It’s August, the peak of my Hot Boy Summer. Last summer, I went on an Italian adventure that was accompanied by a Fool’s errand. This hot and sticky summer has been all about a return to Self and a restoration of clarity and balance in my life. Virgos need both to be happy, so this is a welcome change indeed.
A year ago today, I was flying back from Italy after a ten-day vacation where I introduced my daughter to cousins, aunts, and an uncle I hadn’t seen in over ten years. Having M. meet my Italian family and experience one of my favorite places on earth with me was incredibly special. I showed her a part of myself and my personal history that I don’t share with many people. This visit also brought my past and present together in a way that felt as close to time-travel as I’m ever going to get. Eating dinner together in Piazza Mercato, where I nagged my mother to buy me toys as a kid, holding hands as we walked through cobblestone alleys that I’d traversed alone so many times before, watching her enjoy a real gelato, the kind I got addicted to in the same way at her age, taking M.’s picture in front of my Nonna’s apartment building, on the same street where my cousins and I played soccer as kids, and where, during the summer of ’84, I was chased by the jealous boyfriend of a girl who’d given me my first French kiss during my very first Hot Boy Summer five years earlier. I learned later that she’d told him I was back for the summer and this had set him off. I had no clue about this of course, so his sudden arrival on a Vespa in the middle of one of our soccer games was quite unexpected.
Ermanno (I still remember his name) and his two-friend posse were older and bigger than me, and they came very close to kicking my ass. Even back then, I was a lover, not a fighter. But one of the apartment-dwelling old ladies who never missed a thing that happened on that street called the cops the second she sensed trouble, and everyone scattered when they arrived a few minutes later (a miraculous response time if you know Italy). My paramour (Rosanna) was livid about what happened, and she broke up with Ermanno on the spot. For my part, I managed to escape this kerfuffle with a single bitchslap to the back of my head from one of his friends, before proceeding to enjoy my second Hot Boy Summer Italian-style with Rosanna.
Totally worth it.
I digress.
It felt wonderful to introduce M. to Italy and show her a town that’s a sanctuary and second home to me. It was truly special, and I’ll never forget it. I hope she won’t either. But like most things, this trip wasn’t all strawberries and ice cream. On this same visit, I foolishly re-immersed myself in a delusion that would exact a miserable price a few months later. But this Fool’s errand and its aftermath became a catalyst for change and some of the insights that I’m acquiring now, so I suppose my self-own was the cost of doing business. Nothing in life is free, bitches. No pain, no gain.
With this prelude, and as I approach my 56th birthday (man, how the fuck did I get so old? I don’t feel 56, damn it!), it’s gratifying to consider how much has changed in my life in just one year, how much I’ve endured and how my mindset, choices, and outlook on life have evolved for the better.
Let’s dig into it.
1. I keep talking about this, but I haven’t felt this kind of mental and emotional clarity in a very long time. Despite my best efforts, it appears that I’m finally learning the fine art of emotional regulation, something that most people are taught in childhood, but which I definitely wasn’t. I’m learning why I get triggered sometimes, what the real source of this trigger is, and why I sometimes respond disproportionately to the actual situation. It’s not always easy to connect an involuntary physical reaction–the immediate pumping of adrenaline and accompanying anger, resentment, or hurt–to an unconscious belief or past experience, rather than what’s right in front of me, and then pause before I react. So I don’t always succeed at this (who does?), but I’m also learning to forgive myself and not judge myself so harshly when I fail.
What’s that saying M. told me? ‘F.A.I.L.’ stands for ‘First Attempt In Learning.’ Hahaha.
Connected to all of this, and as if I intentionally want to perpetuate this dysfunction, therapy has helped me confirm that I actually *do* pursue emotionally unavailable/avoidant women, while rejecting, or at least minimizing, women who are really into me. I’m drawn to the former like a moth to a flame, while viewing the latter as totally disposable.
Oh you like me? That’s nice, but why would I want to be part of a club that would have me as a member? Surely I can do better than this! No, no, I’m looking for someone who isn’t sure about me, and who will bail when things go sideways–preferably someone with a bottomless emotional need–so I can temporarily prove my worth before getting rejected for reasons that have nothing to do with me, but which I’ll believe have everything to do with me, because that’s how I really view myself. That’s the Promised Land, baby!
If this sounds insane, it’s because it is. Fixing this deeply-rooted, self-sabotaging, low self-worth mentality takes time and work and requires outside assistance because it’s impossible to do alone. But recognizing you have a problem is the first step in solving it. I know, I sound like a member of Alcoholics Anonymous. Where’s my gold chip? It took me long enough, but I finally woke up.
2. I joined a local photography group on Facebook a few months ago. These groups are a great way to meet people with similar interests, learn something new, and maybe make a friend or two. After lurking and liking other people’s photos for several weeks, I finally posted a few of my own photos on the group website that got a few likes from people. It felt nice. Once in a while, the group’s administrator will pick a photo that one of our members posts to share as one of a dozen or so ‘Photos of the Week’ in a global newsletter that gets emailed to members of similar Facebook groups around the world. To my bemusement, I’ve had two of my photos selected for the newsletter so far.
What’s crazy is I took both of these photos when I was doing something totally new that I’d never done before. Here they are:
Not exactly National Geographic, but I’m proud of them. I took the first one after freezing my ass off for three hours in the middle of winter, as I was trying to capture my first full moon rise near a local beach. I took the second one after a group photography class in Bryant Park, NYC, when I was trying to apply what I’d just learned by playing with my camera’s shutter speed.
It’s rewarding to have photographers with way more talent and experience than me compliment my photos and recognize them as decent images. Photography is just a hobby, but it’s also a passion of mine. Sharing my work with others who have a similar passion is a great way to stay motivated in the art and connect with like-minded people. So I guess the lesson here is don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone when you love something. Be fearless and your authentic self and great things will follow.
3. I wanted Grandpa Joe out of the presidential race when he cratered after the June debate and then didn’t fix the growing perception that he was too old to serve another term. Thank God he’s out. Now we have another chance to kick that orange POS to the curb for good and finally get our first female President in the White House, which is long overdue. Having that racist motherfucker lose to a black woman would be icing on the cake. I’m superstitious though. There’s a lot of time left, so anything can happen. A month ago, Mango Mussolini looked like a lock, and now the script has been totally flipped. What a time to be alive for a political junkie like me.
4. Paris beckons, and I cannot fucking wait.
5. I’m crushing hard on Chappell Roan’s music right now. But before getting to her amazing songs, I love her backstory. How she got discovered on YouTube. How she wrote some nice songs initially but got dropped by Atlantic Records when they didn’t take off. How she was forced to return home to Missouri and work at a drive-thru to make ends meet for a while. How she never gave up on her dreams and kept writing and singing and using the force of her will to make her dreams happen.
And now she’s taking off like a fucking ROCKET. Her current album, ‘The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess,’ came out a year ago, and no one paid any attention to it at the time. I would hear ‘Pink Pony Club’ on Sirius XM while driving and really liked the way she told a story with such catchy lyrics, but I was never interested enough to figure out who sang the song, or to search for any of her other songs.
Then in April of this year she released ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ and her professional skids got greased. Unlike ‘Pink Pony Club,’ this song had more mass appeal and led people like me to listen to her other songs, which, as it turns out, are also fucking great. Beyond this, Ms. Roan is a joyful and authentic performer. She’s proudly queer and always has a smile on her face. She even brings drag queens on stage during her shows. You can tell she loves what she’s doing, doesn’t give two shits about public perceptions, and doesn’t take her success for granted.
I love artists like this. Now she has something like five of her songs on the Billboard charts at one time, which is incredible. For old fucks like me, we’re talking Madonna in the 1980s territory. M. loves her too – I think she may even eclipse Olivia Rodrigo for her at some point. She’s that good. Unless I’m mistaken, I believe she was also a background singer for Rodrigo at one time.
Now to her songs, which M. and I listened to non-stop on our recent trip to New Hampshire. It’s one thing to like a performer in the abstract, but it’s quite another to actually like their songs. My reasons are primarily selfish: I love Chappell Roan’s songs because they speak to me in a bizarrely personal way.
Here are a few examples:
Pink Pony Club
The first CR song I ever heard. I don’t know if it’s autobiographical, but the way she writes about a mother’s reaction to her daughter dancing in a club reminds me of my own mother and how hard it was (and still is) for her to let go of control over my sisters and I, and the choices we choose to make for themselves:
Don’t think I’ve left you all behind
Still love you and Tennessee
You’re always on my mind
And mama, every Saturday
I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away, saying
God, what have you done?
You’re a pink pony girl
And you dance at the club
Oh mama, I’m just having fun
On the stage in my heels
It’s where I belong down at the
Pink Pony Club
I’m gonna keep on dancing at the
Pink Pony Club
In short: I know you love me, and I’ll always love you, but I’m going to keep doing what I want because I love it, and what I do is more who I am than you’re willing to accept.
When my mother is gone from this world, I know this song is going to make me cry.
HOT TO GO!
I love this song so fucking much right now, I sing it everywhere, including in front of M.’s friends at her birthday party two weeks ago, which got a few laughs from everyone except her. To me, it’s a modern Y.M.C.A., simple, catchy, and fun as hell. Her fans even shape the letters when she plays it at her concerts, just like people do with Y.M.C.A. whenever it comes on. I can’t wait to go to one of her concerts and dance like an out of place fool to this song. It makes me happy.
Femininomenon
I love this one because it’s pure female empowerment. Makes me think of all the women I love and respect in my life, and all the hope I have for my daughter and her future. I wish M. could listen to it, but it’s chock-full of bad words, so she’ll just have to wait. Now that Grandpa Joe’s out of the race, maybe Kamala will bring us a REAL Femininomenon in this country.
These last two hit home because it feels like they were written for me.
Good Luck, Babe!
Probably her biggest hit so far. It’s a breakup song that tracks so much for me it’s hard to pick a few lyrics to excerpt:
It’s fine, it’s cool
You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth
And guess I’m the fool
With her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof
I don’t wanna call it off
But you don’t wanna call it love
You only wanna be the one that I call “baby”
You can kiss a hundred boys in bars
Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling
You can say it’s just the way you are
Make a new excuse, another stupid reason
Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)
You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling
Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)
You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling
I’m cliché, who cares?
It’s a sexually explicit kind of love affair
And I cry, it’s not fair
I just need a little lovin’, I just need a little air
* * *
When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night
With your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife
And when you think about me, all of those years ago
You’re standing face to face with “I told you so”
You know I hate to say, “I told you so”
You know I hate to say, but, I told you so
Magical and regressive thinking? Yes. Still delicious? Oh yes.
I’ve been good, so let me enjoy a slice of chocolate cake once in a while.
Casual
This one is so on point, I’m reprinting the whole thing, fuck it.
My friends call me a loser
‘Cause I’m still hanging around
I’ve heard so many rumors
That I’m just a girl that you bang on your couch
I thought you thought of me better
Someone you couldn’t lose
You said, “We’re not together”
So now when we kiss, I have anger issues
You said, “Baby, no attachment”
But we’re
Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out
Is it casual now?
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach
Is it casual now?
I know what you tell your friends
It’s casual, if it’s casual now
Then, baby, get me off again
If it’s casual, it’s casual now
Dumb love, I love being stupid
Dream of us in a year
Maybe we’d have an apartment
And you’d show me off to your friends at the pier
I know, “Baby, no attachment”
But we’re
Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out
Is it casual now?
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach
Is it casual now?
I know what you tell your friends
It’s casual, if it’s casual now
Then, baby, get me off again
If it’s casual
It’s hard being casual
When my favorite bra lives in your dresser
And it’s hard being casual
When I’m on the phone talking down your sister
And I try to be the chill girl
That holds her tongue and gives you space
I try to be the chill girl
But honestly, I’m not
Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her Long Beach house
I know what you tell your friends
Baby, get me off again
I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner
Your parents at the table, you wonder why I’m bitter
Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it
I hate to tell the truth, but I’m sorry, dude, you didn’t
I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself
Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell
I mean, FUCK.
That’s two slices of chocolate cake, so I guess it’s time to hit the gym now. Hahahaha
6. I hate grocery shopping so much that I can’t remember the last time I went to a grocery store. I think it was in Florida with my mother earlier in the year, but that was for her, not me. I’m not sure what it is that I dislike. Probably the annoying people and the time and effort it takes to perform what always feels like a chore. I hate grocery store crowds with a passion–they make my eye twitch–so when I did go grocery shopping, I did it during off hours, like at 9 or 10 pm, when Wegmans had no human traffic. Eventually I came to the conclusion that a $7 delivery fee plus tip is totally worth the time and aggravation I save by doing my food shopping online. I make enough money, so I can do this for myself. And the fact that it feels like Christmas here every couple of weeks is just an added perk.
7. I’ve had my car for almost eight years now, and I’ve decided that my next car is going to be an EV. I like BMWs, so I’ve been waiting for BMW to come out with its new 3-series EV that’s built on an all-EV chassis. The current one sits on top of a gas-powered chassis that they adapted to EVs, so it’s old technology and not a full conversion. But its new EV won’t come out until late 2025, so I’m growing impatient and starting to shop around. I took a ride in a friend’s Tesla the other day, and man, that car is seriously impressive. Immediate acceleration, a nice, modern interior, and the thing can even park itself backwards! This was only my second time in a Tesla, and now I’m sorely tempted to get one. Then I remember how much I can’t stand Elon Musk. That twat is not getting my money. I still love that car though, damn it.
8. I can’t believe how many dates I’ve been on in the past eight months. I’ve never dated this much in my life, not even post-divorce/pre-COVID. I think it’s time to level up my selectivity though, because it’s getting a little exhausting (and expensive), and the ROI isn’t close to what I’m looking for. That’s why what I just wrote shouldn’t be considered bragging. I’ve gotten to like two second dates with people, so this is more of an empirical self-study in mating behavior than anything else. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for, or what I want from someone. I keep telling myself I’ll know it when I see it, but it hasn’t happened yet.
9. Related to the above, one thing that I now demand from myself and other people in this process is clarity, authenticity, and honesty in communication. I don’t care if we just started texting and haven’t even gone out yet, or if we’ve gone out once and are doing a post-date autopsy (for lack of a better term) via text to see what, if anything, comes next, those three things are non-negotiables for me now. I obviously control how I communicate, so doing this myself isn’t hard, although it can be awkward as fuck after a date if I didn’t feel a romantic connection and now need to communicate this to the other person. But I do it anyway because I owe it to them and to myself and because it keeps things on an authentic and honest level that I want in my life now. I can’t demand it from other people if I don’t do it myself.
Example: the other night I had a great first date with someone, where there was enough physical attraction that we made out like two high school kids in a fortunately empty restaurant. (Cut me some slack, I’d had three strong Aperols, and she was a fantastic kisser.) But there wasn’t enough of a connection for me that I wanted to keep seeing this person, so I let her know in a nice way the following morning. I’m sure it hurt her feelings a little, but what was the alternative? Drag it out? Half-ass it so I confused her and led her on? No. I’ve been through that, and it still makes me angry to think about. It’s not hard to be honest with someone, even it if it’s awkward. Deep down people know how they really feel about each other. You’re not doing the other person any favors by half-assing hard conversations. Doing that is dishonest and cruel, so rip the fucking Band-Aid off. It’s better for them because it lets them move on immediately, and it’s better for you because you can actually look at yourself in the mirror afterwards. If you’re massaging the truth instead, you should ask yourself why you’re doing that. You may not like the answer. (Or maybe you’ll lie to yourself about that too.)
As I’ve written before, I’ve been on the other side of this rejection. The week before the date I described above, I went out with someone attractive and saw enough potential for a second date, but she told me (three days later) that she wasn’t interested because she didn’t feel a ‘romantic pull’ with me. This is how it goes, and it’s okay. We’re not everyone’s type, and we all deserve someone who is attracted to us and likes us for who we are. So isn’t it better to be clear and honest with each other about this stuff?
I’ve discussed this in therapy as well, and I feel really strongly about it because it’s a recurring theme. My therapist doesn’t tell me what to do exactly, but I can tell when she thinks something I’ve done is a positive behavior versus a negative one that needs correction. (They aren’t hard to differentiate!) Being honest and authentic and living my values through my behavior are two positives. So now when I get the sense that someone is jerking me around and not being fully honest or clear with me, I express this to them constructively, and if it continues after that, I’m out. I don’t need this shit in my life. There are flaky people everywhere. Authentic and honest people are not as easy to find, but they exist. I know this because I’ve met a lot of them over the past eight months.
10. The other day, M. was at her mom’s house, and she sent me this text
When I was single and immersed in my halcyon bachelorhood days, I could never have understood how happy a simple exchange like this would make me one day. A friend of mine with older kids once told me that fatherhood gets better and better as your kids grow up. He was right, and I’m starting to see this for the first time with M. It’s beautiful.
Anyway, we both love Glass Animals and have been waiting a long time for the rest of their new album to get released on Spotify. They’re coming to NYC next week, and I’ve been toying with getting myself a ticket to see them.
I’m not taking her though. I know a hint when I see one.
