What does go on in the mind of a 67-year-old American gay man? Read on for dear diary excerpts and fun asides. (Not always a downer, though I do use the diary to work out problems, probably like most people do!) (It’s the week of January 1, though I include the last part of December here.)

Tuesday, December 20

I’m pleased the LA Times printed my contribution to the memorials for P-22. Honestly have to say I will feel safer hiking in Griffith now and feel more at ease to go off the paved roads, which I’ve consciously been sticking to for the last decade or so. 

There are some rocky heights (like, for instance, top of the Bronson trail) that I like but haven’t been to in really a long time, but which now would seem safer without a mountain lion in the park. 

Wednesday, December 21

Some days are harder than others to get started. This is one of those mornings. 

It’s the anniversary of Dad’s death four years ago. Maybe that’s why, though I don’t feel like it’s keeping me from writing, maybe that’s the reason I didn’t sleep so well? And the result of that is foggy brain that resists working. 

Thursday, December 22

I haven’t decorated at all for Xmas yet. I did take the box of trimmings out of the closet and set it on the floor. I may have even opened it up, but I didn’t take anything out. Thinking I might do that this afternoon – it’s three days till Christmas, and I’d keep up lights/ornaments until January 2, then immediately put all that crap away. I think the holiday season goes on too long. I’d like a machine where I could be transported from the evening of Thankgiving to the morning of January 2 each year, and not have to experience the end of November and the entire month of December—that is, unless I was in a place where summer occurs in that month, say Rio de Janeiro or Australia. On a gay beach. Mexico’s Pacific Coast also qualifies. 

Friday, December 23

There’s not much motivation this morning. December 23, palpable closeness to the actual dates of real holidays. I’ve had the audacity to have thoughts of taking the entire next week off, conveniently as the holidays fall into the actual week structure more than usual with Christmas and New Year’s both falling on Sundays. 

So you already pretty much know that out in the real world NOTHING will get done next week Monday through Friday and EVERYONE will be on vacation or holiday and so WHAT IS THE POINT in TRYING? And why not just rest up, look back and evaluate the year, plan for the next, and so on?

Thursday, January 5, 2023

Which I don’t want to do. I had a terrible time sleeping last night. I’m pretty sure I had a reaction to the vaccines I got yesterday – the pneumonia vaccine and the shingles vaccine (which was only the first of two). The reaction was body aches plus headache, as well as soreness on both shoulders. 

I woke up in the middle of the night, worried about that, and about mortality, really. Worried about my fluctuating blood pressure numbers, other things.

Like the old saying, doesn’t help at all to borrow trouble. And indeed, we are all mortal. If I live 20 more years, I’d be almost 88. If I lived 25 more years, I’d be almost 93, as old as Aunt Joan when she died. Let’s see, 25 years ago was 1998, the year I moved to San Francisco and started working at Dolby. That, to me, seems like yesterday! It doesn’t really seem that much of any time has passed since then.

That’s kind of scary. Really – should I live to be 92 going on 93, will I look back at 67 going on 68 as if it was yesterday? Probably. 

My writing: Maybe I’ve forgotten how. It all just seems so awkward and bad. I guess that’s why there’s this thing called Editing. 

Friday, January 6, 2023

I slept great last night. So great, in fact, that my Fitbit score is 85 – equal to the highest I’ve ever received (I’ve received this score several times) but the time I spend asleep (according to the Fitbit) is 7 hours 15 minutes, which is nothing short of miraculous.

And that’s Dear Diary (week of January 1) for this time.