My Father and I have always had a “strained relationship.” He wasn’t “there” when my parents got divorced, which was ultimately because my Mother “wasn’t happy.” But I know where I got my stubbornness from.

My Dad is a “die on the hill” guy when it comes to the shit he is willing to die on. I’m no different. He digs in his heels and he won’t be moved. I’m the same way. I’ve had women say to me, “It’s your way or the highway.” And while that can often be misconstrued, they are not wrong. Especially when it comes to the things that “this is the hill I’m willing to die on.”

My Father is in his early 70’s as I write this. There’s been some health issues that have cropped up lately. Plus he’s not getting any younger. It’s hard to help someone who because of fear, pride, independence, and “not wanting to be a burden,” who shrugs things off and downplays things. I’m going to have to have a serious talk with him in the near future.

Which brings me to today’s article.

I saw a poll recently, talking about alcoholic beverages with straws being gay or not. Now I know the person who posted the poll was just having fun. They really don’t care. Neither do I.

But the responses to the poll as “being gay” if you have a straw or umbrella in your drink = gay?

Guys…

Really? Are you that insecure and hung up about a straw in a drink? I like pina coladas. Straw or no straw. I don’t care. Neither should you. I don’t care what you think. Nor should you care what I think. Does having a straw in your drink define your masculinity? It doesn’t define mine. Nor does the name or face on a label. Drink what you like, straw or no straw, because that’s what you prefer. Date or don’t date someone, because that’s what you prefer. Who cares what the internet thinks. Who cares what your friends think. Who cares what your family thinks. It’s your life, and you are the only one who has to live with you 24 hours a day. Your friends and family don’t live with you 24 hours a day, only you do.

If you are okay with looking at yourself in the mirror and you’re okay with who and what you see, then you are doing fine. If not, well, you have some work to do.

My Father has always had an appreciation for the feminine form. My first encounter with nudity was finding a Playboy in the cupboard of the coffee table. I believe I was around 10 or so. This was after my parents got divorced, but apparently my Mother didn’t know he stashed them there.

My Father loved the feminine form. Still does as far as I know. I know I love the feminine form as well. It’s why I date the way that I do. I like to think that I date the way that my Father would have, if only he had given himself permission to do so. I am my Father’s legacy, writ large, and maybe “out of control” by his “standards.” I have become the “monster.” I have become what he wished he could have been. If only…

From what I see and have heard from parents, they want their children to be “better” than they were, and to have a better life than what their parents’ had.

Mission accomplished, Dad.

I have a better life than you did. I’ve become more than you aspired to. I’ve done many of the things that you wished you had done, but never did because of “responsibility” and “duty.” If only you had done the same.

That’s what I wish for my Father. If only he had done the same as I have done. He could have been a bigger “monster” than I am. That would have given me something to truly aspire to.

I wish that my Dad could have been and would have been a bigger “ladies man” than he was. I would have gotten a thrill out of seeing the neighborhood ladies smiling and patting my head, or pinching my cheeks, saying, “Oh you’re Rob Sr’s boy.” I don’t necessarily wish that for me, but for him. I know somewhere deep inside him, that is something that he would have wanted.

The belly dancer said to me recently, “I’m dating the Devil.”

Yes, it’s a fantasy and a metaphor. But she’s not entirely wrong.

I’m the one who told her I was the Devil early on. Because I am. And I am to her. That is the reality that I have created for myself and for her. That is the reality that I choose. So yes, she’s dating the Devil. And “I’m here to the Devil’s Work.”

Reality is reality, I won’t argue that. Then again, you can choose to create your own reality as well. Sure, many people are going to argue with you about it, because it’s not their reality. But do you really care? So what if their reality doesn’t match yours? I like my reality better than your reality. In my reality, I get the things that I want. Your reality says, “that’s not possible.”

“I don’t believe it!”

“That is why you fail.”

Assume the sale. Assume she’s into you. Assume “You’re the Man.” Assume “you’re the Devil.”

It’s always a “yes,” until it’s a “no.”

I am my Father’s Legacy, writ large and fulfilled.

Thank you, Dad.