Send me a kiss

Palm Springs High School Band

Nice Hair. Nice Car.

Mr. Dimples

Armistead Maupin greets fans at signing

Please! Let me sign your book.

Woke up 4-ish. I couldn’t think of a friend’s name, someone I haven’t seen in a long time, but who was part of the “group” a while ago. I’m thinking Ron, Ronnie, Spanish last name, why can’t I think of this? Ronnie is close but it’s not right. Is this an indication of Alzheimer’s or some other mental thing?
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I toss, turn. Alarm will ring soon enough. (I’m an early riser, but not this early…). Should I take out the old address book and look, I’m sure his name is there somewhere. No, wait. See if there’s more sleep coming. There isn’t. I check Grindr. Just to see who has a green light at 4:50 a.m. Interesting. The board is all lit up.

Yesterday was, in fact, Gay Pride Day, so it’s not surprising. Everybody is in their 20s and 30s. Not me. I turn it off.

Now it’s getting light out. I get up, find the old address book. I find his name, it was Rodney. Rod. So I wasn’t so far off. Maybe I’m not self-destructing. Not yet.

I dress and do my walk along the wash. The girl at Starbucks fills up my Copco coffee cup. I know I will feel human in a few minutes.

What an intense couple of weeks… we had your Halloween, your election, Gay Pride – next week is Leather Pride. And speaking of leather pride, in the photo below you will see I was wearing a leather armband on my right wrist. For me, this is “jewelry.” I was informed by a man at this signing at the Gay Pride fair that in fact it meant that I was advertising myself as a submissive. Um, OK, hmm. Don’t know. Maybe, probably not, at least today not. How can I not know this after 30 years of Gay Pride events? Will I have to turn in my card? Is there a manual for me to “bone” up on?

Mondays are harder when there is no job, or an underemployed type of job. My heart goes out today to all of those who understand this.