I presume most PC members who know me know I'm an old man. But I'm an old man who has waged a life-long struggle with my gender identity. (Think Bruce Jenner without the athletic ability, the Olympic medals, or the notoriety.) Most of my earliest memories of life (the few I have) revolve around this.

We used to say: if you're trans you're trans for life. It never goes away. But for some time now, although I knew my gender identity issues still lurked beneath the surface, I felt like for the most part those issues had finally not so much been resolved but rather had finally just burned themselves out. They just no longer mattered.

Then, a couple of weeks or so ago, the thought suddenly flashed through my mind (perhaps due to all of the news reports related to the Coronavirus pandemic) that sooner or later in some way or another I'm going to pass away (as they say) as an old man... one who has left behind a wide swath of wreckage. And, in the wake of that thought, I felt a rush of sadness at what was, as well as what will never be.

One result of the pandemic, where I live, is that all of the hair salons & barber shops have been closed. (They still are until June 1.) I was kind-of in need of a haircut when the pandemic first hit, businesses were closed, & everyone was ordered to stay home. So now my hair (what I still have of it which is a fair amount given my age) is getting quite long (at least for me.) And having my hair this long is tweaking my gender dysphoria (as long as I don't look in the mirror.) I know I'll have to get it cut sooner or later. (My wife won't put up with anything else.) But, in the meantime, truth-be-told I love it. I guess even a burned-out old fire can spring back to life given the right conditions.