A Letter from the Editor
A
lmost 15 years ago, I was a determined 20-something living in Atlanta. I worked full time in a great salon where I was often booked solid. You couldn’t tell me anything! (Some would argue that you still can’t.) One of my nightlife friends, we’ll call him Arden, was a scientist who loved to drink.
Given the gravity of his profession, I didn’t know how he did it. But I have to say he was a highly functional and very happy drunk. Many a night we would go to Blake’s, a bar that we loved to bitch about but still go to anyway, and get into whatever kind of trouble that we could find. Arden typically enjoyed kicking the night off by ordering a flute of champagne. The first time I saw him order one, I asked him, “What are we celebrating?” He said, “I’m celebrating myself!” He lifted his glass, I lifted mine, we clinked, and he yelled, “Celebrate yourself God dammit!” Now I’m not the type of person to order champagne everywhere I go, but that toast stuck with me and it became our signature from that point on. Time passed, both of us moved, and over the years I mostly forgot about those moments. But like a lot of old memories, this one has returned to me years later. This summer it feels especially poignant. So much shit has transpired. So many beautiful souls have been lost to COVID-19, even some in our Fire Island community, and in many aspects of our lives, we are still figuring out ways to keep our heads above water. Things have been hard for me too. But I’m making a conscious effort to count each passing day as a small victory. It’s something that I think we could all benefit from, as it’s very easy to forget. So the next time you are having a socially distanced alcoholic or non-alcoholic beverage with a friend, hold your glasses up, look your friend in the eyes and remind them to “Celebrate yourself God dammit!” We all deserve it.
Tomik Dash, Editor-In-Chief
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