My name is Trevor, and I’m fat. To anyone who knows me, this is like saying water is wet. I’m 6 foot 3, currently 289 pounds. My lowest in the last two decades has been 265, but I haven’t been under 200 since the eighties. And even then, according to the NIH, I’m not healthy until I’m down to 190. It’s these kind of metrics that drive heavy adults insane. Those metrics say every wrestler in WWE has to lose weight. And I defy you to call them unhealthy. What’s unhealthy is society’s obsession with weight and the damage it’s caused. The world has a body image problem.

I’m not here to preach to the converted. I know most of you reading this are aware of the issue. As the father of four girls and three granddaughters, I’m keenly aware of this. What I’m here to talk about is a problem that gets shoved under the rug: male body image issues.

I could quote you facts and figures, but most men with body image issues don’t talk about it, or would never admit to it. Gods knows, I never did. Until a couple years ago. Weirdly, it was three things that made me painfully aware of my problem: Kevin Smith, smut sites, and Pride.

I’m a big, literally, Kevin Smith fan. What struck me was he was on Late Show with Stephen Colbert one night, talking about his heart attack. He was petrified of being seen naked, so much that he hadn’t been fully unclothed unless he was showering since he was born. This is a man in his fifties, with a wife and child. If a guy like that can’t be free to be naked, why should I be? It made me sad.

Pride was a big factor when I started figuring this problem out. IF you ever have a problem with your body image, gentlemen, go to Pride. Damn guarantee someone there is looking at you and finding you cute. Yes, there’s a lot of muscle and skinny, but seeing the bears made me reconsider my body image. I mean, if those big, round, hairy as hell guys could get out there in speedos, why couldn’t I? Another piece of the puzzle fell into place.

Another thing that made me reconsider my image issues was smut sites. Growing up, men in porn weren’t worried about image, they just worried about being able to do the job repeatedly on camera. Unless it was gay porn. Those guys had to be buff. Men are visual and all. When porn and smut, got democratized and people coudl post themselves quickly and anonymously. the men lost their minds. Thousands , if not millions of dick pics flooded the net. Not a good thing, but I kidnof amdired the guts and bravado it tookt o post, or send those pics.

It led me to bring up my body image issues with my therapist. Mentally, I was at a serious low point, as well as physically. I had ballooned to close to 350. I was sedentary. I was having more low self esteem issues than ever before. I had non stop suicidal ideation. But even before all that, I couldn’t look at myself naked in the mirror. I could barely tolerate seeing myself with my shirt off. What she told me to do was the first step on the journey to where I am today,

She told me to stand in front of the mirro in the bathroom naked, for five minutes a day. If it fills you with horror, you’re not alone. Every guy, and several women I’ve suggested this to, have all looked horrified. I was against it. First time, I only lasted three minutes. Save your jokes, folks. For three months, I did that. I could look ay myself naked, but still felt uncomfortable naked. Then, as I was building up image self esteem, I blew my life up.

I won’t go into the gory details, or talk about fault or blame. My page, my life, my voice. Suffice it to say, when the smoke cleared, I was out of the house, out of my family and out on my own. And I discovered something out there that shocked me.

I was desired. Women and recently, a few men, found me physically attractive. I’d rarely , if ever had this happen. I was encouraged to be free and be naked on camera. Did I do it? The people who need to know that answer already do. We’re all adults here.

The last, and most important step in my body image journey has bene my girlfriend Jasmine. She’s encouraged me being naked, and not just for sexy times. As a result, I’m wearing clothes at home a lot less. You’ve bene warned, window peepers.

Why write about this? So men with body image issues look inward and realize they’re ok. So that people can use this story to maybe not dislike themselves so much. So maybe someone reads this and gets brave and feels free from what society tells them they should be. And yes, I”m writing this with less clothes than usually socially acceptable.

What also inspired me to write this was getting some negative test results. So I have to make changes so I’m healthier. Not weigh less, be healthier. Try to keep up the meat shell, folks, It’ll help with the mind as well. Good night.

Tonight’s post is kind of disjointed and weird, much like me. I’ve had an interesting couple of days, and I’m going to use this blog to sort some of it out on the page. If you don’t like therapy, probably won’t like this post. That’s ok. Not all of them can go to college.

Last night, I made dinner for my partner, Jasmine and her boyfriend, Ryan. That’s how I refer to them, among other terms, This is only my second time meeting him, he lives five hours away. But it was a nice evening, he’s a good guy. Any comments about poly ships and such, keep to yourselves. Our business, not yours. And it’s not really about the evening, but what happened after. Get your minds out of the gutter, you people. Oh wait, you read me. Get your minds out of the sewer.

Ryan and I talked on chat later that night. He had some real insight into the divorce I’m currently going through. He also had some insight on how to get back from, and recover from the situation, It was simple: make better choices.

Sounds simple, doesn’t it? But what do you do when you don’t trust your choices? When you’ve had it ingrained that you choosing is always going to be a failure. That’s what narcissists teach you: you always choose wrong, so I’ll choose. Even when you think you win, you lose. So you don’t choose. Because what’s the point in playing a game you’re never going to win?

I was pondering the notion of better choices throughout the day today, in the quiet moments. I spent it with my daughter Aubry. We went to see the new Fantastic Four, which is fucking awesome. That could be an entire post itself, but it won’t be. Because this post isn’t about the movie, it’s about a commercial before the movie.

What’s so important about the commercial? It was using “Only You” by Yaz. It being in the commercial didn’t bother me. Musicians have to eat. and Spotify needs to die. It’s the way they used it. They used it to soundtrack a meet cute. If you’ve ever heard the song, that is so not the use of that song.

Sitting there with Aubry, it took me back to the last time music use in a trailer annoyed me this much. Oddly, it connected to Aubry. It was when a crap movie, the Breakup, used the song Ball and Chain by Social Distortion in their commercials and trailers. Whoever had chosen this had looked at the song title, thought it sounded like the term old ball and chain, and chucked it into the trailer.

It was so thoughtless and dumb, That song is one of despair and wanting out of life, ending it all. Oddly enough, it had a deeper meaning for me, because when I held Aubry in my arms the first time, it was the first song I sang to her.

Now, you can say that singing a song about ending it all at that time was sick. Certainly most people who’ve heard it and the story think so. I’ve chosen to interpret it as I knew my life as just a guy was over. At that point, I was a father, and everything changed.

So maybe that’s the moral to this story. When you screw up, find a better way to think about your choices. Maybe figure out a way to wrap that mistake in a shiny new coat of paint, just so you can keep moving. I’ve suffered from feeling like losing all the time, and I need a new mindset, a new vision if I’m going to make better choices. Because that’s the goal, isn’t it? Make better choices. Good night.

They say that you regenerate your entire body every seven years. This is why the seven year itch exists, I think. People don’t keep up with each other, and boom, you’re married to a completely different person. I think this happens with people all the time. It can be a blessing or a curse. Some folks use this time to renew their strengths. Some people fall apart. It’s usually somewhere in the middle, I’m thinking.

I’ve never talked about my divorce in this place. Still won’t. But it is a trial by fire. A burning away of things. I mourn some of them ,some I don’t. But you can look at this as a season of nothing but loss. You lose security. You lose friends and family. And you can lose your self esteem, your self worth, think you’re the lowest scum on the face of the earth.

But it doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to die. At least not literally. Maybe these events, like divorce, or retiring, are like dying in Dark Souls or Dungeons and Dragons. It’s time to create another character. And you can choose to roll the dice, but I’d rather control who I become. Maybe that’s why I liked systems like Champions back in the day. Choosing your powers over rolling for them.

It can be tough figuring out who you want to emulate. I don’t recommend specific people. That route is hazardous. I think I’d like it to be like the comic book hero Captain Marvel. The word he used to activate his powers, Shazam, was an amalgam of people, each letter a different god , denoting a specific ability ot virtue. Think I’ll do that for me. I’m still figuring out who I want to be, Maybe this will inspire me to think , and more importantly, act better. I want to be better, so I must make better choices. I was never encouraged to choose as a child, so I don’t choose. Maybe just by choosing, I can fake it until I make it, Make the better choice, like my friend Ryan says. What’s better? Start listening to your brain, your heart and your instinct.

Yes, you’ll make mistakes. We all do. We trust the wrong people. It doesn’t mean you’re bad, or they are necessarily bad, just the combination doesn’t work. Maybe the locks need to be rekeyed, or the strings restrung. But change like that happens, and all you can do is try to be better on the other side of it. Good night

PS. Today is National Girlfriend Day. I have one. Her name is Jasmine. She’s amazing. I love her. That’s all.

I didn’t want to write this. I had a major family conflict tonight, the details of which are none of your business. But I curled up into a ball, went through some shit, talked to friends, etc, etc. I sat on my couch eating a fudgesicle, not wanting to do anything. But then a friend reminded me , obliquely, that I’m a Zen guy. So what’s the Zen response to troubles?

Chop Wood, Carry Water.

It’s the idea that the mind is entwined with this meat suit we wear. It’s a bonus , in my eyes, but sometimes the world we exist in, drags us down. I was feeling ashamed, sad, a whole host of feelings that left me numb and tired. I was going to go to bed, chuck it all in.

But that felt like defeat, like I was letting the situation rule me. That I was letting the slings and arrows, both deserved and undeserved, stop my life. And I wasn’t about to do that. That’s letting the brain weasels, the black dog, whatever you want to call it, win. It’s another step up onto the gallows. And I fight that climb every day.

In my opinion, there is no hard fast solution to getting over writers block. I prefer the solution John Hartness said to me: ass in seat. Like Skynrd said, all I can do is write about it. And I really need to start taking that to heart.

I’m going to end this by thanking everyone who’s reading these. In a lot of ways, you’re helping me. I hope I’m entertaining, not wasting your time, and make you think once in a while. Tonight, that ‘s all I have. Good night.

Tonight, we’re going to talk about the elephant in the room. Not just in this room, but every room. That’s right I’m talking about money, and by extension, capitalism.

This si not an advice column on how to manage your money. I’m notoriously bad with it. It was one of the factors in the end of my marriage. It’s not just trauma from the household I was raised in, I swear it’s genetic. My great grandfather turned down getting in on the ground floor of 3M. I watched my dad tell Steve Wozniak nobody was going to need a computer in their home. And me, I sold all my shares of Pixar days before Disney bought them.

But while I kid, money isn’t a laughing matter, mostly. As an actual concept, it’s kind of silly. Its all just little pieces of paper and zeros and ones in a computer file. And we’ve all agreed, for decades, that this is hwo things will work. But right now, it’s not working for anyone.

Before the crypto bros come calling, let me be clear: I don’t support cryptocurrencies. I’d call that shit Monopoly money, but that’s an insult to Monopoly. You know that game was created to show the evils of hoarding money? Then the Parker Brothers got hold of it, and warped it. It became a warped version of itself, like Celtic Frost’s Cold Lake or Metallica’s Black Album. Yeah, I said it.

Now money is useful, but that’s all it is: a tool. It shouldn’t be used to deny people food, shelter or dignity. And yet more and more, it’s being used that way. Heartwarming stories about school kids buying up the poor kids debt? They shouldn’t be heart warming, they should make you angry. Angry at the idea that people are starving if they don’t have money. If that , or homelessness, or any of the dozens of ill’s of capitalism and money don’t make you mad, there’s the door.

I’ve been homeless. I’ve had to use food banks to get by. And yes, i feel horrible about it. But why? Why do we criminalize poverty? Because it creates the two things that capitalism needs to survive: fear and othering. If you can feel superior to someone, then you can do evil to them. Because you’re better, you’re justified. I’ve been on both sides of that fence, and gods, do I regret perpetrating that system.

Every time I mention class war in this country, most people either deny its existence(morons) or think they’re on the winning side of it due to birth, skin color or God. Man, American Christianity is, by itself, a creator of a cavalcade of evils. But back in the swinging Sixties and Seventies, it had a threesome with capitalism and nationalism. That night in Vegas birthed two of the ugliest children on the planet:Christian Nationalism and the Prosperity Gospel.

Those two kids have ruined this country. People have used them to excuse hoarding and bigotry on a scale not seen since the Civil War. Which makes sense, since they’ve started another one already. And if you think I’m kidding, go ask people with skin color darker than yours. Some of the darker ones will tell you the first one never stopped. And these days, i’d be hard pressed to argue.

Now, I can hear some of you say: so Trevor, got any ideas? You’re just sitting on the couch, bitching and moaning. You’re absolutely right, Paul E. But that’s because I have constraints on me keeping me from fully embracing the idea I have to save this country from itself. That idea:platonic polycules.

For those not versed in ENM or polyamory a polycule is defined, loosely, as a group of individuals interconnected by loving relationships. Which is a great idea, and I’m a fan of. Why not have more loving? It’s not pie. So, to make it something that even monogamous people can enjoy, cut out the romance and trhe sex. Pool together as buds or lovers ot whatever, and share things. DO we need all these McMansions with two people in them, and environment killing lawns? Fuck no! Lets let people form groups to make large purchases. Liek a timeshare, but with things of actual value of them. This current genration is facing the lowest rate of home ownership since a hundred years ago. And we have record homelessness and poverty. So rathe than try and get more people the American Dream, lets reframe the dream.

People forget the nuclear family is a modern creation. It mostly doesn’t exist prior to the 40’s. Everyone had people living with them. It was either an older parent or a single relative. And sadly, pop culture has ridiculed this and promoted the single family since the 1950’s. This has led to people being more isolated and lonely as they chase a dream that is shrinking by the day.

And I’m not suggesting large biological families living together. That’s a dicey proposition at best. And eliminates the most common family for many people: the Family of Choice. You should be able to create your own family without exchanging bodily fluids. You still can but it shouldn.t be required.

We already have the laws in place for domestic partnerships, why not for domestic groups living together and sharing? Ironically , it comes back to the nasty child of Christ, the modern Christina Church. They’re so afraid of groups organizing outside their laws and control, they fight it tooth and nail. And yet, I doubt Christ would have supported their views. He didn’t marry and hung around with the same bunch of guys. And told them all he loved them. Sounds like a polycule to me. Yeah, I said it.

In the end, I’m not an economics professor, but how many of those guys are right about stuff. Go to a big ass bookstore, and look at the people promoting capitalism , in its current form. Lots of jail time there, because they believed those rules were for “other” people. I’m not perfect, and I think I’ve got a good idea, but not a belief. If you want to tell me honestly why we shouldn’t, leave a comment, But play nice, or I’ll get the banhammer. Good night,

I know it’s Sunday and all, but no, I haven’t converted to Christianity. I have several issues with that religion, but that’s not why I’m writing tonight. I’m here tonight to talk about grace.

Grace is sometimes called forgiveness, but I think grace goes deepeer than that. I think grace is a state of being, of looking at things with not just an open mind, but an open heart. I’ve asked for grace from some people, and had that hand slapped away that I offered. Too soon in some circumstances, too late in others. But I’m working, daily, to achieve a state of grace. To quote Lord Buckely , when talking about Jesus:”The Nazz, he had those pretty eyes. They saw everything so pretty. I wish I could see what the Nazz saw.”

That quote may not be correct, btu I think it gets to the heart of the matter. Jesus saw everything with grace. He could look at a man, and know his troubles, his foibles, his failures. He could see what he’d done and what had been done to him, to get him or her to where they were. I sometimes wonder if that was more a blessing or a curse. He had to look into Judas’s heart and know the guy was going to burn him. But he had to let happen what happened happen. And he forgave him, His dad didn’t, but his dad’s kind of a douche. Read the Old Testament, and tell me he isn’t. But again, trying not to bash, but damn it’s hard some times.

I think any human who manages to try and work towards grace is taking a noble road. Because we aren’t God, or Jesus. we live in a world that’s designed to separate us and isolate us, all in the name of control by other people. And a lot of times, we fail. I know, because i fail at grace a lot, even though I ask for it a lot. I think I deserve some, but that’s because everyone should get some. I think if people gave themselves more grace, they’d want to give it out to others. Because forgiving yourself might be the hardest thing of all, but it’s necessary. Forgiveness starts not at home, but in your own mirror. If you can forgive yourself, you can start on the rest of the world. You’re going to fail at it sometimes, but you shouldn’t stop trying.

Tonight, I failed at grace. I was at the laundromat, and everything was going wrong. Wrong settings, wrong timers, lots of people crowding the place, and all the heat and noise, it wasn’t a whole lot of fun. And on top of everything else, there was this guy.

Thsi gentleman was driving everyone in the place nuts. He kept rapping Kendrick Lamar lyrics, but he wasn’t Kendrick. And he was doing it at the top of his lungs. It was making a bad evening worse.

As it went on, I just tried to block it out. But in my heart, man, I wanted to yell at him. I thought he was trying to show off, to impress. But he wasn’t, as I soon learned. And what I learned , and my reaction, both shocked and made me feel ashamed.

We both started leaving about the same time. He reached down into his empty basket and pulled out a mostly empty bottle of vodka. Most people would have been , what an asshole. That wasn’t my reaction. My mother was an alcoholic, and most alcoholism comes from a deep well of trauma. There’s other factors, but the biggest part fo it is a big would that the person has suffered, or is suffering.

So I wondered, and still do, what had happened to him, What he’d done to others or to himself. What he’d suffered, or made others suffer and felt guilty. What had made him crawl into that bottle tonight, and I’m assuming many other nights. And I wished that someone could help him. I thought about it, but I didn’t even know where to begin. And that feels like a failure on my part. You can say I’m not trained, or it’s not my business, but how many of us have felt alone, and wished someone would care? I couldn’t do it, too wrapped up in my own stuff.

In the end, I’m going to have to forgive myself. I’m nothing close to perfect. I’m trying to fix myself so I can start on fixing the damage I’ve caused. And maybe, just maybe, give myself some grace.

NOTE 1: All opinions on this page are mine, and not representative of any of my employers, relatives, or anyone else but me.

NOTE 2: This is my page, not yours. Comments are moderated. Play nice. Good night.

Hulk Hogan is dead. But in my mind, he died a long time ago. Every new scandal, every dumb ass thing that came out of his mouth(Metallica’s bass player? Really?) was just another shovel of dirt on a history that he just kept burying and burying.

It’s been a rough few years, especially for people my age. The people I thought were heroes have been turning out to be assholes of the highest grade. If it wasn’t Hogan’s racism, it was Rodman kissing North Korean booty. If it wasn’t Louie CK turning out to be a perv, it was Neil Gaiman turning into a sexual predator.

It’s the kind of thing that makes you think about the people we lionize. Maybe we shouldn’t lionize them. Maybe we build a trust in them, that we believe them to be good. And maybe that’s too high a standard.

When they did the ten bell salute for Hogan, I choked up a little, despite all the horrendous shit he’s done, both in front of the cameras and behind the scenes. I wondered what exactly I was mourning. Was it the version I loved as a child? My own lost innocence? I still don’t know.

My girlfriend Jasmine and I were having a discussion last night about spirituality, It got to the topic of belief. She reminded me of Chris Rock’s character in the movie Dogma. That Jesus liked ideas rather than beliefs. Ideas are easy to change, belief is much trickier.

So maybe I don’t idolize people. Maybe I just like their itenadeas. Maybe I take Rodman’s tenacity and individuality. Maybe I take Gaiman’s love of history, myth and the written word. Maybe I take the idea that a real American fights for his fellow man. And I use them to forge my path, to create my own story, and be the hero of it. Good night.

I’m a romantic by nature. But it took me decades to recognize something that science has tried to deny for decades, and now admits defeat in trying to understanding it. Some call it witchcraft, some call it a gift, some call it psychic power. Science sometimes calls it spooky action at a distance. It can all be lumped under one term :intuition.

I wasn’t a believer at first. I was raised by narcissists who mocked horoscopes and yet went to church. Who wouldn’t allow Ouija boards in the house, and ridiculed a local business man who believed in pyramid power so much he built a replica of Giza in his backyard. (Go look up Gurnee pyramid house. I’ve been there,)

My friend Jacqueline was the first person who read my cards. And she was scarily accurate. She warned me about my father’s actions, my subsequent crashing and burning, and what did I do? I ignored it. But looking back, I saw what she had seen. So the door cracked open a little.

What kicked it in was going to school and discovering that people like Jung and authors like Robert Anton Wilson believed in things like synchronicity and psychic phenomena. RAW is also where my lifelong obsession with the number 23 came in. So there was some science to it. So I went out and bought a tarot card deck. And played with it a little, but it mostly sat there. I didn’t feel right about it.

Then came the moment that caved my head in, as far as spirituality. Dead Can Dance at the Vic in Chicago in 1993. I could write an entire post on that night, and maybe someday I will. Or maybe I wont. Maybe describing it will make it less so. All I know is that I was different after that show.

My friend Miles(Hi Miles! Hi Snooze!) introduced me to the term UPG. It stands for Unverifiable Personal Gnosis.. It means I had an encounter with something not of this realm, and I know it. And I can’t prove it to you. But I know what I know. And you can believe me or not, it doesn’t matter.

After that, things got even weirder. I moved to Minneapolis, where you could feel the energy in the streets. And even when I moved to less energetic places, I attracted things, people and energies that made it all seem like things were flowing and shifting and alive. MY family has called me a weirdness magnet, and they’re not wrong. If you ever meet me in person, ask me about the elephant in Chicago.

But over time, something changed. The magic dimmed. I don’t think I brought the energy from North Carolina back to Wisconsin with me. I let the light dim, and formed a sort of shell around myself. I was lost.

Then, out fo nowhere, life found me again. My running joke for decades was that the Tower card was my card in the deck. That I couldn’t have change without total carnage being made out of my life. And life tried to prove it, by me doing things that destroyed most of my life.

So the castle I’d built fell, the sand it was built on finally giving way. And I thought about throwing in the towel. SO I went and got a deck, and pulled cards. I cant remember the exact cards, but I pulled three three card layouts. What was in each one? The Star, the card for hope. SO I began to believe. And then more things happened, and I trusted my guts, and things got better. Not great, not even good some days, but better.

As a result, I got deeper into my spirituality and trusting the universe. But I don’t just cast spells and pray. Fuck that shit. Joey from DOA said it best: talk minus action equals zero. So I get out there, and I follow up words with actions, When I don’t the universe nips my ass to remind me of what I need to do. I’m getting better, but its a slow climb.

In the end, I think I’m saying , trust yourself. Trust your instincts. Find a way to be open to the universe. Listen to the song it sings, and dance to the tune. You’ll be amazed at what (and who) shows up to dance along with you.

I’m fat. I’m lazy. I have issues handling my money. I avoid shit like it’s going out of style. I can’t keep a routine to save my life. I go way too far sometimes. I have a temper and a foul mouth.

If that sounds like I’m down on myself, congratulations, you’re correct. I don’t like myself sometimes. In fact, most of my adult life, I haven’t liked myself at all. And the bad thing about low self esteem is that it becomes a self-fufilling prophecy. I’ve lost jobs, friends, my marriage(partially)and more opportunities than I can shake a stick at, Why? Because i didn’t believe in myself. And when you don’t believe in yourself, it’s had for others to believe in you. So the spiral goes down until you want to end your existence.

I’ve tried to kill myself twice in this lifetime. Once when I was in my teens, and once was earlier this year. I had a plan, the whole nine yards. Bought the necessary items. Thankfully, some people talked me out of it. I wont say, they know who they are and why I was going to do what I was going to do.

People who say “How could you do that? You have a kid?” They’ve never been there. Never been there where you think the world is better without you. And I’d like to say those thoughts don’t come to me now, mostly. Ask me again in a few months.

People are also going to accuse me of saying “look at me, pity me, because I was sad”. I don’t want your pity. If I wanted your attention, Id put naked girl pics up and rant about current events. Why I’m writing this is to erase the stigma, even a little., To tell someone reading this: you are not alone. Don’t give up. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary situation. It does get better. I won’t promise you happy, but I will tell you there are ways to fight low self esteem.

I had body image issues. A therapist said to look at yourself naked in the mirror for five minutes every day. Don’t laugh, it worked for me. Now I get home, and can’t wait to remove most , if not all of my clothes. Yes, other folks did help me there, but I had to start the drive myself. And if the image of me naked bothers you, well, don’t look, I can actually look at myself now in the mirror, and often say: hey, I like me.

Low self esteem comes from never having support or cheerleaders asa child. It can cripple a child’s social and mental development. Why try if nobody cares if yuo win. It takes a village, folks, Cheer people on. Know what else is great about that? You feel better as well. A rising tide lifts all the boats, not just the prettiest ones. Be nice to others, and it might rub off on you.

In the end, people are either going to like this or not. I can’t control that, so why worry about it? Kind of pointless to worry, but we all do it. But know this: if you’re reading this, I’m proud of you. I’m glad you’re alive, And I’m excited to hear whatever you have to tell me about, that brings you joy. Good night.

Friendship. It’s a lovely and many varied thing. If getting a divorce will teach you one thing, it’s who your friends truly are, were and are going to be. moving forward from that day forward. And it never plays out the way you planned or figured.

I’ve had people step up and back into my life. Ive had people I thought who would stand by me jump ship before anyone else. And I’ve had people I barely knew reveal depths of friendship I never knew before. It has been a blessing to discover thesethings about people I thought I knew.

One of the hardest things about all this has been trying to make new friends. People are so set in their ways by their fifties that its amazingly hard to fit in as a new person. It’s like trying to be the new kid on the first day of school, except the kids are even more tightly knit together. All these people have such busy lives, you wonder where you might fit in?

Thoughts like that can lead to despair. It can make you think you’re never going to find a new tribe, a found family, as it were. It can make you think you’re doomed to nights of ramen, surfing reddit, and Strange New World reruns.

But you can’t do that, if you’re looking to make new connections. You have to get out of the house, find something you enjoy doing. Sooner or later, you’ll find people will notice you around. And you can approach some of these people, say hi, strike up a conversation. Tougher than I make it sound, I can hear you say. We all work, we all have lives. But if you don’t put your ass in the pool, you’ll never swim.

When things started falling apart in my life, I found my refuge in something I hadn’t done in decades: going dancing. I found a release, and a way out of emotional pain by dancing to songs I hadn’t danced to in decades. And it opened up a door to many things, and many new people in my life. And it all started with picking up things I’d left behind.

So if you’re searching for new friends, ask yourself: what do I like to do? Are there places or organizations that do them together? Can I go do them? Or maybe meet some people with similar interests online? These things are possible, and good. Explore, get out the door, the world has things to show you, and people who liek them too. And they’d like to meet you too, I bet.

I’ve met so many neat people lately, especially in my age group. People who make me think my life isn’t over yet. People who are still alive, and vibrant. I’d name them all, btu I’d forget someone, and that would cause drama. But know if I’ve talked to you in the last few months and introduced myself, chances are, I think you’re awesome in some way or form.

As I end this, I’d like to shout out two fo the best things about Milwaukee: Goth Barge and Subspace. While both are nominally DJ collectives, organizing events from theme nights to game meetups, they provide quality inclusive events. And they’re all so NICE. Go to an event put on by these groups. You’ll thank me later. Good night.