The Life and Times of Totally Tyler

Before there was Madonna there was Olivia Newton-John and I wanted to be her. To mimic her “Raggedy Ann” type prairie dresses that completed her look for Xanadu, I tied rags to my belt and wore ribbons in my hair while roller-skating around the neighborhood.

Back when I had hair, Grandma Judy took me on a shopping spree at the K-mart for my 11th birthday. As if her buying me a Michael Jackson t-shirt wasn’t awesome enough, when I returned home, I was greeted with a surprise birthday party.

“I don’t believe that’s to ward off the evil eye,” said my crazy bug-eyed Great Aunt Pam as she tugged on my Kabbalah Red String. “I think that’s to let other men know you are gay and single.” Great Aunt Pam’s first love turned out to be gay. She was said to be heartbroken and she ended up marrying another man- my Great Uncle Larry.

The only scar on my body is on my left hand, not on my thumb or index finger, but on the finger between the pinky and the middle finger. I don’t believe that finger has a name. The scar is small and starts right at the tip of the finger and slopes down about an inch. I got this scar when I was a freshman in high school, or maybe a sophomore.