Who are we?

Well, this could be a lengthy and philosophical answer to that question ... that could serve as a sleep aid as well.

Alan and I (Daniel) have been together 10 years.

I'm an East Coast boy (I always like to mention that I was born in Manhattan) who has bounced around a bit in my adult years. Alan was born in Texas, but spent most of his life in Louisiana. We first met as I was passing through New Orleans about thirteen years ago. We didn't stay in contact, but I found myself passing through again three years later. This time, we hooked up and kept in touch. Life was in a state of flux for me at that point, so I arranged for a job and moved. We pretended to keep separate apartments for a year or so, but then took the plunge and signed a lease together. (I say "pretended" because I think we maybe spent five nights apart in that time. Sheesh, think of the rent we could have saved ...) Anyway, we've been together ever since.

While Alan and I quickly and easily fell into love and a life together*, the South and I were a different matter. Let's just say we didn't get along. There is a list, but what brought me over the edge was violent crime. After a particularly brutal multi-murder not far from where we lived, I bought an atlas and asked Alan, "So, where shall we move to?"

[*Lest you think our love lives were fairy tales (ha!), I want to point out that we both have survived our share of hard knocks and broken hearts.]

We decided on Seattle because of its mild climate both in weather and politics and because, at the time, it was going through an economic boom. You could pick jobs off trees; it was unbelievable. Mind you, we had never actually been to Seattle, nor could we afford to visit. So we arrived sight unseen with no jobs and no place to live. Sounds crazy, no? (I will resist the urge to launch into a medley of "Fiddler on the Roof" songs.)

Eight years later and we've survived the dot-com bust and the Boeing departure.

If we weren't gay, we'd possibly be the most boring people on earth. At least being gay makes us part of a semi-rare 3-5% of the population. We are urban folk and committed indoorsmen. We live simply (by U.S. standards) with our computers being the most expensive items we own. No house (this is Seattle, who could afford it?) and no car. I mostly walk everywhere and Alan takes the bus and walks.

I guess if we had an ethic it would be to make as small a footprint as possible and "first, do no harm." We believe there is a point when one has "enough" in the way of material goods and it doesn't take that much to satisfy us (in U.S. terms). If we dream of winning the lottery, it's not so much for the stuff it could buy, but for the freedom it would allow. I imagine we're not alone in that.

We are, in some ways, classic underachievers. We probably do not live up to our potential. I'm still figuring out what I want to be when I grow up and would like to one day find engaging employment. We both have marketable skills and work, but are not excited by what we do. We get through the days and try to enjoy our evenings and weekends.

It seems to me that there are the principles the U.S. was founded on (if not always followed) on the one hand and the accumulation of wealth/power that is the American Dream on the other. We are thoroughly American in the belief of the pursuit of the former (life, liberty, and happiness), we don't really buy into the latter. And while we are far, far from being worldly, we are aware that there are, say, other people on the planet and just maybe they count, too.

This is an intro to a political rant ... but I'll save that for another time.

I would just like to add that we are not sanctimonious prudes who take delight in judging others on political correctness. Judge not lest ye be judged. We don't like being judged; we try to give others the benefit of the doubt as well. We are all hypocrites. And nobody's hands are spotless. (Didn't someone else say that a while back?)

Peace.