Tick, Tock

So, I check in on a couple of blogs regularly. Two of them are written by people I know very casually. One of them just cracks me up. If what he's posting is intentionally funny, then the guy is a genius. But somehow I think not.

I first met "Jack" in chorus. He was my "orientation buddy." In the first nanosecond of acquaintance I was aware that I disappointed Jack in some way. His face fell. He was polite, but there was a slight possibility that I could have been reassigned to someone else and he tried to take it. But me, being me, wouldn't hear of it. I was assigned to Jack, and he was stuck with me.

As it turns out, Jack and I have a few things in common. We're both from Iowa, both grew up doing musicals... well that's really about it. He works in advertising -- I kid you not -- proudly writing the ad copy used in all that paper that clogs your mailbox. Oh, and he writes a blog. And truth to tell, it's a bit cloying, but he has an entertaining style.

The thing that just cracks me up about Jack is how vain he is. With very, very little justification for that vanity. His initial disappointment at our meeting had absolutely everything to do with my appearance. What else could he possibly have known about me? I don't know exactly what is wrong with my appearance in Jack's eyes, but I do not measure up. I suspect it's because I've committed the unpardonable sin of living past the age of 35 without being appropriately embarrassed by the fact.

During my first weeks with the chorus, I did everything I could think of let Jack know I wasn't interested in him other than to be my orientation buddy. I giggled at his bitchy comments about other people in the chorus -- and he had a lot of them. I oo-ed and ah-ed over his reports of progress in preparing for his first marathon. I complimented him on the pictures he brought of himself dressed in drag. All I wanted was to get to know him well enough that he would introduce me to other "ugly" people in the chorus, and then I could be rid of him.

When he completed his first marathon, I brought him a split of champagne. His response? "I don't drink." To which I took his hand, wrapped it around the bottle and said, "Wash your hair with it."

Then I turned and walked away, unproperly styled head held high.

Over the past two years, I've had rare occasions to smile and nod in his general direction. This summer I had to sing with him, and neither of us spoke to the other. I wouldn't say we share an active animosity, but I've gotten the message that I'm inferior, and I'm content with it. I see no need to try to prove myself worthy.

But I am enthralled by his blog. Now, I completely understand one's reluctance to post anything too personal on a random blog. And Jack's restraint really is commendable. There really isn't anything on the blog too embarrassing. He dithers on about his new condo and his ever-evolving love life. He hints at his slutty behavior that no one is supposed to really know about. Really, it all comes out of the "Being a Chicago A-Gay Wannabe Handbook." Why someone would actively cultivate an image that is being sported by every third queen on Halsted baffles me -- but since every second queen on Halsted is striving for this image, I'll concede there's something to it I don't understand. Except Jack's fascination with posting pictures of himself without his shirt. I'll also concede that Jack clearly spends a great deal of time exercising his body. I'd suggest that he modify his routine slightly -- he has an obsession with his arms. For a man of his age, he looks good. Not startling gorgeous, but good. But, at what age does posting semi-nude photos of yourself go from being silly and vain to creepy and desperate? I'm going to say 30. Up to 30, a man-boy can pull off being silly and vain and it can work. After that, it's time to be a grown up and lose the boy. Jack is 39 and demonstrates all the maturity of a cheerleader mom who hasn't gotten the message that the homecoming game is over.

Am I bitter? Perhaps. Mostly at being dismissed by someone so shallow. I consoled myself in high school with the mantra that when I grew up, people would be different. Turns out, their not. But as my social group ages -- and Jack is aging just like the rest of us -- that lack of evolution is very entertaining.