Skip to main content

The Age of Not Believing

In a few years, I'll be 40.

The preceding sentence was typed with no excitement. Perhaps some slight gratitude of living into another decade. But certainly no anticipation of the age. I was thinking about this t'other day, and how much the sensation of growing older now differs from how it used to feel then. As a kid, getting older was a crusade. It started with an idolization of the teenage years, and reached its zenith in pining to become a full-fledged, college-aged adult, doing all the things I saw teens and early-twenty-somethings doing in 1980s' movies.

Of course, those years came soon enough, and then ended almost just as quickly as they'd begun (or at least that's how it seems in hindsight). Overall, being a teenager and college-aged person were all right. Not ideal, but then how many of us get to enjoy the idealized version of life? I went to classes, got to drive a car, had sex for the first time, went to nightclubs, had my first beer, etc. etc. It wasn't quite like those '80s films, but close enough.

As a kid I would ponder what it would be like as a teenager. One weekend, in the 5th grade, I had a sleepover at a friend's house. There we were in the late '80s kitchen, debating whether to have cold chicken or cold pizza as a late-night snack, and in walked his older brother (a freshman in high school). I stopped and just stared at him. Here was coolness personified. True, I knew nothing about him aside from his age, that he was good looking and seemed to exude some confidence, but that was enough. He passed through the kitchen, said something like, "Hey, guys!" and was gone.

If only I could be that age!

Now, dear reader, it must be said that I haven't looked forward to growing older in something like 15 years. That is unlikely to change. I continue to be thankful for life, but that is probably part of the reason why growing older now holds little excitation. As Picard once said (paraphrasing here): "You realize that you have fewer days ahead than you do behind."  And, the older we get, the more correct he becomes.

Of course, the upside to no longer being anxious about getting older is that we learn to appreciate the here and now more than the there and then. We understand that tomorrow is not promised, and so to enjoy the current days, while we have them. It's a shame that much of my youth was wasted on not knowing this simple fact.


  1. Catching up on your blog. Good post! I can relate!!

  2. Thank you, Leslie! I really appreciate you taking the time to read the blog.

    I tweeted your "Intertextuality" post earlier this week. Loved it!


Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog


Ok, we're now three-fourths of the way through this year's calendar, so I thought I'd rank the thirty-eight 2017 movies I've seen so far.

Here they are....

1. A Quiet Passion
2. Baby Driver
3. Dunkirk
4. Get Out
5. Kedi
6. A Ghost Story
7. Wonder Woman
8. Columbus
9. Brad's Status
10. Marjorie Prime
11. Maudie
12. Logan
13. Spider-Man: Homecoming
14. Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2
15. Brigsby Bear
16. Atomic Blonde
17. The Big Sick
18. Split
19. Kong: Skull Island
20. It
21. Wind River
22. A Cure for Wellness
23. The Hitman's Bodyguard
24. Norman
25. Kingsman: The Golden Circle
26. Logan Lucky
27. Alien Covenant
28. Ghost In the Shell
29. War for the Planet of the Apes
30. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Men Tell No Tales
31. Life
32. Annabelle: Creation
33. Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets
34. My Cousin Rachel
35. Baywatch
36. The Bye Bye Man
37. mother!
38. It Comes at Night

It will be interesting to see what the last three months of the year brin…

If You Could Read My Mind

Dance clubs are a funny thing. They contain within their walls a life force and vibrancy sometimes unmatched anywhere else. When dusk settles and the lights come on, people will flood the dance floors to gyrate to music with hypnotic beats and songs about love, lust and fun at the disco. At gay bars, this sort of scenario usually increases ten-fold. It isn't for everyone, but for many it is a respite from the harsh realities of the real word. It is a place that isn't just a structure, but a sanctuary where folks -- minorities in their own communities -- can take shelter and unwind with abandon, at least for a few nighttime hours.
As someone who benefited greatly from such an aforementioned gay dance club, you can imagine my dismay at news of the closing of Chester Street Bar. In business for over three decades, gay-owned and operated, there was a time when C-Street (as it was known by most) was the only haven for those in the LGBT community, near and far, to enjoy themselves …


"Step out from the mask you stand behind Fearful lost and blind Time to take the time The pressure’s on you Hide away, hide away No tomorrow, just today"
- Brilliant, Ultravox
Today was National Coming Out Day, so of course it gives some pause for reflection on my own coming out story. It was in April 1993, my junior year of high school (go Chargers!). In the six years of writing this blog, I have alluded to how I came out, but never really delved into the intricacies of how it came about. What better day to do so than today?
My first (small) indications of homosexuality manifested in grade school. While in first grade, I thought a fifth grader looked cute. In fifth grade, I would stare, longingly, at a boy in class, until he caught me looking at him. There were some infatuations with boys in middle school, and a first sexual experience during freshman year of high school. Everything up to that point had been, for the most part, based in the physical realm. I liked the way certain…