Recommitment to the blog…

I started with such a bang…  Posting every day of my Italian holiday.  And even one post after that!  I think the challenge is I’m not sure exactly what I want this blog to be…  what is that I want to say or have to say?

I don’t want to just make it a travel blog- there are plenty of those out there.  And I don’t want to make it dining blog- again, plenty.  Lifestyle? Is that it?  The fabulous lifestyle of a 47 year old creative professional living and working and playing in this wacky world?  Maybe that’s it.  Maybe I just need to start writing about my day.  Might be travel (I do a lot of that.)  Might be eating out (I used to do a lot of that, and still do my fair share!).  And it might be lifestyle (I think I have one of those.)

So I’m just going to jump in- what does the title “when this plane lands” mean?

In 1998 I was 34 years old.  I had spent my whole life up to that point living in the closet.  Lots of ‘girl friends’, but never a girlfriend.  And I had a unique opportunity on my horizon.  My job was giving me the opportunity to go to Europe for what was not only my first visit but also an extended work assignment that was going to have me interacting with many new people from all over the world…  and it was time to deal with who I was.

I was (and am) a gay man and it was time to be OK with it.  (Let me just say that even now, 14 years later, I’m still in that process.  But back to this story…)  It was early June, which- where I live- means a huge gathering of gay men and women from around the world.  I had never been to any of the parties or theme park visits associted with this event at that point (and still haven’t, for that matter…) but I still knew it was happening and that it was something I had avoided in my life.

So as I prepared for the trip I made a decision and as I sat on the plane I made a decision.  When this plane lands the secrecy is over.  When this plane lands I will finally deal with who I am.  When this plane lands I will be an out gay man to whomever I may cross paths with.

And with that, I settled into my business class seat (yes, first trip to Europe and I got to fly business.  I know.  Spoiled), had another glass of wine (OK, 4 more glasses of wine) and fell asleep somewhere over the Atlantic.

And when that plane landed I was in Italy.  Amazing, beautiful Italy.  And within a few hours of landing I met someone whom, although it was not a romantic relationship, did become a dear friend, confidant and the first person that I ever spoke to about men.  It was great.

That’s why this trip to Italy, all these years later, inspired me to start a blog.  And as sloppy and uninspired as this post is it’s the first time I’ve ever put this down in words.

And it feels good.  And so does Italy.  I need to go back.

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