Being OK With Being Single Makes for Good Dating

As I began this year I made the decision that I would venture back into the dating world. I'd dropped out sometime back and wasn't really dating material for the previous couple of years. When you speak unintelligibly and tend to nod off for 20+ hours a day, people aren't necessarily interested in dating you. I also felt that I hadn't wanted to risk the possibility of hurt that comes with making yourself vulnerable to a another human being. But last January I'd been sober for 6 months and felt like I was in a good place to open myself up to the possibility of meeting new guys and seeing what the world of potential relationships had to offer. I was very content with my singleness and was of a mind that if I didn't meet anyone that I clicked with enough to get in a relationship it would be ok; I was OK with just me and that, I felt, was the perfect place to come from. If one must have another person to make themselves happy then they are approaching the world of relationships from a needy, insecure place. Luckily, I felt very secure.

So I put myself on the market. I met Jamison online in January and we had our first date over dinner within a week. Taller and leaner than myself, Jamison had red, curly hair, a vivacious personality and a snow white smile. He came to my apartment and we went out for pizza. Jamison was intelligent, witty and very funny. I recall that I was very nervous and quite unsure of myself. In spite of that, I seemed to have made a good impression on him and he certainly did on me. We were off to the races!

Jamison and I dated for about 4 months and it was a wonderful time. He's a true romantic and was fully engaged emotionally. I loved every minute of it. But sometimes you begin to realize that you make better friends than lovers and I think he and I both began to flash on this in April. So we had an emotional conversation and decided to end our relationship as boyfriends. But we began a relationship as friends and Jamison has become such a dear, valued confidante to me that I have no regrets whatsoever that I took that chance back in January. The return on that investment has been huge.

The next Gallant Knight to enter my world was Fernando. It seems that Fernando and I had had a rendezvous about a year earlier which I don't recall. At all. It seems I met Fernando during a hazy time which has few memories for me. Benzodiazapines will have that affect. I seem to have made an impression on him however as he was insistent via emails and IM's that we reconnect. So we did. Looking at pictures he sent me he was a handsome, smiling, height/weight proportionate guy. The person that showed up at my door was handsome and smiling but the height/weight proportionate description no longer applied to the tune of about 30 pounds. We went to dinner and the conversation was about as exciting as watching grass grow. On top of our vapid conversation, Fernando mentioned several times how unhappy he was that he couldn't seem to find a boyfriend. I'm sure the fact that he was uninteresting, overweight and needy had nothing to do with that. I arrived home with a huge sigh of relief and mentally crossed him off the potentials list.

Applicant number 3 came in the form of a 5 foot 4 inch, sculpted, muscular, Latino, champion gymnast (he'd been to and won US national competitions) we'll call Joe. I'd chatted on line with Joe for over 2 years and we ran into each other again one night via the magic of high speed cable internet service. Joe showed up at my door a few nights later and suffice to say that we began a torrid series of encounters that lasted a couple of months. Although flighty and often unreliable, Joe impressed me with his passion and he holds the memorable spot as the only guy that has ever done a nude handstand and then walked across the floor on those same hands in my presence. I was impressed. Very impressed.

Joe claimed he suffered from ADD which seemed to explain his inability to complete a thought and his tendency to change plans on a moments notice. He could be very warm, tender and emotionally intimate. He could also be completely unreliable. What I came to discover as the real reason for his flightiness was that Joe, like far too many gay men, was a meth addict struggling not to be one. Our brief, incandescent fling ended when Joe stood me up in San Antonio. That very day I deleted his number and email.

I ended the last third of the year seeing John. John was born in Monterrey, Mexico but raised in the Texas panhandle. 22 years my junior, he was affectionate and very self directed. We had begun seeing one another in September but stopped after two months when he couldn't abide the fact that Jamison and I were still friends. When I advised him that my friendship with Jamison was non-negotiable he advised that we should go our separate ways. I semi-reluctantly agreed but within 24 hours began to receive numerous irrational and unfriendly text and voice messages. I decided I'd been blessed with having dodged a bullet and went on with life.

Stuart was my first and, so far only, date of myspace origin (yes, I finally developed a page) entering the parade at the end of October. He found me through a mutual friends myspace page and the friend communicated that Stuart thought I was cute. After viewing his pics I responded the feeling was mutual. We ended up going out for several meals and one night of movie watching at my place. Stuart was an ICU nurse, very goal oriented and extremely focused on his profession. Speaking for myself, although he was attractive, employed, extremely intelligent, had runner's buns you could bounce a half dollar off of and shimmering eyes, the spark wasn't there and you just can't fake that. I suspect he felt the same way. The calls ended at Thanksgiving.

At the beginning of December I began to hear from John again via emails to my myspace page. His messages were introspective and indicated that he regretted his decision to end what we had going. I finally agreed to meet him on December 5th and I knew when I saw his smile that there was something about him that stirred a passion in my heart. I didn't listen to the little voice in my head that said this might not work. Funny how the heart overrules the mind sometimes.

We made it 20 days before John broke a promise (not the first) and as we tried to work through my hurt feelings and his surly reaction to them, it became apparent to me that I should have listened to that voice. I ended that second attempt feeling love for John and being pleased with myself that I had been a gentleman. I was also warmed by the fact that despite my deep feelings for this guy, I wasn't knocked off center for very long when my hopes that we could develop a relationship were dashed.

I head into 2007 having learned a lot from these experiences. I'm solid in what I value in a potential partner, confident that I have something to offer in a relationship, and reminded that others find attractive qualities in me.

I'm also content with just sleeping with myself :)~

W is Just Plain Stupid

I wish I'd written this......but I didn't:


12.08.2006
The Incredibly, Unbelievably, Stupendously, Incurious George Bush (29 comments )
by Cenk Uygur

Never has there been a public official more unequipped to be President of the United States of America than George W. Bush. The man is simply not up to the job. Even if he really wanted to be or cared to be an effective president, he ... could ... not ... do ... it.

He can't do it on a boat, he can't do it with a (pet) goat. He can't do it in the Green Zone, he can't do it back at home. This man cannot be a good president, Sam-I-Am.

He flat out does not have the intellectual capacity to carry out the requirements of the job. This is not some mean-spirited speculation as to the level of his intelligence. The facts are in. There is nothing left to speculate on. And today we have yet another example of his sheer inability to form a cognitive thought.

Lawrence Eagleburger is a Republican. He was the Secretary of State under George H.W. Bush and was a prominent figure in the Reagan administration. He is a party stalwart and one of the bastions of the Republican establishment. This man obviously wants George W. Bush to succeed. When he met with President Bush, along with all of the members of the Iraq Study Group, he said that after they presented their findings - Bush asked no questions.

Eagleburger remarked, "I don't recall, seriously, that he asked any questions."

Stop. Think about that for a second. There are 79 recommendations made by the group. They took nine months and talked to everyone involved about the situation in Iraq. They have interesting, sometimes controversial positions, some of which Bush theoretically agrees and disagrees with - and he asked absolutely no questions. Not one.

That is beyond unbelievable. You would have to be stupendously stupid, mentally stultified and intellectually inoperative not to be able to come up with one question to this group who has presented the most important report of your presidency to you.

No one can be that callous. Forget his legacy, there are people dying on the ground every day. Even if you don't care at all about your own presidency and you don't care about the thousands of Iraqis dying every month, you have to care about the American servicemen and women you sent in to die in Iraq. You'd have to be inhuman not to care about that. No one could be callous enough to receive incredibly important recommendations on how to rescue this mission and not ask a single question.

You know why he didn't ask anything? Because he's stupid. He is afraid that he is going to ask a dumb question, or it's possible that he doesn't even have the capacity to formulate one in his tiny, little mind. So, instead he sits there like a bump on a log. The ISG members must have been at a loss for what to do. I can't imagine any of them anticipated that there would be no interaction with the president. That he would just sit there with a dumb look on his face and not make one comment or have one question.

That might explain some of their harsh comments about the president afterward. Former Republican Senator Alan Simpson intimidated that Bush is so stubborn that he stinks of it. The dude is clearly aggravated.

Later Bush actually bragged about reading the report. He said that most reports don't get read by anyone in Washington, but that he went through the trouble of reading this one. Would you like cracker, Mr. President?

Bush often brags about doing the simplest things related to his job, like meeting with the commanders. He is often fond of saying that he has met with his commanders and his advisers. Of course!!! That's what you're supposed to do. Everyone, except you apparently, already knew that. That is the beginning of the job, not the end.

If this was just one incident, you could rightfully say I might be blowing it out of proportion, but this is part of a very clear pattern in most of the important moments in George Bush's presidency.

Remember the famous meeting before Hurricane Katrina where federal officials warned that the levees might not hold. His response? Not one question.

Remember what Paul O'Neill, the former Treasury Secretary, said about him during their first one-on-one meeting. After O'Neill spoke for an hour about all of the important budgetary and domestic issues in the country, he turned to the president. His response? Not one question.

Remember when he received the Presidential Daily Briefing warning "Bin Laden Determined to Strike in U.S." His response? Not one question. But in this case, to rub salt into the wounds, he added to the CIA official giving the dire warnings, "All right. You've covered your ass, now."
Wow.

His contempt for and ignorance of the necessities of the job are stunning. At first when Michael Moore made a big deal about how President Bush read "My Pet Goat" for seven minutes after he was told the nation was under attack, I thought he was being a bit unfair. I thought at the time that Bush was thinking about what to do and didn't want to freak out the kids by rushing out of the room. But now the weight of experience leads me to realize that it was no such thing. The tiny wheels inside that vacuous mind were turning and churning, and in the end he had nothing to show for it. Zip. He had no idea what to do.

He didn't ask Andy Card who attacked us? What hit the buildings? What precautions we should take? What actions and reactions we should engage in immediately? How do we go about defending ourselves? What's happening on the ground in New York? When he was told we were under attack on 9/11, what was his response?

Not one question.

The N Word

Discussion about the use of the "N" word has been very much in the media lately after Michael Richards ("Kramer's") public disintegration into spewing that word and reminding a black audience member at The Laugh Factory of the good old days of lynchings. If you've seen the video of his racist tirade, you know that it wasn't an attempt at politically incorrect humor but rather was the verbalization of some deep seated feelings about African Americans. The way it hit the media confirms that no one took it as an attempt at humor.

The timing of all this came just a few days after I'd watched the movie Crash, a rather deep film about everyday race relations in LA. The movie really made me think about the racism that's buried deep down in most people's hearts. I tend to run around thinking of myself as a very progressive, non-racist, live and let live individual. Watching that movie made me realize that even those of us with the best of intentions harbor some stereotypical view of people of different races that certainly could be seen as racist.

The N word has long given me a tinge of nausea. I wrote once about Richard Pryor teaching me to use the word and then teaching me why it should never be used. One of my favorite columnists, Leonard Pitts, has written a wonderful column discussing how the word has always been ugly and that there simply is no rationalization for it's use under any circumstances, by people of any color. It makes no difference if it's spelled with an "er" or an "a" at the end, the word simply carries the history and the connotations that a few hundred years of usage during lynchings, beatings, legal discrimination, voting suppression have given it.

Now that some high level black entertainers, leaders and politicians are finally saying enough, maybe we'll start to hear it less and less in the lexicon of today's rap/gangsta oriented youth. It's well past time. The word is simply a word of hate. Hatred by a an non-African American person towards someone who is or the ingrained, self-hatred many African Americans often feel subconsciously. The word cant be cleansed or made ok. It just aint possible.

I'm Way Overdue and Don't Know Which to Write About 1st!!

My goal has always been to post at least twice a month (unlike velvetsaje who is doing some kinda blogging every day competition....but his life is SO much more eventful than mine!) and I find that we are quickly running upon December so this will be a multi-topic posting:

Birthday Party and Surprise: The party I threw from myself on 11/3/06 was memorable for many reasons including having friends and family members that have been close to me there, watching those same friends and family members sing the Happy Birthday song while doing their best Marilyn Monroes (that's a hoot to watch and I highly encourage it for those of you who detest the typical Happy Birthday song being sung to you) and enjoying the best Italian Cream cake in town (Central Market). The best part though was having my long time friend Kevin (who appeared under a pseudonym in an earlier post) surprise me by flying in from Los Angeles unannounced. He was here all weekend and we got well caught up. It was wonderful as was the love and support of everyone there. Now, on to the next 45 years!

Elections: It was a rewarding experience on Tuesday, 11/7/06 to watch the early returns come in with the Congressional races on the east coast. It was evident early on that a tidal change was under way and that one party rule would soon end in this country. I had a sense of personal satisfaction as I'd spent a few hours making phone calls to potential voters in some of the close races via the moveon.org website. As Iraq continues the meltdown into civil war (I'm sure the Iraqi people are so very appreciative of us liberating them and bringing "peace" and "democracy" to them...and killing 30,000 in the process.....thanks Neocons!), there is some small glimmer of hope that we can get our troops the hell outta there sometime in 2007. Maybe there will only be another 500-1000 US military lives lost in the interim. Additionally, maybe, just maybe, the Dems will remember the other reason the R's got booted and will make some serious ethics reforms. If they don't actively work on these two issues, they don't deserve to be in power 2 years from now.

Edumacation: I am now enrolled to get my tush back in school come January. After much searching and assessing, it seems that I'm really good at and interested in helping people and in physical fitness and health. Consequently, I am embarking on a Kinesiology degree with an emphasis on health promotion. I'm gonna see how well I do working 40 hours a week and taking 9 semester hours. One of the more humbling experiences in attempting this was taking a math assessment. It seems there was a reason I got all my history, government and sociology classes out of the way: I suck at college math(algebra)....or, as Madea said, "I don't know nothing about that Al Jurreau." So one of the classes I will take will be something equivalent to a high school algebra refresher.

Love: I've been dating quite a bit this year and have had some great times. One of my dearest friends came from being willing to date starting this past January (ok, not a husband but a wonderful, funny, dependable friend......I'll take it!). I've has some interest from guys that I never in my wildest dreams would've figured would ever be interested. But they are. That's a nice boost for self confidence. What's really nice is knowing that if I remain single, that's OK; I'd rather be single and blessed with calmness and serenity rather than be in a relationship that brings with it chaos and drama.

The Christmas holidays are now bearing down and I'll be doing all that I can to enjoy the good and avoid that negative. This was always a bad part of the year in terms of me being sober; indeed I'd have been planning for a couple of weeks by now just to see how much xanax and morphine I could have on hand to be sufficiently numbed to make it through to December 26th. I'll avoid toxic relatives and acquaintances, my gift buying will be limited to about 2 people, I'll donate some time and/or money to insure that some economically disadvantaged persons have things that I take for granted and I'll try not to get caught up in the frenetic, commercial nonsense that comes with this time of year.

OK, my shift at work is done in 10 minutes, so I'm done here!

Sakes Alive I'm 45!

I remember when I was about 20 thinking that anyone in their 30's was kinda over the hill, someone 40 was probably in need of assistance walking and that someone 45 or older was just old and death must surely be imminent. Plain old old. Youthful perspective tends to skew one's viewpoint in that way.

But here I find myself today having achieved that number. I'm 45. There, I said it. Doesn't sound old. To me. Now. Doesn't feel old either. To me. Now. Except of course for the first 30 minutes of the day while I wait for the ibuprofen to kick in (I've told my doctor I think of ibuprofen as a maintenance drug usually required after about 40. He's only 35 so he doesn't quite agree. I'm willing to allow for his inexperience and give him time. He'll come around).

I consider myself lucky as I'm blessed with good genetics, I exercise and I eat right. So compared to many of my 45ish contemporaries, I'm running around looking and acting a few years younger than that. But that doesn't take the sting out of the comment, "Wow, you look really good for 45." Ouch! How does that translate? More like, "You don't look like one of those worn out, half dead, dehydrated, overweight, saggy guys who are your age." How about just a heart felt, "You look really good." Period. There's no need to go to the"......for 45" part......it really is possible to look good regardless of the chronological number of your years even without surgery or botox.

There are things I'm really liking about this age. I'm a lot more patient than I was a few years ago. I take a lot more time in making decisions and I'm more thoughtful as to the ramifications of the decisions I make. I'm calmer. I'm not as rushed. I'm taking better care of myself physically and spiritually. I find that I have excitement about the possibilities in what I hope will be another 45 years with the knowledge that comes from already having 45 years of experience. under my belt. It's a good place and time.

The best thing about being 45? I'm only 5 years away from AARP discounts!

A Lesson in Being Thankful for How Things Are as Opposed to How They Could Be

A good friend and I went to visit an old friend and former supervisor of ours this past weekend. "Cliff" was my supervisor at the hotel company worked for up till about 3.5 years ago and was the reason I stayed at the company. When I applied there, my only reason for taking the job was an immediate need for income. I had no intention of staying until I noticed that there was a department that dealt with the company's very high end, exclusive, 5 star hotels. I expressed an interest and within a month, Cliff had me in that department under his supervision. It was because of him that I stayed and that I was given the opportunity to travel to Hawaii (3 times!), New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Phoenix, London, Amsterdam, Venice and Rome all the while staying for free or very, very cheap at the nicest hotels in the city. The St Regis New York, The St Regis Rome, The St Regis Monarch Beach, The Wigwam, The Sheraton Park Tower, The Westin Europa & Regina, The W New Orleans , the Pulitzer in Amsterdam and on and on. I went places and had experiences that I might never have had otherwise. I certainly have an appreciation for five star hotels that was only refined and expanded as a result of these travels. Motel 6 will never seem sufficient again all thanks to Cliff.

The friend I went with, Claudette, advised me about 3 weeks ago that Cliff, who had returned to Texas after having been in charge of reservations at the luxury resorts the company owned in Tahiti, was in Odessa, Texas and quite ill with AIDS. Cliff is an alcoholic and had never gotten tested for HIV. When he returned to Texas from the South Pacific, he was wildly active in his alcoholism and drug addictions and burned his way through a number of friends with behavior associated with the addiction in a rather short time. He ended up in Odessa living with his mom in a small, one bedroom apartment, broke and now very ill. Left untreated, HIV devastated his immune system and caused him to spend 11 days in the Odessa hospital being treated for infections that come about when one basically has no immunity to opportunistic infections. From staying at and working in the finest hotels in the world, to barely living in a small, dingy apartment in an armpit of a West Texas town.

We took Cliff out for dinner Saturday night and breakfast the next morning. There was some indication that, although he had stopped drinking out of immune system necessity, cocaine was still very much on his menu. Addiction is a ruthless disease and seemingly a small inconvenience like a wasted immune system is hardly an issue when you need to satisfy a craving for coke. It was a disturbing thing to take in.

On the long drive there and back (7 hours each way; if I never go to Odessa again, that would be perfectly fine with me), I had a lot of opportunity to reflect on how similar Cliff's and my paths were yet how different the outcomes. I could very easily have ended up that HIV positive, broke individual waiting on Medicaide and SSI to kick in. It could have been me wiling away the hours on a couch in a small apartment, taking antiretroviral drugs and watching cable tv all day. It could have been me still seeking a chemical high despite having a precarious health situation. It could have been me unable to get real about life. It could have been me.

But it's not me and for this, I'm truly, deeply, humbly grateful.

If The Polls Look So Good, Why Am I So Uneasy?

Here we are 4 weeks from the Congressional midterm elections and the news is awash with the Florida, closeted Congressman who was sending, as White House Press Secretary Snow called them , "naughty" messages and has since resigned leaving the Republican leadership to begin forming firing squads of a circular nature. While this is all amusing in many ways, given the fact that the Congressman in question was the leading proponent of protecting minors from online adult predators (could Hollywood writers have made anything like this up?), it's also rather sickening to watch the right wing spin meisters begin to drag out the Clinton/Lewinsky tapes (ummm, she was over the age of 18 folks) and hear them begin to characterize the exchanges as "overlyfriendly" as Speaker Hastert initially said. I guess you could call questions like "did you spank it this weekend.." overlyfriendly but even as good a friend as I can be, I don't usually ask my buds this.

It seems that, at least in terms of the polls, most Americans (even some Republicans) are finally getting just how out of touch, corrupt, inept and devious the leaders of the Republican Party are. Iraq, congressional pages, deficits, Social Security, Abu Ghraib, Plamegate, Abramoff, Halliburton, the Vice President's energy "task" force, Tom Delay, Guantanamo Bay, signing statements (134 and counting), Katrina, Medicare Drug Program, Afghanistan, domestic wiretapping, the list just goes on and on.

Polls look good and public opinion seems to be changing. But I put nothing past the people in power right now. Nothing. Be it a "terror attack", finally catching Osama bin Laden or some other headline grabbing, fear inducing incident or just plain old election fraud, I have a deep, well founded suspicion that the fear mongers in charge will pull out all stops to maintain power.

And if yet another election in this supposed democracy is stolen, then what?

The Real Texas Grandma

I was really saddened by the death of Governor Ann Richards. I first met Gov. Ann in about 1981ish at a Democratic Party function at the old Union Station in Dallas. I'll never forget meeting her and shaking her hand as she looked me squarely in the eyes, smiled broadly and said in a Texas drawl so thick you had to cut it with a hack saw, "Eeyt iz soooo niiice to meet yewwww....". I was instantly awestruck. Even then the helmet of white hair was present and she could be seen clearly from across the room.

I had the pleasure of being around her two more times in the next couple of years, both times at the capitol when I was working as a lobbyist in 1983. She always had this wonderful presence.

Bill Clinton was in town today to accompany her casket into the rotunda of the capitol. Clinton called Richards “Texas on parade.” “For 30-plus years, that is certainly what she was to me and Hillary,” he said. “First she was big: big hair, big bright eyes, big blinding smile. She also had a big heart, big dreams, did big deeds.” Indeed. Gov. Ann opened the door to a state government that had, for too long, been the domain of white, straight, male bigots.

I'm gonna go to the memorial on Monday and say goodbye.

Monday, September 18, 2006

I did attend the memorial today at the Erwin Center along with about 4,000 others. Gov. Ann was pretty well liked. The attendees ran the gamut of humanity, black, white, latino, asian, gay, straight, male, female, some seemingly wealthy, some seemingly rather poor. These were the people Ann Richards represented. In other words, everyone.

There was a lot of laughter and a few tears. Sen Hillary Clinton spoke and I must say, having had some feelings of ambivilence about her, she was masterful in this situation. "She went into government because she didn't want her tombstone to read, 'She kept a clean house,' " Clinton said. "Instead, she went into government and cleaned house. Her longstanding advice to young women, Clinton said, is timeless: "Set your own course. Dream your own dreams. Go to places you want to go, even if no one has gone there before. Stand your ground."

I read a story about Gov Ann that Molly Ivins has shared before and it speaks volumes about who Ann Richards was and why I liked her so much. The story, as told by Ivins, goes as follows:

At a long-ago political do at Scholz Garten in Austin, everybody who was anybody was there meetin' and greetin' at a furious pace. A group of us got the tired feet and went to lean our butts against a table at the back wall of the bar. Perched like birds in a row were Bob Bullock, then state comptroller, moi, Charles Miles, the head of Bullock's personnel department, and Ms. Ann Richards. Bullock, 20 years in Texas politics, knew every sorry, no good sumbitch in the entire state. Some old racist judge from East Texas came up to him, 'Bob, my boy, how are you?"
Bullock said, "Judge, I'd like you to meet my friends: This is Molly Ivins with the Texas

Observer."

The judge peered up at me and said, "How yew, little lady?"

Bullock said, "And this is Charles Miles, the head of my personnel department." Miles, who is black, stuck out his hand, and the judge got an expression on his face as though he had just stepped into a fresh cowpie. He reached out and touched Charlie's palm with one finger, while turning eagerly to the pretty, blonde, blue-eyed Ann Richards. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Ann beamed and replied, "I am Mrs. Miles."

Bleh!

I have been in an total funk lately with the absolute indifference I have over my job. I've reached a point where there is no challenge, little that is enjoyable, ample aggravation and I frequently don't give a crappola about the customer. Not a good place to be in a job where I spend 40+ hours a week.

For my millions of readers (ok, maybe just 5 or 6), let me explain that I'm a insurance agent for a major, Fortune 500 company and am currently a licensed agent in 20 states. Or, as Velvetsaje so succinctly stated once, I'm a customer service bitch. My job consists of taking between 70 and 120 calls a day from customers who have 70 to 120 different attitudes, 70 to 120 different levels of intelligence, 70 to 120 different concepts of personal responsibility, and 70 to 120 different feelings about insurance companies. Now, not all of these are bad interactions; on an average day, 50-60% of the calls are easy and hassle free and the customers are friendly, reasonable individuals. Now, the other 40%........well, let's just say that the company I work for does not require its customers to necessarily be friendly, civil, reasonable or literate. No, the only requirement is to have the ability to pay an insurance premium. That's it. Period.

The other 40% has been a challenge for me for some time. First, let me explain that I like people. More specifically, I like pleasant people. I really like pleasant people who can ask questions in a complete sentences (kind of like I like President's who can speak in complete sentences) and have some basic clue of what's happening with their own bank account. These are not the people I encounter in the 40%. A great number of those are people who have their premiums drafted directly out of their bank accounts and, almost inevitibly, they are having banking issues because they have failed to keep up with when and how much is being drafted from their accounts. Now I'll save my feelings about EFT for another time (it's the work of Satan, 'nuff said), but let me just say that if you choose to allow a huge company to have access to your bank account, if you VOLUNTARILY GIVE THEM your bank account and routing numbers, you best stay totally on top of withdrawel dates, amounts, clearing time, changes to amounts as they are communicated to you and how much you have in you bank account. Oh, and you should also not be completely surprised if, once in a while, the huge company withdraws some amount in error (which they will of course correct for you in due time...glacial time).

The company is big on me making "empathy statements" to the customer. "I can imagine how frightening the accident was" or "I know how difficult it is to pay high insurance premiums (especially when you have 5 DWI's, 10 speeding tickets and 4 at fault accidents) maam". Sometimes, the best empathy statement I can muster is, "I'm sorry you can't keep track of your bank account or seemingly perform simple addition and subtraction, Sir. It must really suck to be that inept." Probably not what the company is looking for.

On the positive side, there are things I love about my company and job. I love the hours; I work 10:30-7:30 and enjoy having relaxed mornings and no commute during rush hour. I love my income. It's not huge but it's sufficient to meet all my needs and many of my wants. I love the stability of the company; they'll be here 5 or 10 years from now and probably much longer. I completely love my insurance benefits; I dont pay much for it and, in addition to all your usual coverage for doctors visits to just about any kinda of MD and or specialist I might need to see, I have amazing prescription drug coverage and I can see chiropractors, acupuncturists and massage therapists (I kid you not!) all for little or no copay. I love the fact that if I dont feel like shaving or if the most dressed up I can get is shorts and a t-shirt, that's perfectly ok with the company.

But I sure am apathetic.....no, make that burned out on my day to day duties. I'm capable of far more than what I'm doing and while I really do like helping people, I have a low tolerence for caca. Much of my job is dealing with people's BS and I am reminded everyday that there are a lot of people who's lives are built around BS.

As Sam Cooke said, "A Change Is Gonna Come"...............................

Off by 9%? What Was That Margin in 2000? 2004?

A recent meeting of the House Science Committee heard testimony on the reliability of voting machines. "It would take somebody relatively unsophisticated to hack into a machine," reports Rep. Darlene Hooley, D-Ore. "The biggest problem isn't hacking, but programming errors. In some cases, the margin of error is 9 percent." Say what?

"The election system in its entirety exhibits shortcomings with extremely serious consequences," wrote Steven Hertzberg, director of the study by the San Francisco-based Election Science Institute, "especially in the case of a close election." If I recall correctly, we are in the mess we are in called Iraq because the Supreme Court installed W after less than a 1% difference in Florida in 2000. The mess was exacerbated after the administration was allowed to remain in office in 2004 after a vote difference of less than 2%.

Congress, despite this hearing, doesn't seem overly concerned by this 9% error in a country that calls itself a role model for democracy. A bill by Rep. Rush Holt, D-N.J., to require paper trails for any voting system has collected more than 200 signatures in the House, but the leadership won't allow a vote. The Republican leadership. The leadership of the party who'd president won by less than 2% in both the last 2 elections.

The midterm Congressional elections are now just over 2 months away and I have a very uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

One Word on Ann Coulter

Skanky.

Organic Grapefruit/Lemon Juice.....oh, and Vodka

Since I quit dopin' and boozin' (I was really a bigger doper, I just used booze to "soup up"the benzos), I've been exploring tasty, strange and exotic non-alcholic juices, waters and other beverages. I've discovered an Italian soda that Central Market makes that comes in a variety of flavors.

I was in the store a couple of weeks back stocking up on my grapefruit/lemon Italian soda as well as apple-lemon-ginger juice, vanilla flavored soy protein powder, good spices.......oh, and I also always grab a handful of roasted, salted macadamia nuts which are $14.95 a pound but gratis if you just grab a few and are "sampling". I'd made my circuitous route through the store and was in line to check out. I'd set all my goods on the conveyor belt and as the cashier was ringing me up, a fellow behind me commented on my juice.

"That's really wonderful stuff, huh?" "Yeah, I'm downright addicted to the stuff....I love it" I said, studying the man's puffy profile and swollen, baggy eyes. "It's a little pricy though" he said. "Yep" I replied, "but since I quit drinking booze, it's a tasty luxury I can afford."

"You should try it with vodka. It's really good" he said in is seemingly unaware state.

Hello? What?

365 Days

365 days ago, I checked myself into treatment or, as one old geezer member of my 12 step group insists I should call it, rehab. This means, that I've been clean and sober for a year now which, considering that virtually every day from the time I was 14 until a year ago I was in some way chemically altered (that's almost 30 years folks), is truly remarkable. In this last year, there has amazingly only been one time when I had a strong desire to alter the way I felt with chemicals and that was brief and very quickly dealt with.

My life has improved dramatically in so many ways. I'm reconnecting with family while, at the same time, limiting any contact that would threaten my stability. I'm also reconnecting with some old friends while other old friends have faded into the proverbial woodwork. My romantic life actually is humming right along as I've discovered that some guys actually find my being clear and present is attractive. Wow! My health and physical fitness are at a peak. My job with the insurance company, while at times frustrating, is solid and provides a good income and excellent benefits. More often than not, I'm having a good day and because I am truly grateful for all that I have, I feel much joy.

Life is good and I'm moving on.

When My Sobriety Gets Jeopardized

I'm writing this at 5am, having woken up after 4 and a half hours sleep. It took me two hours to fall sleep when I laid down at 10:30pm. For the first time in the almost year that I've been sober, last night I had a really strong desire for xanax washed down with a glass of good whiskey.

I've known for a month now that I would have 12 days of repeated family situations which, for me, tend to be frought with peril in terms of high levels of anxiety. I've prayed, I've meditated, I've gotten massage, acupuncture and chiropractic. I've spoken openly in the 12 step meetings I go to about the concerns I have. I've talked with the psychiatrist I see once a month. I've done everything I can think of to prepare myself mentally and physically for the stress I was sure would ensue.

Nonetheless, I found myself wanting the xanax/Makers Mark combo just a few hours ago. The situtation that developed came from a sibling who I was around for two nights in a row. This person has had some rather intense medical treatment recently for what was a potentially life threatening illness so their energy/stamina levels have been low. I understand this and I empathize with how draining the treatments must be especially when combined with the Texas summer heat. Two nights in a row I've been around this sibling as we went out and attempted to celebrate with a niece who's in town and last night with my mother for her birthday. Both nights this sibling acted disrespectfully to me and to my mother. Not just disrespectfully, but like an ill mannered, self absorbed child. This sibling is over the half century mark in age.

The medical situation may, to a degree, explain the mental condition this person is in. It does does not, however, excuse infantile, abusive, boorish behavior. I was around a lot of gravely ill (and dying for that matter) friends in the late 80's and early 90's. Professionals and caretakers who dealt with them would always remind those of us who were involved that when the sick individual acted out in such a way as to be hurtful and abusive, it was OK to try to understand what they were going through but to remember they didn't have a license to act like a jackass simply because they were ill.

Today I'm supposed to take this sibling and the niece to another niece's wedding. Moved heaven and earth to make it happen in terms of changing my schedule at work (which was really, really not easy), getting right mentally to be around lots of family that I haven't seen in well over a year, buying clothes and setting aside money for gas (the wedding is a good hour and a half drive from Austin). After writing all this, I realize how tired and drained I am and how I don't have it in me for anymore drama from this relative or any other. For me, the costs of dealing with someone who has made the choice to act like this are too great. Additionally, I've reached a point where I am no longer able to excuse this sibling's continual beration of our mother. I've had it.

Almost a year ago, I decided my substance use and behavior had to change. I worked hard to do just that and my life, outlook and relationships are improving in enormous ways. I wish this relative would make some similar changes but that's not up to me. What is up to me is deciding not to be around this person if they are going to act like this and to tell them in no uncertain terms that treating our mother as they have been is not ok.

I'm not going to use chemicals to change how I feel over all this. But I sure wanted to.

What the American Flag Stands For by Charlotte Aldebron, age 12

The American flag stands for the fact that cloth can be very important. It is against the law to let the flag touch the ground or to leave the flag flying when the weather is bad. The flag has to be treated with respect. You can tell just how important this cloth is because when you compare it to people, it gets much better treatment. Nobody cares if a homeless person touches the ground. A homeless person can lie all over the ground all night long without anyone picking him up, folding him neatly and sheltering him from the rain.

School children have to pledge loyalty to this piece of cloth every morning. No one has to pledge loyalty to justice and equality and human decency. No one has to promise that people will get a fair wage, or enough food to eat, or affordable medicine, or clean water, or air free of harmful chemicals. But we all have to promise to love a rectangle of red, white, and blue cloth.

Betsy Ross would be quite surprised to see how successful her creation has become. But Thomas Jefferson would be disappointed to see how little of the flag's real meaning remains.

Charlotte Aldebron, 12, wrote this essay for a competition in her 6th grade English class. She attends Cunningham Middle School in Presque Isle, Maine.

Carlos

I first saw you when I began volunteering at the warehouse. I sat there mindlessly inspecting the cassettes for the blind and you descended the metal stairs in front of me. I was immediately struck by the smoldering carnalism that flowed from every inch of your sinewy body. There was no way not to notice you as your searing presence would not be ignored. I knew when I saw you that the torrid lust that erupted from within me would be wholly satisfied.

On every visit I've studied you intensely. You are taller than I am, easily six foot and quite syphlike. Your expansive shoulders top a torso that narrows past your thick, solid chest and smooth, taut abdomen, down to a naturally tapered waist. Your smoothly muscled, lanky legs descend from a diminutive pair of buttocks that roll delicately from the small of your back. The low rise jeans you favor fit you well and disclose the protracted, leaden component of your manhood and your inclination to wear boxers.

Semi-curly, un-tamed, black hair tops your profile which is usually veiled by a days growth of beard. Your Latin heritage is evident in your linear face, a face that frames a pair of incandescent, brown eyes. It's your eyes that ignite my desire. When you look at me, those narrow, amorous eyes speak in a language that decidedly communicates a coarse sensuality which states to me that you will have what you want in the manner you choose to have it.

Our trysts throughout the warehouse have been the most animalistic, torrid encounters of my life. Impelled by you onto the immediate surface of our transient beds, the savage force with which we battered our lust would fracture titanium. Our vigorous unifications have left me spent, gratified, and complete. It's you that I think of when I must trek to the warehouse for I know that you will quench my lust in a way no one else has......ever......

if only in my mind...........

Some New Links

I've added some new daily read links on the right hand side of this blog. They are:

James' Site : I dated James the first few months of this year. I count that experience as one of the best since my recovery. James is a thoughtful, sweet, vivacious individual and quite a writer. When we trade emails while at work, the few sentences that will take me an hour to hammer out in between distractions are the part of the first of three paragraphs that James will send in a matter of minutes. Quick mind, cute guy, nice person. I'm blessed to have him in my life.

Caperton Classic Art : This is the business site of a friend I know through 12 step meetings. He has an amazing number of classic art prints available including some beautiful male nudes (ok, my personal favorites, it's true). Please take time to peruse his gallery.

Messopotamian Blog : This is a blog by an Iraqi who, as best I can tell, lives in or around Baghdad. He gives an insiders view of what's happening there something that we, as Americans, rarely get from US media. It aint pretty.

George W Bush - The Record

LAW ENFORCEMENT: He was arrested in Kennebunkport, Maine , in 1976 for driving under the influence of alcohol. He pled guilty, paid a fine, and had his driver's license suspended for 30 days. His Texas driving record has been "lost" and is not available.

MILITARY: He joined the Texas Air National Guard and went AWOL. He refused to take a drug test or answer any questions about his drug use. By joining the Texas Air National Guard, he was able to avoid combat duty in Vietnam.

COLLEGE: He graduated from Yale University with a low C average. He was a cheerleader.

PAST WORK EXPERIENCE: He ran for U.S. Congress and lost. He began his career in the oil business in Midland,Texas in 1975. He bought an oil company but couldn't find any oil in Texas . The company went bankrupt shortlyafter he sold all his stock. He bought the Texas Rangers baseball team in a sweetheart deal that took land using taxpayer money. With the help of his father and his father's friends in the oil industry, including Enron CEO Ken Lay, he was elected governor of Texas.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS GOVERNOR OF TEXAS: He changed Texas pollution laws to favor power and oil companies, making Texas the most polluted state in the Union. He set the record for the most executions by any governor in American history.
He cut taxes and bankrupted the Texas treasury to the tune of billions in borrowed money.
With the help of his brother, the governor of Florida, and his father's appointments to the Supreme Court, he became President after losing the popular vote by over 500,000 votes.

RECORDS AND REFERENCES: All records of his tenure as governor of Texas are now in his father's library, sealed and unavailable for public view. All records of SEC investigations into his insider trading and his bankrupt companies are sealed in secrecy and unavailable for public view. All records or minutes from meetings that he, or his Vice-President, attended regarding public energy policy are sealed in secrecy and unavailable for public review.

ACCOMPLISHMENTS AS PRESIDENT: He became the first President in U.S. history to enter office with a criminal record. He invaded and occupied two countries at a continuing cost of over one billion dollars per week.
He spent the U.S. surplus and effectively bankrupted the U.S. Treasury
He shattered the record for the largest annual deficit in U.S. history.
He set an economic record for most private bankruptcies filed in any 12-month period.
He set the all-time record for most foreclosures in a 12-month period.
His largest lifetime campaign contributor, and one of his best friends, Kenneth Lay, presided over the largest corporate bankruptcy fraud in U.S. history, Enron.
He changed the U.S. policy to allow convicted criminals to be awarded government contracts.
He appointed more convicted criminals to administration than any President in U.S. history.
He's broken more international treaties than any President in U.S. history.
He garnered the most sympathy for the U.S.after the World Trade Center attacks and less than a year later made the U.S. the most hated country in the world, the largest failure of diplomacyin world history.
He set the all-time record for most people worldwide to simultaneously protest him in public venues (15 million people), shattering the record for protests against any person in the history of mankind.
He has cut health care benefits for war veterans and supports a cut in duty benefits for active duty troops and their families-in-wartime.In his State of the Union Address, he lied about our reasons for attacking Iraq and then blamed the lies on our British friends.

He has so far failed to fulfill his pledge to bring Osama Bin Laden to justice.

I Always Thought He Was Big Dick Anyway

This is just too much fun!

Limbaugh Detained Over Viagra

From one old pill head to another Rush, make sure you have an Rx next time you're holding drugs. By the way Rush, does this mean that there is actually someone out there who would have sex with you? Or that you're just really hopeful? Either way, ewwwwwwwww!

Reconnecting With An Old Friend (not a friend that's old)

Recently it's been running through my head the many friends that I've had that, for assorted reasons, I've fallen out of contact with. This seems to be how it is in life. You make acquaintances in different settings, some of them become friends, some of those seem to stay in contact for years on end while others move on and you lose touch.

After not having heard from "Kev" in several months, either via phone call or email, I decided to write him an old fashioned, USPS delivered, letter. Kev and I first met at a bar in Corpus Christi called The Other Door in about 1987. We became friends through hanging out and our mutual involvement in local theater. I'll always treasure the "Best Actor" statue that Kev gave me after I got a rave review in the Corpus Christi Caller Times (we're talking big time now!) for my performace in a one act play called "Lone Star" which Kev talked me into auditioning for and acting in.

We maintained that friendship through my move to San Diego and Kev's move to Key West. Kev, if I remember correctly, moved for love and I moved because I loved California. Many months passed after those moves where we lost touch with each other but eventually we would be in contact and catch up on where we were and what was going on. Kev eventually made the move to Los Angeles which allowed us to visit one another since I was just down the road in San Diego.

I recall so many great get togethers. There was a weekend that Kev came to celebrate his birthday and rented a limo for a night on the town that included dinner at The Hotel del Coronado. Great night it was even if the details are a bit fuzzy. There was a day/night of revelry in Tijuana the details of which, well, we'll just keep those between the participants. Suffice to say that it was a long trip back across the boarder. A longgggg trip with a lot of ups and downs! Kev knows stories about me that I'm glad only he knows and for this, I am grateful.

I ended up back in Corpus Christi after my foray into SoCal and am now, of course, in Austin. Kev remained in LA where he has worked for a large law firm for several years now and had sent warm greetings when I got through rehab some 10+ months ago. I got busy with getting back into and on with life and some time passed before I realized that I hadn't heard from Kev in a while. So I wrote him and this week I recieved an email back.

Kev has had some trying times: the death of both parents in the last two years, his own experience with a bad case of shingles and the reminder that our health and life is a fragile thing and must be lived as if each day is the last.

As he and I move towards 45 (we are just a couple of months apart in age but I'm older has Kev is inclined to gleefully point out), we're at that great point in life where one can look back on a good deal of life experience and also look forward to all that is still possible. Knowing that he is ok and that he's been part of my life for so long warms my heart.