Chilling at the bar with my best friend from the law school, his fiance, and some of other law school buddies and their fiances--I mean, I must be the only dude without a fiance at the table or in the law school for that matter--drinking my beer, I notice what is becoming increasingly commonplace: OLD ASS WOMEN IN THE BAR WITH YOUNG ASS PEOPLE. I am not talking 28, 29, I am talking more like 35, 36. 37. I am not saying that if these women have "it," they are not allowed to flaunt "it" (whatever "it" is), but I am saying once you hit 25, years become dog years. Consider the following reactions I typically have (in my mind) when I get a response from a lady about her age:
25: "Okay, so you are just getting of grad school, huh?"
26: "How's the practice going?"
27: "So are you looking to buy a house?"
28: "You don't have a house, yet?"
29: "You aren't married? Still ain't got that house yet, huh?"
30: "Got a babysitter? Good."
31: "Um, you stay up pass 8?"
32: "Um, you stay up pass 5?"
33: "Damn, you must have had a hard time staying up...past 5."
34: "She got to have 8 kids."
35: "What is she doing here? What the f*ck I am I doing here?"
Now, let me first say that I've had my encounters with the older kind. I dated a lady who was 30 and we remain good friends. She's a freelance photographer and graduate student at OSU. When I first met her, I thought she was older, around 25 or 26. It wasn't until our first date I found out she graduated from undergrad during my sophomore of high school. But, she turned out to have a magnetic personality which ameliorated any questions I had on age. But as in most cases where there is a severe age disparity between lovers, she wanted a bit more than what I was willing to give. At the age of 30, she is looking for those things I joked about before: (A) House; (B) Kids; (C) Stability; and (D) Getting To Bed Around 8.
The second was 38 (now 39). We are actually neighbors and go out from time to time. Nothing serious at all, but we get those looks. She is noticeably older than I, but when she introduced herself to me while moving in, I thought she about 30. But, I guess after being a member of a dance troupe in Chicago and performing on Broadway, you would look miraculous at the age of 39 too. She is a Ph.D student at OSU writing her dissertation on the dance routines of Katherine Dunham. Anyway, she was not like the prior case--she is extremely free-spirited (I guess you would assume that given her background) and there's nothing serious between us. We go out get a drink and grab dinner from time to time. But, it's the looks and the suspicion that goes on that affects us when we are out in public. Many times, she's jokingly commented about the perception that she's robbing the cradle. We laugh about it. When it's us, it's funny.
BUT, when I am out with my friends in the bar or the club, I find it a bit worrisome. These older women are often at the bar, struggling to fit in, trying to talk to younger guys, going from table to table trying to find something in common with young ladies 10-15 years their junior. The essential finding is this: somewhere these older people were left behind by their generation--either they were never fully accepted or were never comfortable with getting older. However, while I think no one is afraid of getting older per se, I do think that people are afraid of growing old alone or without ever finding a niche. Truth be told, some of these older women do fit in with the younger crowd. However, for most, it is facially evident that they do not fit in, but rather, they are forcing themselves in.
These women are deserving of more. Question is, do they want it? I mean, after all, who wouldn't want a house?
Saturday, February 16, 2008
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The Fevers...
First, before I start, let me get this out:
I heard she was dating a married man. Might have been awhile ago, but he was married nonetheless.
Okay, got that out the way. Well, another Valentine's Day has passed and I am single, just going day to day. I like it--the single life took awhile to get used to, but I am enjoying myself nonetheless. In fact, I didn't even notice that the holiday had passed. Instead, I was at the library getting ready for the second round of Moot Court, getting my 1L colleagues in order, researching for the judge, and discussing how fly Michelle Obama is. Ha, exciting. I know.
The problem is, I am too busy to be in a relationship. I have difficulty finding "me" things to do outside of school work (i.e., cleaning my house, fixing myself dinner, etc.). However, it does not mean that I don't miss the companionship of a woman. I miss the dreaming, the feeling that things are going to go well--the optimism of being with someone; the fact that you could possibly share your life with that person for the duration of your time on Earth. But then reality sets in...I've changed. I am a bit more cynical about the process of loving.
I many respects I've adopted the very attitude I despise. I have never understood the "I don't need a woman [or man] because I am doing my thing" attitude. That's bullshit. Instead, I have always viewed those people as having the "I am really too proud to say I need a woman [or man], but if the right one comes along, I ain't going to just say no" attitude. But given my workload, my innate ability to stress over the minor, and the fact that law school (and the folks in it) make me increasingly crabby and reclusive, should I expect a woman to be with me right now? Perhaps, the attitude of "I don't need a woman..." is the better option. But we all yearn for companionship, someone to enjoy the highs and suffer through the lows with. I think I am no exception.
In sum, it's probably best to be alone. The stress of a relationship while in law school is something I can't handle. If anything, law school has made me less sensitive, less empathic, and more of a realist. I am no longer the idealistic fantasy lover of the past. Right now, I only care about myself and my career and I think it is blatantly wrong to have someone suffer through that. However, the inevitable tension is that I would like to love again without having to go through all the stress of a functional relationship. Again, this seems more like a day-to-day situation, with no apparent resolution in sight. Alas, patience, my friend, is the operative word.
On second thought, I could just always get a dog.
I heard she was dating a married man. Might have been awhile ago, but he was married nonetheless.
Okay, got that out the way. Well, another Valentine's Day has passed and I am single, just going day to day. I like it--the single life took awhile to get used to, but I am enjoying myself nonetheless. In fact, I didn't even notice that the holiday had passed. Instead, I was at the library getting ready for the second round of Moot Court, getting my 1L colleagues in order, researching for the judge, and discussing how fly Michelle Obama is. Ha, exciting. I know.
The problem is, I am too busy to be in a relationship. I have difficulty finding "me" things to do outside of school work (i.e., cleaning my house, fixing myself dinner, etc.). However, it does not mean that I don't miss the companionship of a woman. I miss the dreaming, the feeling that things are going to go well--the optimism of being with someone; the fact that you could possibly share your life with that person for the duration of your time on Earth. But then reality sets in...I've changed. I am a bit more cynical about the process of loving.
I many respects I've adopted the very attitude I despise. I have never understood the "I don't need a woman [or man] because I am doing my thing" attitude. That's bullshit. Instead, I have always viewed those people as having the "I am really too proud to say I need a woman [or man], but if the right one comes along, I ain't going to just say no" attitude. But given my workload, my innate ability to stress over the minor, and the fact that law school (and the folks in it) make me increasingly crabby and reclusive, should I expect a woman to be with me right now? Perhaps, the attitude of "I don't need a woman..." is the better option. But we all yearn for companionship, someone to enjoy the highs and suffer through the lows with. I think I am no exception.
In sum, it's probably best to be alone. The stress of a relationship while in law school is something I can't handle. If anything, law school has made me less sensitive, less empathic, and more of a realist. I am no longer the idealistic fantasy lover of the past. Right now, I only care about myself and my career and I think it is blatantly wrong to have someone suffer through that. However, the inevitable tension is that I would like to love again without having to go through all the stress of a functional relationship. Again, this seems more like a day-to-day situation, with no apparent resolution in sight. Alas, patience, my friend, is the operative word.
On second thought, I could just always get a dog.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
The Uninvited Invited Guest...
Disclaimer: Gay people are cool. I am not a homophobe.
A couple of things I've noticed that are particular to my law school. One, including myself, there are about four straight single Black males at the law school (this is excluding my one engaged Black friend--regardless of my last post, this guy is really cool). Two, I am nothing special. What I mean by the latter is that I am a straight heterosexual Black male. To give an example of what I mean, consider the following narrative:
Friday, Jan. 4th, 8:17p:
I got to find some clean drawers. I am going out tonight. The next semester starts in three days, so I am going to have fun. I had my clothes already picked out, ironed, and ready to go. I was fresh and clean, had that 1930s Old Spice thing going on. TONIGHT WAS THE NIGHT. I was on the prowl. Smelling like a grandfather, with a fresh fit, not to mention the fact that I am in law school--I was going to get some new women friends tonight. The law school bit doesn't work all the time--I know. You don't have to remind me. But, I was feeling confident, I looked good, and I was going to put what game I had to use. My goal, four numbers.
8:48p:
The phone rings. Drawers on, I answered. "Hello, good night." (the Caribbean coming out).
My friend, "You ready?"
"Yeah, almost. Where are we meeting? The law school?"
Friend, "Yeah."
"Who is all going out tonight?"
"Me, you, R, A, D, M, T, J, and some other people."
"Word? It's going to be a large contingent of Black folk then. C is going too."
"Cool. Um..."
"What's up?"
"Yeah, I got to tell you this."
"What?"
"Well, we're going to D's place first."
"For what? D's my girl and all but I thought we were going straight to the Arena District?"
"Nope, we got an announcement."
"This ain't middle school...is there something going on?"
"Well, you T's friend Y?"
"Yeah, I know who that is. Why, what's up?"
"Well, he's coming out."
"Okay, so he's going with us tonight too? That's cool."
"That's not what I mean."
"Okay, what do you mean 'coming out'?"
"You know. Coming out."
9:01p:
I hang up the phone. "WHAT THE F*@K??!!"
9:38p, D's place:
I ain't gay. T, and I guess now, Y, the only gay dudes here. Everyone else is straight. Man, they got chicken, ribs, alcohol, cookies, snack cakes, and the like. Man, when they going to start having free food for me just off GP? Y, gets up. He gives some little speech. Sounds like an after-school special. Then, just like that, he's gay. I don't know what to think. Um, let me get some of this chicken and potato salad.
3:37a, White Castle:
I'm sober, I think. 3 phone numbers. She was alright. What happened tonight? Was it that serious?
-----------------------
Was it that serious? I had never experienced anything like before. I had just attended an actual coming out party. Well, I don't consider myself a homophobe, I was actually uncomfortable. I was not the exception. Every other single Black male (in total, 5 out of about 13 people total) there seemed to be caught off guard. Confused. This wasn't our celebration.
The bigger question for me was, what was the point? If Y was gay, he was gay and that was it. I appreciated the free food. You know I am always down for the free lunch. Was the ABC after-school speech needed? No. The pre-celebration? No. It was simple to me: Y has his own life, he can do what he wants. But my female friends had to go out of their way to let Y know that it was fine to be gay. Funny thing to me was that it was always okay and I am straight. The excessive celebration was what turned me off.
Which gets me here. First, in the law school, there has always been this push to make homosexuality mainstream. Of course, this is also the general push abroad. However, sitting in D's place, eating my beef rib, listening to Y's speech, I thought wasn't this whole coronation ceremony antithetical to homosexuality's pursuit of mainstream acceptance? It became readily apparent that Y was basking in the fact that he had the floor. The fact that he could tell the world that he was GAY. He was in fact, basking in the fact that he was different--that he was outside the mainstream. In his eyes, he was special.
To me, he wasn't. He was just a guy that liked guys. Before all this, when the group had previously got together, me and Y had talked football, predicted the college bowl game winners, burped and farted at inappropriate times, talked about women we (women that I wanted, I guess now) wanted--you know, man stuff. You know, if he had said informally that he was gay, I don't think I would have had much of a reaction. My reaction would have been: "Word?" Sip of the beer.
The point is this, if you want your sexuality to be mainstream, you have to act mainstream. That means doing what you feel without fear of repercussion. To be honest, everything is not going to readily accepted. For example, if Y talked to me about his men friends (i.e., sexual escapades), I'd tell him straight up that I didn't want to hear it. But, simply because I don't want to hear about his adventures does not make me a homophobe. It makes me normal. I don't tell everyone about my sexual relations with my women friends--well, I don't get too explicit, so why should he?
Believe it or not, with mainstream acceptance, comes an inherent set of restrictions. This is the TENSION--it's mainstream acceptance v. special status. The special status, comes with this supposed protection from criticism. Well, like I said, it supposed. I think the principled stand for Y would have been this: Let's go out and fun, by the way, I'm gay. It sounds relatively simple. I realize that it's not. But I felt Y's coronation ceremony was contrary to its purpose. Y simply forgot the increasing number of people, who say with sincerity that it's okay to be who you are. It's okay to be homosexual. In fact, believe it or not, I say it's normal.
Having said all this, it does not mean that one has to put aside their identity. What it does mean though is that you don't have to wear it on your sleeve. My experience is of particular relevance. I am a Black male in law school. It's a special status because there are so few of us. But, I think people look past it for the most part (exception: when we get the BIG firm jobs that the white folk wanted, but more on that later). But, it doesn't mean I don't get reminded from time to time or day to day. I feel the repercussions that result from my racial identity. It shapes my paradigm of the world. It's who I am and it's not going to change. I just don't wake up every morning with the intent of letting everyone know that I am a Black male in law school. In fact, I joke about it.
I don't think that many homosexuals wake up with the intent of telling the world each day who they are either. They probably just go about living without the need for special recognition. To them, it's normal.
Funny thing is, I feel the same way.
(Note: This has no bearing on the fact that I still strongly believe that sexual orientation should been included in anti-discrimination laws, that the Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment should be read to prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation. It also has no bearing on my support that gay marriage should be allowed and adoption by gays should be protected).
A couple of things I've noticed that are particular to my law school. One, including myself, there are about four straight single Black males at the law school (this is excluding my one engaged Black friend--regardless of my last post, this guy is really cool). Two, I am nothing special. What I mean by the latter is that I am a straight heterosexual Black male. To give an example of what I mean, consider the following narrative:
Friday, Jan. 4th, 8:17p:
I got to find some clean drawers. I am going out tonight. The next semester starts in three days, so I am going to have fun. I had my clothes already picked out, ironed, and ready to go. I was fresh and clean, had that 1930s Old Spice thing going on. TONIGHT WAS THE NIGHT. I was on the prowl. Smelling like a grandfather, with a fresh fit, not to mention the fact that I am in law school--I was going to get some new women friends tonight. The law school bit doesn't work all the time--I know. You don't have to remind me. But, I was feeling confident, I looked good, and I was going to put what game I had to use. My goal, four numbers.
8:48p:
The phone rings. Drawers on, I answered. "Hello, good night." (the Caribbean coming out).
My friend, "You ready?"
"Yeah, almost. Where are we meeting? The law school?"
Friend, "Yeah."
"Who is all going out tonight?"
"Me, you, R, A, D, M, T, J, and some other people."
"Word? It's going to be a large contingent of Black folk then. C is going too."
"Cool. Um..."
"What's up?"
"Yeah, I got to tell you this."
"What?"
"Well, we're going to D's place first."
"For what? D's my girl and all but I thought we were going straight to the Arena District?"
"Nope, we got an announcement."
"This ain't middle school...is there something going on?"
"Well, you T's friend Y?"
"Yeah, I know who that is. Why, what's up?"
"Well, he's coming out."
"Okay, so he's going with us tonight too? That's cool."
"That's not what I mean."
"Okay, what do you mean 'coming out'?"
"You know. Coming out."
9:01p:
I hang up the phone. "WHAT THE F*@K??!!"
9:38p, D's place:
I ain't gay. T, and I guess now, Y, the only gay dudes here. Everyone else is straight. Man, they got chicken, ribs, alcohol, cookies, snack cakes, and the like. Man, when they going to start having free food for me just off GP? Y, gets up. He gives some little speech. Sounds like an after-school special. Then, just like that, he's gay. I don't know what to think. Um, let me get some of this chicken and potato salad.
3:37a, White Castle:
I'm sober, I think. 3 phone numbers. She was alright. What happened tonight? Was it that serious?
-----------------------
Was it that serious? I had never experienced anything like before. I had just attended an actual coming out party. Well, I don't consider myself a homophobe, I was actually uncomfortable. I was not the exception. Every other single Black male (in total, 5 out of about 13 people total) there seemed to be caught off guard. Confused. This wasn't our celebration.
The bigger question for me was, what was the point? If Y was gay, he was gay and that was it. I appreciated the free food. You know I am always down for the free lunch. Was the ABC after-school speech needed? No. The pre-celebration? No. It was simple to me: Y has his own life, he can do what he wants. But my female friends had to go out of their way to let Y know that it was fine to be gay. Funny thing to me was that it was always okay and I am straight. The excessive celebration was what turned me off.
Which gets me here. First, in the law school, there has always been this push to make homosexuality mainstream. Of course, this is also the general push abroad. However, sitting in D's place, eating my beef rib, listening to Y's speech, I thought wasn't this whole coronation ceremony antithetical to homosexuality's pursuit of mainstream acceptance? It became readily apparent that Y was basking in the fact that he had the floor. The fact that he could tell the world that he was GAY. He was in fact, basking in the fact that he was different--that he was outside the mainstream. In his eyes, he was special.
To me, he wasn't. He was just a guy that liked guys. Before all this, when the group had previously got together, me and Y had talked football, predicted the college bowl game winners, burped and farted at inappropriate times, talked about women we (women that I wanted, I guess now) wanted--you know, man stuff. You know, if he had said informally that he was gay, I don't think I would have had much of a reaction. My reaction would have been: "Word?" Sip of the beer.
The point is this, if you want your sexuality to be mainstream, you have to act mainstream. That means doing what you feel without fear of repercussion. To be honest, everything is not going to readily accepted. For example, if Y talked to me about his men friends (i.e., sexual escapades), I'd tell him straight up that I didn't want to hear it. But, simply because I don't want to hear about his adventures does not make me a homophobe. It makes me normal. I don't tell everyone about my sexual relations with my women friends--well, I don't get too explicit, so why should he?
Believe it or not, with mainstream acceptance, comes an inherent set of restrictions. This is the TENSION--it's mainstream acceptance v. special status. The special status, comes with this supposed protection from criticism. Well, like I said, it supposed. I think the principled stand for Y would have been this: Let's go out and fun, by the way, I'm gay. It sounds relatively simple. I realize that it's not. But I felt Y's coronation ceremony was contrary to its purpose. Y simply forgot the increasing number of people, who say with sincerity that it's okay to be who you are. It's okay to be homosexual. In fact, believe it or not, I say it's normal.
Having said all this, it does not mean that one has to put aside their identity. What it does mean though is that you don't have to wear it on your sleeve. My experience is of particular relevance. I am a Black male in law school. It's a special status because there are so few of us. But, I think people look past it for the most part (exception: when we get the BIG firm jobs that the white folk wanted, but more on that later). But, it doesn't mean I don't get reminded from time to time or day to day. I feel the repercussions that result from my racial identity. It shapes my paradigm of the world. It's who I am and it's not going to change. I just don't wake up every morning with the intent of letting everyone know that I am a Black male in law school. In fact, I joke about it.
I don't think that many homosexuals wake up with the intent of telling the world each day who they are either. They probably just go about living without the need for special recognition. To them, it's normal.
Funny thing is, I feel the same way.
(Note: This has no bearing on the fact that I still strongly believe that sexual orientation should been included in anti-discrimination laws, that the Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses of the Fourteenth Amendment should be read to prohibit discrimination based on sexual orientation. It also has no bearing on my support that gay marriage should be allowed and adoption by gays should be protected).
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