I am literally searching Etsy for masculine napkins. Rut ro. Etsy is not the place to be masculine.
Once my brother was teasing me again about my big nose, though his was as big. So, I punched him in that nose. Not hard. He looked at me, confused and hurt. Not physically hurt, just shocked his brother would do that to him. I’ll never forget how awful I felt in that moment. Another misfired attempt to do what a man was supposed to do. Defend yourself with a punch, right?
Later, I stopped printing my words with neat, artistic letters, square at the corners. Other guys were not doing this. Still, now, I keep my handwriting a bit sloppy, primitive. We all give up things to fit in, I suppose.
Then there’s my mom. The cub scouts had a Halloween party, and in she comes, cackling, black cone hat on her head. She hobbles to a cauldron in the middle of the room. Dry ice goes in, a steaming witch’s brew rises up. On another day after school, I found her doing a headstand. She also fractured a hand while belly dancing. Actually, doing a back bend while belly dancing.
My long-haired, Santana-listening mom was cool, and so was my Dad. He’d crack a subtle joke, and stand there, confident, not waiting to see if you got his joke. On a scout camping trip, the guy I was sharing a tent with said, “your Dad is so cool!”
Oh, the opposing forces at work on me. One, to avoid shame and try to be good. The other, wanting to be like my parents: living a life of freedom and adventure. These forces resulted in a weird compromise about the masculine napkins. I would make my own napkins. They’re pictured at the top of this essay. The one on the left is a joke. The one on the right is yet another confirmation that I should stick to writing.
For a long time, I nowhere near as cool as my parents. Talking to your hermit crab in the back yard is not cool. Beer and marijuana and listening to AC/DC helped my image, though a neighbor boy still called me “Semi Tough” (a popular movie at the time). Calling me Semi Tough was mean, but also brilliant.
Semi Tough is searching Etsy for masculine napkins. Growth would be to to buy whatever f’n napkins I want. You don’t like my napkins? Bite my butt. Besides, how much time is any person on Earth going to devote to thinking about my napkins? What a waste of brain.
I hope this doesn’t disrespect my trans friends, but it would be a trip to put on a dress and go around town. I’d be a really free person then.
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