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Advent For The Forty-Something Gay

Updated on December 1, 2009


Did you know that this past Sunday was Advent Sunday? Are you wondering what a Jewish man is doing writing about advent? God knows if I were you I’d be wondering. You see my advent has nothing to do with the big build up for the moment that God supposedly gave the world his son, no, I’m plotting and planning and getting ready to open each door on my own personal advent calendar hoping that behind each door is something I can really use like metabolism or the loss of a pound. That’s right for the next 25 days I’m going to work out, puke, and clean my colon out with kitchen cleanser if necessary in order to get down to a decent weight before seeing the people I see only once a year at the holidays. Welcome to advent for the forty-something gay – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve always been good at deadlines, always. But over the past few months I discovered that the one thing I’m really successful at in life  is my relationship with my guy. We have been together for over twenty-one years and guess what? I still adore the man and my heart goes pitter patter when I see him but if I don’t lose some of the weight I’ve put on over the last year I’m going to have everyone wondering why the hell he is still with me. Happiness is always the death to your abdomen region. While I have put on over twenty-five pounds since our meeting, he is a black man who remains in amazing shape and looks fabulous. I hate him. I have this fear that we’re eventually going to look like Sidney Poitier dating Jackie Mason. (If I’m really honest that moment may have all ready arrived)

The other day my male cat was sitting on my lap. He had his head on my stomach and his paws fell on either side of my stomach. He looked like he was holding a beach ball that was just a little too big for his grasp. Depressing doesn’t even begin to cover it. And so desperate times call for some desperate measures, it’s back to the gym, eating only green things (that will make my colon dance a quickstep in my own dancing with the shits) and listening to Karen Carpenter (in hopes that by listening to her music I’ll begin to look as thin as she did, you know, “bobble head thin” where you lose enough weight that your head looks too big for your body).

The thing is that as a gay man there’s a lot that’s expected of you. And although I’m definitely one of what I call the “garden variety gays” who has a spouse and two cats named after musical theatre characters so is not out to turn heads or date anyone else, there comes a time when you have to say to yourself that you’ve let yourself go and you need to get you and your ass back. So let the days tick away and with each one I’m going to get closer and closer to that day when I can go from only looking good in what the shepherds wore and rock that whole on the cross loin cloth look. Irreverent you bet and if there is a devil out there, my soul is the next item up for bids on the Price Is Right. Stay tuned, it’s only going to get worse I’m sure. Advent for the forty-something gay – Don’t Get Me Started!

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