Don't let the sun go down on me

There are times during one's life when everything sucks. You know, the kind that are so difficult you could just puke, hard on everyone around and seem entirely without reason. They often don't give a clear opportunity for a positive outcome, and even then, you feel that you shouldn't be able to gain anything positive from something so horrendous.

We are all transients here. Our time will come, and our time will go just as quickly. It's now been two weeks since my stepfather, Gennaro "Jerri" DiLauri, was killed in a tragic motorcycle accident. He woke up on the day of the accident just like any of us. He took a shower, got dressed, had some coffee, probably ate something and got on his bike to ride. He drove for miles enjoying life and doing something that made him happier than a pig in shit. But then, it was his time to go; and just that quickly, lives changed forever. My mom's life has changed in ways I can't possibly even begin to imagine. She lost a husband, a companion, a friend. If there was anything in the world I could do, or buy, or write, or think, or say that could take the pain away from her, you bet your ass I'd have done it already. His son and daughter have lost a father, a friend, a grandfather for their children...and I don't want to imagine that I'll have to endure the same thing one day. His brothers, his nephews, his friends, entire towns....it's all just a stunning tragedy.

From this tragedy, however, I have somehow seen a brighter picture. It seems almost unrealistically morbid to even write that. It seems downright cruel or insensitive. But while I understand their pain, I also have come to understand the joy that one human being can bring to this world; and it's mind-blowingly awesome.

I experienced a similar "rebirth" of my appreciation of humanity after my own accident. I don't in any way mean to compare experiences. Somehow, in what could have been something just as tragic, I was fine. It wasn't my time. But it was my time to realize that I wanted to be a better person, live my life honorably and have a fucking fantastic time doing it. It's been several years since then and I still strive to do that. I'm sure I've had my own rocky patches, but it's something I think about nearly every day.

Jerry's passing has re-focused my attention on that. Because it just as easily COULD have been my time. Then what? What has my life meant or done for others? I have to share that joy, that passion for life, that sincerity with people I love, with the guy at the store, or with somebody at a bar the way Jerry did.

As Jerry lived and Auntie Mame said, "Yes! Live! Life's a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!" Truer words have ne'er been spoken. Life is not a place to be shy about grabbing the first plate and stuffing yourself full. In fact, I'll see you in line for seconds, thirds... Thanks for the lesson, Jer'.

The Thinker

I write this post not just for my readers to better understand the goings on of my life, but to talk some sense into myself. The regular readers (which are few, but wonderfully loyal) will know that I've come to see myself as moving into a new place in my life. That I've been wanting to make real connections, to date, to see what's out there. I've done a little bit of that. And it's wonderful. Not so wonderful, however, is the game of interpreting the date. Even me saying such a thing makes me think I over-analyze it all from the get-go. But I'm sure there's supposed to be a general understanding of how it all went...and in searching for what that is for me, all the over-thinking just makes me doubt what that really was, or wasn't as the case may be.

I start my general post-date analysis with the understanding that I'm pretty solid at gauging how others are feeling by the signals they give out. One point for me. But then the, for lack of a better term, paranoid part of me wonders if those signals are all honest. My rational side realizes that I'll never get anywhere with anyone if I can't believe that what they're sharing with me is honest. But how do I turn off this distrusting part of me? What does that say about me to those I'm dating? Not good things, I imagine. So I just need to take the bull by the horns and trust my instincts until I have reason to believe otherwise.

I'm someone who, whether I like it or not, wears my heart on my sleeve. Every feeling is plainly visible on my face and in my body language. I used to think I was better at hiding them - and for a while even tried harder to do so. But if I can't be outwardly honest with my feelings, I'll end up shutting myself off to everyone around me and never finding the right connections in my life. I'm not even saying that I should jump headlong into any new experience. I'm not the kind to bring the UHaul to the third date and register at Tiffany for new china, nor do I want to be. But why I can't be more relaxed about all of this makes me more frustrated than not understanding it all to begin with. I enjoy an orderly existence in which I can know all of the variables. But - life is more complicated than that and I have to learn to enjoy that as well. Because, let's face it, even I know the journey is half the fun.

Hi, my name is David, and I'm an over-analyzer. Time to twelve-step it to a better way of interpreting my emotions, not getting all worked up and actually enjoying the connections with others in my life. I'll start with a breath in ... and a breath out.

I'm off like a prom dress to go forth in the world and practice some of this aforementioned letting go.

The Awakening

I'm going to take a break from the politically charged, the confrontational, and the carefully thought out posts that have marked my blog and my take on issues for the last several weeks. My post today may not be broadly applicable or even of interest given what I've been known for writing previously; but I feel a huge drive to write my thoughts and feelings about my own experience during Pride month and what I have come to learn about myself. It's long and emotional (for me anyway), but I urge you to read it. If for no other reason, for my selfish desire to open up to others more than I have ever been capable of doing.

With my time in San Francisco culminating (roughly) in Pride this weekend, I thought this a fitting post to end my month of LGBT community posts. Boy, was there community over the weekend. Leaving out the obvious low points (rude people, getting my balls racked purposefully by some girl at the Pride day festivities, and the lack of care and community from some that would likely have a lot to gain from actually going and seeing everything just for what it is), my Pride experience here is one for the books. I marched in the parade alongside my very good friend Ben with Virgin America. I went to bars. I went to parties. I saw friends. I watched people. And I went to the single largest street fair event I've ever seen. I saw things many people (including myself) would never want to see again. I saw things that titillated me. I saw things that saddened me. I saw things that inspired me. But what all of this really did was create an awakening in me that I don't think I'll ever be able to adequately describe. Just writing about it gives me chills and makes me want to open the flood gates of years of stored up tears. I've always been one who has appreciated, nay, celebrated vocabulary and the power of words to effectively communicate. I've been one to say that everything has a rational explanation. I've even been one, at times, to have an almost defiant incomprehension when someone else hasn't been able to adequately characterize events and feelings to me in words. But as I write this post, I throw all of that out of the window. There oftentimes are no rational, well-thought arguments and just as often, simply no words. Period.

I struggle for even a way to broadly describe it. But whatever it is, and whatever has happened to me and the way that I feel and see things, it has been an undeniably life-altering event. My lack of understanding of my own feelings makes me feel so intensely under qualified for life and relationships that I really have no idea how I've gotten this far in my life's journey. However I've done it, I thank my lucky stars. But the wave of consciousness and conviction that has since engulfed me makes me feel like a kid on the first day of school. So nervous that I won't be able to do it. So frightened of how others will see me. And so amazingly inspired and simply delighted that I feel as if I'm on fire from within.

I'm utterly dumbfounded at these seemingly enigmatic concepts within me. Not only did I finally feel part of the LGBT community, but that awareness brought me so much knowledge of myself that I will never, ever forget it. I cannot express to those who have helped me along this journey (which I realize has been a life-long journey) what they have done for me. I feel unworthy of this life's blessing and full of sheer bliss to move forward with what has been hidden in me for so long. Here's to life, my friends!