Flatlander in Exile

An empty space. No longer can we say an empty notebook or a blank sheet of paper.  In our modern world, we deal in empty spaces. Vast, white landscapes awaiting inspiration. Or not.

Why did I choose to start writing this blog at this point in my life? Why did I call it Flatlander in Exile? What the hell could I possibly have to say that anyone would want to read? What can you expect from me?

Let’s start with the easy one, or perhaps it’s the easy one: Flatlander in Exile. I grew up in the great state of Illinois, although these days it ain’t so great. Had a pretty idyllic childhood. Elmhurst was very white-bread and vanilla, as my brother Steve often says, and very protected.  I had very few friends that didn’t look or sound like me.  You were either Lutheran or Catholic and that was it; no members of the tribe to be found in my little suburb.  My dad, God love him, came home from work and told racist jokes that I laughed at, because who was I to know that they were racist. Family gatherings involved copious amounts of alcohol, at least from my worldview as a youngster. My mom and I were thick as thieves; being the youngest child by 9 years, I was essentially an only child in many ways.

But I digress. Upon my college graduation I took a teaching position in NYC. 1,000 miles and worlds away. When you’re a closeted gay man whose been living under the thumb of his parents, partially by choice, for 25 years, the best thing to do is completely change venue. So I spent almost 20 years in NYC, where I met my now husband Rick who took me from the wilds of NYC to the wilds of Seattle. It’s taken me a while to get used to Seattle, and I’m pretty close to adjusting. Thus, I am a Flatlander in Exile.

Those who have grown up in Maine and eventually leave the beautiful state are said to be “living in exile.” Part of my purpose in creating this blog is to explore that concept for myself, to understand my place and why parts of my existence seem so foreign, so alien.

I think that’s enough for now. More to come about why this blog, why now, what I’ll be writing about – in part 2.

Thanks for reading this far. If I’ve upset you or pissed you off, I’m sorry. Or not.