When I run, I put on the headphones and grab that iPod (yes, I still use a probably 20-year-old iPod). It is always loaded up with songs from my now almost 15,000 song iTunes library. The 8th most played song is the title tune here. Know it? It is from the tremendous (no matter what you think of him) autobiographical film “Private Parts” by Howard Stern. I was a huge fan when he was on terrestrial radio, then drifted away as things evolved and I didn’t want to pay for an XM subscription. The song was done with The Dust Brothers and I still to this day, love it. And it, in its own way, describes me, a tortured man.
We all live in our own heads. I certainly do. And in there are two people trying to get along. There is the “me” me, the male me, who I am at my core. The person who pushed through so much to survive. The person who remains focused on others, family, friends, creating a happy last act for my wife and I as grandparents and aging humans. Arthritis, hearing loss, Medicare, bills, responsibilities, aging parent, the joy of a grandchild, the continued maturation of now children in their third decades, all things we all deal with. Life. This person also enjoys his training and the sense of community he has with his pickleball and other friends.
Then there is the girl featured here. Any time and every time, without shirking duties or pushing beyond self-imposed boundaries, she is filled with joy. But the high of that joy is not sustainable day-in, day-out. It is a high, for sure! Living high can have its issues as well. Ying yang, high low, up down, responsibility and pleasure. For some, they have to pick a team, so to speak and live in one realm. But for many, circumstances and obligations prevent all of it.
I’m a tortured man
I can’t believe I am who I am
Further diving onto the couch, my mind is 100% wired to literally script each and every day. I have no real remembrance of any day within the past 20+ years when I just awoke and let the day lead me. I have an always running to do list in my head, as well as a literal one, handwritten frequently, sometimes many times a day. This was a survival technique I used during my “sabbatical”, a necessary need for routine to remain sane. I have a paper calendar, using a pencil. Old school and obsolete. Yes, I make adjustments based upon many things, but there is always a teleprompter in my head. I guess the point of all of this is to share that we all struggle and anyone, and I do mean anyone, who says otherwise is either fooling themselves, lying or that unicorn that just glides through life.
August 6, 2026, I hit the beach! For many reasons, I have been unable to do so for most of the summer. Earlier this year I could not NOT purchase this bikini. It is cuter than cute! I was able to get my weight down under 160 lbs. for the first time in years but still was unsure of my belly. But I knew there would not be many people I would encounter given that I hit the beach in the morning, so I thought…. WTF! There literally is zero story here outside of a bit of relaxation, a glorious day and some fun pics! I will let your hostess set the table here and we’ll share our photo shoot for the day. Not my best work, but I remain so grateful for what I get away with.
Hanging With My Peeps 2019
I am, indeed, a tortured man…
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Originally posted on Julie’s Facebook page July 23, 2026.
“I’ve heard a lot of crossdressers say that they understand what it’s like to be a woman. I’ve never felt that way. I understand some of the surface level stuff – like digging in my purse to the point of exasperation or looking in my closet and thinking I have nothing to wear, but that’s not womanhood. Regardless of how I’m dressed, I still carry a male aura. That provides me with a level of protection that most men take for granted – especially on the red line at 1am. My male privilege follows me despite my attire. I’ve been married for almost 30 years and know that the world my wife experiences is vastly different than anything I’ve ever experienced. Society created this division because of how it treats us and how it’s forced us to see ourselves. I think Iggy’s quote gets to the heart of the issue. We see ourselves based on the value society places on each of us. I think this can also be extended to queer people. I’ve known I was a crossdresser since I was a kid, which means that I’ve had a decades long relationship with being the butt of countless jokes. The bottom line is that Iggy reminds us that not only can we shift our mindset to see ourselves in a more positive light, we as individuals can help change society through our words and actions.”
