So who am I and why do I have a blog?
Who am I? Well, as another guy born as Francis might have said, I’ve been a journalist, a DJ, a man, a woman, a puppet, a pauper, a pirate, a poet, a pawn and a king and a lot of other things. Or something to that effect. But that’s life …
In short: just another girl with a little something extra trying to get by and stand out and make something of herself among the 7 billion on this wretched and overcrowded planet …
I’m Fran Fried – pronounced freed, spelled fryed, pronounced the latter by telemarketers and Californians. But I’m not living in California anymore – in August 2012, after eight years in exile, in search of a steady job, and also because I really needed to come back while my parents are still alive, I moved from Fresno, the cowtown of a half-million where I lived for eight years, back across the country to Connecticut, where I lived most of my life. For now, I’m living in the house where I grew up, in the little hick town where, despite being the smartest kid in class, I was “you faggot” and variations thereof.
My age is STFU! – at least that’s what a lot of people tell me when they learn I’m 55, since I often get pegged for 35 to 40. Usually I feel about 30 spiritually; rock’n’roll is the ultimate youth serum, after all. And I’m at the tail end of the wildest, weirdest, most turbulent and soul-searching time of my life. Talk about going through adolescence and mid-life crisis at the same time … emphasis on crisis … One day, if I live through this, I swear it’ll be my book. In fact, it’s part of why I started this here blog in February 2010 – to capture some of my experiences and firm up my writing for when I do get to the book.
You see, I’ve navigated two major and unplanned life changes at once over the past eight years. One of the two alone would be enough to stop a horse. Even though, as a hardcore Gemini, I feel fully equipped to live dualities, this has been a hell of a lot to chew off. And I can’t believe I’m still alive to talk about it.
One of the changes was unemployment. That saga began on March 11, 2009, when I was laid off as an assistant features editor and night sports editor at The Fresno Bee, along with about 30 percent of McClatchy employees across the country. It was the job for which I moved cross-country in March 2004 after 20 years as a journalist (sports, music and entertainment) at two papers in Connecticut. That started a seemingly neverending odyssey through the thick of the Recession That’s Really Been a Depression. Since then, I’ve been a passenger on the job roller coaster.
I was brought back by the Bee in September 2011 as an on-call copy editor, but when my hours disappeared for good in late July 2012, I kickstarted enough money to rent a truck and head home. (See the Going Home section of my blog for the whole harrowing story.) It took until July 2013 before I landed another job: a part-time contract gig in Midtown Manhattan as a copy editor at MSN. It was the first time I walked into a workplace of total strangers as Frannie 2.0, and I thrived. But as quickly as I got up to speed and built a solid rep, Microsoft gutted MSN; it only lasted two months.
And in January 2014, I returned to yet another former employer – this time at Digital First Media, the parent company of the New Haven Register, where I had been the entertainment editor and music writer for 11 1/2 years before Fresno called. I paginated (electronically laid out) pages for the company’s 10 Northeastern dailies as a deputy on the company’s Northeast Design Hub, and I finally started slowly crawling out of my economic hole. Until December 2015, when DFM discarded the entire hub and sent our work to two other hubs where they work for Wal-Mart wages. As of March 2016, the job hunt goes on once again.
It’s been an odyssey of frustration and self-doubt and high anxiety and sometimes the blackest of thoughts, and questions about self-worth and faith, both in a higher power and self. I’ve experienced the pain of uselessness and worthlessness; the mistreatment by people who either interviewed me or said they would and jerked me around; and the desperation that comes with having the unemployment run out.
And the stress of the joblessness and semi-joblessness was a Twin Tower of Anxiety to go along with the other wild trip I’ve been through.
In January 2008, I began transitioning genders.
Simply, the plumbing says boy; the wiring has always said girl. After a lifetime of suppression – and decades of depression, low self-esteem and occasional suicidal thoughts (I’ve had many, but never acted upon them) – my epiphany came one night in January 2008. After nearly a year of baby steps, I let the girl loose that Christmastime to rave reviews in Fresno’s Tower District, the only cool section of a right-wing city.
The layoff hastened my transition, as I had to find out in a hurry whether I was interviewing for my next job as Fran or as Fran. In September 2009, I finally slayed my biggest dragon: I came out to my immediate family, then had the talk with most of the rest of my friends back home on three subsequent visits between November ’09 and February ’10. As of November 2010, after 14 months of weirdness and hell, my family was on board with me. My elderly, devoutly Roman Catholic parents are totally fine with me now, actually – a big star to them for that.
I also began therapy in September ’09 as a prelude to starting hormone replacement therapy, which I commenced in late April 2010. On Sept. 16, 2010, my name was legally changed to Fran; five days later, I went to the DMV for the new name, photo and gender on my license – I was legally recognized as female by the state of California. And now Connecticut does the same.
I pass very well; you wouldn’t know unless you knew. (Well, now you know, right?) And along the way, the support I’ve gotten from most people, friends, kin and strangers alike, has been far more than I ever could have hoped for; I must’ve racked up a supertanker full of karma points. I drank the Facebook Kool-Aid in January 2011, and my circle of friends on both sides of the country exploded. (Conversely, I’ve discovered that there is no such thing as a transgender “community”; I’ve been treated much, much better by the everyday, nontrans world.) I wrote about my experiences in op-ed pieces in the Register in June 2011 and May 2015, and online in The New York Times in May 2015.
But my job (or lack thereof) and my gender (or double thereof) in no way define all of me. I’ve lived a cool and interesting life; that’s for damn sure. Not quite Zelig-like, but I’ve met and talked with enough famous people that you’d accuse me of being a shameless name-dropper.
Music has always been my big passion. I was a music writer for 20 years and since January 1991, I’ve hosted radio shows on and off at WPKN, a 10,000-watt nonprofit community station at 89.5 FM (wpkn.org) in Bridgeport. And on my 20th anniversary on the air, Jan. 4, 2011, I had my coming-out to my radio listeners. And since February 2013, I’ve hosted “Franorama 2.0” regularly on a Connecticut-based online station, Cygnus Radio.
Favorite musical performers (aside from Brian Wilson, on a planet unto himself): The Fleshtones, Greenpoint’s emperors of super rock, the uncrowned kings of pop and soul, since 1976. Other faves: the monks (the great lost American band), The Reducers (rocking New London 1978-2012), garage from the ’60s and beyond, The Beatles (pre-1967), Northern soul, NRBQ, Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, Marvin Gaye, Black 47, The Shangri-Las, The Phil Spector girls (Ronettes, Crystals, Darlene Love), The Sonics, Bobby Fuller, The Ramones, The Kinks, The Remains and a whole library of other sounds.
But there are a lot of other cool things in my life. Like Hot Wheels. (Or, as I call them now, the stupid toy cars.) I may have a girl’s fashion sense, but I’ve always been a sucker for cars. The Mongoose-Snake Drag Race Set was my all-time favorite Christmas toy, when I was 9, and I started collecting cars in 1995. I had to slow down when I got to Fresno, and of course I stopped when I lost my job. But I have a monster collection by average standards, though small in comparison to some of the real hardcores.
Like pinball. (All time-faves include Gottlieb’s Hearts and Spades and Pro Football, The Addams Family, Terminator 2, Elvis and Family Guy.) Or movies. (All-time fave: Citizen Kane.)
Like real cars. (Personal wish-for: a ’65 Impala SS convertible, 327, Turbo 400 tranny, Artesian Turquoise/sea foam green with white interior, killer sound system and mad white/silver paisley trim.) Or paisley. Or purple. Or sushi. Or shoes. Or history and current events. Or shoes. Or shoes, my first visual cue as a child that I was a little different …
And Jeopardy! Been wanting to be on the show since it began in 1964. (Yes, that long.) I’ve made it to the contestant pool three times, trying out as Frannie 2.0 for the first time in November 2010. One of my life’s goals is to be a five-time champ – the old-school mark of excellence. I make a mean pub quiz teammate, but Jeopardy! will always be the platinum standard. And I guess being the first transgender contestant on the show would be pretty cool, too, but not nearly as cool as winning a bundle.
So anyway, this blog is about a little of this, a little of that, and a lot of passion. It might help you understand the whole gender transition thang and what I’m going through. It has also gotten me back to writing about music from time to time. And it keeps my writing chops up, gives me a little bit of structure … and the blogging, along with the bike riding, has been great therapy. And maybe this becomes the foundation of a book at some point.
Now to just get my mojo back …
So strap in – here goes nothing …
1) All the opinions in the blog are mine, and are not necessarily the beliefs of any employer past, present or future.
2) All blog entries are original – written and copyrighted by me and not plagiarized in any way, shape or form. In the spirit of the journalist I once was and perhaps am again, any passages I take from elsewhere, such as quotes or pieces of a news story, will be accompanied by an attribution at the very least, as well a link to the original source occasionally.
If you see someone lifting any of my material without attribution, please let me know. Hell hath no fury like a woman plagiarized …