nonsensical argument. Surely Bach demands that the phrasing and placement of emphasis to be extremely important. There is nothing “light” about that. It is right or it is wrong. And if he cared enough to compose it, I should at least care enough about it to perform it with my entire soul and being. This is why I loved playing from the manuscript. It was from the composer to me, without interpretation from some publisher. People used to tell me that they envied me for being able to play with such passion. It was different for me. One of the reasons I stopped playing was because I felt like it was drawing the life out of me. I gave it everything, and it took everything. When I was playing, it was just me and the music. My sense of surroundings were gone. I didn’t know if I was in a practice room, or in front of people performing in a concert hall. It was just the music. And afterward, I was emotionally drained.

Blogging has become somewhat the same for me. At least, now you know why I’m so intense. It seems that I’ve somehow managed to bring the intensity of music into this blog. Of course, instead of some master composer, you are stuck with me.

These were some of my thoughts over Thanksgiving. I’m thankful for the friends I have who understand me and still want me for a friend. I’m thankful to have known Brennan and Sasha. I’m thankful that some higher power has brought Maxwell and Mimi into our lives. I’m really thankful that Kent is my life and my soul mate.

I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving!