Joe Blog

23&Me

I did 23&Me last year, and it didn’t reveal a lot I didn’t already know, but it was interesting enough. I still get notifications on my phone saying “You have 15 new DNA relatives” or whatever.

So this morning Sandra tells me that they’ve got a test on there now that will tell me how susceptible to depression I may or may not be. This was interesting because I clearly have dealt with depression my entire life, but I never knew if I was depressed because of my biology or because I had a fucked up childhood. (it's likely both)

I log into the app and the first thing I see are my new DNA relatives. I generally ignore those because I don’t know my extended family at all, and the vast majority of people I’ve been connected to are like, 4th cousin twice removed or whatever, and who cares. Today, however, a half-brother popped up. That was unexpected.

Now, I knew there are siblings out there that I know nothing about. I don’t know how many and I don’t know their ages or genders or anything. All I know is that I’ve never met my biological dad in person, and when I talked to him on the phone the couple of times I talked to him some ten or so years ago, I learned that I have a brother who worked on Obama’s campaign. That’s all I know.

So this is weird. I sent a request to connect with him and a message asking if so and so (my bio dad) is his dad but I haven’t heard back yet. I’m nervous about it. I found out afterward, that (according to my mom) he never told his family about me, so I might be a surprise. I was a little nervous about that too, but then decided that it was not my responsibility to be his secret. So whatever. I’m sensitive to the fact that this could be uncomfortable for a lot of reasons though.

I don’t expect anything from it, but it’s still really weird to know I have immediate family out there I’ve never met.

(There are roundabout, vague spoilers in this. I tried to keep it as arms length from specifics as I could, but there are a few points where I touch on things that happen in the story)

So I watched Our Flag Means Death this week and it had a pretty profound impact on me. It’s brilliantly written and constructed, the cast is hilarious and fully invested in what they’re doing, and it’s chock full of moments allowing the humanity of its characters to shine through in a poignant, sweet, but not saccharine way.

For me, as a bisexual man in a monogamous, heterosexual marriage, it was a much-needed exploration of all different kinds of masculinity, within the context of an openly and plainly gay pirate story. There’s no beating around the bush or queerbaiting here. They set out to make a story about two men falling in love, in an honest, sincere, sometimes painful way. It’s perfect. I needed it. I had no idea how much I needed it. Not because I’m yearning to be gay, but because I needed to see that gay men can be just as complex, sensitive, awful, toxic, sweet, and cruel as straight men, and not every story has to position itself in relation to heterosexual characters and stories. Not that there aren’t straight characters in the story, but they’re there just as they would be in a straight story, moving the narrative along and providing obstacles and solutions.

The show is an in-depth and nuanced inventory of many different kinds of men and the way men deal with love, rage, and each other. It doesn’t shy away from the ugliness, but it is very deliberate to not focus solely on the ugliness of men, which I find incredibly refreshing, considering how much of the TV landscape is dominated by toxic male characters. These psychopaths and their empires, while entertaining, can become exhausting. Then here comes Out Flag Means Death and flips that trope on its head, showing us that these men don’t have to be domineering monoliths, even when they start off that way. At the start of the story, Blackbeard is a fearsome, legendary pirate with a reputation for the worst kind of cruelty and baser impulses, but when he is finally introduced into the story, it becomes clear that he’s just as sensitive, lonely, and in search of love as anyone.

I guess what I’m getting at is that this show made me really consider who I want to be as a man, both emotionally and practically. It showed me that there’s more to the part of me that is attracted to men than just attraction. It showed me that I could love a man. While that’s not something I’m seeking or feel particularly interested in exploring in an immediate way, it’s giving me a sense of peace about my own sexuality and what it means. What it means is that I love my wife, and I love women, but I also can love many kinds of people, and that’s okay.

This show made me care very much about the relationships men develop, both in the show and in real life. It does it in a way that feels… correct, is the best word I can think of. It’s accurate, and without worrying about society and the expectations of being straight. That’s the brilliance of the show. They managed to find a setting and characters who simply don’t care if someone is gay or straight or nonbinary. There’s a moment in the final episode, that I will try not to spoil, but a main character comes out to a straight character and is supported and loved for who they are, and it damned near made me cry. Not because I’m missing that in my life, but because I know so many people are.

Hello, I’m Joe Humphrey. I’m an artist and writer from California, currently living in Victoria, BC, Canada. I’m in my 40s, married, and have no human children. I sell prints in my Etsy store and my writing is on Amazon.

My first novel, published early last year, is Charlie. It follows a teenage runaway as she tries to hitchhike from Utah to Los Angeles, and runs into a vampire named Caroline, who offers her an incredible gift: immortality. It comes at a heavy price, and Charlie soon learns that the hard way.

The next novel is a follow up (though technically a prequel) called Jack, which follows Jean La Flour, a serial killer (and vampire) as he is imprisoned in Victorian London and taken to Los Angeles. He’s released in the 1930s and we tag along as he attempts to adjust to the “modern” world in America. I’m working on it now, as well as prepping third novel, which is probably going to be called Danny.

In personal news, my wife, Sandra, battled colorectal cancer over the last year, and is officially cancer free! It’s been a harrowing journey but I had total confidence that Sandra was up for the task, and we won this round together. Hopefully that’s the end of it. Fingers crossed!