No One Said Life Was Fair........ But Jeezus, Come on Now.......

My last post was about the fear I had after taking my mom to the hospital for what we thought was a chest infection or the flu and then came to find out was the compound problem of a large aneurysm on her aorta and chronic lung disease from years of smoking. As I begin writing this the latest turn of events is that she still has these problems after spending 22 days in the same hospital although she was released to spend some time getting her lungs healthy enough for the open heart surgery she still faces. This tough old broad (as she describes herself) fought through those 22 days including a bout of pneumonia on top of the two initial problems with an amazing courage. It has, needless to say, been a very hard, painful road for her. But I really need to take a little time and speak to my pain. This is a long post so my apologies up front.


For 14 of the 22 days I was, for all practical purposes the sole caretaker. Daily there were at least two trips to the hospital and some days three or four. In addition, I brought mother's little dog, Chelsea, to my apartment and I had to juggle stops by my place to walk her (but I did have incredible, consistent help from two friends....I will never forget Velvet Sage and Adamo's almost daily stops to walk her....when the chips are down and your back is to the wall, you find out who really cares and, unfortunately, who doesn't). I only spent one night at the hospital and that was in the middle of the worst of the pneumonia days when I had real fear that she might be on her way out. But 95% of those days began around 7 at the hospital and ended around 10 after her night time pain meds began to take effect. I also tried to work as much as I could but I missed several days and numerous hours here and there. The paychecks and the bank accounts reflect this fully.

Of my two immediate siblings, one was on the west coast and didn't arrive until two weeks into the ordeal and the other, who lives just outside of Austin, was able to come in every other day for 1-2 hours and was in east Texas for a week for a training he had to attend. The one who lives close by has had no need for a relationship or communication with me for the better part of a decade partly due to behavior when I was using and partly due to a controlling wife that he recently divorced. In an attempt to be communicative and informative (something I thought that siblings do for one another), I called this sibling almost daily that first couple of weeks. Turns out he perceived my calling as me making the assumption that he didn't know what was going on and was irritated. Rather than tell me he's irritated, he tells our sick mom.....no communication you know. So I quit calling. Of course no communication means no coordination on help, something I could have really used.

The west coast sister operates on her own time frame. After she arrived on the 14th day, I thought that she would be my relief and allow me to work my usual 8 hours. I was at this point going unpaid for any hours I didn't work. On the 17th day mother was finally strong enough for the heart catheterization she had to have to proceed on to surgery. I called the sister the night before advising that I would be at the hospital at 8 am shortly before they wheeled mom to the procedure and I could come get her after that. "So about 10 or 10:30, right?" No, more like about 9; the procedure only lasts 1.5 hours. Well, she tells me that she just didn't get moving that fast and she'd take the 10:26am bus. I said nothing. Sure enough, at 10:30, mother was wheeled back barely conscious and with orders to lay flat for 2 hours. She was dry and needed someone to hold her hand and give her ice chips so I didn't go to work and just stayed bedside tending to her. My sister showed up at 12:30 just as the nurse was cleaning mother up and getting her set upright. So what it boiled down to was that she could be there from around noon till about 6 every day.

After that episode, the brother blows up because he finds out he wasn't mother's medical power of attorney (of course, if he had been would 2 hours every other day been enough time?). Rather than let it ride and stay calm, he regressed into childhood and ran to our ill mother insisting that the POA had to be changed. Major childhood insecurities reared their ugly heads. I was the recipient of some very angry, hateful emails that referred to me as an "ass", "condescending" and having done a "somewhat ok" job the prior 2 weeks. This all culminated on the 19th day with a meeting in mom's hospital room and each of us being allowed to speak uninterrupted. I got to hear how condescending I was, how inconsiderate of people's feelings I was, how I hadn't done everything exactly right. No good dead goes unpunished. Another brother later chastised me for using the term "my mom" instead of "our mom" in a thank you note I'd written he and his wife. Let's focus on what's wrong, shall we?

If all that wasn't enough, while walking Chelsea (during yet another trip home from work during my lunch), a neighbors pit bull attacked and I had to break it up. Fortunately Chelsea had minor wounds but the neighbor has now said I would need to sue her to get my $135 in vet bills back. To add insult to injury, I called my ex, Jameson, and asked him to go over and check on the dog as I finished work. Well, it seems he had an auto accident while doing so and now he's become non-communicative. It's been the only thing I asked him to do, and he has a car accident and now we don't talk. Am I to blame for his accident?

And if that added to the original family stuff wasn't enough, night before last Adamo shows up at my door at 3 am and is so drunk, he's totally out of it. When he tried to leave, the guy staying the night with me and I tried to stop him as he was too loaded to be driving. Somehow this devolved into a fist fight between Adamo and myself. End result, 2 black eyes, a knot on the side of my head, a bruised lip, general soreness and the death of a friendship.

I really feel like I'm surrounded by insane, self-centered individuals. I've spent a lot of time recently just curled up on my couch just crying and sleeping.

I'm really over people right now.

My Mom's Sick and I'm Scared

This has been a week I wasn't expecting. Tuesday night my mother called me and was having trouble getting a deep breath. She described it like having concrete in her chest. This wasn't totally surprising as she'd been sick with the flu and her usual, but recently rather severe, allergies. What was unusual was how sick she sounded. I immediately hopped in the car and drove out to her place.

I was alarmed when I got inside the house and found her standing, having just finished dressing. Her breathing was extremely labored. We got into my car and I drove to the Heart Hospital of Austin. We were in the ER from 1030pm that night until 1pm the next day at which time she was admitted to a room.

The ER Dr decided to do a CAT scan of her chest to get a good look at her lungs. While the scan confirmed that her lungs were in bad shape with bronchitis and emphysema, the frigtening surprise came in the discovery of an aneurysm in the ascending aorta of her heart. A serious, fairly large aneuryism would be 3-4 cm. Mother's aneurysm is 7 cm.

So she's facing open heart surgery to repair this bubble on her heart. The surgery would be difficult for someone my age who had never smoked. For a 70 year old who has smoked for 50+ years, it's far more than difficult. The odds are not on her side. Currently the Dr's are working on improving her lung function. It's a slow, slow process without much improvement as of this writing.

I've got to admit that I'm really scared about all this and I'm really exhausted. I got virtually no sleep the first 26 hours and was just running on anxious energy. No one else has the time to watch over mother's care so it's largely fallen to me. It means visits to the hospital in the morning and evening and verifying every medication and procedure. It's also not clear how long we're looking at before she can have surgery. But I'll keep on doing what needs to be done because that's what you do for the woman who brought you into the world.

The bottom line is that this son is not yet ready to lose his mother. She's stuck by me and shown me unconditional love always, even when I wasn't very lovable.

I'm scared and hurting.

Friends and Lovers

I’ve had this really disconcerting period over the last few weeks with just about every friend and a couple of former lovers. I’ve started to wonder if I’ve surrounded myself with unstable, irrational, drama filled beings.

The period began with two former boyfriends beginning to text, email and call me to tell me how wonderful and desirable I am. Yet at the same time they continued to be with and post myspace/blog and other writings about how much they loved and how wonderful the current BF’s are. If I’m so wonderful, why are they not with me? I finally had to tell both not to contact me as it was doing a number on my head.

Then several friends had a variety of meltdowns. Drinking too much, breaking personal confidences, needing psychiatric care but not being willing to accept that fact, playing cat and mouse with the legal system, tripping out on me, being defensive if I suggest there might be a problem, drawing me into drama and generally acting less than stable. I’ve seen all this within the last month and I’m just totally fucking over it.

I try to be a supportive friend. The kind that when you have a personal crisis and need someone there, I show up. No questions asked, I’m just there. When you need a favor, I try to accommodate, no questions asked. I think I’m a pretty good friend.

But I’ve felt like just about every person I’m close to has been too much to handle recently and I just don’t know what to do about it but withdraw. It’s as much a self-preservation mechanism as it is a throwing my hands up and yelling I Just Don’t Know What How To Handle It statement.

So, I’m solitary for a while until either I know how to handle my friends or they decide to start acting a little more sane and they get some help if they need to.

Eloise

The memory of someone who was dear to me and who I am extremely grateful was part of my life popped into my head today and it seemed appropriate, since today is Thanksgiving, to write a little bit about her.

When I was little up until about age 14, my family was pretty well off. Indeed we would have been considered wealthy by many. My dad had been a member to the Dallas Country Cub for many years and I spent my summers at the club pool with all the other little rich, privileged white children. I was different from the other Highland Park kids though in that my friends at the club were not the other rich, privileged white children, but rather the club employees. One of the lifeguards was a running buddy of mine and I spent many hours exploring the non-public areas like the laundry, storage rooms, mechanical areas and back hallways of the country club while hanging out with the maids and other staff.


A long time employee of the club was Eloise Walker. Eloise was a stout, strong, African American woman who ran the snack bar/grill at the pool and kept an eye on her favorite kids, one of whom was me. She had worked there for a long time and had known my older brothers when they were kids in the 50's. Eloise had a deep, rather gruff voice but her kindness and genuine love were something that I felt from early on.

I was kind of a misfit when it came to being a rich, privileged white child and frequently suffered teasing and taunts from the other rich, privileged white kids. Eloise knew this and watched out for me making sure that I always had a safe place next to her grill and a warm hug up against her ample bosoms if I needed it. She let me work in the grill one summer for several weeks making shakes and pouring sodas until the club manager got wind of it and made her stop. The other kids thought I was seriously mentally deficient choosing to labor with people who's skin was darker than mine. Of course what I found in those employees, who befriended me, were people who were much more real and far nicer than any of the rich, privileged white kids.

I grew up and moved away from Dallas. Sometime in the late 80's I went back for a visit in Dallas and decided to stop by the club and try to find Eloise. I went into the main kitchen area (which I'd come to know so well from years earlier) and found a manager who advised me that Eloise had had a stroke and was no longer working. I talked him out of her address and went searching for her small, frame house just off the runway at Love Field Airport.

As I got out of my car and was walking to the door, a priest with a clerical collar came out. Fearing the worst, I asked him if this was Eloise Walker's home and he advised it was. I told him how I knew her and that I badly wanted to see her. He advised me that he was her pastor and that the stroke had left her unable to speak clearly. I told him I understood and I went in.

Her face lit up when she saw me and we hugged each other tightly. This woman who had been such a positive influence on me and been a kind of surrogate mother knew exactly who I was even after having not seen me in well over a decade. But her speech had indeed been affected. This strong woman who used to bellow across the loudspeaker at the pool to ask my dad if it was ok for me to have ice cream, "Giles! you want this boy to have ice cream?!", was reduced to garbled mumbling when she tried to speak. There was no understanding her and on top of that, she was frail and weak.

Sadly, I wasn't very strong for Eloise. I completely broke down and sobbed. She took me into her arms and held me, this former little boy who was now a grown man. Eloise was still taking care of "her boy." I stayed long enough to express to her how much of a positive influence she had been in my life and how much I loved her. Then I gave her one last hug, left and cried all the way back to where I was staying.

This was the last time I ever saw Eloise. But to this day I'm grateful that I was "her boy."

46 and I'm Still Here

46. Who'd have thought? I recall a time when it just didnt seem very likely that I would make it to 40 much less beyond that. I was telling a friend the other day of a time when I was here in Austin in about 1988 reading names of dead friends at a display of the AIDS Memorial Quilt at Palmer Auditorium. I would have been 27. I'd already been to over 50 funerals and memorial services and would go to approximately another 50 before I called a self preservation moratorium on my attendance/involvement. It just seemed that all gay men were going to meet that fate and most of us just resigned ourselves to it. No need to plan for retirement, 401k's, long term care or anything of that nature. It simply would not be necessary.

That, of course, is not how it turned out. I never ended up HIV infected and a series of accidents, muggings and excessive quantities of prescriptions failed to take me. So here I am. Thinking about growing older and what it might bring are thoughts that often cross my mind. I recently read a great article in the most recent edition of OUT magazine about a series of well known, aging gay authors who are taking on the last closet of taboo in gay life: gay aging. While American culture in general is a youth culture, gay culture(specifically gay male culture) is a youth culture to the Nth degree. Gay men know in this country that by the time they are 30 they are on their way out and that by the time they are 40, they are expected by many to be in need of assisted living.

Except we're really not. The truth is, like the rest of America, gay America is about to experience a surge of Baby Boomer Gays of which I fall at the tail end. And these Baby Boomer Gays will, like their STR8 counterparts, be unwilling to go quietly to the assisted living facility. We will be dancing, playing, working out, having sex (oh, the horror!), experiencing new things and just living to the extent our bodies will allow us to. And when the body falters, we will seek a new joint from our local surgeon or whatever med is needed to keep us strutting. Millions of aging gay folks keepin on keepin on, installing new hip joints and poppin' Viagra. Must be a scary thought for the younguns :)

But it should be a comforting thought for them. With AIDS a now virtually treatable disease, the worst thing my younger conterparts should have to worry about is being overweight and all the diseases that accompany that condition. But I think they'll be far more concerned with all these aging, surgically corrected, chemically enhanced, Madonna loving, dancing queens 30+ years their senior fighting for room on the dance floor. Something about that gives me wicked pleasure.

So, all that said, here I am turning 46 and wondering what's next. While I have some theories on that, I don't really know for sure. But I do know this: I'm still here. Reminds me of a song (It's a broadway song and what could be more fitting for a gay man, right? I took a couple of liberties):

Good times and bum times,

I've seen them all and, my dear,

I'm still here.

Plush velvet sometimes,

Sometimes just pretzels and beer,

But I'm here.

I've eaten 5 star meals

In my tux

been in the jobs where I made the bux

Seen all my dreams disappear,

But I'm here.

I've slept on couches,

Guest of my friends

but then When I slept at The St Regis in Rome,

I kind of considered it my own,

Who'd have know I'd end up with no home?

But I'm here.

I've checked into a hotel with Tom Cruise

and even then there was pills and booze.

Schmoozed with politicians and stars

Been so stoned I thought I was on Mars

Rahabs, repos, and romances

And I'm here.

Slapped down, slammed around, left town

And I'm here.

So I'm here.

Leather seated Volvo one day.

Next day it goes into hock,

Top billing Monday,

then Tuesday you're touring in stock,

But I'm here.

First you're another true blue champ,

Then someone's uncle,

Then you're camp.

Then you career from career To career.

I'm almost through my memoirs.

And I'm here.

I've gotten through "Hey, fellow, aren't you whoozis? Wow! What a looker and slim."

Or, better yet, "Sorry, I thought you were whoozis. Whatever happened to him?"

Good times and bum times,

I've seen 'em all and, my dear,

I am still here!

Flush velvet sometimes,

Sometimes just pretzels and beer,

But I'm here.

I've run the gamut. A to Z.

Three cheers and dammit,

C'est la vie.

I got through all of last year

And I'm here.

Lord knows, at least I was there,

And I'm here!

Look who's here!

I'm still here.

Jena and The Stacked Deck

This past week brought us the first civil rights demonstrations in this country since the 60's. Yes Mildred, a fair and honest judicial system is a civil right and our justice system has systematically been stacked against African Americans since....well, since forever. Richard Pryor used to say he went down to the courthouse seeking justice and that's what he found, "just us".

CNN did a great story on the whole Jena situation. Three major incidents were mentioned: the hanging of nooses in a schoolyard tree that black students had the audacity to sit under, a white student stopping at a convenience store in a black part of town and pulling a shotgun on black folks when he felt "threatened" (the shotgun was taken from him by the folks who "threatened" him) and the beating of a white student by black students that resulted on the attempted murder charges being filed.

So the way that went was white students who hung nooses were suspended for a brief period of time cuz in was just a "schoolboy prank", no charges against the white student who pulled a shotgun in public and attempted murder charges against the black students who beat up the white student (he felt well enough to go to a school function later that day). Here's how, in a fair system, I would have seen these situations handled: noose boys - charged with inciting to riot or making terroristic threats (or at least expelled from school); shotgun boy - charged the crime of brandishing a weapon, a class A misdemeanor; beat boys -charged with assault.

But that's not how things like this play out, certainly not in that part of Louisiana. I have relatives who live a bit north of that area outside Monroe. The only frame of reference they have for African Americans is the "N" word. That's the primary reason I maintain no contact with those relatives and haven't visited in over a decade. If they think that about black folks, imagine how they feel about gay men.

Black folks have always had the deck stacked against them in the criminal justice system in a form of very unspoken racism. It's long since time that changed. If a white teen had to get beat up and a black teen had be excessively prosecuted in order to get people focused on this, well, so be it.

It's time for this to change. Really.

The Injection

I've been dealing with this herniated disc since July 20. It's been difficult beyond belief and I am way over the whole sit in my apartment, take pain meds and chat on the internet thing. It's also been quite a learning lesson in terms of where support comes from. It seems that for me, support comes from my mom (to the extent she's able) and a couple of close friends. But there is no help offered from anywhere else in my family. Rather disheartening but a good lesson on how to plan for my old age.

Yesterday, I had an epidural steroid injection. I'm optimistic about the results because cortisone in other problem joints has always worked well for me. I had to be at the surgery center (yes, even though it was only an injection, the specialist uses a surgery center cuz he "sedates" you) at 6:45am. I'll never understand why doctors insist on doing stuff like this before the sun comes up. My sweet, dear, reliable friend James got up early and took me. After they made sure to get their money, I was called back to the prep area by this nice RN named Deb.

Deb proceeded to explain the procedure and have me sign all the waivers so that if I became a paraplegic as a result of the spinal injection, I wouldn't be able to say they hadn't told me. Then RN Cathy comes to do the IV. Even with a little local anesthetic, that shit still hurts. After the IV was started, I was called back to the procedure room. I was instructed to lay face down on the procedure table with my belly button on the 3 pillows. What that translates to is that I was on a table with my ass way up in the air. I'd no more than laid down when one nurse yanked my shorts halfway down my tush and the other nurse pumped the versed and fentanyl into the IV. It wasn't enough and I felt the whole damned injection. Ouch!

The entire thing took maybe 5 minutes and then I was rolled over onto a rolling stretcher (I could have walked but hey, for $1500 I'll let 'em push me) and whisked to the recovery area. There really wasn't much recovery as I couldn't tell that I'd been given any drugs. Either they use a very low dose or I have a very high tolerance to versed and fentanyl.

So today I'm sore from the injection but I'm thinking I might be starting to feel a little relief from the herniation. With cortisone, it usually gets a little worse for a day of so before it gets better.

And I so need it to be better.

Gud Simpson

I've finally achieved a long time goal. Whaddya think?

Ouch! What a Change, What a Change........

Last Friday I woke after a great night's sleep, in a positive mood, full of energy. I had my juice and registered for the fall semester back at school with again 3 classes in addition to my full time work schedule. I got showered and dressed and headed out to go to an acupuncturist to get help with a case of tennis elbow I've been dealing with.


I went to sit in my car and there was a quick, intense "pop" in my my lower back/sacrum area. I was seized with such incredible, severe pain that all I could do was sit there and scream "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.......!" (sorry for the profanity, but that's what I said and no other word seemed like it would work at the time). It ended up being a very long day.

To sum up the last 6 days, I've found out via MRI and consultation with a spinal orthopedic specialist that I have a disc herniation between the 4th and 5th lumbar. Indeed even I can see it on the MRI. I don't have to have help walking like I did Friday and Saturday but the pain is constant, real and debilitating. The Dr says we just wait to see if it gets better on its own, I do physical therapy and take meds.

I'm don't like that prognosis, I hurt and I'm frightened.

Lady Bird's Heart

I had the pleasure of meeting Lady Bird Johnson 3 times over the years. Twice in Fredericksburg at the Episcopal Church during holiday services and once about 8 years ago when I was working part time for a catering company and waited on her table during a private party. The times in Fredericksburg I was more amazed than anything else. I'd never been able to shake hands with anyone who'd lived in the White House. It was a cool thing.

Even cooler was waiting on her at the private dinner. It was a small affair, maybe 7 or 8 tables of 8 and I was lucky enough to take care of her table. Seated next to her was Liz Carpenter, well known writer, feminist and her former press secretary. The dinner was held under the stars at a ranch just outside of Austin and it was a pleasant evening...must not have been summer as I don't recall it being typically hot.

Wine was served at the dinner and I recall Ms. Johnson having a glass before dinner and one with dinner. As she got towards the bottom of the glass and the end of her meal, I came around with the bottle and asked if she'd care for more wine. "No dear, I don't think I will" she replied. I grinned and said, "Well Mrs. Johnson, I hear that studies have shown red wine is good for the heart." She patted the back of my hand, grinned and said, "Honey, when you're my age your heart just has to look out for itself."

It was a memorable experience.

I No Longer Feel Guilty About 30 Minute Showers

So here I sit at work doing a 12 hour day (they offered and I needed the overtime hours), 9am to 9pm and I'm looking out at relative sunshine. That's become a rather unusual thing here in Austin where it's rained virtually every day for over 2 weeks now. Consistant rain....flooding rains. The lakes are overflowing, grass and weeds are out of control, the humidity is astronomical and I've taken to carrying an umbrella.

Having been in a drought for a couple of years now, it was kinda cool the first week of the daily rain. But now that we're going on 3 weeks and it's wearing a little thin. Indeed, it's making me and the folks I know a little surly. Yes, it hasn't been hovering around 100 degrees as it normally is this time of year so that's a plus, but 3 weeks worth of rain goes a long way. I'm thinking maybe I'll move to Seattle where it rains less.

Oh crap! I just looked at the forecast and storms are developing to the west.

Inflamed Airways and a Plethora of Courting or How I've Spent My Summer So Far

I haven't written in 24 days so me thinks I'm about due. Perhaps a little explanation is in order as to my lack of time/interest in blogging.

My last day of classes was May 10 and I decided that one of my goals for the summer would be to reinvigorate my social life (i.e. I was going to date some). There were 2 or 3 guys that had expressed an interest but going to school while working 40 hours a week was about all I could manage so I had politely declined until school was out.

On May 12th (that's 2 days later folks), I went on the first date. It was nice to be back in the game and have the possibility of a little companionship. I went out with NewsCameraGuy for a couple of weeks and it was enjoyable but he caught a little cold and gave it to me.

The cold turned into bronchitis which lasted fully 4 weeks. I missed work twice and made a trip to the ER once feeling so poorly I was afraid I might have pneumonia. I mostly put the whole dating thing on hold while my inflamed bronchial tubes healed. Finally, this past Monday, I began to feel my old self so the dating game has been back on with a vengeance.

Tuesday - Breakfast and tour of Austin with Mexico City Guy
Wednesday - Movie (300...great!) and dinner with Cute Meeting Guy (who has certainly gotten my attention)
Thursday - rest and solitude
Friday - Dinner at my place with College Kinesiology Guy
Saturday - Dinner and a play with Former Marine Gymnast Broadway Makeup Guy

On Sunday I think I'll rest.

Guys with colds, or any other communicable illness, need not apply

"We Will, In Fact, Be Greeted As Liberators" - Cheney

We were....at least by the 200 or so people who, in an event staged by the US military, danced on the statue of Saddam Hussein after it was pulled down by a US tank right after the invasion of Baghdad. Yes, it was supposed to go so smoothly....we'd be in and out in no time, Iraqi oil revenues would pay for the costs, it would spread democracy through the Arab world, etc, etc. But here we are 5 years later, $500 billion spent , 3,442 US dead and over 600,000 Iraqi dead and things aren't going so swimmingly.

If W and Cheney had listened to intelligence assessments made in January 2003, we might not be in the situation we're in. The CIA predicted a surge of sectarian violence and that U.S. occupation of Iraq "probably would boost proponents of political Islam" throughout the Muslim world and "funds for terrorist groups probably would increase as a result of Muslim outrage over U.S. actions." Way to go! Let's make a bad situation worse Mr President and Vice President!

I read stuff like this and I have to wonder who these 30% are that still support W/Cheney and think that it was a good idea to have launched this war.

No RSVP....Not Even a .99 Cent Card

I've often been amazed by the number of people who don't fully understand the importance of RSVPing an invitation they've been given. Even more so, I'm troubled by people who aren't considerate enough to acknowledge a special event in a close friend or relative's life when they have been invited to attend but cannot.

My sister recently was married to a guy that she had a teenage romance with almost 40 years ago. It was a nice wedding attended by a variety of her friends, his friends, family members and a dog or two. I had the honor of walking her down the aisle and "giving her away." It was also memorable in that, besides the fact it's the 1st time my sis has been married, my disjointed, often dysfunctional family was all together for the better part of 4 hours and it all went relatively smoothly.

What's gotten under my skin about this is the relatives who were invited by my sister who not only didn't bother to RSVP, but also couldn't be bothered to send her a .99 cent card congratulating her. No email, no phone call, no card, nada. Now I haven't spoken to my sister so I don't know for a fact that she's hurt or even bothered by this but I suspect it's crossed her mind that people she is fond of absolutely ignored this major event in her life. I know that the boorish relatives certainly know better. It's so goddamned insensitive and rude it's hard to fathom. But ignore it they did.

Sad.

Dammit Velvetsaje Tagged Me!

OK, it's not like I didn't have enough to do with the last 9 days of the school semester. Noooooooo! Velvetsaje had to go and get some goals (guess now that he's the ripe old age of 25 he felt it good to get a few ;) and "tagged" me to do the same. Saje, I have goals. I also have a final next Thursday and a group project presentation (which is working my absolute last gay nerve) due this coming Monday.

But, that said, ok. Goals. I actually start each year with goals I write out and keep where i can see them all year. I hate the phrase "New Years Resolutions"...you know, I gotta be a little different. For 2007 the big three are:

1. Spend more time with relatives and friends, particularly those who are on the older side of life.

2. Continue with my fitness regimen and strive to get my body fat down to a single digit (9% would be awesome).

3. Continue to save and get my finances in order.

Since we're now in the 5th month of 2007, I'll add a couple:

4. Renewal of my spiritual growth.

5. Continuation of my scholastic endeavors. I've just about pulled off this semester with (I think) 2 "A"s and a "B". Not bad for someone who works 40 hours a week.

6. Revving my personal life back up; a boy friend isn't a necessity but it would be nice. No drama though.

OK, I tag Cathie and Brad.

There! Done! Back to school work. Later............................................

Bluetooth People

I haven't had a good rant in a while so I think I'm due....please indulge me. What the hell is up with these Bluetooth people?! You know the ones I'm talking about; they run around in public places with the little cordless phone gizmo attached to the side of their heads. Sometimes they are carrying on conversations and sometimes they are just walking around with that widget sticking outta their skull with no call on it. It's just there like a high tech tumour or a metallic, shiny wart that needs to be cut off.

When I see these Bluetooth people, I automatically deduct 25 points from the IQ I perceive them to have. 25 points right off the top for not having the good sense not to appear in public looking like some type of droid. It all too often seems these same folks are the ones that don't have the basic sense or common courtesy not to carry on loud phone conversations in public places. I theorize that they just lack common sense and courtesy in general. Observation seems to confirm this. There is a gal in my college math class who walks around with one anchored to her rather thick head. She also is prone to talking during lectures (not on the Bluetooth, just to anyone sitting around her) and complaining because certain things about the class aren't set up to suit her. She's annoying. She'd be annoying even if she didn't have the electrical device growing from her ear but she's even more annoying with it.

Now not all people who own one of these contraptions are annoying or inconsiderate. My friend James owns one but he has the common sense to only use it while he's driving. Smart. Considerate. Makes sense. He's the exception.

The rest of 'em are just bothersome and dense.

Supporting the Troops

In the last week there has been a lot in the news about the abysmal conditions, squalid housing and bureaucratic delays in outpatient care at Walter Reed Army Medical Center. Seems that the military has done a rather poor job of taking care of our returning wounded. Here we are 4 years into the Iraq fiasco and it's just now becoming a concern as to how we take care of our vets. W is supposed to give his Saturday radio address today (which I'm sure he put a great deal of thought into....just like everything he does) in which he will say, "... some of our troops at Walter Reed have experienced bureaucratic delays and living conditions that are less than they deserve. This is unacceptable to me, it is unacceptable to our country, and it's not going to continue."

Well, better late than never. But I don't want to lay all the blame at Shrub's feet. We've had a history for a couple of decades now of not doing enough for our vets. On the way to work this morning I passed two homeless men at different corners who were holding signs that said "veteran". The National Survey of Homeless Assistance Providers and Clients (NSHAPC) done in 1996, projected that: Each year, 2.3 million to 3.5 million people experience homelessness in America. By taking 23% of that range for veterans, that would indicate there are between 529,000 and 840,000 veterans who are homeless at some time during the year. That's a lot of veterans. Where has the support for them been?

It became very fashionable a few years back in this country to buy magnets (which were usually made in China) that say "Support the Troops" and drive around in one's vehicle (usually made in Japan) while burning lots of gasoline (made with oil imported from the Middle East) with those magnets patriotically attached to the back end of said vehicle. I often wonder how many of the Patriots give a rat's ass about those homeless vets or the ones forced to live in squalor at our preeminent military hospital.

Of course, maybe it's more of an intangible, abstract kind of support they mean to offer.

It's Up to You and Me Bubba

It will soon be 3 full months since the midterm elections and almost a month since Congress convened with a new majority. The new majority was elected because a majority of Americans are fed up with Bush's illegal, immoral and misguided war. I have been proactive in mailing and emailing (yes, old fashioned paper letters and those newfangled digital ones) my representatives and a few who aren't mine to express my view that it's time to end this nonsense. Were I in a minority point of view I could understand the inaction and the political gamesmanship Congress seems to suffer from.

But every poll I've seen seems to indicate that I share a point of view with most citizens. In spite of this groundswell of opposition, we still have the Joe Liebermans of the Senate trying to tell us that not supporting the escalation means we don't support the troops. Haven't we already put that argument to rest? My retort would be how does sending more brave men and women into the meat grinder that Iraq has become count as support? Ending this war is the responsibility of Congress and it is not only a constitutional responsibility, it is a moral one.

Molly Ivins, who we just lost, said in her next to last column that it was going to be up to us to stop this war. She said, "This country is being torn apart by an evil and unnecessary war, and it has to be stopped NOW." She reminded us that "this war is being prosecuted in our names, with our money, with our blood, against our will."

I encourage all of my readers (all 4 of you anyway) to get off your collective duffs and contact your representatives with a demand that they lead on this issue. Cuz lord knows there has been a dearth of leadership so far. You can contact them via email through

http://www.house.gov/writerep/

or

http://www.senate.gov/general/contact_information/senators_cfm.cfm

Like Molly said, it's up to you and me Bubba.

OK, I Am So Busted!

So I get an email stating that Cathie has left a posting on my blog that says, "Where are you? You haven't posted for a whole month!!!!" and I thinks to myself, "Self, you sure haven't." So, you ask, what have I been doing for a month?

I started the month counting down to a trip to Las Vegas with my friend Kevin from LA. This was his treat so that I could join him to celebrate his birthday. It's not the first time we've spent birthday's with each other in the 20 years we've known each other. I recall a limo and fabulous dinner at The Hotel Del Coronado in San Diego some years ago. It will also always be embedded in my memory that he showed up unannounced at my 45th birthday party in Austin.

We had a fabulous time! We stayed at The Riviera Hotel on the strip. I managed to get Kevin upgraded to a nice, one-bedroom suite for his birthday. He turned me on to the wonder of "Wheel of Fortune" slots. All told I managed to come home $25 poorer than when I went which aint bad for 3 nights in Vegas. Kevin chuckled at my method of stopping play at the slots when I would win a jackpot (I think I won a $400, a $300 and a $100), cashing out and heading straight to my room where I'd deposit the winnings in my in room safe. We saw a show at The Excalibur hotel and had wonderful dinners at the The Steakhouse at Camelot and at Emeril's at the MGM Grand. The dinner at Emeril's was extraordinarily expensive and absolutely wonderful and The Steakhouse dinner was pretty fabulous as well. I had a 24 hour romance and I think Kevin came out ahead about $500 on his gambling (He is a total pro and has the various casino "frequent gambler" cards on a retractable string attached to his waist. I am but a mere amateur). We had a great time and I'm so grateful to Kevin.

I get back to Austin just in time for the "ice storm". Now, for those of you who don't know, it really doesn't take much to shut this city down. And it did. For 2 days. Since I fell on the ice and hurt my back, it was a nice break and I extended it a bit.

Then I launched into my latest endeavor: school. Yes folks, I'm now a full time employee and a student. This is going back after about 20 years. It's been interesting to say the least and I'm still trying to figure out how the schedule of work, school, study, eating, working out, sleeping, taking care of business and having any degree of a personal life works. So, two apologies:

1) To Brad I want to say I now understand why you were unseen for months at a time. I'm sorry I doubted you. Now I get it.

2) To all my friends who may not see much of me. I'm going to make a serious effort to have some times with friends on a regular basis but I make no guarantees.

So, onward with this experiment. Wish me luck and please indulge me if my postings are few and far between ;)

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 :)~