Today at the Grocer…

I was walking down the frozen aisle and saw a little girl, oh, 3 or so, wearing 5 or 6 headbands at one time.  I thought it bold, and the kind of out-of-the-box thinking that should be rewarded with some verbal affirmation.  And so this:

Me: I love your headbands; they’re totally working.

Her (scowling): You’re a boy.

Me (pleased): Thank you.


And the last customer interaction of the day:

Eli and an older gentleman go for the same opening in an otherwise very crowded aisle. Both of us stop, to allow the other to pass.

Older Gentleman: Oh, excuse me miss, I mean sir.

Me (walking through the opening): No problem.


So there you have it: children and the elderly, per usual, get it.

Be nice to yourselves,
Your Pal Eli

My Dad Just Called Me…

And the following conversation took place:

Me: Hello?

Dad: Hi sweetie.

Me: Hey Dad.

Dad: Did you hear about what the supreme court just decided in that case in Massachusetts?

Me: No, about what?

Dad: About that prisoner–

Me: What are you talking about?

Dad: In Massachusetts they just decided the system has to pay for an inmates sex change surgery.

Me: Well, they have state-mandated health insurance in Mass, and so the state should pay for this prisoner’s health care.

Dad: Well, if I was a tax payer in Massachusetts I would be pretty pissed off.

Me: Why?

Dad: Because that’s not a necessary medical treatment.

Me: Dad, gender reassignment surgery is absolutely medically necessary.  Many people commit suicide over the disconnect they feel between their brain and their body.

Dad: Well, I don’t understand it.

Me: Absolutely, you don’t understand it, many people don’t, and that’s why there needs to be more education on it.

Then dad changed the subject to some other political thing he wanted to be pissed about.


And then I praised myself for not hanging up on the bigot.  I know this was his way of trying to connect with me, of trying to raise the topic.  I choose to believe this was his way of reaching out, to try to understand.  But he clearly wasn’t even listening to the shit coming out of his mouth.  He scoffed at the decision to pay for the procedure, and relayed it to me as though I would be on his side.  Are you fucking kidding me?  DON’T YOU REMEMBER YOUR KID TELLING YOU HE WAS TRANS AND HE HAD A FUCKING SURGERY TO REMOVE HIS TITS?

Dumb motherfucker.  I’m sorry to say it like that, but I’m pissed and this is my blog.  So fuck that shit.

After I’m done being angry, I’m going to look up some books to buy him for Christmas. Months ago I sent him email resources he chose to ignore.  But I don’t feel like giving up yet, especially since he tried to “reach out” to me today.

Even when it’s hard, try to be nice to yourselves,
Your Pal Eli