A Mile in Her Bat-shoes

I have never appreciated a pair of shoes as much as I did today when I put on my cross-trainers. This past weekend was the annual Halloween celebration, and per tradition I went in drag. I don’t mind the wig, make up, and clothes-- but women’s shoes suck. A lesbian friend of mine told me once that women’s shoes were a joke played by gay men on straight women for the benefit of straight men. I don’t think I fully understood what she meant until I put a pair of heels on for myself. It’s amazing how something so pleasing to the male eye can be so displeasing to the female (or male!) foot. The irony is that now some gay men will have to wear these same shoes if they want to be effective drag queens. Karma is a bitch with sore feet.

The costume itself turned out pretty well. I went as Batwoman. The original Batwoman was created by DC Comics in the 1950’s to quell rumors that Batman and Robin were lovers. By the 1970’s, DC apparently felt that the Dynamic Duo’s heterosexuality had been established, so they killed her off (another straight woman sacrificed once she’d outlived her usefulness to straight men—I guess her high heeled boots weren’t punishment enough). Gotham City had to carry on without a Batwoman until last year when DC Comics revived her as a lipstick lesbian, possibly related to the original character.

I was striving for the look of the contemporary Batwoman—black leather pants, long red hair, black cape—but even with these accoutrements the costume had a campy 1960’s feel to it (perhaps because I was a 41 year old man dressing as a 28 year old superheroine!). No worries, though. When you stand 6’10” in heels nobody is going to laugh in your face. And even though most people weren’t familiar with the character, I somehow felt that if Batwoman were out there, she would’ve appreciated the homage. Just as I now appreciate the difficulty of battling crime in uncomfortable shoes.

*If you’re really curious to see the pictures, they are at www.myspace.com/branchula under the “my pics” section.

Reclaiming the Work Week

I just got my first paying “non-dentist” gig! I have been retained by a non-profit group here in Charlotte to update their website. A friend of mine put me in touch with the group, and after a few informal meetings I was given essentially a shoe-box full of news clippings and internal memos from which I am to generate a narrative of what the group has been doing these last few years.

It has been such a change of pace from my clinical job. First of all it’s nice to walk into a room and have people be genuinely glad to see me. In dentistry, even the nicest patients are a bit tense when I’m present because they know at some point I’m going to pick up something sharp and stick it in their mouth! Happily I didn’t have to do that once with the non-profit group, and from their demeanor I think they appreciated that fact. Secondly, it was refreshing to get to use a different part of my brain. Dentistry is a lot of analysis, very mechanical, and confined to a decidedly small space. Going through the information given to me by the non-profit group involved more synthesis—taking the information, sorting through it, and putting the essentials into narrative form. And what a luxury to be able to spread out over my entire coffee table! I’m not sure if it’s the novelty, or if I could really do this for a living—but for now I’m having a good time.

The one thing I’ve noticed is that it’s been very difficult to fit a career back into my life. I’ve been unemployed now for two months, and somehow have managed to fill up my days without the encumbrance of a job. I heard somewhere that goldfish grow to fit whatever size environment they are placed in. If they are kept in a small tank, they stay small. If they are put into a pond, however, they can grow to be quite large. I believe that is how I have approached my life. When I was working 40 hours a week, I kept side projects to a minimum. Now that I have all this additional time—I have been able to tackle several tasks. I’ve redone the closets in my bedroom, drawn up a 5-page Emergency Plan for a performance theater of which I am a board member, and updated all the software on my lap-top. And those iTunes songs didn’t download themselves! It’s been a busy time, and trying to fit a job back into the mix is going to be very difficult. For the benefit of a paycheck, however, I think I’ll make the effort. I just have to figure out how to shrink a goldfish.

Sex & the Single Blogger

I had a date this week! Technically it was a first date, but there is some history I should explain. I met this gentleman at a party a few nights ago through some mutual friends. This is always a good way to meet a romantic prospect, because if you have friends in common most likely the gentleman is not a serial killer. Anyway, we hit it off at the party, had a few drinks and then he ended up spending the night at my place. The next day I drove him home, and we traded phone numbers. We traded a few text messages during the week, and tonight we had our first date.

This is not the way they explained dating in Phys Ed class back in middle school, nor do I think Emily Post or Miss Manners would approve, but for me it is a good system. I don't pursue all relationships in this manner, nor am I recommending it to others. I am simply saying the few times it has worked out this way it takes some of the pressure off. Again, I hold my overactive brain accountable. Dating in the traditional manner is very stressful psychologically (for me, at least). Being gay I get the double whammy of having the traditional male nagging questions and the traditional female nagging questions. On the male side we have:
“When should I make a move?”
“Do I stop with just a kiss, or should I go for more?”
“If I go for more, will he think I’m a horn-dog?”
“If I don’t go for more, will he think I’m straight?”

On the female side we have:
"How provocatively can I dress without looking slutty?"
"If I go all the way does that make me easy?”
“If I don’t go all the way does that make me a tease?”

I find myself unable to enjoy the first date and pay attention to the conversation because all of these questions are running through my head.

If you’ve already had sex with the person--suddenly you’re relieved of all these persistent doubts. You know the sex was decent enough for both parties to return for a second encounter. Now all you have to do is figure out if there’s enough there to build a relationship upon. Even then, the pressure is off. If you hit it off with the person--that’s fabulous! You now have a boyfriend. If you don’t--you can go your separate ways if you like, or perhaps just keep them on speed dial as a potential boink buddy.

I’m happy to say the first date went very well. A second date has been scheduled, and we'll take it from there. Now the only nagging question on my mind is, if this works out in the long-term, which day do I use to calculate our anniversaries????

Flawed Focus

So I got some disturbing news this past week. I went in for my annual eye exam and was informed that I now need bifocals. BIFOCALS!!!! The spectre of my mortality is now standing right in front of me--although apparently I won’t be able to see it without prescription lenses. Personally I blame dentistry. I was perfectly fine when I started dental school 17 years ago.

I went ahead and ordered some new lenses, but frankly I’m not sure I will wear them. I’m not convinced I really want razor sharp vision. What if, in His infinite wisdom and mercy, it is part of God’s plan for our eyesight to fail as we age? At least that way we can’t see the ravages of time upon our bodies. Do we really want 20/20 vision to behold every wrinkle, grey hair, and extra pound as they appear?

I remember when high definition televisions first came out. All of the display models at the electronics stores were playing a looped video of fish swimming, and the picture was so clear it looked like the televisions were aquariums. Amazing. But then you got home with the new tv and began watching your favorite shows. Suddenly every blemish on the face of your favorite celebrity was visible. It’s shocking the first time you see it. The celebrities of a certain age seem to suffer the most. Nobody over the age of 30 needs a high definition camera pointed at them.

You have to wonder what this will do for the careers of television personalities. When the movie industry made the transition from silent films to “talkies” there was a percentage of stars who did not survive the switch. They were incredibly photogenic but did not have speaking voices to match their faces. The movie “Singing in the Rain” tells this story in a funny and entertaining manner, but it was a tragedy to the celebrities who suddenly found themselves without a forum for their talent. As public demand for beautiful celebrities increases, and technological advances are making it more and more difficult to hide one’s flaws--who will be left to stand in front of the cameras?

The answer lies with the audience--either the audience will be willing to accept their celebrities with a few zits and wrinkles, or the audience will reject any flawed icons and only worship those who are, or appear to be, perfect. I hate to say it, but I think I know what the answer will be. Once I get my bifocals, I’ll be looking at zits and wrinkles in the mirror every day. That’s hard enough to accept. I don’t know if I have it in myself to also accept a ridiculously overpaid celebrity with zits and wrinkles too. I want my tv set to be the one place I can look and have a flawless face staring back at me.