Greetings Letters readers, Happy Holidays, Robby here formerly from Brooklyn…most recently from Fort Lauderdale…but now, once again, Robby from Brooklyn here. Yes I did just move back, back, back again to Brooklyn. And if you are like most of my friends – and even random strangers just meeting for the first time – you are probably thinking to yourself something along the lines of “what took you so long,” or “why did you even move there in the first place?” I hear you fellow readers!
It’s like my friend Paula told me: “Florida is an absolute dumpster fire.” Or as my former AIDS Lifecycle crush Mark exclaimed: “Florida sucks. Period. Exclamation point.” And former FLL resident Michael more eloquently said, “Florida isn’t what it was when we lived there in the early 2000s. Maybe I’m just older and wiser, but Republicans have creeped their way in and taken over the state. As nice as Wilton Manors is it’s unlivable long-term for gays.”
As I discussed in this column before, moving from a blue state to a red state was a huge leap for me and looking back it really wasn’t the right choice. I never found my groove. My social life was pretty lame. Finding and keeping friends turned out to be nearly impossible. My queer activism was virtually non-existent and the job market was rough with substitute teachers being paid – wait for it – $15 an hour.
All was not horrible. I did have a small group of people I called friends whom I know I will keep in touch with. I loved volunteering at Poverellos, a food pantry/thrift store that provided much needed aid to anyone in the community needing a little help. I did get to freelance for OUTSFL – the gay weekly paper – and met some awesome fellow writers. And you can’t beat the weather. I loved riding my bike or walking everywhere around Wilton Manors.
But being back in NYC less than a week in the blistering cold I have come to realize that all things considered, I really do relate to the lyrics from the Idina Menzel song in that blockbuster movie and Broadway show. No, not the one about the witches lol. The one where she sings – “The cold never bothered me anyways”.
Ok, that might be an exaggeration but being back in NYC in the frigid cold actually doesn’t bother me. NYC in the frigid cold is better than FLA in the sun and warmth.
I am more excited about my – not to sound conceited – already packed social calendar. Invitations to holiday parties, movie screenings and volunteer shifts at God’s Love We Deliver. Since arriving back two days ago I have received invites to two holiday parties. By contrast I didn’t get invited to any holiday parties in FLL all of last December.
Finally, and not to get political in this column, but with Donald Trump winning the Presidential election and coming back into power, NYC will be a far safer place for a queer person than Florida. Especially an Italian-American queer person who is very dark and looks Mexican or Puerto Rican! Hardly anyone who looks at me guesses I am Italian. Quite the opposite actually. People talk to me in Spanish ALL the time. Just yesterday filling out a form the intake coordinator – unbeknownst to me – circled Spanish. The two of us had a good laugh when I explained that the intake coordinator just assumed I was Latino, and that it happens quite often to me.
Who knows what is going to happen in January once TFG gets back in the White House. Whatever happens I don’t think it’s going to be good ,and I don’t think living in a red state is the best option for me.
I already feel much safer being back in a blue state. And I already feel so much happier and lighter here in Brooklyn thinking to myself “why did I stick it out so long in a place that really wasn’t working?” But no Monday morning quarterbacking or backseat driving, 2nd guessing, coulda shoulda woulda… I went, I tried, I gave it a good shot and for whatever reason it didn’t work out for me. Robby from Brooklyn belongs in Brooklyn and is thrilled to be back. Robby from Brooklyn will keep telling himself that the cold really doesn’t bother him anyways. Robby from Brooklyn will see if he still feels that way after the first snowfall. Robby from Brooklyn will stop talking about himself in the third person.
That’s it for me this time around readers. Thanks for all the support and love you have shown me. Happy Holidays to you and yours. Robby from Brooklyn out – gotta go buy a winter coat!
(*This column orginially appeared in the December edition of “Letters From Camp Rehoboth”)
The Gays of our Lives 