The old mood

There is something to be said for “old saying”. I was talking to this father at school before the holidays. He was telling me that he was having a hard time giving his daughter a merry Christmas, being too proud to take a hand out I could only give him “Chinese fortune cookie” advice. I asked him to remember his childhood memories of his parents, “How many of those memories involve things? What were the most expensive presents you received? The reality is that we remember moments more than money.” I told him if he took the time to bake Christmas cookies with his daughter she would remember that longer than if you got her everything on her Christmas list. On our day back to school the girl came back from Christmas break with a bag of cookies for me and a note from her dad thanking me. All she could talk about was the fun she had with her daddy during her break.
As I think back on working at the bar all I can remember is all the good times. Today the customers at the bar take it for granted that gay is accepted, in my day no one knew what gay was. There was no “Will and Grace”, there were no advocates fighting for our rights. We were the ones making the first foot paths in a snow filled road that went high into the clouds. There weren’t any rest stops once you started that walk and the road had no promises or guarantees. I met many evil people during that climb and just as many wonderful people. It wasn’t until recently that I turned and realized that my struggles made the path easier for others.
There are many roads ahead of us, but the cause is gaining so many supporters. I can’t remember how many guys I had staying with me because they had nowhere to go. So many parents disowned their children because of whom they chosen to love. It was insane.
I remember the first time I stepped into the bar I knew I belonged. I knew I finally found home. After so many years of confusing detours and trying so hard to fit my round personality into a square shaped life I had finally found hope. Hope – my favorite word, as long as you have hope you are never hopeless. Feathers gave me hope. Feathers gave me friends. Feathers gave me my sanity back.
My first job at the bar was stamping hands at the front door. I would sit in this throne-like chair by the ticket booth and stamped the customers hand. I was nick-named , “The Countessa”. People would enter and stop in front of my throne and turn their wrist for me to stamp. It was quite a royal position. The assistant manager-oe, gave me the nick-name. He was a fun loving pervert. He was an old man after the young boys; the funny part is that I am older now than he was then. We shared a few tender moments and I believe he had my back on more than one occasion.
Those stories and more will follow soon…
Till Tomorrow-be kind