The mid-40s are that time in a gay man's life when his major paradigm shifts from sexy to Sansabelts. But when Barry Grooms's partner of twenty years is killed on Barry's forty-fifth birthday, his world doesn't so much evolve as it does explode.<br><br>After navigating through the surreal conveyor belt of friends and family, he can't eat another casserole or swallow much more advice on what constitutes grief. Still numb, he leaves his homestore and design business in the care of others as he escapes to Key West, then New York. There he gets a thankless new job working for a crazy lady in a poncho, then has too many drinks with a narcissistic Broadway actor. Next it's a nude exercise class that redefines flop sweat, and from there he's on to a relationship with a man twenty years his junior.<br><br>Yet no matter how great the retreat from the man he used to be, life's gravity spins Barry back to the small town where he grew up for one more ironic twist that teaches him how to say goodbye with grace.

The Cool Part of His Pillow

I tick through the few photographs I have of myself. The angle’s too low and crappy, creating a gelatinous second chin, like a fanny pack, or I’m doing a Zoolander, or I’m Whistler’s Mother. I omit a photo. The blank default silhouette sums me up, although I would have made my shoulders bigger.


I will allot this experiment—no, project, because when effort and application are required, that’s what it is, a project—three weeks.


When I can’t remove my relationship band, I cram my finger into my mouth and it eases off. Now, perhaps, I can find someone who will help me pull up my socks. 12: The Drilled and the Notched


Chapter 60