As the Clock Strikes Midnight

 

JJ Hart

New Year’s Eve is upon us again.

With it comes a flood of memories, some good, some not so good from both sides of my transgender border. First, let’s remember one of the ugly male experiences I had. This came from years ago when I had completed my tour of military duty and we were celebrating that as well as the New Years.

Being the huge drinker that I was, I ordered a keg of beer and a bottle of mezcal for a smallish party my second wife (to be) and I were having. Too much booze it seemed to stay socialized at all. To make a long story short, after a hard night of trying to drink the mezcal and the barrel of beer, when the clock struck zero and the ball in Times Square dropped, I did not kiss my future wife first, I committed the ultimate sin of kissing her more attractive sister. Needless to say, there was no way to hide what I did, and I was in deep trouble no matter what I had to say about it.  The damage was done, and I would have to live with it for years. In fact, I don’t think I ever lived it down.

I could blame the entire unfortunate episode on toxic masculinity setting in, but in fact, I was trying desperately to bury any thoughts that I had of being a woman on yet another New Year’s Eve. From then on, the yearly debacle which was a party on New Years went on by me in a blur. At the least I proved I could outdrink anyone else and at its best I learned the problems of acting like a fool and being careful to kiss the right person at the right time.

Nothing really changed until I met my current wife Liz approximately seven years ago when we went out on the town in downtown Cincinnati for a New Year’s Eve celebration. We began with having an Uber ride to our first destination, which was the Cincinnati Music Hall for a performance of the symphony orchestra. Even though I thought I was dressed appropriately for the occasion in my black sequined gown, I was still very terrified about going at all. It turned out that once again all the worrying in the world did not help me at all because nothing happened. I went, I blended and I conquered all those around me who may have questioned having a transgender woman in their midst. And probably, the best part was that the night was just beginning.

From the music hall, we took a terrifying taxi ride in a cab company called Einstein Taxi (really). He drove us at breakneck speed to a venue where we had dinner reservations down by the riverfront. Once we safely arrived, we did not have to wait long to be seated and once again I was met with no resistance to being me at all. The venue was also a micro-brewery which featured German food, so we ate well as we waited for the ball to drop on a New Year. This time, I made sure I was kissing the right woman. Liz of course, before it was time to head back home and no, we did not drive.

This marked the first time I can remember I did not have the thoughts of failure hanging over my head. I was not going to spend another year as my hated male self again. What a relief!

This New Year’s we have a huge college football game to watch as The Ohio State Buckeyes play Miami of Florida. Since the game does not start until seven thirty, we will have plenty of time to open a bottle of wine and toast the incoming 2026. Without dwelling on all of the problems the transgender community had heaped on us in 2025, maybe the upcoming year will be the one when the rest of the world says enough is enough and the upcoming mid term elections will sweep the evilness and the liars out. It is the country’s two hundred fiftieth anniversary. It is time to reclaim some of our past which made us great.

That is my hope for the New Year, as well as I hope you have a better year too, no matter what your goals and dreams might be. I will be spending it in the comfort of my own home with my favorite person who did more for my male to female gender transition than anyone else. It does not get any better for me and I don’t have to worry about who I am going to kiss.

Happy New Year’s!

Back in my "Howling" Days

 I still love Paula's comment about how many of us novice transgender women go through an early phase when we could be referred to as "Howlers." Referring of course to fashion mistakes which usually are related to trying to dress as a teen aged girl when we are much older. Connie then added "Growlers" (seen below) to the post in a comment.

Back in the day, I was guilty of abusing both. I cringe now when I think back of a few of the ridiculous outfits I managed to put together and then go out in public. Then, to add insult to injury, I would try to find "liquid courage" by drinking mega amounts of beer along with the occasional shot. 

Both of which I was recently reminded of when an old acquaintance of mine's birthday showed up on Facebook. What happened was one of the venues I was going to I thought was safely out of my home town enough to hide my gender secret. In fact, it was a big sports bar and one of the first places I went to and began to establish my own feminine persona.   

I increasingly felt secure in going there until one day when I walked in, sat down and was immediately surprised by the person I knew so well. It turns out she was training to be a bartender there. For awhile she played it cool and never said anything so I wondered if she even knew, until one day she said "Don't I know you?" Of course by then, it was too late to try to lie my way out of it and I said yes. 

Over the duration of time she worked there, I don't believe she told any of the people who happened to overlap our circle of friends about our "secret." From there, life went on and she graduated college, got married and moved away. 

My only regret is she had to witness the "Howler and Growler" period of my life as I started to explore living as a transgender woman. 

She lives many miles away now and it's doubtful I will ever see her again anyhow but it's just another part of my past which haunts me.

Cowboy Dreams

This is an older experience I haven't shared for awhile here in Cyrsti's Condo. In fact it goes back to the 1990's.

In those days, I was spending my life divided between the two binary genders. Along the way, I managed to locate a couple small lesbian bars I liked to drink in. One disliked me totally, the other I was accepted in.

On certain nights, the venue I was accepted in had karaoke. I don't sing at all (except for a David Allan Coe song I knew.)  The song was/is "You Never Even Called Me By My Name but I digress.

I was only vaguely aware it was karaoke night when I got there. I didn't really care because of course singing was the last thing on my mind.

I also remember I was wearing my blond wig with jeans, boots and some sort of tight top. Indirectly, I wanted to look nice for the other patrons. It turns out I did I guess!

About half way into my second beer, a big butch lesbian comes up (in a cowboy hat no less) and demanded, not asked, if I would sing with her. Of course I tried to politely decline. Then I learned quickly I was going to choose the song and sing it with her.

As I panicked, I thought there was only one song I knew and mentioned David Allan Coe to her, hoping she wouldn't want to do it. No such luck though, she grabbed my hand and headed to the stage. Fortunately the lights were dim in the place and there weren't many patrons there yet and I did the best I could to sing with her.

After we were done, she looked at me and said my voice was lower than hers and headed another direction. I took that as my time to escape. I paid the bartender who knew the truth about me and took off.

I never saw the butch lesbian in there again and wondered if she ever learned the truth about her duet partner that night so long ago.

A Night in the "Nati"

Saturday night a wonderful friend of mine and I had a night out in the "Nati". The "Nati" is a slang term for Cincinnati.

Like so many evenings, this one started out innocently enough, we were simply going to downtown Cinci to enjoy the Christmas lights and sounds.  Oh, by the way my friend is a "GG" which shouldn't figure into this post but in spirit of understanding and disclosure-there you are.

Little did I know the real meaning of the evening would begin when I washed and dried my hair earlier in the afternoon.  The hair experience is still a mystery to me. Today however, I decided to step outside the box and let my "freak flags fly"...so to speak. I always admired the girls with the wild hair so I spritzed my hair with some sort of curling conditioner recommended by my friend. I let it dry, teased my hair a little and off I went.

Cincinnati is actually and hour and half or so from where I live but for any number of reasons I have always been drawn to it. Seemingly the place has been the spot where many fun and special things have happened to me.

I made the trip, picked her up at her house and we headed downtown- parked and headed to all the Christmas activities. Fairly shortly we got our fill of the festive spirit and went in search of other spirits.
We didn't have to go far as  Cincy has finally started to develop the area between the two pro stadiums into an entertainment district of bars and restaurants. One of which in particular I have wanted to visit since it opened earlier this year. Among other things it brews and serves a few beers I call my "ancestral beers" or the beers I drank when I first "popped the top" on a cold brew.  This was back in the day before all the now foreign giant brewers started to brain wash the beer drinking public with essentially tasteless "near beer"-but I digress. Fortunately "the Nati" is starting to return to some of it's brewing roots. (It's was a hugely German influenced city) So the night became mystical when I actually ordered a beer I hadn't seen since the early 70's and was sitting there enjoying it with my friend with all my potentially wild hair as a woman in this huge place.

Truthfully, I know my hair is far from being the "wild thing" I imagined it to be tonight-but you know it didn't matter. I finally had connected the dots to a time when I couldn't even imagine doing what I did tonight. Plus just for a second I was the girl with just a touch of bad I always admired. I'm selfish though, and I'll take that second I never really had.

Yes, it was an amazing "night in the Nati" and I give my friend and my ancestral beer all the credit.