vrrrrroooooooommmmm

Posted on May 25, 2007 | Leave a comment

I am a professional pedestrian. At least that’s how I like to think of myself. When I took the leap and moved into San Francisco from the warmer side of the bay, I also got rid of my car. And, it really was a dream come true. I had always had a car because I had always lived in places where it was a necessity.

It’s been almost two years and I still don’t really miss it…at all. I mean, why would I? I save hundreds of dollars a month by simply using my two feet. And, if we (Jeff and I) need to, we can take Jeff’s car–Gladys. Gladys is a fine specimen approaching 20 years old. Sure, she might be missing several pieces of trim, have a taped on headlight, and smell strangely similar to a 90 year old–which I am convinced is her age if she were human–but, the truth is, Gladys is lucky to be alive. She has been wrecked and stolen (and returned) several times. And most importantly, she runs.

I wish I could say that any of my past cars fared as well. My first car was a 1981 Chevy Citation. Just prior to its demise, the only way to shift gears was to turn the car off–shift–then, turn the car back on. All while going down the road. My next car was a 1988 Ford Tempo. When it died it still had the bailing twine and wire delicately woven throughout the engine to hold it together. After that there was the 1992 Mercury Topaz. It lived a nice long life. However, after a series of unfortunate events involving the radiator and 110 degree Phoenix heat, I left it abandoned at a strip mall never to be seen again.

So, needless to say, I love not having a car! And now that I don’t drive very often, I have had time to perfect my “back seat” driving skills; which, I know are greatly appreciated. I also have grown acutely aware of others’ road rage. In particular, my friend Jaclyn. Jaclyn is the most respectful and caring person I know…until she gets behind the wheel. Frankly, she scares me. Which is another thing, now that I don’t really drive; I get scared riding in the passenger seat. I don’t know what has made me so skiddish.

Maybe it has something to do with almost becoming roadkill, while the ones driving the cars are screaming and honking at each other.

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Posted in Friends, Humor, My Life

All Plans are Subject to Change…

Posted on May 21, 2007 | Leave a comment

I’m fickle. This is really no surprise to anyone who knows me personally. I mean… I am really fickle. I am so fickle that even the most seemingly mundane decisions in life can present me with almost insurmountable choices.

Let’s just take this blog entry, for instance. What you wouldn’t know is that I went through about 5 different titles, 10 different moods, and who knows how many categories before deciding on what you are reading. The only thing certain was that I am listening to ABBA currently. But that was easy, I just had to check Itunes.

My friend Jaclyn has put up with years of hearing me say: “Sure, I’ll go to the store with you…but, remember, all plans are subject to change until further notice!” Now, I realize that she was just wanting me to come to the grocery store with her; but, you know, things can change. What if I decide that I don’t want to go to the store–halfway to the store? Then what? I should just let her know in advance that I might change my mind and she would have to bring me back home. I’m just trying to be polite.

And, I have always been this way. When I was in third grade, we were given the assignment of writing a letter to Santa Claus. I was still sitting at my desk when it was time for recess. All I had written was, “Dear Santa, I want…” What was I supposed to write next? This was a life-altering decision. Did I want that old desk or the blue typewriter?

(please refer to my previous blog entry, “I’m Special”, for an explanation of why a third grader would want either.)

I’m not sure why I am so tormented by making decisions. I am jealous of those people who can say that they know what they want and then they go for it. But, that is not the way I am wired. I will probably spend my whole life trying to decide if I want Italian food for dinner or possibly Japanese…you know, Thai kind of sounds good…

p.s. I got the old desk for Christmas. But, luckily, the blue typewriter arrived for my birthday two months later.

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Posted in Humor, My Life, The Early Years

I’m Special

Posted on May 15, 2007 | 1 comment

I was a weird kid. Odd. I fully admit it. I didn’t fully grow out of it–I do still have some strange tendancies. Like, having to turn the lights in my place on and back off again just to make sure that I turned them off in the first place. And, I have become really good at hiding my tendancies. My boyfriend Jeff is really grateful for this, I’m sure. However, for the sake of maintaining some dignity, I’ll refrain from fully disclosing too many of my adult “tics” right now.

But, back to my childhood, it was scary enough. Like the time at church camp when I decided to see how far I could pull my pants down before someone noticed. (This was long before it was en vogue to wear one’s pants around their knees.) Much to the horror of several other kids playing 4-square, I made it to about mid-thigh.

I guess I should be thankful that my parents simply allowed me to be… special. I think that’s how my mom put it. Special. I love that word. Special. It is just about the nicest way to say that someone has some serious issues that might require medication someday. “Don’t mind Tyler . . . he’s . . . special.” Actually, I don’t think my mom actually even said that to anyone. She just said it to me. And, well, it made me feel . . . special. Which is exactly how a kid should feel.

And she put up with a lot of my “specialness” because I loved to perform. Not necessarily for a crowd or for family members, which I was asked to on many occasions. I loved to perform for myself. So, I created these routines in the “privacy” of our front yard. It’s amazing how oblivious I was as a kid. I wish I still had a little of that cluelessness.

I would sometimes take my clarinet out front and create marching band routines. Sometimes–and I’m sure this made everyone cringe–I would take a broomstick with fabric tied to the end and create routines. I loved the high school drill team–sequins, flags and all. And, that’s where I was . . . in my head.

During the cold Iowa winter months, I would take my routines to the basement. The great thing about this was that I could strap on my roller-skates and few extra pieces of flare, maybe a skirt, and perform away. The down side was the ceiling. I had a bad habit of accidentally breaking out the light bulbs during the height of my drill team routines. I was never punished for any of this . . . and compared to other stories I hear from gay people. I was extremely fortunate.

Truly the only surprise here is that anyone in my family was surprised to find out that I was gay! My mother passed away in 1998 after a battle with cancer and multiple other health problems. I never told her that I was gay, which I do regret. But, all that matters is that I know she thought I was special. And that’s how she paved the way for me to really accept me for who I am.

Thanks mom!

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Posted in Family, Gay, Humor, My Life, The Early Years

Crowd Control

Posted on May 14, 2007 | Leave a comment

I know a thing or two about crowds. I know this is saying a lot; considering that I grew up in Pleasantville, Iowa…population 1,500. But you see, I work for an airline. Anyone who has ever flown on my airline knows that I should know a thing or two about crowds. It’s an airline for the masses. And our philosophy is that everyone should be able to fly. Crowds and all.

I don’t know that I agree. I know that my airline does not always have the least expensive tickets out there. It’s just that 95% of the time we have the least expensive tickets. This is wonderful for the flying public. Or is it? Just because most people can afford to fly does not mean that most people should fly.

Case in point: about a month ago I had this lady who stood at the door to the plane and held up the line while she went through her pre-boarding ritual…

(pause here. It is somewhat “normal” for people to perform their own “safety” rituals prior to stepping on the plane. i.e.–Kissing the outside of the plane, crossing themselves & kissing the outside of the plane, knocking on the outside of the plane & then kissing it, doing a visual inspection of the doorway & then kissing the outside of the plane. The dirtiest part of the plane is not the floor, it’s actually the outside of the plane right by the door. Look at it. It’s usually covered in grease and lipstick. Get the picture? end pause)

…however, her ritual was to stand at the door and tap her foot. It really was more like she was moving her whole foot up and down. I tried to get her to move forward. But, it wasn’t going to happen until she had finished exorcising the evil from the plane with her foot. Finally, she moved forward in her zombie-like state. She finally ended up standing in the aisle at row 8. I look back at the other stewardess (I like the glamour of that title). She was re-performing her ritual. Once we were able to get her into a row, she refused to sit–just standing in front of her middle seat tappin’ her “happy feet” away.

The short of this long story is that she ended up being asked to get off of the plane because she was disturbing everyone.

I talked to a stewardess friend several weeks later. He started to relay this same story. I couldn’t believe it. After the lady had been removed from my flight, she had been “kicked” off of several flights, and finally ended up on my friend’s flight. She proceeded to “exorcise” her “rites” all the way across the country.

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Posted in Flight Attendant, Humor

My Furny Varentime

Posted on May 8, 2007 | Leave a comment

Not too long ago I was walking down the street and just happened to pass this new Siberian jewelry store having its grand opening weekend. The store itself is probably about 10 feet by 10 feet. Tiny. And, some of the most gaudy jewelry you’ll ever see. It fits perfect in the Castro.

This, however, wasn’t the interesting part of the store. You see, in honor of their grand opening, the Siberian Jewelry Store of the Castro placed a lady in the doorway with a portable Casio keyboard. She was plunking out the tunes while singing the standards in a fairly thick Chinese accent.

Ok, so I should probably take minute to explain that I am just relaying what I saw here. My poor attempt to recreate the scene that she was causing is purely for “informational” purposes. I am not blatantly trying to be racist.

Here’s pretty close to how it went…

“My furny varentime
Sweet colmic varentime
You make me smire wit my healt
Youl rooks all raughabur
Unphotoglaphabur
Yet youl my favoulite wolk of alt…”

I probably should be ashamed to admit that I laughed for probably at least the next 3 blocks. And I wasn’t alone! Everyone who walked by and saw her could not help themselves. She was so sincere in her singing. Bless her heart. The combination of the gaudy jewelery, cheap electronic keyboard, and Chinese accent was too much for anyone to handle.

I don’t know–maybe you just had to be there…

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Posted in Humor