I have tended to pull my punches on this blog but I am not here to debate politics, religion or even what sort of car to drive, but I am sure you can guess where my sympathizes lie.
It is with great dismay that I have watched what appears to be a civil war brewing in the “trans” word. When I first made tentative steps towards coming out two years ago I found an accepting community. Today I think I would be asked to take sides or simply be told where I belong and where I must stay.
For those of you who may have missed this classic Dr. Seuss story as children here it is:
The job situation and hence the ability to transition is looking up. A bit too early to announce anything but I am fairly positive that my master plan is coming together….excellent (say like the Simpsons Mr. Burns).
It will be a busy and a challenging year with no guarantee of success except that, which I can make happen through my own hard work.
It is hard to imagine that in less than a year I could be full time and working at home en femme in mere weeks!!!
Feel like breaking into song (like in an Elvis movie). I am trying to keep level headed as I know there is still the chance it could all go south.
The Hawk Weird-Oh model kit graphic got some attention yesterday. The Weird-Ohs were designed by graphic artist Bill Campbell, clearly influenced by Ed Roth, here is the complete history:
Traffic jams blocked my normal route so I detoured along Lakeshore Road. Lake Ontario displayed a million shades of grey with clouds that seemed to rise up out of the horizon, quite beautiful in winter's own terrifying way. I would have liked to have stopped and taken a photo.
But work beckons…
Story of my life, no time stop and smell the roses. We are told that we should be thankful for a job in this economy. I do not disagree but it has been almost a decade of running flat out, I have lost touch with friends, no time to visit my grandmother, no time with the children except to hector them to get homework done or get up and get ready for school.
I am so tired.
Even the cars, my Stutz project (my personal Grail) lays dormant waiting for finishing touches that may never come. The Caddy was driven only twice last year, the Imperial all but forgotten.
It seems as if the message is hurry up, hurry up and die. No I will not comply, time for a change…
I still fervently believe in the “American Dream” but transition and being honest with myself at long last has turned my priorities on their head, hopefully for the better.
Ok I am taking myself all too seriously, time for some Old Timey music:
Hot Damn, It’s the Soggy Bottom Boys…
Try not to be turned into a toad today,
April
Picture is of a Hawk Weird-Ohs model kit from the sixties, Daddy - The Way Out Suburbanite (racer; aka. "the Swingin' Suburbanite"). Personally I would rather be this one,
I did not post yesterday as I have been on pins and needles regarding a new career opportunity. I am fairly certain that things will pan out but we have yet to ink a deal due to various issues. There is a definite air of inevitability and overall today I am positive.
The on again off again talks were driving me mad, causing manic joy and depression in equal measure. Pounding away on the tread mill with the iPod super loud was all that was keeping me sane.
The reason for my hyper emotional state is that my current position precludes any thought of transition. A smooth at work transition is not guaranteed by any potential new opportunity but I will now have a fighting chance.
The ability to begin the planning process for transition is so exciting the thought that by the end of the year….sorry getting ahead of myself.
I will of course share more as soon as I find out.
Snowpocalypse this morning, lots of shoveling and very painful fingers (I had gotten frost bite in my finger tips in Sudbury years ago and they are extremely sensitive to the cold and can be quite painful).
The major highways were a parking lot and the side streets slushy and slippery. The Toronado’s fwd and weight pulled her through with poise and I was one of the few cars going the speed limit.
Of course today’s cut is Needles and Pins, I thought I would post the hit version by the Searchers, or maybe the Ramones, even Del Shannon did a cool version. I am partial to Jackie De Shannon’s:
Since I missed yesterday here is a bonus track, Jackie again with the rocker, It’s Love Baby:
Met girlfriend Marissa for coffee last night, it ad been a while and it was good to catch up. Our usual hangout closed up early at 11:00 so we finished off our discussion at her place then home to bed….too late as usual
Saturday night was a dinner party with friends but in male mode and with wife “J”, as three of us were fellow travelers or “sisters” as it were it was rather an unusual but not unpleasant experience.
Spent Christmas money on a “snow leopard” jacket, it was on sale at the Bay. I love it, so soft and warm. A little flashy with a bright pink lining but it does match the black and white interior of my Eldorado (if I ever get her on the road). I have a sneaking suspicion that it may be faux snow leopard.
The horrible cold weather keeps reminding me of that black day in early February 1959. A little early for the predictable annular remembrance, his music should be enjoyed all the time. Here is a spirited version of Oh Boy by the Stray Cats:
Been burning the candle at both ends again and am totally beat today. Emergency trip to Starbucks was called for as I felt myself nodding off on the way to work. Not good as I no longer have a death wish.
If seems if my last music pick to click caused some controversy. Time to mellow out with some obscure but smokin' vintage 1965 soul from Marjorie Black, "One More Hurt".
Ms. Black if that is her real name is lost in the mists of time with this amazing single being her only known recording.
The photo is of the lovely Jayne Mansfield behind the wheel of a 59 Cadillac Eldorado. There are also photos of her driving a 59 series 62 convertible Cadillac (a personal favorite of mine....my second car).
I have since my teens considered my spiritual home the United States. It was the first place my parents and I set foot in the New World. Getting off a ship in New York like countless immigrants before them. I studied American history at university, follow US politics closely and have made my pilgrimage to the battlefields of the Civil War.
As a child we would take long driving vacations across the American west (where we would drive and drive, then drive some more….sorry an inside family joke). I loved those trips and fell in love with the history and the land.
I grew up in Canada (where I still live and am thankful I do) and spent a number of years at school in England, the land of my birth. I believe I can even claim to be a true Cockney, having been born within the sound of Bow Bells. At school my “accent” marked me as a Yank and by default I was often called upon to defend American foreign policy. So just as in matters of gender, I was equally confused as to my nationality.
It is a difficult time for the West as the impermeable Cold War world of my youth continues to change and mutate. The freedoms we enjoy are constantly under threat from within and without. As a history buff we would do well to remember where we come from and the rich traditions that made both nations the light and envy of the world.
In that spirit let me share some personal British ancestral history, both examples involving some fancy foot work.
One Madame Sismondi, ballet mistress and co-founder of the original Tiller Girls in the 1890s. The Tiller girls were a famous high kicking dance troupe that was in existence until the eighties also a big influence on the Rockettes.
Dutch Sam and Young Dutch Sam. A member of the International Boxing Hall of Fame, Dutch Sam (1775 – 1816) came from the Whitechapel area of London. Nicknamed “The Star of the East” as well as the less politically correct, “The Terrible Jew”, what he liked bacon sandwiches?
Inventor of the uppercut with a history of approximately 100 bouts, losing only twice, at the time most boxers fought 20-25 matches in a career. His power was legendary and he was considered one of the hardest hitters of all time.
His son, Young Dutch Sam, was also a good puncher and very exciting fighter, had a noteworthy career in the 1820s.
My brother brought this tune to my attention, Resistance 77 with Spirit of St. George. I love it, makes me want to buy a Jensen Interceptor and drive down the high street to get some fish & chips.
