The Last Dance

20 years of hanging out with these guys …

Taking us on trips, roadtrips and related excursions all over the country …

From Massachusetts to California (okay, all over the continental U.S.A. then 🙂 ) …

Has come to a close.

I returned earlier today from my last golf outting with my college buddies.

Why do I say my last ??

Well, only because Joe Hairdy shall cease to exist soon …

And his replacement isn’t “one of the guys”.

It’s pretty simple.

Anyways, I find it curious my reactions to some things I’m noticing as lasts for Joe Hairdy.

First of all, it seems to me that some girls never notice lasts at all during their similar stages of transition … and that makes me wonder if I am weird? Or, if I’m ready for transition?

Maybe I should only observe these lasts as an afterthought … as a nuisance step to my transition date …

As something that has to be done and simply should be glad when it is over.

But that’s not the case with some of things I’m noticing …

This for example, I’m well aware, is the last time I’ll be at such a gathering with my college friends of decades …

Now with some lasts … I mourn them.

The tears I shed and the loneliness I felt for several hours after I seeing some people for the last time before I was going to disclose to them was always a highly personal, emotional grieving and mourning process for me because I knew it was the last time they would ever look at me the same way again.

Other lasts … I celebrate.

The last boy suit I purchased. I was practically giddy. Yea yea yea … it was sooo exciting to me … to know that … I wasn’t going to be playing the charade much longer. Woo hoo !! 🙂

And then there is this last … which for the most part, I simply observed.

I was well aware that I wouldn’t be hanging out with them in a similar setting ever again. We laughed, we argued, we mocked one another, and we trash talked each other throughout. The same stuff we’ve done for 20 years. Eight “guys”, hanging out, doing guy things. Drinking beer, rating the beer cart girls, smoking cigars, playing cards, golfing. Rewind and do on again on the second day. It was a totally typical golf outting.

My hair was a running comment throughout … it’s length and color (they should have seen it a few weeks ago, huh ? lol); I darn near fell into a creek when a bridge I was walking over gave way – seriously twisting my ankle in the process, we laughed repeatedly reliving the story as the buddy that saw it happen came to help me and the bridge gave way on him causing him to fall almost on top of me (he’s not as big as Shaft, but I would have been crushed the same); and, I listened indignantly as the boisterous, belching, yelling guys in my group complained after hearing a foursome of women whoop it up … “I can’t believe they let them on here during these hours, you’d think they would limit it to weekday mornings” … six other boisterous, belching, yelling guys nodded and muttered in agreement … myself, stupidly said “ahhh, I don’t think we’re any quieter” … “sure, leave it to the guy wearing the sissy sweater to stick up for the women” … (the weather was terrible, I was wearing a cardigan style sweater for warmth on one of the rounds and it became a running joke after one of the guys commented it was a “sissy” sweater and the cute cart girl chimed in … “No it’s not, I have one just like it.” Ahhh, for the record, it’s very possible she does. 😉 ).

Totally, completely typical golf outting weekend. And the entire time, I knew it was a last … I noticed it frequently … last time I’ll putt with these guys, last time we’ll argue politics at the 19th hole, last time I’ll get screwed splitting up the check, etc.

But it didn’t bother me … I wasn’t sad, nor was I happy.

I was like … oh, that’s the last time … okay.

I’d probably sum it up as a resigned relief.

Anyways, whatever I call it …

It was still …

The last time.