Starting Anew with Punk

30 06 2019

The crash changed everything in our lives. Slowly we are putting the pieces back together.

The response from the community to our needs has been great. I remain grateful for each day and understand complaining does little good. That’s not to say there are no difficulties, but dwelling on the bad is not where I want to be.

It’s been a year now in the city.

Since coming to Portland I have learned a great deal about new cultures. Take for instance the punk, grunge rockers — a species of humans that never seemed to exist when we were in south Florida.

Some are millennials and some are still standing from the often overlooked Gen X.

And then there’s a whole new batch just outta high school that I’m not sure what to make of.

What I do know is I have fallen under another obsession spell. Not sure who cast it but they are obviously strong and worthy. The spell’s hold, I am finding, is harder to break with each passing day.

I’ve been infatuated before — notably Alabama ballet dancers & Miami bad boys — but this is entirely different ground. This one plays in a band. A petit transgender chick. MTF. She’s a Jewish girl from the South, who like me, is living on the west coast for the first time. She wears glasses thick as coke bottles, has pierced nostrils and tattoos on her thighs.

Far from the shallow

We work together which makes things complicated. I sought her help early when confronted by street harassment and rude customers. She was supportive. Intrigued I went to a couple of her band’s shows and discovered she played the bass and had a partner. David, seeing me fall under this trance before, warned me to keep my distance.

And I have, respecting the professional boundaries of our workplace and our relationships. The last thing in the world I want is to make someone I admire uncomfortable, particularly when that someone is doing remarkable things.

Rebuilding a life is no small task. Going through the process of transitioning genders, in my humble opinion, must be a super challenging thing to do. I’m not certain what it has been like for them, quite frankly I have been too scared to ask. I wonder about their moral core. I wonder if the doom music and denim jackets is a cover for a deeper spiritual awakening that is taking place.

I wonder if they are good kissers.

As we enter our second year in the Pacific Northwest — with a Presidential campaign on the horizon — I hope my muse can lead to more discoveries of what this community stands for & against. What do they care about? What is important in their lives and how do they make it happen?

For me it’s baby steps. I am striving to put the trauma of the wreck and to a lesser extent our cross country move behind me. Life is different now. It’s not easy starting over again.

Before friends come allies.

I sure hope Madeline is one of them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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