That's a photo of my longtime friend Tony Isabella. We met by mail around 1967, by phone around 1968 and in person at the 1970 New York Comic Art Convention. Part of me is sad because there is no more Tony Isabella.
But this is not an obit. You see, that person is still alive. He's just no longer Tony Isabella…and here's where I get into what Daffy Duck would call "Pronoun Trouble." She is now Jenny Blake, having announced today that she has transitioned to what she feels is the proper gender identification for her. I've known about this for a while and as far as I'm concerned, the only bad part of this is the Pronoun Trouble it creates.
Jenny is not the first person in my life to do this and if you don't know anyone who's made this leap…well, maybe someone you know is considering it. Or maybe they've decided it's what's right for them but they're too scared of the reaction they might get from those around them. Sadly, there are some people who do get all discombobulated over this kind of thing.
I suspect that in most cases, they really don't care what the transitioner calls themselves or even what rest room they use. They're upset because the world is not being run the way they want it to be run. Here's a story that feels like it belongs in this post…
When I moved into the house in which I now live, which I did in 1980, I found I had a terrific neighbor. Mrs. Eckstein was just about the sweetest lady you ever met in your life. Dwelling right across the street and living all alone, she would occasionally call on me for help…changing a light bulb, driving her to a doctor appointment, being of aid when she locked herself out, etc. As she got older, there were more such calls for help. She gave me a key to her side door and a few times when she fell, I'd run over to help her up or — in a few of those few times — let in the paramedics.
Once in a while, I'd pass the lightbulb-changing or the driving over to my assistant John. Though we both kept telling her it was not necessary, Mrs. Eckstein insisted on thanking both of us with candy or cashews or sometimes, she even gave me a jar of her homemade chicken soup.
So one day a few years ago, John became Jane…and I have to tell you that Jane is a much happier person than John was. Those who are shaken by this whole concept of gender reassignment sometimes claim that all or most who undergo it regret their decisions. I'm sure somewhere there are a couple who do — it's not supposed to fix everything in one's life — but the stats don't bear that out and Jane sure doesn't. The only downside I can see from this transition is, of course, Pronoun Trouble.
As John became Jane, he she (see what I mean?) suggested I go tell Mrs. Eckstein about it so she wouldn't be mystified. I went over to see Mrs. Eckstein and let me tell you a little more about this wonderful lady. She was a retired schoolteacher in her early nineties. She kept a Kosher home. She never hurt anyone in her long, long life. If you were allowed in this world to design your own grandmother, you'd wind up with someone very much like Mrs. Eckstein. But I wasn't sure how she would take to the news about my assistant.
We sat down in her kitchen and I asked her if she'd seen on the news about how sometimes, someone who is born of one gender comes to feel that they don't belong in that category; how they decide they'd be oh-so-much-happier in the opposite gender and how they then undergo various changes, sometimes involving hormones or surgery, to reassign. Mrs. Eckstein had no idea where I was going with this but she nodded and said yes, she'd heard a little about this kind of thing.
So then I said, "Well, my assistant John is doing this. It's called 'transitioning' and John is becoming Jane."
There was a pause while she absorbed what I was saying. Then she spoke and said, "Are you telling me that that nice young man who's been helping me is becoming a nice young woman?" I said yes. She said, "Okay. If that's what he wants, that's fine."
That was the extent of her reaction. And I suggest to you that that is always the proper reaction or it should be. Especially when politicians and those who surround them see dividing us as a tool to attain money and/or power, we need to remember that human beings are human beings even when they do something you would never do. Or could ever understand.
Nothing else changed as far as Mrs. Eckstein was concerned. Jane kept helping my neighbor by changing light bulbs and such until last year when Mrs. Eckstein passed away. The only real difference was that every so often, Mrs. Eckstein called her "John" and had to correct herself. I still occasionally make that mistake too, just as I'll probably forget and call Tony "Tony" instead of "Jenny."
And I'll have a bit of Pronoun Trouble, too. It's a small price to pay if it makes my friend Jenny happy.