Oh cripes, it’s that time of year. Invitations for Spring events are coming in from all these groups. Non-profit organizations, political groups, alumni groups, social groups. The invitations all seem to say the same thing, year after year after year:

• Come to our spectacular event, where you can see [so-and-so who you probably don’t know]
• And tickets are a donation of oooonly [insert US$ astronomical sum]
• But wait! There’s more! for ooooonly [insert double US$ astronomical sum], you can come to the special VIP pre-event reception and meet [so-and-so] in person!
• Enjoy great [don’t insert ‘rubber chicken’] cuisine and fine [plastic bottled] wine with a terrific [still frozen] desert!
• Applaud [way too may long-winded] award-winners!
• And remember, it’s for [insert name of great cause that you already donate to anyway]
• Get there early to participate in our [who’d wanna pay anything for that?] silent auction!
• And plan to get your groove on with [insert name of band no one has ever heard of] for a night of dancing!

Uggghhhh… these fundraising events labeled awards-dinner-dances are prolific, at least in my neck of the woods. Not that I am “Mr. Popular,” but I have received invitations so far for 6 of these events in April, 9 in May, and 7 in June, with more coming. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!

BTW, did I mention before that I can’t dance and hate trying to? Did I mention that my partner, Mr. Recluse, hates these things more than I do, so it’s our agreement that I don’t even mention them?

While personally I would like to blow off all of these things, there are some events that I can’t avoid for various reasons. I’m on the Board of Directors, or they’re giving me some some token of appreciation, or someone bought me the ticket, or I am presenting an award, etc., etc. On comes the monkey suit, the smile turns upside down, and off I go.

But why must they include a band and dancing? I figure that I’m not the only one who gets tired and just wants to go home. But some of the organizers actually think that people like to dance. And seeing those old grey-haired farts shaking [insert name of body parts] on a dance floor is, well, not a pretty sight. (There are so many other things I could say, but I’m restraining myself.)

Oh well, such is life. I promise, as soon as the last award is presented and the last long-winded speech ends, I’m outta there…

Such is my life — the life of a non-dancing guy who would much rather just be home, in bed.

I attended a conference last year that was focused on motorcycling. We were handed cards and were asked to write what our “spark,” or passion, was that got us excited about motorcycling on the card and share it with another conference participant.

That question extends to my own life in all the things I am involved with. Here are my passions:

* My partner
* My family
* My friends

Well, these are common passions for most folks. Here are more things about which I am passionate:

* My community. I am passionate about where I live, how we live, how we manage growth, infrastructure, and sustainability of our environment. I speak out, I get involved, I cajole, persuade, pester… as a local civic activist volunteer.

* Neighbors and residents of my community. Advocating for their needs, helping them out, providing service, fixing stuff, protecting them from shams and con-artists.

* Providing workforce housing. Cops, teachers, firefighters, nurses: these community heroes often can’t afford to live in the county where they work. It has been my passion to try to help out in that regard, as best I can, anyway.

* Motorcycling. The freedom, exhilaration, fun, excitement. Man, nothing quite describes the feeling one has when you’re out on the open road with a group of fellow bikers, enjoying the scenes, scents, and sounds.

* Justice. I rail against social injustices that I observe, and try to right them. Rally folks to the cause. Make things better, one step at a time.

* Intelligence. You might look at this in a number of ways — from railing at dumb-dumbs who abandon shopping carts in handicapped parking spots or who drop trash wherever they damn well please, to having a spirited conversation and exchange of ideas, to having the desire to study to become a U.S. citizen, to acting and behaving with common sense. I’m not talking about “book smarts” as much as I am talking about people thinking before they act, and acting with intelligence.

* Honor and Integrity. No need to explain that. I just am passionate about these values and practice them every day.

* Smiles. Lighten up, folks! Oh my gosh, so many grim faces I see every day (probably because they’re stuck in suits and ties). S-M-I-L-E!

So, what’s missing from the list?

* Boots — that is my avocation. Hobby. Fun thing to talk about, wear, build websites and blogs about… sure, I enjoy boots but I’m not wrapped (or warped) 24/7 about them.

* Leather — same goes with leather, too. A waning avocation. (Waning in the sense that I’ve grown beyond leather fetishism as I’ve blogged often about.)

Some other things are missing from the list, too, such as sports, television, movies and the dramatic arts, and stuff like that. There’s just so much time in the day, and I choose to dedicate my time to my passions. I am just not that passionate about these things as some others may be.

So, what’s YOUR passion? (Thanks to my eighth brother for inspiring this blog post)

It seems that everywhere you turn, advice on dealing with personal finances flows. From news stories on television and talk radio to ads in the media, everyone is advising how to save money in “these tough economic times.”

I grow weary of it all. However, I realize that most folks have little financial discipline. They carry huge debt, don’t save, and live paycheck to paycheck.

I think what set me off on this rant was an interview that I watched on TV news recently while preparing dinner. The interviewer was speaking with a young married couple who have a small child. They live in a typical middle-class neighborhood. Both parents work. The child’s grandmother provides daycare.

Okay, all well-and-good. Then the woman chimes in, “oh, I save a lot of money now by changing what we do for dinner. Instead of going out to eat as often, I stop by (insert name of fast-food chain here) and bring dinner home!” Like she discovered penicillin, the extols the “virtues” of bringing take-out home to eat. Does anyone besides me see what’s wrong with this picture?

The interviewer compounded the aggravation of the silly story by complimenting her on her choice to “eat at home more often.” And then the yuppie Dad says, “and I can even have leftovers to snack on later.” Oh, puhleeze….

I heard a report on the radio that people are changing their habits about lunch. Yep, instead of going to a restaurant every day, some buy … you get it … fast food and bring it back to the office.

Throughout mainstream media, reporters tend to miss the mark entirely. All of the “advice” that I hear is not helpful, and actually promotes some really bad and expensive things to do.

For my partner and me, our views are different. Perhaps it is because we both are children of parents who lived through the Great Depression. We are frugal, but not cheap. For example, we always eat a home-cooked meal every evening. We do something that seems to be unusual (at least as far as main stream media observes): we go to the grocery store once a week and stock up on foods that we use to prepare a well-balanced meal for dinner AND for lunch AND for breakfast that we pack to take to work each day.

We believe in having breakfast, though with our schedules, we bring breakfast to work and eat it upon arrival. And for three meals a day, seven days a week, we are spending about US$100 per week on a full range of fresh vegetables, meats, poultry, fish, and other goods. That’s about an average of US$2.38 for each well-balanced meal for two adults.

I should say, though, that my partner’s “avocation” or interest in grocery stores helps here. He cuts coupons, and when we prepare our shopping list, he reviews the store’s weekly ad for what’s on sale and matches sales with coupons. By using the store’s loyalty card (which gets you the “sale” prices) and coupons, we save an average of US$50 every single week on our groceries. Seriously — that much. The investment of time in reviewing the ad, making a list, matching coupons is definitely worth it.

And don’t get me started when all the yuppies start yapping about not going to Starsucks “every” day — that they’ve “cut back” to fewer visits each week. I bring a can of Coke Zero to work with me in the morning for my morning Caffeine shot, and drink water throughout the day otherwise.

Another thing has bothered me is all the advice on saving on utilities. Suddenly yuppies have “gone green” and are discovering CFLs (compact fluorescent lights). Heck, we’ve used them for over a decade. And if I hear advice to install a programmable thermostat one more time, I’ll scream. We have four such devices for the four separate heating/cooling zones and have had the thermostats and zones since the house was built. We heat or cool only the rooms that we occupy at different times of the day. Our utility bills for heating and cooling are 1/3 what our neighbors are paying.

Don’t even mention about paying down credit card debt. We never carry a balance, thus, we never incur finance charges. My partner and I both think the same way: only charge what you can pay for when the bill comes due. We use credit cards, but only for major ticket items or for internet purchases — but not for small charges. We still pay cash for most in-person transactions, including groceries. It’s a well-researched fact that when you spend cash, you’re less likely to spend as much. With plastic, you never really “see” the money.

Well, now you know my “secret.” I have never adopted — in fact I have strongly rejected — the yuppie outlook on personal finances. Or in other words, my partner and I still hold true to the values our parents taught us. We save for a rainy day, we don’t carry debt, and we buy only what we can afford and pay for.

So thanks anyway, Suze or whoever… we’re doin’ just fine. Go help those yuppie-wanna-be’s out there who have their financial house in disarray and priorities out of order.

“Nesting” is a term that has been used more often since September 11, 2001, and the decline in domestic and international air travel that followed. While air travel is up significantly since then, what also is “up” are three things that no one likes: higher ticket prices; hassles, in general, getting through airport security; and the niddling fees tacked on to air tickets (the “homeland security fee” is another name for a federal tax), as well as nuisance fees tacked on by the airlines at the airport: from baggage fees to pillows to aisle or emergency exit seats.

I’m not that old… just past the half-century mark… but in a “previous life,” and in a previous job, I traveled a lot. I mean A LOT — some years, over 100,000 actual air miles every year. While most of my travel was domestic (within the U.S.), there were times when business would send me to Central and South America, Europe, Asia, or Australia. Tinian, Rota, Saipan, Guam, Samoa, Vanuatu… off the beaten-track locations as well. Overall, I’ve tallied 56 countries on my “been there” list, and cherish (almost) every visit, everywhere.

I would save up airline miles for my partner and me to take some really wonderful trips. Our wanderlust brought us to Canada, Europe, Australia, New Zealand, South America, and various interesting places right here in our own country.

But that was back in the day when…

• Airline miles actually were useful
• You could “upgrade” affordably to business class when going far, such as to our favourite locale Down Under
• Checking bags and getting through security didn’t take forever
• My partner could travel — due to his disability, now he can’t

While I did take a trip to Arizona recently — using airline miles — that was the first trip “for fun” that I have taken on an airline in four years. Who knows, it might be another four years hence that I take a “fun trip” that requires air travel.

Meanwhile, we enjoy “nesting.” We have built a marvelous retreat at home. Our back yard was transformed into a park, where we can rest on our double hammock, watch the squirrels play high in the trees, and listen to the babbling brook while the wind blows softly through the leaves.

At night and in winter, we retreat to our basement, which we finished together as a joint project. While I have done a lot of home renovations in my lifetime, there’s nothing that quite describes the feeling you have when you are doing work for the home in which you live, and know that the results are something you will enjoy for a lifetime. Our basement hideaway with its many built-in amenities is quiet, comfortable, and entertaining.

For many reasons, nesting has become our “travel choice.” And it ain’t that bad, after all. Less stress, you get there immediately (LOL!), and it saves a lot of money. And when I develop that urge to get out, I hop on my Harley and ride. That brings me joy to see my home, my neighborhood, my community, my county, my state, and my country from a perspective few see. I can live with that.

Life is short: enjoy your life and your surroundings. I sure do.

This is a photo taken from my office window in Washington, DC. That’s Massachusetts Avenue out front, and you can barely make out North Capitol Street with which it intersects. You can usually see the dome of the U.S. Capitol building behind that ugly old hotel in the foreground, but today, because it’s SNOWING with the wind blowing it sideways, you can’t see that far.

OMG, from the hype of the television weather weenies, you think the world will end. “The March Storm of the Century!” they’re all hyperventilating. Well, if all the snow accumulates from what’s predicted today to all of 3 to 6″ (7.5 – 15cm), we will have more snow is some areas of the DC Metroplex than we had in our last “large” March snowfall in 1999. So, technically they’re right — so far, it IS the “March Storm of the Century.”

Schools are closed, frantics are frantic, and you can’t find a roll of toilet tissue or a liter of milk at a grocery store within 50 miles. So far, I am the ooooonly one in the office (as of 7:30 — usually a half-dozen folks are here by now). The U.S. Government is open, but allowing unscheduled leave and not charging leave to people who are up to two hours late. That’s probably why I’m here alone so far. My office “follows the lead” of the Government. My co-workers are probably taking advantage of extra snooze time.

Not for me — and not for my partner! We were up, as usual, at 4am. I dressed in layers and donned my Chippewa “snowfighter” boots. I prepared lunches for my partner and myself, made a quick yet hearty breakfast for the two of us, then shoveled a whole inch (2.5cm) of snow from the driveway by 5:30am. Then my partner and I “truckpooled” to the Metro. It really wasn’t bad at all, but then again, no one other than a snowplow was on the road when we were. Metro had no problem, though it traveled a bit more slowly. That’s fine — I don’t mind slow and steady.

Alas, the Cone of Dumbness strikes again.

Over the last few days as we have awakened, we are hearing a lovely song biding Springtime’s coming: the frequent and gentle peeping of the Spring Peeper.

We must have gazillions of these little guys in the stream that runs across the back of our property in our forest.

Saturday mornings are times when my partner and I like to open the window in our bedroom a little bit, and listen to the chorus. We snuggle close in each other’s arms, smile, and think joyful thoughts. They’re saying to us, “Spring is coming! Spring is coming! Peep Peep! Look at me! I am here to welcome Spring!”

Their song brings us joy and hope for winter to pass, Spring rains to come, our trees and plants to leaf and flower.

This biker can’t wait. Thanks, little guys, for the Spring tease.

Ziggy is an age-old comic strip. The main character always seems to have his challenges with life. Usually for poor ol’ Zig, anything that can go wrong does go wrong. This strip is my partner’s very favorite, and we often laugh at the daily comic shown on a calendar we keep in our kitchen.

Today, I’m feeling much like Ziggy. With all great intentions of getting my day started extra early, I left the house a half-hour earlier than usual so I could drop off two tax returns that I had completed for some “elder buds” at their respective homes. They live in a nearby gated retirement community, and I have a pass. As I drove up to the gate, I held up my pass for the guard as usual, but he stopped me, and became overly officious. He asked to see my card, then my driver’s license, and gave me the third degree. “Where are you going?” among other questions. This poor rent-a-cop kid was bored, I guess. I answered his questions but was frustrated by the unnecessary delay.

After dropping off the tax returns, I drove to the Metro station where I usually board my train to get to work in the city. Some nitwit was stopped in the driving lane at the entrance to the parking garage. I kid you not: it looked like she was applying makeup while just sitting there. I gently tapped my horn, and she gave me a dirty look before giving her car some gas and moving forward. She entered the garage and parked, and I happened to park next to her. As I was walking toward the station entrance, she huffed and puffed and said, “you didn’t need to honk.” So I couldn’t resist, and asked, “just what kind of makeup emergency were you having that you couldn’t park first?” She glowered….and didn’t say anything else. She knew she was guilty as charged.

Then just as I got to the platform, the train pulled away. If Ms. Make-Up didn’t delay me, I would have made it. I hate it when I just barely miss a train, but that happens sometimes. Another should be along momentarily.

9 momentarilies later, another train finally pulled up.

We board the train, and I scan the newspaper. The daily free rag is so ultra-Republican. Its shrill negativity about our President and his actions gets to be so … boring … blathering … I dunno, awful. Too bad I don’t have a parakeet any more. That paper would be great to line the cage.

Then at one of the stations, the train operator announces that we all have to get off due to a train malfunction. Oh great, there we go again…. this happens all too often.

Everyone disembarks, and waits… and waits… and waits some more. Meanwhile, there are announcements “regretting the delay.”

Another train finally pulls up, we all board, and in a spot of luck, I even got a seat.

When I arrived at Union Station, I queued up to get off the train, only to be almost bowled over by commuter train passengers who had rushed off their trains from far-flung areas to board the Metro. Why they never let others off before trying to rush on…. Alas, life in the big city, where everything generally is “me, me, me.”

Fortunately, the rest of my morning “commute” as it were, was fine, though I did arrive to work about 15 minutes later than usual. And in my typical optimistic approach to life — making lemonade out of lemons — I beheld an unusual cloud formation as it was growing lighter. It really was pretty to see dawn breaking behind the U.S. Capitol building. I paused for a couple minutes to watch. Heck, my schedule was already “blown” and the display of God’s handiwork brightened my spirits a lot.

Some days are Ziggy days. Despite all best efforts, things go wrong. Oh well, such is life. My attitude though remains bright, and I’m singing, just for the heck of it (and also because no one else is here yet LOL!)

The world still goes ’round, so while I had a great, but short, trip to Arizona, I am now safely back home and it’s time to return to my regular routine, which is extremely busy!

I was happy to return to the arms of my man. I spent a couple hours last night showing him the photos that I took and to recount the stories of my adventures. He listened with rapt attention, then just wrapped his arms around me and snuggled for a while. That was sweet. A great culmination to a long day of travel. What was best is that others still thought I was away, and thus it was quiet.

Lots of meetings, phone calls and emails to return today, so no time to blog!

Have a great day!

When you a part of a very large family, you expect, regretfully, that death will visit. Of my father’s huge family, he has two sisters and a sister-in-law who remain alive out of 41 (including spouses of siblings). I’ve been to a lot of wakes and funerals of aunts and uncles over the years…. The aunt I refer to on this blog, who I care for, is the last sister-in-law in that line of my father’s family. I cared for her husband, my favorite Uncle Charlie, through the winter of his life until his death. He and I were very close.

My cousin called to tell me that another uncle, the husband of one of my father’s sisters, died after a long illness on Sunday.

My uncle’s death is sad, but was not unexpected. I’m just wondering where my grief is? I wasn’t all that close to him, but wasn’t estranged. We just did not see much of each other. My uncle had his hands full when I was growing up. Read on.

I’m sorry my uncle died, and feel badly for his family. He and his wife had four kids. One of their children, a daughter, died about 15 years ago at an early age. His two youngest children still live at home. Both have severe developmental disabilities, and act and operate at a significantly reduced mental capacity. The situation is so sad. Their parents knew that they had opposite Rh factors and that children, especially after the first or second, were very much at risk for being born with developmental disabilities.

But “La Famiglia” and the Catholic Church, … I won’t say more.

My aunt, the wife of my uncle who died, remains hospitalized for her own major, chronic health issues, and may die soon. She is not able to take care of herself, nor her children. The whole situation is very sad.

I don’t know what will happen to my aunt and uncle’s developmentally disabled children (adults in their 50s now). The one remaining “normal” daughter doesn’t want to care for them. Who will?

The family is working on it. Plans are being made, but I’m not sure quite what they are. I don’t communicate as often with the ultra-Catholic branch of the family tree. They sorta shunned me since I live in sin — being gay, having a partner, and all that.

Anyway, life moves on. The family prevails. We’ll hang together, albeit uncomfortably. Such is life in a huge family — and you thought my direct family was large. My Dad’s was larger. Well, regretfully, it is time to update the family tree, of which I am the keeper.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them, each and every day.