It's cool and cloudy now but I'm sure that as soon as I get my butt into my seat, the sun will come out, the breeze will die and I will fry. But, I'll fry watching baseball so, again, how bad can it be?
This morning, my swim buddy, Matt told me that he'll be gone next week. On a birthday trip. He's turning 40. I asked him where he was going and his reply included '... my boyfriend has a business trip to Boise so I'm going, too.'
I live in Seattle. I'm guessing our gay population is well above the 10% range. And it's 2019 so information like that, in a casual exchange is nothing even usual except it struck me with how really nice that is. It's like a coming out in passing. Or a non-coming out because whothefuckcares and itdoesnotmatteronebit.
I remember in the 70's when my friend, Jon told me he was gay by showing me 'our bedroom' when he gave me a tour of his and Page's apartment. About that time, my friend, Bernard, never did say anything out loud but asked that I be his friend's 'date' in case his family was there when we visited him in the hospital. He died soon thereafter from what we later found out was AIDS. My work friend Steven came out to me when our weird co-worker, Ming, accused him of coming on to her. Just yesterday I was watching a British murder mystery that really hinged on the victim's not reporting when he was first attacked for fear of people finding out he was gay.
As I swam this, I remembered all this with gratitude that all the Matts - at least here in Seattle - can be just regular people with regular lives in a nobigdeal way.
But 40! Wow. He looks 30. And I love that he has someone special in his life.
And speaking of 40, my brother's oldest is turning 40 this week. My brother sent me a copy of an email he sent his birthday son. It's basically the tale of what 40 years ago this week looked like to him - a kid in New York City about to become a father for the first time. Contractions first hit over breakfast one morning and their doctor suggested they split a beer and wait to see if it was real or braxton hicks. Split a beer for breakfast. They did. 40 years. Wow. But, also a very cool birthday present, I think.
Ok, time to gather my baseball gear and get it ready.