National Coming Out Day

So today was National Coming Out Day.  I hope lots of folks did and are the happier for it, as am I. And while it's all well and good that we have an official "Coming Out Day," for many of us, coming out isn't or wasn't a one day deal. 

For Uncle P, the process started with a few High School Theatre girl friends, claiming then (and through much of college) that I was Bisexual, knowing full well that wasn't true in the least. Of course, Uncle P came of age at the beginning of the AIDS crisis, adding additional stigma to being a young gay man. And while all through my 20's and early 30's I had my fun, it wasn't until I went into therapy that I was able to not just come out to myself, but to to my immediate family. I was going to tell my mother on "Come Out with Ellen" day, but chose to do so a week before, steeling myself with a drink or three, first. She cried, not because I was gay, but because I had been afraid to tell her. Eventually, I started expressing to her which men I found attractive on the TV shows we both watched and we would have small conversations about why and whether or not we found the same guys attractive. She loved my long ago ex, Ric and encouraged me to find someone right up until she went into the hospital for the last time. 

I told my sister that same year, on the last night of my once-annual October trip to Florida. She was neither shocked nor upset, though embarrassed at having used the "F" word, earlier in the day (something that almost stopped me from telling her). To this day, she continues to not only be my BFF (I love you K & Q, but you know...) and a staunch supporter of LGBT rights, including Marriage Equality. I feel so lucky to have her on my side, especially given the stories we all know about families abandoning their LGBT members. And while there are still a few elderly family members (my Aunt and Mom's Aunt and Uncle, among them) who don't know - and as far as I am concerned, don't need to know - most of my cousins and few aunts and uncles know. And that's fine. They are all mostly liberal and accepting. And if not, the hell with them. I have reached the age where I truly don't give a rat's ass what you think about me.

For me, coming out was a long, drawn-out process which took many years. As I am sure it was and will continue to be for many gay people. But as more and more of us make ourselves visible, it will be easier and easier for those who come after us. Eventually (hopefully), 'coming out' won't be something anyone needs to worry about. Am I too optimistic about a Roddenberryesque Utopia where the whole word gets it? How  I would love a peek into the future a hundred or so years from now. I can only hope the smart folks win.

In celebration of Coming Out, here's the trailer for my favorite gay rom-com and sweet coming out story, Big Eden:

And here's a very affirming music video about Coming Out:



Own yourself. Love yourself. Be yourself!

Sending you love and support! Come out, come out, whoever you are! Know that there are many people who love and support you! I'm here if you need an ear.

More, anon.
Prospero

Az én családom

A húgom

While my mother's heritage was German, Scottish and Welsh, as kids my sister and spent much more time with Dad's decidedly Hungarian side of the family and primarily identify our cultural heritage as Hungarian. And therein lies the title of tonight's post which translates into English as "My family." 

My concept of family and the dynamics within my a family have changed a lot in the past seven months. A húgom (my sister) and the BIL have been here all this weekend, primarily to help me with work on my house. They spent all day Thursday working on installing my new washer; installing new locks on the downstairs doors; repairing my toilet and cleaning out tons of our mother's hoarded junk (Barb found 5 separate gallon jugs of windshield washer fluid in my shed and on my porch, which we assume Mom must have smuggled home from the car dealer where she worked). I came home from work Thursday night to be overwhelmed by what they had accomplished.

Today, the three of us went visit our decidedly Hungarian Auntie, who took us to lunch. Auntie, who will be 78 this September, is wracked by severe arthritis in her hips, knees and ankles, reducing her to basically a shut-in, so it was good to see her getting out of her condo, though I don't imagine she'll be with us much longer, either. Yes, that makes me sad. But it also again reminds me that we need to make the most of the time we have with the people we love.

I think a lot of my friends and family thought I was going to really fall apart when Mom passed away. I knew I wouldn't. Yes, I'm still in mourning, but I'm happy to prove to them that I am much stronger than they thought. I also am happy to acknowledge that most of the credit for my current strength goes to their love and support as part of my chosen family over many years. 

Of course, having a sibling who is also a best friend (and who understands you like no one ever can - we had a moment in Home Depot today that no one else would ever get) who is married to an awesome human being I am proud to call Brother, helps. And while I am not fond of the religious connotations such a phrase might invoke, I can only hope that all of you are as 'blessed' to have such an amazing natural and chosen family as Uncle P does, however dysfunctional it may be.

Nope, not that dysfunctional! Whew!

More, anon.
Prospero

Snow Day

Winter Storm Janus: Punishment for Christieism

I blame NJ Governor Chris Christie for Winter Storm Janus and the subsequent traffic snarl it caused yesterday afternoon, everywhere. If the fundies can blame me, then I get to blame some one, too. In truth though, the germ of the idea for this post came out of a Facebook status I posted last night, so forgive me if I'm repeating part of this. 

We all knew the storm was coming and the first tiny flakes started to fall yesterday morning just as I reached the last traffic-lighted intersection before arriving at the Day Job. At 11:00 I took my morning smoke break (yes, I know) and notice the plant across the way is closing, as cars begin to make a mass exodus from the lot. I came back to my desk to find an email from HR announcing we were closing at 1:00 (No lunch breaks, please). All well and good. The snow is light and easy to get off my car and I'm on my way by 1:12. It wouldn't be until 1:49 that I even got out of the town where the Day Job is located! The ride that normally takes 20 to 25 minutes and can sometimes take 40 to 50  minutes in bad weather, actually took me well over ninety minutes. And all because every other company along the I95 corridor closed at the same time and sent out millions of vehicles out onto snow-covered roads with hampered visibility. When I finally got home, after bitching about the weather and the traffic and the need to shovel, I sort gave in and resigned myself that this was happening and at least I'd gotten out early and would get a Snow Day out of it (an unusually high 2.5 this season). Which got me thinking about how I went from loving Snow Days as a kid to hating them as an adult. 

When Uncle P and his sister were kids, our Mom loved Snow Days, because it meant we got to stay home and she could play with us. We'd bundle up to go out and play in the snow; come in to warm up and dry out and have PB&Js and Campbell's Chicken Noodle soup and then go out for a another hour, until our faces were red and our noses runny. Then it was inside again where warm towels from the dryer waited for us wrap up in while leaning against the boiler's hot brick chimney. Then came hot cocoa and some sort of activity at the kitchen table. Colorforms; Shrinkey-Dinks; Spirograph; paint-by-numbers; coloring books and crayons; watercolors... always something creative to keep us busy until it was time for her to start making dinner in time for Dad to get home. 

Today, was not at all that kind of Snow Day. Sis's Sister-in-Law's son (say that three times, fast), who I've just started to get know and now refer to as my "Nephew-in-Law," came and shoveled me out today, and when I went to get money to pay him, he skipped. I texted him "No fair!" and he texted back "You're family!" Of course, when he helped me this past Monday to put the new battery in the car I'm trying to sell, I stuck a twenty in his pocket when his hands were busy and he had no choice. I'm going to make him some cookies or brownies or something. He's a good kid and I am appreciate my BIL and his family's (especially his sister and her son) kindness more and more, all the time. So, while I could have done any number of things today, including cleaning; painting; inventorying and purging the chest freezer (among others), I instead hibernated until after 10:30 and then vegged out on a "Tattoo Nightmares" marathon on Spike. And while I have 4 episodes of "Dracula" on my DVR, I'm not sure if I'm really willing to continue with the slow-moving plot that seems to have bogged it down the last few episodes I did see. 

So after dinner (the last of the chicken and hush puppies from Sunday) it was off to Netflix and the film version of a story I first read online: John Dies at the End. David Wong's online novel about time-travel; metaphysics; alternate universes; demons; mystical drugs and artificial intelligence (among other things) is transformed into a just-as-weird film by co-writer, director Don Coscarelli, creator of the equally weird Phantasm series. But this is also Coscarelli's homage to other genre directors with nods to Carpenter; Cronenberg and Raimi as told by Lovecraft. Produced by and co-starring Paul Giamatti, Coscarelli and David Wong worked on a script that both managed to connect some of the missing dots in Wong's novella, while maintaining its gonzo sensibilities. Add cuties Chase Williamson and Rob Mayes as leads Dave and John; genre fave Clancy Brown as a charismatic preacher/exorcist (he's so powerful, he can expel a demon over the phone); the often-used but rarely seen Doug Jones (Pan's Labyrinth; Hellboy); a cameo from Angus Scrimm (Phantasm's 'Tall Man') and loads of physical gross-outs and FX (plus an animated sequence that is both gross and hilarious) and you end up with a strange and often hilarious horror movie with two characters who deserve a sequel. *** (Three Out of Four Stars).

So, that was my Snow Day - some nostalgia; sleeping in; bad tattoos and a fun, weird horror movie I've been wanting to see that turned out to be actually pretty good. I may be too old for sledding and snow-forts, but you're never too old to appreciate a lazy day and then ramble on about it like anyone else really cares. 

Did you have a Snow Day today? What did you do or not do, today?

More, anon.
Prospero