Why Permeable?

Habit Reversal, Nov. 2009.

It took me two days to come up with a title for this blog. Surely, with that being said, you may want to know just what it means.

To put it simply, the name attests to a recent personal “self-goal,” if you would.

A few months ago, I watched a film called Shortbus (not your grandmother's film) and one of my favorite characters was a fictional New York ex-mayor, Tobias. The dialogue where you momentarily meet Tobias happens between the aged ex-mayor and a young male model, Ceth. It follows:

Tobias, the Mayor: But you know what's the most wonderful thing about New York? It's where everyone comes to get fu***d. It's one of the last places where people are still willing to bend over to let in the new. And the old. New Yorkers are, uh, permeable. You know what I mean?

AHEM! Continue.

Ceth: Yeah.

Tobias, the Mayor: You sure?

Ceth: Yeah.

Tobias, the Mayor: Therefore, we're sane. Consequently, we're the target of the impermeable. And the insane. And of course, New York is where everyone comes to be forgiven. What've you done wrong? Tell me. How have you sinned? I'm sure it's nothing serious.

Ceth: How would you know?

Tobias, the Mayor: Well, I'm... I'm sure you did your best. But imagine if you grew up here, like I did. Home can be very unforgiving. It's true. People said I didn't do enough to help prevent the AIDS crisis, because I was in the closet. That's not true. I did the best I could. I was... I was scared. And impermeable. Everybody knew so little then. I know even less now.

[Ceth kisses him]

I've never been to New York City. I've never had AIDS either. I've been in the closet, but that has nothing if not little to do with this idea of “permeability.”

The idea of a new city however, is more like that. The idea of not being home. The idea of meeting new people, not being known by anyone, coming so far away. Essentially, I could portray myself in a different light than I have been. It's obviously a bit of a fantasy considering that such an endeavor would eventually come and bite me in the behind.

But I decided to be more vulnerable – more permeable. I felt it allowed for the transition easier and that it was a way to grasp the novelty of the place more fully. I was very bored with life. I got what I wanted. Permeability, and a fresh perspective on things.

Although I can't say this “osmosis” is fully through. So I thought it appropriate that if this blog will be daily, if only for the next 11 weeks, it would be a good way to date and record this transition and someday I will look upon my youth and laugh at it all, or be touched, or whatever it is that nostalgia will do to me.

Here's to hoping.