I’m not sure if this is a reflection, a curiosity, or just a brain dump in motion—but the past few days I’ve been revisiting some of the sporadic blog entries I posted after I stopped writing regularly.

One in particular stood out. It was a short piece from shortly after the fertilizer hit the ventilator in 2023. In it, I mentioned a conversation with a friend who said something that’s stuck with me ever since. He told me that while some people had seen signs of abuse in my relationship—or even directly witnessed the aftermath—they didn’t say anything. Why? Because they were “rooting for us” as a gay couple. In a time when marriage equality was gaining ground, our relationship had become a symbol. And symbols are hard to challenge, even when there’s something broken behind the surface.

That moment really sat with me. It made me think (always dangerous, I know) of another conversation—this one with a colleague in mental health a few years ago. At the time, I was actively involved in the local and international Burning Man community. Not just attending, but volunteering in a staff role.

There was a local issue brewing—one of those slow-burning ethical problems that finally caught fire. A longtime volunteer with a pattern of inappropriate behavior crossed a line at the main Nevada event. The incident was serious enough that he was removed from the event and shortly after, removed from his volunteer position entirely.

The details of how all this works—how local communities relate to the broader Burning Man organization—aren’t really the point here. But suffice to say, the information trickled down and prompted some community-level meetings. I attended one, and during it I had a conversation with a community member who was also a professional colleague.

When we were talking about the situation, she said something I’ll never forget:

“That’s just Joe being Joe.”

(Not his real name, of course.)

That was the moment it clicked. That exact phrase is the reason so much unacceptable behavior gets tolerated. We get used to it. We minimize it. We explain it away. Whether it’s “boys will be boys” or “locker room talk,” it’s the same poisoned candy in a different wrapper.

You can take it all the way to the top—we now have a former and current president whose self-described sexual assaults were brushed off as harmless banter. And if you dare to call it out, you’re accused of being “woke”—by people who couldn’t define the term if you handed them a dictionary and a flashlight.

Look, I understand the idea of “locker room talk.” I’ve been in locker rooms. But once those words leave the locker room and enter the public sphere—especially if they’re aimed at someone—they’re no longer idle banter. They’re harm.

The same people who scream about cancel culture and being silenced? They tend to lose their ever-loving minds if a gay man flirts with them. Suddenly, it’s not free speech anymore. Suddenly it’s harassment. Amazing how quickly the rules change when the shoe’s on the other foot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back to “Joe being Joe.” That phrase, and all the ones like it, not only minimize the behavior—they validate it. They normalize it. And to be fair, I get that some of it comes from generational differences. Things that were once considered “just how people talk” are now understood to be offensive or harmful.

But being raised a certain way doesn’t give you a lifelong permission slip to ignore growth. I’m a card-carrying member of Generation X, and I’ve had to unlearn some things. I still struggle. Pronouns, for instance—I’ll be honest. It doesn’t come naturally. It wasn’t something we asked about when I was growing up, and sometimes I don’t ask now because I get nervous I’ll screw it up. But I try. I learn. I listen. And most of the people I’ve interacted with are kind and patient when I miss the mark.

At the end of the day, I think it goes back to something simple—something we were all supposed to learn as kids: Play nice.

Not sarcastically. Not performatively. Just… be decent.

You don’t have to like everyone. You don’t have to agree with everyone.

But we’re all spinning on the same big blue rock together. Let people be who they are.

To paraphrase Rodney King: Why can’t we all just get along?

And, as always—

Be the kind of person your dog and your mom hope you are.