(This is the 1st part of a suite of four on Peter Solis Nery’s Baby Project, wherein PSN contemplates on the possibility of becoming a father at age 50.)
THE ORGY
For the longest time, I resisted the idea of having my own biological children.
I grew up poor.
And for most of my life, I have struggled with a “poor artist” existence.
I didn’t want to raise a child in poverty.
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And until 2006, I believed that to have children, I have to marry a woman.
I ended up marrying a man in 2008.
I married an older gentleman.
We had a great life.
We were happy together.
*
My gay husband was happy and content with me.
I was happy and content myself.
Adopting a child was out of the question.
I didn’t want a competition for my husband’s attention.
He didn’t want a competition for mine.
We were already a complete, happy family.
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Then, my husband died.
I was (and am now) single again.
And I love it!
I am happy and content with being single.
I was single most of my adult life.
I was only married for six years, although I was with the person who was my husband for eight.
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I have no problem living alone.
I have no problem being single.
I have no fear being alone when I get older.
I’m not worried that I will be alone when I am older.
I am not worried that no family or relative is going to take care of me in my old age.
I have money for that!
*
I was a happy single guy until I was 39.
I was a happily married gay man for six years until I was 45.
I am a happy widower since my husband died.
I have lots of godchildren who adore me; and students who remember me fondly.
I have no need for my own children.
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Also, I started getting wonderful nephews and nieces.
Because I wasn’t really there financially for my brothers and sisters when they were growing up, I thought I should be there for my nephews and nieces if something tragic happens to my siblings.
So, yeah, if something happens to me right now, my nephews and nieces stand to inherit whatever worldly wealth and possessions I have amassed.
I’m okay with that thought.
*
But I will turn 50 next year.
And 50 is a landmark year.
And, of course, I think a little about it.
Thus, this midlife crisis.
This existential crisis.
What have I done with my life?
*
Have I done enough?
What will be my legacy?
Have I left enough good deeds to mark my existence on this planet?
My books, my literature, my movies, my Foundation—are they enough?
Have I left people with enough good and happy memories?
Have I killed enough people, or f*cked enough camels, to be remembered for my notoriety?
*
With big 50 coming, most people who know me egged me on.
I should have a baby.
I told them I’m too old to have a baby at 50.
They begged to disagree.
Unlike female eggs, my sperms have no expiration dates, they say.
I can be a father at 75, if I choose to.
*
I still resisted the idea.
Until about late June.
I was thinking, Starting July, I will have a six-month countdown to my 50th birthday.
I’m already planning a weeklong birthday orgy.
And why not?
I was thinking something really debauch.
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The orgy will have six boys and a girl.
The five boys are to represent every decade I have lived, and the other one is “for the road”.
I thought the girl should be fair game for all.
But especially for the boys, if I am not available at the moment, or otherwise engaged.
Imagine us on an island.
*
Okay, an island resort.
All by ourselves for one whole week.
And all game for total debauchery.
One on one.
Threesomes. Groupies.
Whatever I want.
Whatever my money can buy.
*
And then, I thought, why not the girl, too?
Six boys, one for each day of the week.
And the girl can be the final day treat for me.
Like a Sunday’s best dish.
That will be wicked.
That will be a memorable 50! (To be continued) (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
