LGBT for Obama

I'm supporting Obama because I'm tired of living in a world of fear that transcends my sexuality. If we can't have basic respect for each other in our community, how can we build a world of loving respect around the world? I have hope that Obama will bring about the change I can believe in.

Twittering

Spotted at the Airport

• A blind "Hartsfield Host". He approached me while I was eating my black bean soup in a bread bowl at Atlanta Bread Company, of course not making eye contact. I know he didn't see me, so I wasn't sure if I should say "hello", or if that would invade his privacy. I thought he might sit down at my table and join me, so I wasn't really sure what to say. If he doesn't know I'm there, am I there? And what's wrong with someone sharing my table, even though there are thirty empty tables? "What's this?" he asked. I explained he was at the Atlanta Bread Company, assuming he didn't see my black bean soup on a bread bowl, and the question was directed more at the overall atmosphere. "What do they serve?" he asked. I indicated sandwiches and soups. "Not what I want," he said, spinngin around and following his cane across the atrium.
  
• Groupies hanging out in the parking deck, swigging back beers.

Is This My Bus?

I feel as if I've just hopped on a bus that stopped right in front of me. I didn't see the number, and I didn't catch the destination, and I've never met the driver before. But somehow, I feel confident in his experience, and that he wants me on board. He knows I'll not only enjoy the ride, but I'll add to it. And as I sit down and look at my unfamiliar surroundings, I see some faces I recognize. The faces of David Sadaris, and Dan Savage. There is Colin Campbell, Jonathan Nicholas, Dave Berry. And they talk about when Mike Royko and Lewis Grizzard were around. The good ol' days. The classic days. And everyone on this bus is laughing and chatting, and pointing out the absurdities in life. They point out the joys and the sorrows. And, the bus driver turns around and says, "You remember Lewis Grizzard? This new guy is the next one. He's going to take his place." The driver is held in such high regard, there is no question, and there is a collective, "Great! Welcome!" And before I could blink an eye, I've become one of them. A vagabond on an unknown journey. An interpreter of sites yet to be seen. And while I'm welcomed, I'm the new person, still unknown. Discovered, but unknown.

Working Out

Resonance

The trouble with affirmations is they become rules, rather than resonance. Feel the resonance of courage. The resonance of joy, and love. You can’t touch it, but you can live in it.

From Maureen

"Why can't I live my live with Ease and Elegance?"

What's In a Name?

I've been called Timmy, Tim, and Timothy. Timmy when I was in kindergarten, and when I learned to write it, I spelled it TimmY with a capital 'Y'. Then I'd outline my entire name in a box, only broken by the Y, where I'd put loops presenting the appearance of a nicely wrapped gift package. In the neighborhood I was known as "Little Tim" because there was "Big Tim" down the street. When I entered First Grade, I announced that I would no longer be known as "Little Tim", but rather, I was to be called "Medium Tim". "Medium Tim" didn't last long, and I quickly became just "Tim".

I was known as Tim forever. Then, in college, my application had "Timothy State" on it, so people began calling me "Timothy." Except for the Director of Financial Aid, he started calling me "Timmy". There was this popular resurgence, like all of a sudden sideburns were back, in referring to me as "Timmy".

Then I got an internship and did a lot of phone work. People mutilated my name. They heard "Kim State", "Ken Spate", "Jim Slate" - you name it, so to speak. And when they did get my first name right, they couldn't believe my last name is really "State". "Like Georgia," I now say. "Oh, okay. State."