Small Dick Energy
Oldster magazine interview, a hit and run, rental cars, lesbian visibility week, and "fidget butter"
Readers!
Isn’t Bob’s Big Boy the biggest dyke you’ve ever seen? He truly was one of the few sources of representation for me as a young queer. The amount of swagger needed to pull off these overalls is unreal. He exemplifies confidence. Anywho, Happy Lesbian Visibility Hamburger Waitress Week to all who celebrate.
I don’t have a parking spot at my apartment; and a few weeks ago, I went out at 6:40 a.m. to meet my friend Sarah for a walk and discovered my car and another had been hit by a driver in the night. The driver door couldn’t open and the impact drove the passenger side wheel wells into the curb.
This is the third time someone has crashed into my parked car, twice in Los Angeles and once in San Francisco. Some neighbors heard the impact at 3 am, came out and made the guy leave a note. I was grateful I could submit the info to my insurance. But needless to say my day was emotionally over at 6:40 am. The rest I spent with the hell of insurance calls and tow truck drivers and police reports. But I’m relieved they didn’t total my car which is a 2011 and the damage is fixable.
My car has been in the shop for two weeks. I thought I’d been too cheap when I signed up for my car insurance to include rental car coverage, but was happily surprised I was able to get a base model sedan, so I’m not without a car.
My friend Chris says my rental car has “small dick energy.” He’s not wrong, but also I’ve enjoyed driving a car that’s newer than mine with all its nice features. Just because a car has small dick energy doesn’t mean I have to.
Can I tell you about a book I read that I loved? It is one of those books that is so good it made me feel like I should stop writing and let the experts do it. Not even in a bitter way. Just in a tip my hat way. If you enjoyed Loved and Missed by Susie Boyt, this feels like it is of the same family and it contains a plot surprise that floored me! Did not see coming, and wondered if the writer knew it was coming or just discovered it the way one can when deep in their own writing.
Also my friend Nicole J. Georges has a new book out called Emotional Support Animals. At her book party everyone in attendance was given their own supplies to do a therapeutic drawing on the spot. It was pretty great.
The Mets have lost 12 games in a row. I am so angry at them. Like Cher “Snap Out of It” Moonstruck angry. For a brief moment, I thought I’d make today’s post an angry open letter to them, but I have no words except to quote a friend in my Mets’ text thread quoting his Mets Fan Father from childhood after a Mets loss. “I spent my evening watching losers.” For me, “I’ve spent the month of April watching losers.”
Speaking of Losers. I made this painting.
and this one…
and this one…
Another highlight this week was I got to do an interview for Oldster magazine. Thank you, Sari for the work you do providing a space for us oldsters! Sari dropped a link to my etsy shop and an artist hero bought one of my paintings! I only have smaller works in the shop, but am working to get everything on my website by summer.
Now, a note from our sponsors.
Thank you very much to everyone who supports my work. I’m leaving you with a poem for extra credit about the time my car was hit by a garbage truck.
TRASH NIGHT
I almost didn’t graduate high school
got arrested that spring
a young, angsty queer before that was cool
in 1989 I saw no future
here I am, half a century old
smoking one cigarette a day in the yard
I love to sit in the lawn chair
next to the garbage cans and mark time
there’s an older French man
who walks his dogs on the same trails I do
he moves with confidence, the arms
of his sweater draped around his neck
never sweating
I don’t know if he’s really French
but I call him The French Guy
and of course, he’s always smoking
smoking and hiking, never hacking
I wonder what his apartment looks like
if he smokes inside it, I want to be him
taking life by the face each day
kissing each cheek
it’s trash night again
I roll the garbage cans down the driveway
where did the week go
so grateful the garbage man keeps coming
to take trash away in his big green truck
in second grade we had to write a report
about what we wanted to be when we grew up
I said I wanted to be a garbage man
and drew a picture of my garbage truck
a big box with round wheels
I wrote, I’ll be so successful I’ll have a gold-plated garbage truck!
I’d do anything for that confidence now
Wednesdays are trash night and Thursdays are trash day
I visit the front window periodically like a friend
wait to see the lids of the garbage cans flipped back
then I go down the driveway and bring them up again
once when I went outside, running late for work
I couldn’t understand why the garbage man
was taking a picture of my car
as I got closer, he explained the arms of the garbage truck
picked up my car instead of the bin, smashed the whole back half
my friend dated a garbage man
he was hot, had a tattooed neck
I’ve always wanted to be hot like that
so when my garbage man apologized for destroying my car
I told him not to worry, just filled out the insurance papers
and when I told my wife she kept saying
what, what, how the fuck did that happen?
I said, I don’t know, he felt bad and finally she said
stop taking the garbage man’s side!
but how could I when my whole life I’ve wanted to be him
I'm reading Flesh on your rec. You are right, except that you should definitely keep writing.
I need to get that butter and squish it. RIGHT NOW.
I’m going to read this garbage man poem somewhere if it’s the last thing I do.