I went out with friends last night for dinner and the youngest of us was about to turn 50. Our waiter was this sassy, handsome young fey boy who tickled us with his youthful naivete and good humor. We all came home and watched Sordid Lives, yes, one of us had a DVD of it in his truck – go figure. I fell asleep halfway through and had to crawl home, but I do want to watch it again as it is about trailer park mostly gay Southerners, of course.
But we were all thinking of that young boy even after we had dinner, and I admit at first wistfully, and then a little more seriously, as in, wow, youth, gone and hello old age. I came across this article in the Huffington Post and thought it was a nice counterpoint to our evening, our thoughts, and maybe even to Sordid Lives.