Well, Apparently I Wrote a Damn Book
Well apparently I wrote a damn book.
I don't know what else to call it. It's 77 pages long, it's got a cover, there's a beginning and an end, and I'm charging $9.99 for the damn thing. So I guess that makes it a book.
Wasn't exactly what I had planned.
This started because y'all ask me a lot of questions. And I mean a lot of questions.
Most of them I don't mind. Some of them make me laugh. Every once in a while I read one and think what in the hell makes somebody comfortable enough to ask another grown man that.
Then I usually answer it anyway.
But there's one I've gotten over and over since all this started.
Joe, are you gay?
There it is.
I know damn well some of you clicked on this just because I wrote that.
That's alright. I'd probably do the same thing.
Anyway, I decided I was finally gonna answer it.
Not dance around it. Not give one of those answers where I talk for three paragraphs and somehow never actually answer the question. I was just gonna answer it and be done with it.
That was the plan.
Then I started answering some of the other questions people have asked me.
How'd I get into construction? Why don't I date? What do I actually do when I'm not working? What makes me happy? What scares me? What turns me on? What has being Tucker's dad done to me?
And somewhere in there this thing got away from me.
A question that should've taken me a paragraph to answer had me thinking about something that happened twenty years ago. Then that reminded me of somebody else. Then I started thinking about my marriage. Then Tucker. Then getting older. Then money. Then God.
Next thing I know I'm sitting there writing shit I don't think I've ever told anybody on Facebook.
Some of it I wasn't even sure I wanted to put in there.
But I did.
SO WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?
I think what happened is I quit trying to answer questions and just started talking.
That's probably the easiest way to explain it.
If you've followed me for any amount of time, you know I'm pretty good at that once I get going.
I talked about growing up. Construction. My marriage. Being single. Sex. Getting older. Money. Independence. Things I'm afraid of. Things I probably should've done differently. What I believe about God.
And I talked a lot about being Tucker's dad.
That part probably surprised me more than anything.
There's a question in there about what I want Tucker to remember about me someday.
I had to sit with that one for a minute.
Because I don't want that kid remembering me like I was some great man who had all the answers. He lived with me. He knows better than that.
He's seen me pissed off. He's seen me tired. He's seen me screw shit up. I'm sure he's heard words come out of my mouth that he probably shouldn't repeat at school.
What I want him to remember is that I was real with him.
I want him to know his dad had flaws and still managed to get up every morning and keep going.
And more than anything, I want him to know I had his back.
Always.
That's the kind of shit I ended up writing about.
Which is kinda funny considering this whole thing started because everybody wanted to know if I'm gay.
AND YES. I ANSWERED THE DAMN QUESTION.
I can already hear somebody saying, alright Joe, enough about Tucker. Did you answer it or not?
Yes.
I answered it.
It's in there.
I'm not gonna put the answer in this post because then half of you cheap bastards wouldn't buy the book.
I'm kidding.
Mostly.
But here's the weird part.
By the time I finished the whole thing, that question didn't seem nearly as important as it did when I started.
I'm not saying it isn't personal. It is. And I'm not saying people aren't curious. Obviously they are.
I just realized there's a hell of a lot more to explaining who I am than telling somebody who I do or don't want to sleep with.
Maybe that's what this thing ended up being.
Not an autobiography. Good Lord, I'm 53 years old. I'm not sitting here writing my memoirs like I'm about to ride off into the sunset.
And it sure as hell isn't one of those books where I'm gonna teach you seven steps to becoming a better man.
I don't know the seven steps.
I probably skipped three of them myself.
It's just a bunch of questions that got me talking about my life.
So I called it THIS IS ME.
Couldn't think of anything more complicated than that, and I'm glad I couldn't.
That's really what it is.
Me.
The good parts. Some of the screwed-up parts. Some funny shit. Some serious shit. And a few things I wasn't planning on telling anybody when I sat down to do this.
If you've been following me and you want to know a little more about the guy you've been wasting your time reading every day, there you go.
I made you a damn book.
JOE DURST
THIS IS ME
You asked the questions.
I ended up telling you my life.
77 PAGES • DIGITAL BOOK • $9.99
Still can't believe I wrote that sentence.
Anyway.
I've got shit to do.
— Joe
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