At this morning's meeting, with over a hundred-plus in attendance, I had the most time of anyone in the room (again) yet I sometimes feel rather anonymous there. To some degree, that's a good thing; that is, when it helps me keep my ego in check and be just another member among members, as responsible for putting away my coffee cup and chair as anyone else. At tonight's meeting, there will be at least four or five people with more time than me out of close to 200... a comforting feeling, to have some folks ahead of me. I do, keeping things in perspective, try to welcome the newcomers as is part of the responsibility of having time in the program. There's no denying, however, that there are some people in WeHo who just brush me aside aside as though I'm invisible. That's what I get for not writing screenplays, eh? As the saying goes, those that matter don't care, and those that care don't matter. It's just weird, is all, having time. There's no warning in advance of what it will be like. Blam! All of a sudden, you're one of the old farts instead of in the middle of the pack. It probably means I shouldn't wistfully check out the 20-somethings anymore... after all, I'm gonna be 40-something in less than two weeks. What? You thought I'd put my real age here in case anyone ever does read my blathering?
Yet, Mike insisted on giving me a ride in his Ford Bronco after the meeting this morning, only to find out that the Pearl Art Store wasn't open until 10:00, so he dropped me off at the Tar-jay at La Brea & Santa Monica. It was a hoot the way he roared around LA city streets as though we were climbing over unpaved hills. Maybe because we were in his big ol' truck looking down at the little compacts I felt safer than I would've had we been driving that way in a smaller car... The half hour or so of conversation we had over any number of inane and unrelated subjects was well worth the price of admission. It reminded me just how much human interaction I've not been engaged in of late. Yesterday, I ran into Nicholas on the bus, and we discussed, among other topics, the pros and cons of our increasingly online community and its' impact on the gay ghetto. On his recommendation, I viewed the many Halloween pictures he'd posted onto his site. I'm sorry to say that I did not see the cute lil' fireman he'd photographed while on the Boulevard Monday night. Cuter than any Dalmation, for sure! Not as cute as my favorite pick of the night in the Coco Cafe tee shirt advertising Cuban sandwiches (was it a real place, or one of those faux vintage shirts?) ...damn, now I'm in the mood for some plantanos, moros, and a cuban batido. Maybe I'll treat myself on my birthday with a long overdue visit to Versailles. Not exactly the trip to Vegas I'd wanted to go on, but a little bit o' Miami in L.A.... without the humidity. This is just the time of year SoBe would be jumpin', too... Guess I'll have to settle for WeHo., and remind myself of all the poor kids who can't even get here.