Getting Marriage Back To Being About Love

When it comes to gay rights and the gay 'agenda', straight people think that we're seeking some sort of extra benefits or protections or laws when we are just looking for what everyone else has.  Some 1,100+ benefits, laws, protections and rights and not afforded us simply because of who we love.  Straight people take for granted the things that come naturally to them via laws, the Constitution and the influence of the Church.  We only want what everyone else already has.  Nothing more, but certainly not anything less.

Since it is the 'fight' for equality, logic would suggest that any change would come from the side fighting for the thing in question.  It's fairly confusing that the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA) by it's very title, wasn't put forth by gays as a way to petition for their rights to marry but, rather, by conservative, religious zealots in an effort to 'protect' the sanctity of (straight) marriage.  Considering that divorce is actually a sin in the Bible punishable by the stoning of the wife and that the current divorce rates are around 50%... and that people get married several times... and with all the adultery going on... I'd say that the only protection they need is from themselves.  How my getting married to a man is going to affect their marriage is beyond me.  In fact, and I've said this before but rarely hear it being brought up (oddly not by conservative Republicans who you'd think would be leading the charge), the only thing that my marriage would have that would affect them is that we would be able to file our taxes jointly just as any other married couple, therefore lowering the tax base.  Actually, they may have had better luck calling it the Defense of Tax Revenue Act.  Then there would be some actual logic brought into the conversation, not just hate and prejudice.  For the life of me, I don't understand how black's rights are voted on by whites... how women's rights are voted on by men... and how gay's rights are voted on by straights.  Is it me, or is there something wrong with this process.

Today, in a historical vote, the Supreme Court ruled DOMA unconstitutional and shot down Prop8 in California as well, which means it is federally legal for gays to marry and in California as well.  As an older gay male, while we've strived for this sort of thing for so long, I never thought I would see it in my life span.  I couldn't help welling up with tears as I read response after response on Facebook... stunned and afraid to believe it.  And while many are currently in committed relationships that this will have an immediate effect, for me, I have to take this as a win for humanity.  With the public's opinion changing so much over the last couple of years, it's a good feeling that I have today about my country.  And while we're still behind the 8-ball in comparison to many other countries and we still have a long way to go, we are moving ahead.  Rights in estates, survivorship, taxes, Social Security, medical coverage and power of attorney, government spousal benefits... just to name a few of the 1,100+... will now be recognized.  These decisions will be the basis for arguments in the future towards a more equal America.

It's difficult for people to equate our journey with that of other equal rights groups such as the Jews, blacks, women, etc... but there's been as much hardship and hatred and bloodshed and loss of life fueled by the same sort of prejudice and, not so oddly, from the same group, passed on from generation to generation.  Hopefully, that way of thinking is on it's way out replaced with tolerance and acceptance and love.  Much thanks is due our straight allies for their support in making this cause their own. It's time that we minorities rise up as a majority and get what is rightfully ours under the Constitution... which doesn't just pertain to white, straight, religious males... but to everyone.  Life, Liberty, The Pursuit of Happiness.... and Justice For ALL.

A Few In a Sea of Many

 

Last week was Pittsburgh's pride festival.  It was so great to see people that I haven't seen in years and with 30,000 showing up, it was a really nice day, but enough to put me into gay overload.  I was planning to go to Columbus' parade this past weekend but wasn't sure if I could deal with 300,000 gays after 30,000.  I decided to take the plunge and within a half hour, I booked a hotel for the two days I'd be there, packed my 18 t-shirts (a gay needs choices) and I was out the door.  One factor in my decision was that a guy from Charlotte that I had never met that I've been talking to on Facebook for a year was heading there with a few of his friends I and thought it's as good a place as any to finally meet him.  We all met up at a bar later that night and had a great time.  His friends were so nice and you could tell they had a really tight friendship going on back home.  We spent the night bar-hopping and drinking and laughing and the time went by so fast but seemed to stand still, as well, not really aware of what was going on around us.  There wasn't any drama and we all enjoyed each other's company so much, it was as though we were the only ones no matter where we went.

The next morning was the parade and we leisurely made our way downtown right about the time that it was starting and we stopped to have lunch while the parade went on down the street.  We finally made it to the parade and watched for a little bit, then went to the park where everyone was going to end up.  With the oppressive heat, we found a tree to sit under and met up with my other friends from Columbus, Matt and Scott, and just sat and chit-chatted.  When we had enough, we walked around the mall and had dinner and then hung out in the hotel, not even going out that second night, content to just be in each other's company.  It was so refreshing to just get to know each other and that they welcomed me into their fold, not feeling like we were missing a thing or on the constant pursuit of getting some 'strange'.

One of the pivotal points in the life of a gay is that time where you have a fresh outfit all laid out on the bed on a Saturday night and it suddenly hits you that you're not missing anything if you don't go... and having some down time or spending the time one-on-one with a friend or lover or even curled up on the couch with your dog is a better prospect.  When you're with someone and it's like they are the only person on the planet;  everything and everyone else fades into the background and you are so focused on them that you don't even notice what's going on around you... you don't notice a hot guy that walks in front of you because you don't care... that's the best time.  I've always said that it's about quality, not quantity, and that especially pertains to friends.  I don't need to surround myself with the masses nor do I need to parade myself around for attention.  I am content with just having good people around me with good conversation and even with being surrounded by 300,000 gays, the beating of drums, twirling of the batons, the tossing of free candy and condoms, and hot-pants and high-heels galore... human interaction and friendship are most valued to me and still at the core of who I am as a person. 

Wanderlust or Wonder-lost?

I blame my parents.  Both of them, biological and adoptive, had a hand in my constant state of unrest.  Everything about me stems from movement, from my hyperactive energy and Gemini rising and relentless drive to accomplish... to my adoption itself.  My mind is perpetually going a mile a minute, debating and thinking and analyzing and deciding... looking at every side to a situation and my body isn't far behind.  I catch myself tapping my thumb on my teeth while I'm watching TV or go through nervous ticks so often that I seriously am concerned that I have Parkinson's Disease.  I've moved 38 times in my 46 years.  I've had countless jobs and career changes.  Normally, I love all the goings-on, but lately, and as I get older, I question whether I want it to stop.  I seek out peace and quiet and calmness.  I avoid taking trips and being away from home.  Has my wonderment disappeared?  I've had an incessant desire to be anywhere but where I am, not so much running away from anything, but running to... but to what?

I've spent a good 20 years searching for answers to my birth and adoption.  Little by little, I have come across information, sometimes stumbling upon it, and have been able to put the pieces together, but still not entirely... and not with 100% certainty.  Not knowing my complete history has created and unsteady foundation upon which my whole existence is built, and without an understanding of your beginning, it makes it almost impossible to have a middle or an end. 

My birth mother was a bit of a tramp and a roustabout.  She went with a lot of guys (even while married), moved around a lot and had several jobs.  In total, she had 9 kids from various suitors partly because she was such a beautiful, free-spirited kind of gal... and partly because she liked the attention of the male persuasion... and apparently could never find a condom in her purse for all the slips of paper with men's numbers on them.  My biological father killed himself after getting the news that my birth mother was pregnant with me but before I was born, which suggests some mental instability with him, to say the least.  I get my depression and ups and downs from him.  Not quite the rollercoaster ride you'd like with a father, but movement, nonetheless. 

My adoptive mother had a severe case of OCD... since she didn't work after they got married and didn't drive, she cleaned... a lot.  My most vivid memories of my Mom are of her cleaning something... and instead of remembering her perfume, I can still remember what Murphy's Oil Soap and Lemon Pledge mixed together smells like.  My Mom wanted to be a singer and she had an opportunity to tour with Fred Waring and Pennsylvanians, but her Mom wouldn't let her go, so she married my Dad and settled down in the suburbs in a nice house with a big yard... with no one around her... and she was miserable.  My Dad worked on the railroad and was gone several days in a row, sometimes home for a few hours before he'd get called out on another trip.  So they adopted my brother first, then adopted me.  She wanted a daughter... well, she almost got one with me... close enough.  She loved clothes and getting all dressed up, but she had nowhere to go.  She loved to get in the car and go and especially loved our vacations to Myrtle Beach every year.  When my Dad retired, she was raring to go, but my Dad was tired from his physical job, and he pretty much sat for a few years and did nothing.  She passed away a few years later, never getting to do the traveling that she wanted.  Most of the conflict between us was that I left for Philadelphia when I was 20 and I honestly felt that she was jealous that I got out and she never could.

I've been fortunate to do some traveling in my life.  I've been to Paris, most of the islands in the Caribbean and all the St.'s... Mexico, on several cruises and throughout the continental U.S. and Canada.  I've gone from Pittsburgh to Philadelphia so many times, I can drive the PA Turnpike with my eyes closed.  There have been some things that grounded me over the years... a few relationships... having my dog for 12 years (although I moved her so many times that even she got confused when I asked her if she needed to go out and make a sissy, she'd run to the closet door more often than not)... and, currently, having my Dad live with me. 

But I'm most at home when I'm on the road, especially without any definite plan or path. I guess that's what my life has been about... moving without a plan from no definite starting point.  I've always said that you need security in insecurity;  that if you had confidence in what you can accomplish, you could accomplish anything no matter what came your way.  I didn't have a definite beginning... I wasn't handed some family business... I don't have a fancy degree... I've had to overcome things along the way and, most times, it was getting out of my own way... but the point is, while there are things that make up who I am, it's what I make of them that is going to get me through life's journey.  Maybe one day I'll reach the destination, but for now, I'll just roll the windows down and let wind blow me forward and not spend so much time looking in the rear-view mirror.

I recently cancelled my travel plans for the summer... I'm just not feeling it.  What's happening to me?  Am I settling?  Maybe I have replaced my wanderlust with lost wonder.

Just Jack

With Pittsburgh's gay pride festivities this past weekend, it's always nice to see people you haven't seen in a long time, support some good causes and, of course, see the sights... both good and bad.  The party in the streets is pretty much the bars, but outside... and it can be very unforgiving.  What can be hidden in the aptly-lit lounge is out on display in all it's solar glory.  There's no hiding from the broad daylight.... and by 'broad daylight', I mean a man dressed as a broad in the daylight... among other things.  So I did what any self-respecting gay would do... I colored the grays, did some push-ups, put on a tight shirt and headed out to see and be seen.

When I came out as a gay man when I was 20 in 1987 in Philadelphia, things were much different than they are now.  We were in the middle of the AIDS epidemic and every event you went to was a fund-raiser.  It was rammed down your throat that AIDS=death.  We were very aware of what was going on and what those who came before us accomplished on our behalf, like Stonewall, for instance... and how that became the single most important event leading to the gay liberation movement and the modern fight for gay and lesbian rights.  I'm not sure if today's young gays get any of that stuff.  For them, it's just a reason to take off your clothes in the street and drink.  HIV is just something you get to get it over with so you don't have to worry about using condoms and you just take a pill or ten.  Things come too easily for them nowadays.  A lot of the work has been done and the doors have been opened by the likes of Will and Grace.  In our day, the movie The Boys in the Band was groundbreaking.  Never before had we seen the gay lifestyle up on the big screen.  It got real... real fast.  It was as shocking as it was titillating. 

In 1987, the homosexual 'approval rating' dropped from 44% to 32%, I'm guessing due to the AIDS scare.  Since then, it's been on the climb to the current 58%, almost the highest it's ever been.  I can remember it was the consensus that as more and more people came out and had their family's support and the more people could say they know a gay... that it would slowly climb and that's exactly what it's done.  It's strange seeing it happen some 25 years later... it was unfathomable to even think that far ahead at that age.  Slowly, the closet door opened out popped a bunch of gays.

I have attended many gay parades in different cities over the years and even went to the March on Washington in the early nineties.  It never fails that any news coverage of the events is always of someone half-naked or in some outrageous outfit.  I always thought that as the public realized that we were essentially just like them (except more fabulous)... doctor's, lawyers, fireman, policemen, etc... that it would open their eyes and we would gain acceptance.  Unfortunately, what opens their eyes on the TV is Dykes on Bikes and the tall drag queens... or something of that nature, and I always thought it didn't do our cause any good.  I'm not so sure any more.  In fact, dare I say, I had it completely wrong.

As I walked around, I'm ashamed to say that I spent an unhealthy amount of time worrying if my shirt was going to get wet from the rain and was my hat on straight and if I got too drunk and made an ass out of myself and... and... and.  Meanwhile, all around me were people being themselves.  They didn't give a shit if they got wet... they weren't obsessing about what they had on... and they were drinking and having a great time... singing and dancing and mingling and just being themselves.  I don't know why I can't just let go and be me... what is it that I'm afraid of... what would happen if I was myself... and who the hell is that to begin with?  At 46 and after all the self-reflection I've done through my blog, I spend too much time being composed and in control.  It was about that time in the day that I realized that it wasn't me trying to give straight people what they wanted that was advancing our cause... it was the people being themselves... that further our cause because they push the boundaries... they do what they want, when they want to do it and they don't care what anyone thinks, and that's what gets people to notice and once the shock value wears off, they realize that the gays are really no big deal and they go back to watching Duck Dynasty and shooting at cans.

Also, about that time, an interesting group of guys and girls (both dressed in gowns) came onto the stage called The Pillow Project.  They describe themselves (as per their Facebook Page (check out their upcoming event schedule)) as the collaborative work under the direction of improvisational artist and multimedia filmmaker, Pearlann Porter; a new movement in Freejazz (using the body as the instrument playing visual notes… an instrument that is the musician….the study of how dance and music can visually and spontaneously play together) created by a passionate collection of experimental performing artists for igniting new ideas in spontaneous expression.  At first, I can honestly say the hot guys in dresses drew me in... but it was their random flow of energy and spontaneous, haphazard expression that kept me mesmerized.  Movement set to music kept you watching to see what happened next and without a script or plan, they acted and reacted off each other constantly.  The same thing was happening in the streets all day long.


The whole day made me wish I had the nerve to be as free as everyone around me. I guess it's time I be more of a Jack or Emory... and not worry about what people think... least of all, myself.  I'm really not doing anyone any good.

Walk The Line

I always have to credit blogging for the work I did on myself in examining my behaviors.  Nothing is as telling as sitting down and truthfully writing to a bunch of strangers.  When we talk with our friends and family, are we really ever truthful?  After all, we have to see these people on a daily basis and no one wants to paint themselves as an asshole or a crazy.  In the end, though, it's the 'strangers' that probably know the real me.  I suppose I have myself to blame for that, but people are smart enough to take the façade that you present and see through that eventually.  Still, for me, there's no better therapy than getting it all out on paper so you can see it all in front of you.  Once you do, then you can figure out what parts you like and what parts cause you grief and figure out a plan of action to change those behaviors and I have a long way to go... it's an ongoing project.  This is the natural process... at least for some of us.

I've always come from a position of dotting my 'i's' and crossing my 't's'.  With my managerial background in operations, I'm trained to look at a situation and find solutions not only for the problem at hand, but for the problems that could arise and solve them before they happen.  As a little girl, err... boy... in Brownie Troop #317, err... Boy Scouts, they taught us to 'be prepared'.  When we're looking at our relationships, we first have to look at ourselves and our responsibility in a situation.  We have to have done the work on ourselves before we go out and expect to have successful experiences in our interactions with others.  If an altercation arises and we have done our part to accept our own responsibility and make amends, don't take shit from no one.  If you do, you are doing yourself a disservice.

Being adopted, I have always felt that I had no foundation from which to grow.  It took me twenty some years to put the pieces together and I'm still not sure 100 percent.  That feeling of being given away or not wanted stays with you... at some point, you realize this.  And while I had a wonderful upbringing, my Mom wasn't exactly the warm and fuzzy type, so that while I'm sure she loved me, she certainly didn't show it.  With my brother a complete idiot and my Dad always traveling for work, I don't have deep roots in my family and, as a result, I have always looked to friends to fill that gap.  Somewhere along the way, I developed a strong need to be surrounded by good friends, not in quantity, but in quality.  With my expectations set too high, probably based on what I give, I badly need to feel important and wanted but rarely do.  I give a lot in my friendships and relationships and ask for very little back, which is probably why I get just that.  I can't really blame anyone except myself.  I put up with a lot of shit from people before I blow my top, and when I do, it's usually at a point of no return and the people around me don't see it coming... mainly because they haven't been paying attention.  The signs were there all along, but when they're treading along, usually all over you... it comes as a complete surprise, especially when they fail to take responsibility for their actions and behaviors.  I don't forget anything... there's a running tab in my head.  I'm not perfect, but I at least try to accept my part and make amends without lying or twisting things and I have an unhealthy habit of apologizing for things that I didn't do just to smooth things over... and keep those people in my life... so that they can basically keep on treating me like crap.  It's something that I'm working on.  Sometimes I wish I could just go around being selfish... but at the end of the day, I can look at myself in the mirror and after questioning my own crazy... know that I'm not.

I'm known for my sharp-tongued emails.  While I don't go around bullying people, I definitely am not afraid to speak my mind.  I have few regrets for things that I've said over my lifetime.  If I said it, I meant it and it's probably rooted in some truth that the other person doesn't want to hear.  I don't go looking for trouble but at the time that I unleash my wrath, I've basically moved on in my head.  It's usually the end of the friendship or relationship, and I definitely don't have any problem walking away.  I don't want bad people in my life and I think that I deserve the respect and consideration that I give.  People say to me "but you were really good friends"... to which I reply... "no, I was a good friend to THEM". 

Over the last year (and particularly the last week or so), I have walked away from several people that weren't treating me as I treat them.  The way I figure it, there are many more people that I haven't met in this world and sometimes the unknown is a much better bet than the known.  The people that I have let go will never look honestly at themselves... their world is built on a fragile house of cards and they're too stupid to realize that if they would take a good look at themselves and do the work, all aspects of their life would be better.  Instead, they walk around with a false sense of security that the people around them give a shit about them and they are blameless.  Why wouldn't you want a better life?

I can honestly say that the people around me are, now, good people.  I would rather be alone than surround myself with idiots... fortunately, what's left of my friend-base are genuine, honest people, and I am grateful to have them in my life.

Mowing Down the Past

I had the opportunity the other day to take on grass cutting for a new client... the people who currently own my Dad's old house... the house where I was born and raised.  As it turns out, the people who bought it from us recently sold it and, as I often do, I rode past it last week when I heard new people moved in.  The yard was haphazardly cut... broken branches were piled up around the trees and the grass was a foot tall in spots.  So I knocked on the door and told her who I was and offered my card and services.  About a week later, she called me and told me to come by and help her.

I have to admit that while I solicited the job, I had my hesitations.  I've been cutting that grass since I was little and I had a hard time imagining myself riding around the yard again... and what I'd be thinking of while doing it.  So many memories there... everything that I look at stirs up some thoughts of the past, both good and bad.  The driveway, where my Dad let us drive the car up and down... and where I made all my Matchbox roads on... the stone wall where I ran the car into... and where I would burn my model cars on... the weird piece of white spongy stuff that was embedded into the cement parking pad... the river rock that I painted a smiley face on was still in the rock garden... the budding peonies that my Mom loved... the 1980 Lake Placid Olympic sticker still stuck to the garage door window... the wooden step still nailed to the tree that I used to climb... the spot by the road where my paper route box sat... the attic window where I would sit and look out at the planes that flew overhead and that I would wait to see my Dad's car coming down the road... the lilac tree that I would pick flowers for my Mom (her favorite flowers)... the spot in the yard that we'd play baseball and the other spot that we used as our football field.  But there were some things that were gone as well;  the two apple trees that I would gather apples from so my Mom could make pies... the giant weeping willow tree that I would always climb (and fell from, which screwed up my back)... where the swing set used to sit that I climbed up on and dropped the hammer on my brother's head... the dog pen where Jeffy and Benny (my Dad's hunting Beagles) lived... the screen door that would be left open and unlocked, with the smell of spring and summer wafting in... the fire barrel that I would burn the garbage in... the overhead wire that our dog, Lucky, would run the width of the yard, the hill that I would jump my Suzuki motorcycle off of... the Easter eggs from the hunt we'd have for the neighbor kids... all the friends that would gather in our yard... and the years in the house without my Mom.

As difficult as it was to remember, it was equally difficult to live in the reality of the now.  My Mom is gone, my Dad is old and the property isn't anywhere near what it used to be.  With my Dad fixing everything and all of us taking care of the outside... and my Mom and her cleaning OCD, it's a shock to see the house now.  About 7 hours later, I had all the sticks picked up... had the hedges trimmed... had the grass all cut and everything weed-wacked and the whole while, I was torn between wanting to get out of there because it was no longer my home... and not wanting to leave, so as to not let go of the past.  Getting it cleaned up was the most miserable job... some areas I had to run the mower over 4 or 5 times.  I was exhausted and disgusted, yet I felt I owed it to the house and the memories.

I spoke briefly to the new owner (while her daughter played in the yard) and I went into some of my memories of the house growing up.  She was appreciative of the information, but I realized halfway through that my memories and what we did and how I grew up there means nothing to anyone else.  Those experiences that we have throughout our lives are exactly that; ours, and ours alone.  They are unique and make us who we are. 

I'm glad I grew up in that house... I had a great childhood.  It might not be my house any more, but it'll always be where I called home.

The Road To Success Is Paved....

Good intentions...  I have them every time I think that I'm going to be able to be consistent with blogging regularly again.  Looking back, I don't know how I did it.  I'm pretty sure I was busier before... or maybe it was the issues that I wanted to work through that motivated me to write.  I think the past election had a big effect on me in that I still get angry at everything, but I have no energy to get riled up about stuff.  I got spent with dealing with all that.  I'm more apt to just walk away from a fight or conflict... and even a friendship, at this point.  I've been trying to keep moving forward lately, but I feel like I'm in a boat with no paddle... I'm drifting towards my destination but not making enough progress... and even going backwards at times.

I have made a lot of progress over the last couple of months.  For the majority of January and February, I worked at my Uncle's house.  Last year, when his wife passed, he moved in with my Aunt and basically walked right out of his house and left it... refrigerator still running with food in it... cupboards full of food, clothes in the drawers, etc.  I went through every single thing in that house, sorting through their 60 years in the house together.  Underwear drawers, old pictures, Xmas decorations, clothing, furniture, personal effects.... everything.  I couldn't help but to feel odd since I really wasn't close to them... but I was all they had to help them.  I had to approach it like the daunting task that it was, making decisions about what was important and what wasn't... what was to be kept, sold, given away, donated... which is a difficult position to be in.  I had done it when my Mom passed and I moved my Dad in with me, so I had some experience with it, but it's never easy.  My Dad really didn't want to take much with him, oddly, so it was simple.  This was harder... having to deal with my Aunt who is a control freak... and my Uncle (90 years old), most times, coming into the house every day crying because his wife wasn't there, his stuff was being thrown out and the house was being stripped for painting/remodeling, getting ready for sale.  I pulled up carpet, refinished wood floors, took down heavy draperies and sheers full of dust, ripped out the bathroom (and put in a new vanity, lights, toilet and floor) and painted a lot of the house.  It wasn't easy for anyone.  I couldn't help think who'd be going through my things when I go... and realizing how much crap you accumulate over the years that you really don't need.  You think it's important at the time, but in the end, it's not.  All that money spent... all those good times... all that comfort... gone.

My season started a few days after I finished with the house, mid-March.  It's been so cold here and been snowing so much that I haven't been able to do much, like last year, when it was 75 in March and I had already cut the grass 5 times by this time.  I bid on another hotel this year but didn't get it, which is kind of ok.  I thought that I would want to expand heavily this year, feeling that I really haven't been aggressive with my business and, as it turns out... I was right...I wasn't, and I'm not really that worried about it.  It would have meant hiring someone, getting insurance and working even longer hours, and I'm just not ready for that.  I did make a major purchase in buying a 6 X 12 enclosed trailer and sold my 5 X 8 open flatbed trailer.  I got a great deal on it and was able to take an empty shell and reinforce the sides to be able to hang my tools and built shelves in the front for everything else.  I am now able to get everything I need in there, locked and dry, unlike the other one.  It makes such a difference to not have to take everything off the trailer to tip it to get the tractor off, let alone not having all my tools on there all the time and having to go home to get something.  Not only that, but I cleaned out my whole garage and now I can park my truck in there.  The trailer is too big for my driveway, so I'm storing it at work.  It just feels so good to be so organized.  I have two guys and 24 yards of mulch coming on Sunday... it's supposed to be 60ish degrees.  Fun times!

 

I decided on a name for my business... Cedar Grove Landscaping.  I'm in the process of initiating an LLC and registering the name to protect myself from liability.  My friend in Florida that owns a printing business came up with the logo for me, which I love.  I was looking for something whimsical and sort of Charlie Brown / 70's / retro, and he nailed it.  I had business cards made up and some signs for the side of the trailer.

With being sick the month of December and then spending January and February at my Uncle's house, I didn't have my normal winter time off.  The real deciding factor to not expand this year was that my back has been acting up again.  The herniated discs are bulging on both the right and left side of my spine, so walking, jumping and, especially, sitting has been difficult.  It's not a muscle pain... it's a nerve pinch, where it feels like a knife being jammed in and my legs giving way.  Add that, now that I'm almost 46, I had no energy... I was so exhausted for months until a friend of mine got me some testosterone shots, and I've been doing them several times a week over the last 4 or 5 weeks which has helped dramatically with my energy.  I'm trying to also make a commitment to the gym, which is helping with a much-needed weight loss and general strength training and toning.  I'm in pretty bad shape... I went so many years with nothing wrong with me then, all of a sudden, I'm falling apart.  I bought an inversion table and have been hanging upside down quite a bit to stretch my back, and that's helping.  I also bought a bigger bike... it's a 29 inch, and I love it... not that I've had much opportunity to ride yet.  I'm trying to stay active... I have to.

I just booked my yearly trip out west... something to look forward to.  I'm flying into Denver early July for 8 days.  A friend of mine who is driving across the country for 4 weeks is picking me up there, and we are hitting Arches, Monument Valley, Badlands, and Bryce and Zion... several that I wasn't able to hit last year.  He'll drop me off in Vegas on his way to California, and I'll spend a few days there before heading back.  I'm so excited!  If there's anything that I've learned from the experience at my Uncle's, it's that you can't wait around... you have to just go do it... your life will be over before you know it and memories will be all you have in the end.

My Fault, Big-Time

Pedophilia by priests in the church is almost as deplorable and disgusting as the cover up by the church/Vatican itself. At least the pedophile has an illness that cannot be cured, but the Vatican made conscious decisions to put itself first and not cure this rampant disease within it's walls. Years of blaming everyone else (including the victims) and sympathizing and protecting these predators is not conducting yourself in the way that God/Jesus led. Allowing the church to act above reproach and turning a blind eye as a parish, is in and of itself cult-like and as bad as having a hand in these grossly heinous acts against the innocent yourself. How anyone can attend and give money to an establishment that spends it's time condemning everyone else for a bunch of bullshit that they, themselves, do not follow, is beyond me. How any religious person in this country can oppose, say, healthcare for the needy... one of the most important teachings of Jesus... while they sit idly by watching their basket money go to pedophile lawsuit payouts (some $2billion so far (while the church greedily files bankruptcy to protect their money from further payouts)) is disgusting, let alone hypocritical... and this Pope is at the heart of it, especially having held the office of investigative research into these acts. all the while doing nothing. Good bye and good riddance.

Although I am an Atheist and don't believe in any religious nonsense, I do believe in having spiritual guidance, although I, myself, do not partake. Years of persecution of gays by the church, Belief being behind every war, the hypocrisy and conduct like this has made it impossible for me to feel anything but contempt. I truly hope that the decline in church attendance over the years is due to people being smart enough to recognize that their spiritual connection does not have to be voiced through such an ugly puppet. In a way, people fleeing the church makes me believe in a higher power much more than when there was strength in church-goer numbers because it shows me that the actual message of God is being heard and understood and not just regurgitated by people who have no idea what any of it means.

"Mea Maxima Culpa" is the new documentary on HBO, highlighting how the Vatican covered this up for years.  "Mea Culpa" translates as "My Fault"... while "Maxima" translates as "Grand".  This could be taken as God/Jesus saying that he messed up big-time leaving his Word to a bunch of idiots to preach... or, if the Vatican had any conscience, an admittance of wrong-doing and acceptance of responsibility.  We know it's probably not the latter.  This documentary is a must-see for anyone who genuinely seeks truth in their faith leaders, especially at this point with the exit of the current Pope... hands stained with sin. 

Gently Bent; Needs Some Straightening Out

It's fitting that I'm writing a post on Groundhog Day about history repeating itself.  The great Spanish philosopher George Santayana (1863-1952) said in The Life of Reason: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it", suggesting that if we are not cognizant of our past mistakes, we'll continue to make the same mistakes over and over again.  I guess that's two-fold in that you have to be aware of them when the possibility of the mistake presents itself... and you have to do the work to make sure you've learned something to prevent it to begin with.  In Les Miserables, Jean Valjean questions himself several times... can he actually be the thief as accused... or does he have the potential to be better... and does he even know which is which?  It's something he struggles with throughout his life, particularly when faced with different challenges.  This blog has been very cathartic for me to work through many issues (and by 'many', I mean a whole shitload).  One area that I have a particular mental block is having to do with love... perhaps because there are several heads working against each other when they should be in tandem... perhaps my DNA makeup... perhaps the constant fight I have going on in my head... or perhaps it's just my eternal damnation.

For those who are familiar with my 30 year love life, this is the point where you can think "here we go again"... and go back to your internet porn.  For those gluttons for punishment or those who like to endure pain and suffering... I have managed to derail another start of a relationship.  Taking all things into consideration, I could blame the other person.  That's what most people do because, let's face it, then we don't have to look at ourselves for contribution to the problem.  In this instance (as with some others lately), it's not the other person.  In fact, he couldn't be a better person in every aspect.  I targeted him because of the kind of person that he is... caring, monogamous, kind, compassionate and funny, to name a few... all of which are difficult to find in guys in this day and age.  I instantly fell in love with the idea that he would be a safe bet and, coming off a run of assholes, it was a welcomed change and I jumped right in.  I could instantly see our lives several years down the road and it felt really comfortable... add water, instant relationship.  And then the familiar scenario happened where someone falls for me before I get a chance to really know them. I, instead, spend my time managing the situation or holding them back, never really figuring out what I feel, so I don't feel.  After 4 weeks, I totally connected with the idea of him rather than the actual person, none of it his fault.  This has happened to me in the past. 

After twenty-five years of one relationship after another, some for many years... I have always been on the relationship track way back to when I turned 21.  While my friends were out banging everything that walked, I never had much of a single life, content to be building a life with someone in our home.  After my last major relationship about 5 years ago, I haven't had much luck with steady relationships.  Since that time, while all I've ever known is relationships in the past and I continued to steer myself in that direction, changes in that time period have given me a different outlook and contributed to a me that I don't recognize. At 45, I have no idea of who I am when it comes to love.  I have no idea what it is that I need from someone or sex... or what I really want.  All I have is a track record where I've applied a formula that doesn't work for me in my current situation.  Coming to grips with that, much less accepting it, will be difficult for me being so set in my ways all these years.  The wheels of a cart can jump out of the indentation in the road, but they'll eventually fall back in.  Introducing the person that I think I am in my head with the person I actually am (in thought, practice and preference) will be a tall order.  Meanwhile, I'm steering clear of involvement along the relationship lines and sticking to areas of honest, self-discovery.

Hope Love

Walking Ten Miles to School

It's not easy getting older.  When you're young, in your teens and even in your twenties, you really don't think about getting older... it's almost unfathomable.  And when you're older, you can't stop thinking about when you were young and how you wished you knew then what you know now.  The mid-life crisis is a reality.  As your friends and relatives get older and get sick  and die and you, yourself, develop health issues, you're smacked in the face with reality.  Having my Dad live with me has been a rude awakening and now dealing with clearing out my Uncle's house after his wife died last year and he's not healthy enough to live there by himself.  As I clear out drawers and closets, the reality is that what you have kept your whole life, to show for your life, becomes someone else's burden to clean up.  70+ years of money spent, memories had and things amassed are stripped away, thrown away and emptied out.

Life was simpler then.  No responsibilities, no goals to be met, no pressures and no stress.  Your biggest problem was what you were going to do with your Saturday.  Those were the days.  We had it so good and we didn't even know it.  Things that I miss:

-  My Mom calling me in the kitchen to lick the beaters after she made a cake (with raw egg in the mix).
-  Playing with my Rolls Royce Matchbox car without worrying about having to make car or insurance payments and whether it'd be stolen or dinged up in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
-  Walking to the bus stop with a foot of snow on the ground, your nostril frozen shut and not worrying about frostbite or being stolen by a guy in a van.  And what's a 2-hour delay?
-  Taking in some sunshine laying up on the back window ledge of the car, without being seat-belted in or in a car seat.
-  Leaving the house at 8 a.m. on a summer day and not coming home until dark, walking into the house with the back door open and the screen door unlocked and parents asleep in the living room.
-  Lathering on baby oil for a few hours in the sun to get that cancer-free, deep, dark tan.
-  Torching model cars by spraying something flammable, like hair spray, while holding a match in the other hand.
-  Getting a big bag of candy for Halloween without having to check it for pins or razor blades or having to test your blood sugar for diabetes.
-  Playing doctor with the neighbor kids and not having to collect a copay or turn someone away for not having adequate coverage.
-  Being able to dream about being an astronaut, fireman or police officer when you grew up without even considering the danger involved in your career choice.

A Diamond in the Rough

It's that time of year, with Valentine's Day fast approaching... love is in the air (and, completely unrelated, the flu).  With it being cold out, you're forced indoors and under the covers.  If you're lucky to have a dog or, better yet, a significant other... then you have it made.  It's funny how we're like the bears in the sense that we hibernate in Winter.  Still, I can't imagine lying in a cave for many months, but the peace and quiet and rest would be nice.  Lord knows, I have enough fat to live off.

I know a lot of people who have found a special someone lately, myself included.  The Greek god of love must be shining down on us all... maybe 2013 is the year.  Now 45, I don't think I've ever been so sexually charged as I am at this age.  I totally believe in guys maturing sexually later in life... not to be confused with your teen years and early twenties when your wiener got hard with the slightest breeze.  It's different at this age because you know what to do with that energy.  This is most evident if you've watched twink porn or been with someone younger... dumbasses have no idea what they are doing or how to do it.  It's all about getting to the climax whereas when older, it becomes about the whole experience... for both people and how giving can be just as pleasing to yourself as receiving (touch, or whatever the case may be).  Foreplay isn't part of the equation with the younger guys.  Much like getting a present and tearing through the wrapping to reveal what's inside, many aspects are lost in the action... admiring the paper... appreciating the time, effort and manner that it's wrapped... the possibility of saving the paper/recycling, not to mention the mystery of guessing what's inside.  And while this isn't a bashing of younger guys, it does address how most younger guys have no idea how to think of someone else and want things immediately.  This is most easily seen when you hold back sex on a twenty-something... the interest in you is quickly lost.  Maybe this generation is used to getting things instantly by pressing a key.  Constant stimulation is required.

It's funny... Robin and I go to this local coffee shop for open mic night.  The first time, there were a bunch of older, Vietnam war types that sang folk music.  This past week, there were a lot of hipsters who got up and sang and played the guitar.  And while I can appreciate any type of artistic outpour, it's hard for me to watch someone singing about strife and hardship when it's possible that they've never gone through any.  Very few could sing well and play at the same time and I suspect their parents telling them they can do 'anything'... (and not 'anything that they set their minds to' (because that would require doing the work)), is why they got up there.  Much like graduating from college and expecting a $70k/year job but not getting one, you aren't owed anything and you just can't show up.  There's always work to be done and relationships are no different.  You can't pick up a guitar and play a beautiful song unless you've learned the notes and practiced.

I think gays have a hard time committing because they don't put much effort into anyone other than themselves.  They're always looking for the next best thing and don't see what's in front of them.  They fail to connect in a way that love needs to grow and don't do the work to nurture it into something deeper.  As a result, they go from person to person never having anything real... just a surficular (only on the surface) interaction that's unfulfilling. 

I'm glad I met the guy I'm dating.  At 39, he's very caring, attentive, selfless, compassionate and one of the best people I know.  He's a rarity in this 'lifestyle'... a real gem... and I'm so thankful that he came into my life.

A Bunch To The Gut, A Blow To The Ego

Well, it's mid-January... just enough distance from New Year's Eve to start working out and have it not be cliché.  I'm done traveling and being sick, so I have no other excuses.  It's been a real eye-opener as I walked into the gym yesterday and asked the girl at check-in to look up the last time I was there.  I thought it had been about 7 months, but she didn't see any record of me being there at all in 2012.  Yikes!  With my back problems last winter and then starting work in the spring, it doesn't surprise me, but it doesn't make me proud either.  And despite asking her specifically to keep a straight face when looking up the information, I could see "welcome back, fatty" written all over her face.  The walk of shame, back into the gym... never any fun.

And the fun didn't stop there... after stepping onto the scale and doing a fat percentage reading and body mass index, I am back to where I was two years ago, if not worse.  Ugh.  20.4% body fat and 194 lbs.  Furthermore, I started out doing some spinning on the bike to get warmed up and 5 minutes into my 20 minute ride, I was winded and my ass hurt, and I was praying for some 'downhill' coasting that never came.  I managed to get some stretching in, my ab work and a light upper-body workout.  All-in-all, I was there about an hour and a half.  Not a bad start, but I have a lot of work to do. 

I don't have the metabolism that I used to, but I've always been fortunate to be able to hide my weight and lose fat fast.  Clothes definitely do make the man, until you're shirtless... then it's your gut and moobs that define you... or don't.  It's a shame that men are judged/measured by their stomach as women are judged by their boobs. People don't realize how much of a belly I have because I hide it.  The above pictures were taken yesterday... and it's amazing how much a black t-shirt can hide.

So, as I did before, this is my declaration to myself and the world... see my belly, hear it roar.  8 weeks until I'm back to work again.  Let the games begin. 

My Time?

Like love, a song only needs a great story that flows well, that is full of harmony and evokes feeling when heard.

In the past, I've been hesitant to bring my current dating situation onto paper... it seems like as soon as I did, it was over and I was left standing there with egg on my face. I guess I see things differently now. After going through about 5 years of not being able to find much that was real, things feel so much differently this time around. It's the first time I feel hope for the future... that I can see someone sitting beside me... walking with me... laying next to me. Maybe I'm different inside or in my head or maybe he's different than all the rest, but I've met a great guy and somehow everything is falling into place. And while it's in it's freshman stage, it feels right. When you least expect it... maybe it's my time for the right one to come along.

Silver Lining

Mid-way through January already... where is the time going?  Well into 2013, I feel like I'm going from one thing to the next, but never getting to a fresh start for the year.  Ending my season last November then going away to Florida for ten days... getting the flu... then dealing with Christmas... getting the flu again... then dealing with New Years and then a jaunt to D.C. with friends for 4 days... it's been a busy off-season for me already.  I am finally back, healthy and ready to get going.  8 weeks from today, I'm back to work again and I'm really looking forward to it.  It's not good for me to have too much time on my hands.  I start to think, and that's not a good thing.

After last year's conspiracy theories and end-of-days bullshit, it was hard to get any kind of focus on the future.  I mean, why even put your hair up in curlers and put on a fresh smock if we're not going to make it through the day?  And while the world isn't any more better off for all the things that have been happening, I can say that I do have some hope for 2013.

My Dad is somewhere in the middle of his treatments and he has completely lost his voice and most of the ability to eat anything solid.  The skin on his neck is showing signs of burning from the radiation, but we knew all this was going to happen.  He has lost some weight and I have to keep after him to eat since all he wants to do is drink Ensure 4 times a day.  I can see it in his color and his weight that this is taking a toll and it worries me since I don't think he's strong enough to fight anything off should he get sick or more worn out than he already is.  And even though he is doing as well as expected, it's difficult to sit and watch him be miserable.  I was never worried about the cancer doing him in since it was treatable, but it was the malnutrition that I've worried about from the start.  I'm trying to not be selfish about it, but if something happens to him, logistically my world will change drastically.  As a result, I am in limbo with any kind of decision I have to make until we see what the next month brings.

Meanwhile, I am finally feeling healthy and I'm ready to start my exercise routine and further curb my poor eating.  I've been doing better... since I got home a month ago, I lost about 10 lbs just from changing my eating habits a little bit.  With winter being my most depressed time, I can honestly say that I've not had many bad days this season.  It definitely helps that I met a really great guy a few weeks ago... and things are going well.  It's the first time in several years that I see a future with someone, which gives me something to look forward to and keep going.  Sometimes all it takes is a silver lining.  It's important to have a focus.

A Simple Theater Outing

I recently watched the amazing performance of Daniel Day Lewis as Abraham Lincoln.  His likeness is uncanny and you almost forget that it's not him.  As Mary Todd, Sally Field turned on her angst-ridden performance as she often times does, whether for Norma Rae, M'Lynn in Steel Magnolias or Nora Walker in the short-lived Brothers and Sisters TV show, it delivered the crying fits that I so expected.  I can see why it garnered awards, but more importantly than the performances was the message of the movie, which can be carried across any minority;  Everyone should be equal.  We all know the story... free the slaves and BANG, he gets shot.  What I liked about this telling was that it was centered more around the fight and circumstances of history in getting the 13th Amendment passed.  With all due respect to the slaves, we didn't see any plantations or Negros picking cotton or getting beaten and even the assassination was down-played, with not even a mention of John Wilkes Booth or his reason... this was centered completely upon how the Civil War played such an important part in getting it passed and the mechanics in the House and Senate.  It was confusing in the telling since back then, the Republicans were today's Democrats, and vice-versa.  Regardless, you sit there wondering how God-fearing humans could feel so poorly about other human beings regarding their rights.  The idea of pulling people from their homeland, stripping them of all rights and treating them like property is incomprehensible.  We've come a long way since then... or have we?

Gays, as a group, have endured a lot of prejudice over time based solely on who we love.  A difficult idea to wrap your head around when being straight comes without thought to straight people, it would seem that if we don't hold hands in public or tell anyone what we do in the bedroom, we should be able to escape the majority of the prejudice, less those gays that have fireworks and pansies shooting out of their asses; let's face it, they have it a little harder and always will.  I guess if we don't fight for our rights for equal treatment under the law, etc., we could just blend in and be tolerated, much like the slaves did, building their families and living the hand they were dealt, doing their 'jobs', but with no rights.  The same could be said about women, although less dramatic since, let's face it, whatever men think about how many rights women should have, at the end of the day, they still want to get laid, so it's a little more tricky.

The idea of people who have all the rights voting on those that do not's rights makes no sense to me.  Would there ever be any progress?  Why would there need to be?  It only threatens the rights of those who have already.  I guess you hope that there's a Lincoln in ever fight;  someone that puts their own life at risk for the lives of the down-trodden.  Eventually, ignorance will filter out and be replaced with human beings that care for other human beings.  The odd thing that we see is those religious, led by their love of a man who loved all, especially the down-trodden, are the last to ever come around.  How is a message at the heart of a mindset so lost in it's followers, even as they are spewing the Word?  And yet, time and time again, each of the minority groups are last-accepted by those who preach love for their fellow man under the guise of religion. 

"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness".  Is it really self-evident?  I think the prejudice will be with us for a long time, if ever it would be over, especially in this country.  "Give us your tired, your huddled masses" are other words suggesting unity that, somehow, along with other sayings etched in granite or steel, that no more cement our actions than the written Word.  Neither by speech, law, decree or sacred word will change the black heart of the prejudice.

Brother, Can You Spare Some Change

If we're honest with ourselves, to make a new years resolution is almost as pointless as giving up something for Lent... being realistic, how many times have we tried and failed?  It's almost easier to give into it and perhaps tell yourself that it's all too cliché or trite so you don't have to bother... that you're more of an individual for not following the herd... most times, over the cliff to your demise.  And yet, the gyms are full of would-be hopefuls at this time of year. They say if you fail to plan, you plan to fail.

The tradition of the New Year's Resolutions goes all the way back to 153 B.C.  Janus, a mythical king of early Rome was placed at the head of the calendar. With two faces, Janus could look back on past events and forward to the future, hopefully righting your wrongs. Janus became the ancient symbol for resolutions and many Romans looked for forgiveness from their enemies and also exchanged gifts before the beginning of each year.  A somewhat tradition in the U.S. has us dressed up in masks seeking a kiss at the stroke of midnight, symbolizing the evil of the mask being purified by the kiss.  Another theory is that whatever you're doing when the new year arrives, is what you'll be doing the rest of the year, so hopefully it's not working too hard or being sick, like I was.

I think it's fun to have something like the new year's resolution.  It's kind of a get-out-of-jail-free card, much like the Catholics have every day.  'Sorry you didn't meet your goal of __________, give it another go' is the new 'say 5 rosaries and it'll be just fine'.  It's a do-over, because don't we have enough shit to worry about and strive for already?  Isn't there enough disappointment? I've been wanting to learn Spanish for, probably, 8 years now.  It's my recurring resolution.

So, having said all that, I'm lining up to make some resolutions.  I'm excited for this year and with everything up for grabs in all aspects of my life, it should be a good year for some much-needed change, and I don't mean the kind that jingles.  I haven't exactly laid any plans out, but having a positive outlook on tomorrow is half the battle for me.  Suffice to say, blogging is one of my pledges, and I'm excited to slowly reconnect with the friends I've made on here.

The Land of the Living

Gone are the days of my youth when I was full of piss and vinegar, not afraid to take a risk or accept a challenge... willing to start all over again from scratch just for the 'fun' of it.  I used to have goals and look forward to things, often times finding ways to turn my life upside down or keep it interesting or push myself.  Instead, I find myself a middle-aged man just treading water, to keep from drowning... not looking for anything... not being able to see anything beyond what's in front of me at the moment.  I'm paralyzed in fear.  Afraid of what, I don't know. Adding more to my plate?  Change?  Death?  Life?  Or is it a combination... possibly that I just may have to engage myself in the land of the living?  Out from the shadows?  Out from the miserable place that I hide?  Where am I?

A few weeks ago, I was watching the movie "Seeking a Friend for the End of the World".  With a giant meteor headed for earth only weeks away, certain things didn't matter as much as they did before.  Consequence didn't mean as much when you didn't have things carrying forward and you were able to just let your guard down and just enjoy yourself... just enjoy what you enjoy and let go of all the stuff that we heap on ourselves.  As I watched the characters in the movie lose their inhibitions and think about what it was that they most regretted not doing, scrambling to get that one last thing in before it was all over and the time ran out, I felt such a calm come over me, having felt like I was a part of the movie.  With the apocalypse teased back in the summer and the end of the Mayan calendar more recently, it isn't that far of a reach to grasp... and with all the zombie movies and TV shows like Revolution, contemplating an end of days seems very probable nowadays.  As I thought about what I would do... who I would want to see one more time, I suddenly felt clear-headed and light and a feeling of relief washed over me.  When the movie was over and I realized that it was only a movie, all of that weight came flushing back in.  Shit.

I've never been afraid of dying, in fact, I think that so much of living is bearable for me because I feel like I have control over how much of my life I will have to endure.  With no religious consequences to consider, I think I look at death as a way out just as those religious may look at heaven; a better place for me to ascend.  I haven't prepared much for the future because I always feel like I'm just making it from one point to another... maybe a task that I have to finish or maybe something to look forward to, but there's no real long-range plan.  For years, it used to be my dog, Shelby, that helped me through the harder times, not wanting to leave her behind.  Now, I guess it's my ailing relatives...  and always having been a person that had control of their life, I resent that I am trapped now.  I cherish the time with them, but all I think about it getting out of here.  At some point, I lost complete control of my life... and quit caring about much of anything.  So buried underneath an avalanche of shit that doesn't seem to stop coming, I live completely on the defensive, only reacting to everyone else's more important thing.  They don't bother asking me what I want or how I am or what I dream about... that's never the question.  If they only knew what I dream about is getting away.  I have a tremendous amount of guilt that my life will start when they're gone.

With my back problems last year, I was afraid to move at all... worried that my back would give out.  And this year, it's the same thing with me having the flu.  I get a good day and then hours later, I'm back in bed.  Coming to grips with my aging body has been difficult having always been the person that could accomplish anything.  It's been a real eye-opener, that I'm not invincible and that the clock is ticking.  I have a sense of fear that my life is over... and that my life is not.  At some point, soon... I need to get a focus... a goal... a purpose.  I need to start enjoying life again, letting go of the bitterness and anger that I have.  To get out from underneath things and do more for me before it's too late.

Why Stop Now?

I saw an interesting movie tonight with Jesse Eisenberg and Melissa Leo... Jesse is a piano prodigy and after a crazy day trying to get to an audition to get into a musical college, this is the piece that he played. I saw a lot of parallels in the movie, but basically, I just liked this piece by an unknown, named Jay Israelson.