. ffthruary 6, 199B___________
The PRIDF
IVlento^p Proj6ct
Ever wish you
Vknew an adult
who really had
a clue?
Remember
what it was like \
to grow up
feeling different?
7
Cjct Iw/eh/td!
The PRIDE Mentorship Project
matches Multnomah County
queer youth with a caring and
responsible adult who can serve
as a positive role model.
Call Brandt Rigby at
503/223-8299
A program of Phoenix Rising Foundation, Inc.
Community
Church
Sunday Services
10:00 a.m.
ohhedioh
(503) 643-7591
Practical Christianity:
a bit of tradition,
a lot of common sense.
Check us out!
Rev. Casey Chaney
Rev. Berdell Moffett
Sunday Messages
Beaverton
February 1
Ludicrous Li*
Jesus ideas: brilliant or insane?
Hwy 217
February 8
Impossible Love
The only kind that nurtures and heals
Rrfrary HekhU
Crab H
Sextoa Ml Dr
February 15
How Small Is Your God?
Try flying on the jumbo jet variety
Murray Blvd
February 22
Boomeranging Faith
(¡eding the returns you want
I like getting old
Slowing down is feeling really good
’m enjoying aging. As exciting and intense as
the “Mellow Yellow" teens and 20s of my
generation were, I wouldn’t trade them for
these truly mellowing years. I don’t even
want to know as much as 1 thought 1 knew at
age 18. Finally accepting that I’m only human,
I’m a lot more comfortable.
As a kid I took great pride in occasionally
winning King of the Hill, a game that consisted
of flinging other kids down the hill
until you alone remained on top.
The old ladies sitting on lawn
chairs shook their heads in aston­
ishment and a bit of disapproval at
the energetic rivalry of childhood.
Probably, I thought they were
jealous. Boy, was I wrong.
I’m beginning to get that grow­
ing older brings with it a letting go.
Maybe my personality’s still Type A,
or at least A minus, and my shoul­
ders are at risk of attaching them­
selves to my ears from stress. Maybe
1 worry too much about yuppie con­
cerns like IRAs and 401 (k)s.
Despite those little details of sur­
vival, I’m reaching a point of bal­
ance in my life where I really pay
attention when my screen saver
comes on and tells me to
BREATHE. I think those old
women,
though they looked crabby
— fJ
to us kids, were just being grateful
that they didn’t have to carry on
BY
like we were anymore. They’d
LEE LYNCH already
climbed up and down
enough hills. And they didn’t need
a screen saver to slow to a sane pace.
I like that I no longer have a burning need
to publish a book a year to feel OK about
myself. What freedom.
1 love that I’m not even tempted to look at
other women, much less get in trouble for more
than a wandering eye. I can admire without
coveting!
OK, maybe it’s a blip on my hormonal radar
screen, but this particular blip’s a whole lot easi­
er. Remember when nonmonogamy was “in”?
How did we juggle all those relationships? What
did messing around in triplicate or quadruplicate
do for the Revolution? “Smash the nuclear fami­
ly”? Right.
SB
I don’t even miss those intense platonic
friendships that once were so titillating (intel­
lectually, of course). It was all-important to say
Everything—to Communicate—to hit that kind
of runner’s high that Deep Conversation
brought.
Now I like to sit around the kitchen table
playing Pictionary. I’d rather laugh than solve
the world’s problems, unless I can do both at
once.
1 like that self-improvement is a choice, not
a challenge. Read the classics? Once, on jury
duty, I read the complete works of Charles
Dickens at one fell swoop. He’s a particular hero
of mine and I’m glad I devoured his words—but
today?
Recreational reading’s my joy: English mys­
teries preferably, author by author, as 1 lie on the
couch under an afghan 1 made before 1 (mostly)
gave up the compulsion that required me to per­
form at least two activities at all times.
I used to be a sprinter. What’s the rush?
Speed limit’s just fine in my car too. When I
remember the velocities at which I’d drive my
VW to spend time with one female passion or
another—I’m glad I lived through the killing
pace of early youth to tell about it.
Looking old never scared me, because I grew
up among old people. They weren’t decrepit
ghouls as some of the kids liked to pretend. As a
matter of fact, the elders were nicer to me than
the kids.
1 loved getting gray early and being white-
haired at 52. I wouldn’t think of dying a strand.
Leaving the blush of youth behind also
means leaving the harassment of youths behind.
I never get hassled on the street anymore.
People look at me like I’m just one of them. I
feel guilty sometimes, wearing this disguise. Is
there a button yet that says, “Queers get middle-
aged too!”
I really like knowing a little something about
who I am and what I want. I’m not talking big
philosophical questions here; it’s the little
things. Traveling by air on holidays. I mean,
why? Driving in snow and ice. I don’t. Drinking
liquor. Oh, barf. I really used to think I had to
do stuff like that.
I like a lot of this aging business. Those old
women were right to look a little crabby. King of
the Hill really is a pretty dumb game.