I turned thirty a few months ago, and I’ve had a hard time with it. I don’t mourn the loss of my youth—I know LOTS of folks who are youthful and vigorous in their forties—I just had a nagging sense of wonderment. I wondered when I grew up. I am still sometimes shocked that I am an adult. I’ve been one for twelve years already (at least legally, on paper), but I’ve never taken myself seriously. I still feel like I’m doing something wrong when I go into a liquor store… I’m usually pretty sure they are going to ask me to leave. I also feel strange traveling. Make no mistake. By the time I was eighteen, I was a pro at airports. Because of our school schedules, my sister and I flew to join my parents on vacation when I was only 16. We drove to the airport, got on a plane in Houston, and flew to California, all without any parental oversight at all. This was not uncommon for me, nor was it very heroic, but I STILL think it was pretty cool, and that was almost half my lifetime ago. For some reason, whenever I travel, make a major purchase, or any other really “adult-type thing,” I feel like a little kid, that I don’t belong doing what I’m doing. I literally can’t believe they are letting me spend grown-up amounts of money, or letting me be responsible for thier car or hotel room. I AM a bit more comfortable being a grown up than I used to be. As I grow older, I think folks take me much more seriously than they did in the past, and I likewise take myself more seriously. It’s one of the privileges of growing older, I guess. There’s got to be SOME kind of good to come from it, because I am sometimes SO STIFF when I get out of bed in the morning, and I find myself requiring more sleep than I used to. Mom says that gets much worse. YUCK! At least I’ll be taken seriously when I complain about it.

Another site note: At the end of every post, there is now the opportunity to post your thoughts to my Dreambook. This is exciting, in that it give you, the reader, the chance to talk back to me. I hope you take advantage of this, because I really like what everyone has to say. I'm trying to get more elegant with my HTML skill, but it's a process, and thanks for bearing with me. I look forward to reading what you have to say.

Hey there, loyal readers! This is a little article that Kim Holzer published over at her site a couple of weeks ago. I hope you like it. Kim edited it a bit, and did a great job. Thanks, Kim!

I spent the weekend around gay people. Even better, I spent the weekend in Oak Lawn, the gay part of Dallas. I know that since I am a gay person, this might not be entirely shocking, but it was different this weekend. For those of you who may not know, most major cities have some part of town that has a concentration of businesses and establishments that cater to gay people. I like such areas because when I am there, I don't feel as “different” as I do when I am in mixed company.

My first few visits to places that were predominately gay, such as community centers and (yes Mom) bars, were very freeing and liberating. I felt as if I had found my people. I still remember how good it felt to find a place where I belonged. If I thought a guy was cute, I could say so to my new friends, and they would agree with me, instead of running me out of town with torches. I learned a lot about myself, and what it meant to be gay. In short, I came out.

I have always liked visiting gay areas. The term gay ghetto is an anachronism. Since they are usually near downtown, the real estate in such areas has become very desirable and expensive. Contrary to popular belief, there aren’t just bars in such a part of town. There are plenty of those, but often a community center and a bevy of restaurants and little shops that sell things like highly attractive decorative accessories and tacky, tacky disco clothes. These shops and eateries are usually fun to browse and get in a good dose of people watching. Larger cities with populations over a million or so have grocery stores and chain retailers, usually a Target, in the gay areas. During the eighties, the rise of HIV and AIDS prompted the opening of doctor's offices, clinics and pharmacies in the gay areas. The more-pleasant nineties also saw the addition of gay-focused bookshops and coffeehouses, as well. In short, larger cities have a little self-contained community just for gay people and the people who love them.

When I lived in Dallas, I would sometimes catch myself not leaving Oak Lawn for months at a time. It was my home; my friends, job and church were all there. I had no reason to leave, so I didn't.

Last year, I moved back to my hometown of 15,000 people, and the closest thing we have to a gay part of town is my apartment. I miss my friends, but I didn't realize until this weekend that I missed Oak Lawn, too. It was nice not to have to watch what I say and do. I miss the unspoken camaraderie that exists. I'm not saying that life in Oak Lawn is entirely wonderful. In fact, there is a larger than average crime rate and it's not the cheapest place to live, but it was home for me and my friends. Some may say that increasing acceptance of gay people has rendered such areas obsolete. Indeed, there is an increasing trend to locate bars and businesses well into the suburbs. I think this is good thing, and I support it. But it's still fun to go to our own little de-militarized zone and hold hands with another boy while I'm shopping for tacky, tacky disco clothes and sipping overpriced coffee.

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