Memories

Weird, the things I have to remember. That's what I was thinking the other day as I sat at the bus stop.

There's a woman I often see there, and we have gotten to the point where we talk like old friends. Work, makeup, television... we cover the range. This particular day she mentioned that her son was coming over for dinner, and I told her that my son is planning on visiting next month. She asked, "Where does he live?", and I almost blurted out, "Oh, he lives with his mom in Nashville!"

I caught myself just in time, but it's just one example of the things I have to keep constantly in mind.

My memory is filled with experiences it would be awkward to talk about. School, marriage, past jobs... no matter what the subject, I have to constantly filter what I say unless I want to get into a long explanation of my situation.

It's funny, though... more and more, those memories seem the memories of someone else, almost like scenes from a movie you saw long ago. New memories are crowding them out, pushing them into the shadows.

I had an odd experience a while back. I was organizing files on my computer's hard drive, and came across a folder full of old pictures of myself. As I went through them, it hit me... I don't know this person! I remember the face, but it's inconceivable that it was ever mine.

Today I had an even odder experience. I was thinking of elementary school, and it hit me that I remembered myself as Annie. All the experiences were there: playing at recess, doing a magic trick for show & tell, watching a movie in the cafeteria; yet they were the experiences of a little girl with bushy hair and too-long legs. I was seeing things through the eyes of the person that had been there all along, buried deep inside, but still there.

Maybe before long I won't have to filter my memories any more.

Z109

Well, it's the end of an era. Z109 is closed.



The owners, Amber and Sally, built a TG-friendly night club that became known all over the country. If you were in a chat room and it came up that you lived in or near Clearwater, Florida, someone was sure to ask, "Oh! Do you go to Z109?"

Despite its fame and its reputation, however, it never made any money. The place was just too big and too expensive to operate. One can imagine that Amber and Sally were ready for more than a few hours off, a chance to travel, and some time without the pressures and headaches of running a club for three years. They got an offer to sell, and they took it.

That's right, three years. In fact, Saturday August 12 was supposed to be the 3rd anniversary party; instead, it became a time to say goodbye. It was the biggest crowd I'd ever seen there, perhaps the biggest crowd they ever had. Everywhere, the topic of conversation was the same: "I can't believe this is it... that it's really closing."

What was it about the place that made it the place for TG people to go?

Sunday afternoon, a lot of long-time regulars and friends gathered in the upstairs bar for chips and hot dogs and dollar drinks, and to say goodbye and thanks. Just before it was time to leave, I had to visit the ladies' room. As I walked through the empty main club, I thought back to the first time I had gone there.

It was my first time ever out in public; I was scared to death, and sat in the car for a long time before getting up the nerve to go in. As soon as I walked in, the folks at the door said, "Hi, hon! How are you tonight?" No funny looks, no eyeing me up and down, just complete acceptance of who I was. And that feeling never changed. Mitch and Alicia, the rest of the bar staff, the door people, and Amber and Sally themselves made everyone who walked in the place feel welcome, safe, and accepted. For a lot of the people who went there, it was the only acceptance they knew. As I stood there looking at the empty dance floor, I realized that that is what made it so special. Without the people, it's just another (somewhat tacky) gay bar.

As of this writing, the Z's website is still up, frozen exactly as it was that last week. All the photos from the years past are still there. It's a little spooky to look at them now.

The new owner has said that it will reopen in a few weeks after remodeling as the Viper Room, and that he wants the same crowd to come back. Whether that will happen remains to be seen, but whatever happens it won't be the same place.

If I get a little choked up writng about it and ramble a bit, you'll just have to indulge me. After that first night, I spent the better part of two weekends there. Being out, being accepted as me was such a revelation, and felt so right, that the next week I made an appointment for counseling, with the aim of beginning transition. And I haven't looked back since.

Thanks Sally, Amber, Mitch, Alicia, and everyone else who made it a home for a lot of otherwise homeless people.