Tag: coming out

New Women

Scanning the news in transgender America lately, it has been impossible to avoid the story of punk artist Tom Gabel coming out…not that I know who Tom Gabel is.

Let’s face it, I’m an old fogey now.  At 64 years of age, punk was never something on my radar.

Apparently Gabel is lead singer for a band called Against Me!.  The punctuation is apparently part of the name (which makes the punctuation at the end of the previous sentence questionable).

The following is an acoustic version of the band’s song, The Ocean:

And if I could have chosen, I would have been born a woman

My mother once told me she would have named me Laura

I’d grow up to be strong and beautiful like her

Gabel has chosen to come out very publicly, in the next edition of Rolling Stone magazine, which came out today (May 11).  Gabel plans to begin living as a woman and will eventually take the name Laura Jane Grace.  She plans to begin hormone therapy and electrolysis soon.  

She also plans to remain married to her wife, Heather.  That would, of course, depend upon the state in which they live and whether they would try to intervene…and whether Heather still feels like that after going through transition with Laura.

Sometimes people change.

Friday Philosophy: progress report

I spent the morning and afternoon trapped in my apartment as workers painted the stairwell which leads to the only exit from the building.  The paint fumes were probably consuming my brain cells.  I  sacrificed brain cells in better ways when I was younger.

I had hoped to write about an attempt to save what has come to be called McClellan Forest in West Orange, NJ on the site of land once belonging to Major General George Brinton McClellan, organizer of the Army of the Potomac during the Civil War…and former Governor of New Jersey.

Whether anyone has a positive or negative opinion of McClellan is irrelevant.  What is relevant are the 250 year old trees…and the resolve the Archdiocese of Newark has to replace the forest with athletic fields to honor the current headmaster of Seton Hall Prep.

But the files I wanted have not as yet arrived from the woman from the Sierra Club who spoke about the efforts on Tuesday.

So I had to come up with something else for tonight.  Maybe the 8 by 10 glossies and maps will arrive before next Friday.

Then I realized it was October 9…one day after another anniversary of THAT day.  And I realized that Sunday is National Coming Out Day.  Maybe it is time for another progress report.

Friday Philosophy: Choosing to become an old woman

September 30, 1992:

  • Mariel Hemingway appears nude on the TV show Civil Wars.
  • George Brett gets 4 hits to raise his total to 3000.
  • Hurricane Bonnie dissipated (a private irony).
  • University mathematics professor begins transition in rural Arkansas.

It was a very difficult decision.  And at the same time, it was a very easy one.

Time to Come Out of the Closet

Warning to All Pony Lovers: this may upset you, a LOT!

It may make you want to tar, feather,and banish me forever.

But I cannot pretend any longer.

I don’t like Ponys.

They scare the HELL outa me.

I have Pony PTDS.

And very time I post a comment, someone gives me (shudder) MORE ponies.

I don’t know what to do.

I am also scared to death of HORSES, and the mere thought of running into a (cringe) UNICORN, makes my teeth chatter, even if they’re not in my mouth at the time.

I wasn’t born this way. Once upon a time, I even asked Santa to BRING me a Pony.

I was really pissed when he didn’t.  

I wasn’t born scared of ponies. Or horses.

But that was before I met one of each in person.

My kids wanted a pony. I bought one for them and that’s how I met “Puffin”, the Pony from Hell.

He was one of those pretty miniature ponies. I’d seen some dogs as big as that pony , so I wasn’t a bit scared of him, besides I probably weighed more than HE did.  The guy showed me how to put a bridle and saddle on him. Puffin stood there so patient and docile, such a sweet, gentle boy. With his owner leading, he gave both of my little girls their very first pony ride around our yard. I was so happy! I never got my own pony, but I got one for them and it felt like some long awaited victory!

Then the guy turned him loose in my small fenced in pasture, and left. They were moving out of state the next day.  Later that day, sugar cubes and apples in hand, I went out to get acquainted with Puffin by myself. Being a city girl, I wondered how you call a pony: do you whistle? Say “Here, Pony! Here, Pony?” What?

Puffin finally wandered over to the fence where I was. I held out the sugar cubes. He just looked at them and snorted.  The apple, then? Same thing. He sniffed it, snorted, shook his head then  went right back to standing stock still, staring me right in the eye with a distinctly UNFRIENDLY stare. I gingerly offered the apple again..at which time he dropped his head, knocked the apple to the ground, BIT MY HAND ,then walked a few steps off,turned his back and took a big crap.  

Now I am not stupid. I can read non verbal cues. This pony definitely did NOT like me.

To make a long story short, over the next month I must have run ten thousand miles around that pasture trying to catch that damned pony, to no avail. More than once he turned the tables and chased ME with those big teeth bared! Nothing worked. I made sure he was well fed, well watered, had good shelter and endless treats, all of which he rejected in favor of another bite of my hand.  I spent countless hours sitting by the fence, using my most persuasive communication skills to win his trust, but he’d just stand there munching grass and pooping as if I didn’t exist. Meanwhile, I’m  trying to explain to two tearful little girls that Mommy just can’t CATCH their pony, so they could ride it. Having to look at a pony they could not ride became just too much, SO I found another good home for Puffin, who, it eventually turned out, simply hated women, but not men.

As for HORSES, meet Diamond, a Tennesee Walker, about 16 hands high.  I rented the pasture to his owner, who was flat out determined to teach me to ride a horse. Diamond was gentle, he said, no reason to be afraid of good ol Diamond!  Oh, hell no!  The minute I climbed up onto his back, he reared up, took off like a bat outa hell, and threw me hard into the creek! Dislocated shoulder. Nice horse, that ol Diamond.

So there, now I’ve done it.

I have outed my self as non-pony-lover.

I am aware this may be grounds for banning.

Just please don’t give me any more ponies.

give them to each other instead.