In defense of being wildly out of touch

At least I know I’m a huge weirdo.

Zaid Jilani had a funny take on me recently, which was that even though I’m basically right about things, nobody should listen to me because I’ve lived a comically out-of-touch life.

And it’s true.

I’m not just from Manhattan — I’m specifically from Greenwich Village. My dad is a novelist and screenwriter. My mom was a graphic designer and painter. The men on her side of the family are all economists. My dad’s parents were novelists and journalists and literal Communist Party members. Here in D.C., I live in Logan Circle. Not only are my life experiences irrelevant to purple-state electoral politics, they’re just odd.¹

I once had a conversation with a neighbor who was new to my D.C. neighborhood but used to live in the Boston area. I asked him where and he said the South End, and I said that was my favorite Boston neighborhood because I really felt at home there and that I thought he’d love Logan Circle.

This guy naturally understood me to be saying I was gay, when I’m actually just a weirdo who’s spent the vast majority of his life living in gayborhoods. The South End just literally reminds me of my hometown!

So Zaid is completely correct about the biographical facts of my life. What I will say on my own behalf, though, is that I am living life without illusions.