Homemade Art

The new flannel sheets I bought for my bed came in this cool rectangular packaging, and when I took them out of the package, I was delighted to see that the box kept its form.

Now I have this cool, see-through aquarium of air that I've put in front of my window.


I have no idea what to do with it, but I just like having it there. It's fun to look at. Isn't that what art is?

Competitive Advantage?

Because it had the keyword "tennis" in its description, my TiVo recorded an ESPN documentary on Renee Richards, the tennis playing transsexual from the 70's.


So I watched it and I'd like to talk about it. But before I discuss the film itself, let me explain my general attitude toward gender reassignment, so that I can make my biases known up front.

As much as I'm an advocate for LGBT rights, I have to admit that I have a blind spot for the "T" part. Don't get me wrong: I am pro-choice on this issue. I don't want to deny anyone the right to change their gender, nor do I think they should be discriminated against because of it.


But, unlike with homosexuality, which is simply about allowing people to love who they love, it's harder for me to grasp and sympathize with the issues behind changing one's gender. It involves uncomfortable issues (to me) like an entirely new identity, hormone injections, invasive surgery, denying your history, and challenging your genetic code (XY vs. XX.)

I can accept that although these things scare me personally, there are people who are so miserable in the body they were born in that they embrace such changes. So I'm learning more about the issue and trying to be more open-minded.

It was with this attitude that I watched Renee, a documentary produced by ESPN. I tend to think of ESPN as a pretty testosterone-driven network, so I was surprised to see them tackling such a progressive topic.

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The central question of the film is whether Renee Richards, after undergoing gender reassignment, should have been allowed to compete in professional women's tennis in 1976. Would a man who becomes a woman have too much of a competitive advantage playing against women?


I know this question is a political minefield, with lots of implications beyond competition and tennis, but at face value the answer seems obvious to me: Of course she would have a competitive advantage. For the first 40 years of her life, Richards had played men's tennis in a man's body. She was 6'2", with broad shoulders, large hands, and size 12 feet. I suppose we could get mired in a discussion on what exactly the rationale is for separating men's and women's tennis, but I assume it's because men have, on average, bigger and stronger bodies.

In the documentary, tennis legend Billie Jean King says she talked to experts about gender reassignment, and they said it's really the hormones (testosterone/estrogen) that separate the men from the women. And now that Richards was receiving estrogen treatments, it made her body more like that of a woman's. But still, her body was built by testosterone, wasn't it? Even if it wasn't using it anymore?

To me, what makes the answer to the "competitive advantage" question obvious is that Richards was a 42-year-old amateur playing in the U.S. Open. Do you know how hard it is to make it to the U.S. Open? Most amateurs and pros who dedicate their entire lives to tennis don't make it there, not even in the prime of their game.

And here was a practicing doctor, not a professional tennis player (although she had been one of the best amateur players in the country in her 20's), who had not seriously competed in years and suddenly burst on the scene in middle age and could compete with the best players in the world? After having undergone a very traumatic physical transformation? Many in the documentary talked about what a competitive disadvantage this was, and I agree, which paradoxically just proves that she must have had a natural advantage. It's hard for me to imagine any "natural" woman could have come back to the game at such an age and been so competitive.

At the end of the movie, Richards herself even seems to admit that might not have been fair.

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I appreciate how difficult it must have been for Richards to give up her whole life and identity in order to be true to herself. She gave up a wife, young son, and successful medical career, moved across the country, and became a different person. But does being sensitive to that issue mean it's fair to let her compete in professional tennis against women? Does my answer to that question have to hinge on whether I support LGBT issues?

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Overall, I enjoyed the film for bringing up these thorny questions. Some other issues it brings up:

In the very first scene of the movie, Richard's older sister refers to her as "him." When the interviewer asks her sister about this, she says (of Renee), "He's my little brother. He'll always be my little brother." Renee says the male pronouns don't bother her, but her sister is the only person in the world for whom that's the case. (Kind of like how my sisters are the only people who can still call me "Timmy" and it doesn't sound weird.)

Richards' son, who was four when his dad moved away and became a woman, is about my age and seems to have a lot of resentment toward his parent. (Curiously, Richards never uses the word "mom" or "dad" to describe herself in the movie, just "parent.") In the documentary, her son is a troubled, drug-addled loser who looks and talks like Michael Stipe of REM.

Curiously, I couldn't find an online picture of her son to put here. I wanted to show how he looks like Michael Stipe. I guess it's good that the interwebs, so far, are respecting his privacy.

Richards has been living with a female partner for many years now. But their relationship is completely asexual. Ironically, when she was a man, Renee was quite the rake. She says that since she became a woman, she doesn't have the passion for men like she had a passion for women when she was a man. "I lost that," she says.

Overall, the tone of the movie was sad. It's not a happy, triumphant, or inspirational story. So often when you hear of gay people coming out or transgender people... um... transitioning (? Not trying to be cute here, I just don't know what the proper verb is), they talk of how happy and fulfilled they are now that they can be themselves. I don't get that impression from Richards, at least not through this movie. Maybe that's a fault of the film, or maybe it's an accurate interpretation. At the very end of the movie, Renee's son uses the phrase "torment and happiness" to describe her.

I'm 40

They say that as you get older, time goes faster.

I can certainly attest to that. Since I turned 40 (less than two weeks ago), my life has been a whirlwind of activity. I haven't even had a chance to blog about my birthday til now. Middle Age is exhausting.

Why does Google images give me pictures of old people when I search "middle age"? This image was titled "Middle age couple." Really? Are they from a place where people routinely live to 120?

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I'm 40 now. Timageddon came and went. The sun still rises and sets according to the predictable motions of the heavenly spheres. I get up every day and do the same things I did just before I was 40. My mind is still sharp. My body is still strong. (Except for this weird sinusy almost-cold thing I've had for a week, which won't bloom into a full-fledged sickness but also won't go away. I swear, I've spent half of my 40's being almost sick.)

Okay, so my body isn't THAT strong.

After much existential angst, I decided to make a Big Deal out of my 40th birthday. When's the next time in my life I'll be able to get a bunch of people to pay attention to me? So I took the 40 theme and ran with it.

I had a cookout party at my brother's large house and yard the night before my birthday. I called it The Night Before Timageddon and I invited everyone who might possibly come, and many who wouldn't.

Not my cookout

In all, 29 people showed up (including kids), and as far I as I know, they had a good time.

My sister-in-law came up with the idea of having everyone bring 40 of something, so I received:

• 40 Little Debbie cakes
• 40 sparklers
• 40 tiny candy bars
• 40 random unpaired objects from someone's house (most of them socks-- I was mostly shocked that any one house could have so many lost socks)
  
• My poet friends wrote 40 phrases (fun/nonsensical/tim-related) that had never been used effectively in a poem.
  
• Other people brought things like coffee mugs and cupcakes, but not 40 of them.
  
• My paramedic friend had to leave the party early for his night shift, but promised to save someone's life in my honor. So I have that going for me.

My 40's of things

My sister read out a list of 40 memories she had of me, which was perhaps the highlight of the evening. Most of the memories were already a part of family lore-- stories I'd heard and talked about for years and years. But a few of them were new to me, like the fact that I wore braces on my legs when I was a toddler. Like Forrest Gump!


Of course, someone had to bring a "40" of Miller High Life. (I.e. a 40-ounce bottle of it.) I'd already drank three (good high-quality) beers before that, so downing the 40 was quite a challenge.

That's not apple juice.

But I wasn't going to let 40 beat me. I finished it.

(no picture available)

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When I first woke up as a 40-year-old man, at 4:30 in the morning, I felt like absolute crap. But after re-hydrating and getting some more sleep, I felt much better and ready to tackle the new decade.

First project of the new era? Paint my living room.

I'd been meaning to paint the main wall in my living room for a while now. Since my brother, sister, and mom were still in town, I asked them to lend their expertise, consultation, and labor to help with this project.

We went with a dark red, maroon-ish color that matches the new dark green (sage) couch I bought last spring. We did the main wall where the fireplace and mantle is, and which the couch faces, so it's the wall I look at the most.

The area of my wall I look at the most. Probably because it's over that big rectangular device-- my movin' picture box.

Birthday cards on the mantle.

My sister also convinced me to paint the adjacent wall, which has a big archway that leads into the dining room.


She said the arch was begging to be painted. She'd had her eye on it since I first bought the house. It was ripe for the painting. Because I'm an agreeable little brother, I was fine with that.

The unpainted wall

New coat rack my mom got me for my birthday

We finished both coats in one day, and now I have a beautiful new red living room.

Cat sold separately

For a new decade.

Not Mindy Kaling's Type

If you watch The Office, you know Mindy Kaling. Not only does she play Kelly Kapoor on the show, she's also a writer and producer. And she's adorable.


The fact that she was a writer and producer of the show always made me think that her portrayal of Kelly Kapoor was brilliant satire-- that she was lambasting a shallow, immature chatterbox who only cares about shopping, landing a husband, and gossip.


I love good satire, and this made me love her all the more.

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So I was excited when I was going through a catalog at work and saw that Kaling has written a nonfiction book. I absolutely had to order this for our leisure-reading collection.


Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me (And Other Concerns) is the title, and you can read excerpts from it here: http://www.scribd.com/doc/56238687/Is-Everyone-Hanging-Out-Without-Me-by-Mindy-Kaling-Excerpt.

Since I have such a huge crush on her, I was particularly interested in her "guide to being an awesome guy," because who wouldn't want Mindy Kaling to think he's awesome?


I really like her humble disclaimer to start out the section:

(Let me say here that if you’re some kind of iconoclastic dude who goes by the beat of your own drummer, you will find this insufferable. I totally respect that. I would never want you to stop wearing your skinny jeans and straw hat. I mean it!)

Problem is, I'm no iconoclast who wears straw hats. I'm just a nerd. Not even the disclaimer applies to me. Not a good sign.


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Since Kaling is so good at satirizing stereotypical girl things, I expected her to be more cynical and edgy. But what surprised me about her list is how much it sounds like Kelly Kapoor. Toned down, of course, but you can see the inner Kelly lurking. Most of her tips are about fashion or "product."

So, of course, I fail her test miserably. I don't even know what a "peacoat" is, let alone how to make it look "snappy as the first day you wore it." I don't have a signature drink like James Bond, unless Hefeweizen beer counts. I don't know what "straight-leg jeans" means, I rarely ride elevators, I've never worn cologne, and I have no idea what Kiehl's or Bumble and Bumble are.


I gather from the context that Kiehl's and Bumble and Bumble are beauty products. Ironically, she says that if you only use these two products, "you look all classily self-restrained because you only have two beauty products. You’re basically a cowboy."


So what's a guy who has zero beauty products? A caveman?

The one piece of her advice I have no problem following? "Get a little jealous now and again..." That's something that this unsophisticated caveman can accomplish!

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Anyway, despite my disappointment at not being anything close to Kaling's dream man, the excerpts I read were entertaining. So I recommend the book. I even bought it for my library.

Still... why is nothing about a man's taste in books on her list?

On Being 40

I'm gonna be 40!

When?

Someday...

In eight years!

Things You Think

"A new book comes out every 30 seconds..."

Fun literary facts from my favorite author of lad lit, Nick Hornby.

Accompanied by one of my favorite new musicians (Ben Folds) and an internet duo I'd never heard of (Pomplamoose):

Smoke your lil' smoke
and drink your lil' drink.
And try to make sense of
the things that you think

I love this video. I dare you to listen to it and not bob your head.

See Salt

Has anyone else noticed the explosion of sea salt in all of our snacks lately?

Every salty snack I see in the grocery now proudly announces that it uses "sea salt."


I'd never seen this on any package five years ago. They used to just say "salt."

I know that marketing is rife with copycats. When one product hits on something big, suddenly they all start doing it.

Ever since the Old Spice Guy got popular, lots of commercials now feature quirky spokespeople making nonsensical, choppy pronouncements.

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So I have three questions.


Is "sea salt" the kind of salt these products always used, but they just didn't call it that? In other words, is this explosion of sea salt just a labeling phenomenon?

Or, has sea salt itself suddenly become the Next Big Thing in snacks, and whatever they used before-- rock salt? lake salt? underground gnome salt?-- has become obsolete or too expensive?


And my third question-- what's going to be the next big ingredient that they will use to sell snacks?

"Tear Salt & Chipped Molasses!"

Made from the tears of beautiful Danish children who harvested the molasses