Brief Notes on a Gay Death
Instead of raging, I've taken to aging.
St. Patrick’s Day!
I love St. Patrick’s Day. It’s not quite the bonkers level of Groundhog’s Day, but it’s close (especially when you see the party in Chicago).
This month, I’ve shifted into a slower gear after the travel in January and February. I did go to the AWP writer conference earlier this month. I did 0 networking and ate a lot of Dunkin Donuts, so it was definitely an important trip. It was veeeerryyy fun to hang out with my college bestie, Mary, and talk books for three days, though.
I have also been submitting a lot of my writing to magazines and publications. After a month of sending stuff out, the rejections are finally rolling in. It’s honestly nice to see proof of life. No bites yet, but we’ll see how the 20 other magazines respond to stories about a drunk grad student and a man who keeps a stuffed version of his boyfriend in his spare bedroom.
I also have confirmation that my next novel manuscript will be edited BY THIS WEEKEND. So after that, I’ll be working on edits and fielding even more rejections from literary agents. If you know of a literary agent who wants to reject something, put us in touch!
This month in longer blog, I talk about aging. Tl;dr St. Patrick’s Day taught me that I have slowed down. And, per the title, in gay world I’ve been dead since 28, so, in some ways, every day now is a kind of celebration.
My Creative Stuff
No FOMO Any Mo
Quickie: Getting old is actually awesome.
This past weekend we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day in Chicago. If you’ve never been, it’s a huge, chaotic mess—and so much fun. Emilio and I went down to the river for a quick look to see it green, then headed north to meet some friends.
It was somewhere after we went north, and I was standing in the middle of a soup of people who were all yelling at each other, while I was huddled in endless lines waiting for years to get a single vodka soda, that I looked around and thought, “Huh. I’m really old now.”
In a previous decade, I would have been celebrating for several hours, and I wouldn’t have been phased by the clambering sea of partygoers in green. I may have even snuck in my own flask of booze to avoid lines.
But, at that moment in time, I was just kind of grumpy.
We eventually migrated to a bar with less people and got a table so we could talk about, you know, old man things, so it all worked out, but since that night, I’ve been thinking about how I have aged since I turned 40, and most of it’s been really good.
Some thoughts on the good, the bad, and the ugly:
FOMO Fades (Good!)
I used to want to be out and about all the time, but that’s not a thing anymore. Even on a Friday night when I have nothing to do, I’ll be thinking about all the awesome shows I could stream, or the book I could finish. Then, delight of delights, the Saturday I can enjoy not hungover. Even if someone does text, if they want to meet after 6 pm, they may as well have asked me to climb Mount Everest. Absolutely not. WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!
Et Tu Nose Hair (Ugly!)
I fully do not understand why my body’s hair is on a mission to betray me. Ear and nose hairs really think it’s their time to shine now that I’ve hit middle age. WHY?! My top hair is hitting its sunset era, but nose is now in its prime. I groom my ears weekly now. I NEVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT THEM BEFORE.
This is not even to mention single shoulder hair that is vying for the spotlight, or the grays that shine in my sparse facial hair.
If I have one piece advice for young men today now that I’m in my 40s it’s that YOUR NOSE WILL BETRAY YOU.
The Pains (Bad!)
Nose and muscles are aligned in an axis of evil against the aging male body.
Stuff just hurts now.
Things I have done 100,000 times previously will now suddenly causing popping and pain for no reason.
Sleeping slightly differently? Hello, week of neck pain!
My favorite new thing is my heel. It just hurts? Sometimes when I get up, I hobble for about twenty seconds because heel forgot it’s job.
I’m also finally getting over a mid-back shoulder situation that I still don’t fully understand. What I do understand is that I’m now a roller guy at the gym, you know, the dude who has to flounder on the floor for a solid ten minutes before getting up and—sigh—stretching even more because EVERYTHING HURTS.
Shame Levels Are Hitting 0 (Good!)
A few months ago, I was bowling in my league, and I did a full faceplant on the lane. Tl;dr, my shoulder hurt (see previous subsection), so I babied the throw, hesitated, and ended up falling on my face.
When I got up… I didn’t care. I was like, “Oh, I fell. Should probably get this shoulder checked out.”
A guy on the other team was way more embarrassed about it than I was.
He was like, “Are you okaaaaay?” *looks around to see if anyone noticed he was bowling with the face-planting buffoon*
“Yeah,” I said. “Oops!”
Again, in a past life, I would have thought about that episode for weeks. I may have even skipped bowling the next week to recover and give people time to forget.
My 40-year-old self, though, was more flabbergasted at the extent of my not caring. I REALLY didn’t care. I need to go back in time and tell my anxiety-ridden teenage self that it truly does get better.
I’m So Tired All the Time (Bad!)
I cannot even imagine how my friends with kids do it. I am always tired. Like always. If I sleep too little? Tired. Sleep too much? Tired. It’s cloudy? Tired.
On my birthday, I did discover a remedy. I got a free Starbucks drink, so I ordered a peppermint mocha with three espresso shots. Was not tired that day! Also moved at the speed of a hummingbird! Should I just mainline espresso between 2-2:15 pm every afternoon to function? Maybe.
Also, being my age and gender, I get served testosterone replacement ads almost 24-7. For a while, I was like “Maybe that’s it? Allegedly I’ll feel 20 again!” I asked my doctor, and he did not agree. He also wasn’t into my espresso theory. (These young doctors! Just give me the jab! Or the java!)
When I was commuting, it got so bad, I’d basically enter a soft sleepy coma on the train home.
If anyone has any tips on not being tired, 24-7 holler at your boy. Taking recommendations on all drugs that are legal.
Fearless Wisdom (Good!)
Along with the whole shame and FOMO thing, there is legit something awesome about having half a life of experience behind you. You’ve seen some shiz. Enough to be able to laugh at almost anything.
Part of the reason I had the courage to pursue my own business this year is because, you know, nothing really matters. I had cash saved, so I could survive, and I’ve learned that, to quote this awesome lady in a learning seminar: “Failure isn’t final”.
Also, like, what is success? After years watching other people have it, then crash and burn, do I even want to be successful?
Look at the corporate ladder. I climbed it (or like tried)—I did great work, got ignored for promotions, and made less than my inexperienced colleagues. The friends I have who did shoot up the ladder are running into the Peter Principle, or kind of hate their jobs.
In tech, CEOs are firing capable, loyal employees to have money to pay for the AI slop bots that can’t do the work.
It’s sad. Don’t get me wrong. But also hilarious? What timeline are we in?
All that is to say that I learned that the widely-held, societal definitions of success don’t work for me. So now I have some spare cash and some ideas, and I’m going to try to write a new one. And it won’t work for anyone but me, but for a chill dude who can faceplant on a bowling alley, that’s totally cool, man.
All that’s to say that getting older is kind of awesome—less hangovers, more bowling, triple espresso drinks, and way less FOMO.
And, of course, not everyone even gets the chance to get old. Maybe I’m just tired because I’ve had such a good time?
…But I still won’t say no to the testosterone.
Conclusion
This song, you guys. THIS SONG. I didn’t really like “Ordinary” but Alex caught me with this one. Please enjoy. Hopefully it gets you grooving into next month of April showers.