It's not a dress rehearsal.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The eagle has landed
I made it to Seattle today. I've run the whole gamut of emotions. Fingers crossed.
It's not a dress rehearsal.
It's not a dress rehearsal.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
ACK!
My place is all packed and half emptied. I'm not usually all that sentimental but this is a bit unnerving. Is it too late to change my mind? Eight years of memories. Most of my adult life.
I need a drink. Too bad the liquor is already packed...
I need a drink. Too bad the liquor is already packed...
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Open Invitation for Thursday Evening
A week from today I'm leaving for the next chapter of my life in Seattle with Amazon.com. Procrastination and a busy schedule means I haven't been doing a good job saying my individual 'goodbye's. I'm going to be having an informal 'open house' kind of thing at Torero's on Harrison Ave. across from SAS tomorrow (Thursday, April 17) after work. I'll be eating burritos and drinking margaritas on the back patio from 5 until 7:30 or so or as late as people want to hang out. The weather is supposed to be great! (update: I will be inside if the patio happens to be closed.)
Sorry about the late notice, but hopefully it will be easy for people to stop by for a bit after work if they are so inclined. Please don't feel obligated if it doesn't work out, I know many of you are introverts like me and have busy schedules to boot.
Please pass this on to anyone you think might be interested. All are welcome. It should go without saying, but please no gifts.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
It's not your fault
Recently a friend confided in me that they had been molested as a child. "Molested" is actually a bit tame of a word for what happened. The memory had been mostly buried until the recent news coverage of abuse and forced child marriage in a polygamist group in West Texas. I was the first person they had ever told.
Fortunately I never went through anything like that as a child but I did have an unpleasant episode as an adult several years ago. I've told a couple people over the years but always felt very embarrassed and shameful recounting the story (though the episode itself holds no power over me...it is just a learning experience at this point.)
I was alone on vacation, walking back to my hotel at the end of the night. Ahead of me a panhandler was getting in this guy's face. The guy was a bit rattled and saw a friendly face in me. "Would you mind crossing the street with me and walking down a block so I can get past this guy?", he asked. The situation wasn't quite that bad but I figure why not if it makes him feel better.
We got to chatting about my trip and the city and whatever. With the panhandler safely behind us he asked if I want to get a cup of coffee with him. It's a bit odd but what is visiting new places for if not to try new things. We walk a bit further and arrive not at a coffee shop but at his car. "The coffee shop is a bit too far to walk to." I would never have agreed to get in a car with him but since I agreed to get coffee I felt honor-bound to go through with it. There's a bunch of junk in the back seat covered by a sheet; I quickly felt it as I got in the car to make sure it wasn't severed heads or something.
The short drive became a bit longer as we get on the Interstate for a few miles. This is not what I had bargained for. "We'll just go to my place for some coffee and I'll drop you back off at your hotel." I was definitely on guard now but there wasn't much I can do from the passenger seat of a moving car. When we got to his place I am not impressed. It is a roach motel. There is no coffee. The conversation had remained superficially friendly but dripping with tension. In retrospect I should have just called a cab but at the time I was absolutely focused on maintaining the friendly charade and getting him to take me back to my hotel as promised. Plus I didn't want to give him any cause to draw a weapon if he had one. "Yes, I'll take you back. After we've talked for a while."
I didn't have much to say but he did. He told me about a suicidal teen he took in a few years ago. How the kid wasn't really gay but they came to be lovers anyway. How he was able to control him. How he graciously "released" him and allowed him to get married and start a family. How he could reclaim him at any time with a simple phone call. Through it all I just glared silently. Waiting. He had more to tell me but he wanted to give me a massage while he did so. "I want you to take me home now." I said calmly but forcefully. The charade was over. "Maybe I will and maybe I won't." he replied.
I remained firm about him promising to take me back and was very glad to have a good 40 lbs. on the guy. But he was on home turf and I had no idea where we were or if he had a weapon. We ended up reaching a bargain that is hard for me to admit to even today. He said he'd take me back if I let him take a picture of my feet and another of my face. "Fine!", I said through gritted teeth. Though he was annoyed I refused to smile for the camera, we did get back in the car afterwards. On the ride back I was quiet but seething with anger and shame. He threatened to drop me off in a part of town where "white boys don't last too long."
I quietly plotted a million different kinds of retribution. Upon pulling up to my hotel and getting out I settled for kicking off the passenger side mirror (he was very fond of his Mercedes). The plastic and glass shattered into a million satisfying pieces. That's the price for a photo of my feet, asshole. I tried to break the passenger side window, too, but it held. After two seconds of rage, fear (of him and of the cops) took over and I ran into the hotel. The elevator couldn't open or close fast enough; once inside I pushed buttons for floors other than mine so I wouldn't be followed. My heart has never beaten harder than it did in that elevator.
It ruined my vacation but in the end I got off cheap. I made some absolutely stupid and embarrassing mistakes but I still didn't deserve to be treated that way. And I was a grown man. To my friend and all the others out there who have been victimized (as children or otherwise), IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT! Predators target those who are unable to defend themselves and use your own sense of right and wrong to keep you off balance and submissive. They plan out their scenarios far in advance and you have only seconds to react. They capitalize on the fact that we are raised to see the good in others.
Say it to yourself. "It is not my fault."
Now say it again.
Fortunately I never went through anything like that as a child but I did have an unpleasant episode as an adult several years ago. I've told a couple people over the years but always felt very embarrassed and shameful recounting the story (though the episode itself holds no power over me...it is just a learning experience at this point.)
I was alone on vacation, walking back to my hotel at the end of the night. Ahead of me a panhandler was getting in this guy's face. The guy was a bit rattled and saw a friendly face in me. "Would you mind crossing the street with me and walking down a block so I can get past this guy?", he asked. The situation wasn't quite that bad but I figure why not if it makes him feel better.
We got to chatting about my trip and the city and whatever. With the panhandler safely behind us he asked if I want to get a cup of coffee with him. It's a bit odd but what is visiting new places for if not to try new things. We walk a bit further and arrive not at a coffee shop but at his car. "The coffee shop is a bit too far to walk to." I would never have agreed to get in a car with him but since I agreed to get coffee I felt honor-bound to go through with it. There's a bunch of junk in the back seat covered by a sheet; I quickly felt it as I got in the car to make sure it wasn't severed heads or something.
The short drive became a bit longer as we get on the Interstate for a few miles. This is not what I had bargained for. "We'll just go to my place for some coffee and I'll drop you back off at your hotel." I was definitely on guard now but there wasn't much I can do from the passenger seat of a moving car. When we got to his place I am not impressed. It is a roach motel. There is no coffee. The conversation had remained superficially friendly but dripping with tension. In retrospect I should have just called a cab but at the time I was absolutely focused on maintaining the friendly charade and getting him to take me back to my hotel as promised. Plus I didn't want to give him any cause to draw a weapon if he had one. "Yes, I'll take you back. After we've talked for a while."
I didn't have much to say but he did. He told me about a suicidal teen he took in a few years ago. How the kid wasn't really gay but they came to be lovers anyway. How he was able to control him. How he graciously "released" him and allowed him to get married and start a family. How he could reclaim him at any time with a simple phone call. Through it all I just glared silently. Waiting. He had more to tell me but he wanted to give me a massage while he did so. "I want you to take me home now." I said calmly but forcefully. The charade was over. "Maybe I will and maybe I won't." he replied.
I remained firm about him promising to take me back and was very glad to have a good 40 lbs. on the guy. But he was on home turf and I had no idea where we were or if he had a weapon. We ended up reaching a bargain that is hard for me to admit to even today. He said he'd take me back if I let him take a picture of my feet and another of my face. "Fine!", I said through gritted teeth. Though he was annoyed I refused to smile for the camera, we did get back in the car afterwards. On the ride back I was quiet but seething with anger and shame. He threatened to drop me off in a part of town where "white boys don't last too long."
I quietly plotted a million different kinds of retribution. Upon pulling up to my hotel and getting out I settled for kicking off the passenger side mirror (he was very fond of his Mercedes). The plastic and glass shattered into a million satisfying pieces. That's the price for a photo of my feet, asshole. I tried to break the passenger side window, too, but it held. After two seconds of rage, fear (of him and of the cops) took over and I ran into the hotel. The elevator couldn't open or close fast enough; once inside I pushed buttons for floors other than mine so I wouldn't be followed. My heart has never beaten harder than it did in that elevator.
It ruined my vacation but in the end I got off cheap. I made some absolutely stupid and embarrassing mistakes but I still didn't deserve to be treated that way. And I was a grown man. To my friend and all the others out there who have been victimized (as children or otherwise), IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT! Predators target those who are unable to defend themselves and use your own sense of right and wrong to keep you off balance and submissive. They plan out their scenarios far in advance and you have only seconds to react. They capitalize on the fact that we are raised to see the good in others.
Say it to yourself. "It is not my fault."
Now say it again.
Friday, April 4, 2008
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