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

She goes brrrrrrr. “Do you know how to work this digital thermostat? And how do I lower this blasted shade? Also, why is the bathroom exhaust fan rattling?” Small wonder Ted has such dark circles. He must get no sleep, always Olivia-proofing their house.


I scan through hundreds more stations and happen upon the new HBO series starring Chaz Stewart. In this scene, he’s engaged in some exposition about the curmudgeonly building super. He spouts a bon mot that posthumously shames Paul Lynde. If that’s not enough, he kicks up a back leg so high the heel touches the vent of his velvet smoking jacket.


The Imagenation flash-drive sits on the coffee table. I don’t touch it, but I stretch, as if it might play like a hologram.


An .mp4 begins with broadcast color bars.


The canted video image finally stabilizes.


Chapter 104