Category Archives: Home Life

Traveling with a Code

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Yeah, unfortunately, when my partner came down with a cold earlier this week, I knew that it would be a matter of time before I came down with it, too. Starting Tuesday night, it began. Even though I had a huge bowl of my famous chicken soup, I knew I was “in for it” on Wednesday morning when I awoke completely stuffed up and my eyes were rheumy. By Thursday, it was prime-time. Friday I was a little bit better.

Meanwhile, this blog was set up for auto-posting. That is, I wrote all of my blog posts that you have read on Tuesday through Thursday of this week and scheduled them for future posting, one-a-day. I did that on Tuesday morning. This post was written on Thursday night and scheduled for posting on Saturday morning.

I flew to New Orleans on Wednesday to facilitate a meeting. Facilitation is something I love to do, and have been told I’m rather good at it. However, when you’re all stuffed up, words come out sounding odd, like: “I have a code.” Fortunately, the meeting participants were quite forgiving and understood when I declined to shake their hand — lest I share this cold with them, too.

Fortunately, the OTC meds I took helped, and while I was weak and tired, I was able to function. I was also able to sleep well. The hotel in which I stayed was very comfortable and quiet.

I didn’t go out at night while I was in the French Quarter of the Crescent City. I was just too tired, and I am not a night-owl anyway. That, and the kind of food that New Orleans is known for doesn’t agree with me. I think it is great and well-prepared, and deserving of its international recognition. It just doesn’t agree with me ever since I donated my kidney to my sister and my gallbladder and appendix to (wherever they take those things when they’re removed.)

Since those surgeries, I can’t eat diddly-squat. Especially if it’s spicy, has mustard or alkyloids in it, or has yogurt culture. Or is green, yellow, white, or orange and made of vegetable matter. Or coffee or tea. or CORN — don’t get me anywhere near corn! Popped, fried, boiled, grilled, or raw — corn sends me running. Unfortunately, not much is tolerable these days, especially when I travel. Seems like travel compounds the problems.

One good thing about serving my mother-in-law during her Christmas visit, or coming down with a cold — I lost my appetite, and thus I lost ten pounds without even trying over the last two weeks. I have returned to swimming regularly at the University, which will help me keep the weight off and maybe lose some more. (And don’t lecture me about “healthy eating”: the foods that are healthy cause me to, um, “lose them.” My diet is under a nutritionist’s supervision, so I don’t really need more advice on that front.)

I am practicing better portion control of the foods that I prepare for myself and my partner. I don’t eat out. I pack a lunch every day. I never was one to “go for coffee” at the stiff-the-yuppies shops like Starsucks. I have (so far so good) cut out snacking and my weakness, Coca-cola. Yeah, (R), that high fructose corn syrup isn’t good for me, has made me gain weight, and you’ll be happy to know that my liquid intake has changed in 2009 to water, water, water, and a glass of 1% milk for dinner. And more water. Lots of water. Fortunately, our tap water is pretty good. I’ve got lots of it bottled and drink it all day.

When this is posted, I should be safely back home, nestled in my own bed, snuggled next to my hunky partner, and returning to a routine which will ease me back to good health and eating “normally” again — but with portion control, no snacking, and water instead of Cokes. Let’s see how this goes. Wish me well!

WYSIWYG and Confidence

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“WYSIWYG” is an acronym for “What You See Is What You Get.” I was sharing this with a buddy via email yesterday when we were exchanging thoughts about self-confidence.

So what you see in this picture is what you get, or would have gotten (or seen) if you trailed me around on Sunday when I was going about activities in the community. I went to one elderly man’s home to replace a hallway lighting fixture so that it can accommodate a much brighter bulb, so he can see better. I went to another elderly woman’s to replace a hinge on a door that had broken and was preventing the door from closing. I went to a third home to install a grab-bar in the bathtub/shower, so the woman could be safer as she entered and exited to bathe.

And I was wearing Wesco harness boots and a leather shirt. Why? Comfort. Preference. That’s it. (I wore the jeans over the boots. Wearing jeans inside my boots while visiting older folks’ homes to do repairs is a bit “much.” I also didn’t don the Muir Cap. Even this Bootman/Leatherman knows his limits.)

My friend with whom I have been exchanging email further said this: Although the journey of self-discovery never ends, perhaps our confidence in ourselves grows as we age to the point where we care little about attempting to be something that we’re not.

He was referencing how he is feeling about mingling with other gay men, and feeling more confident in coming out as a gay man. I understand that, and appreciate his insights. You know, it’s interesting, but another confident, masculine gay man from the same state has characterized himself as “WYSIWYG” — and he is wonderful to behold. Truthfully, to me, the “what-you-see” stuff is related to outward appearance of self-confidence. (Perhaps boots improve that? I’m not sure, but many feel that a man wearing boots exudes a confident appearance.)

For me, I give a huge tribute to my parents, who encouraged me to be a confident person, starting back in grade school where I was narrator in the second-grade play, in junior high school when I gave a speech to our state’s General Assembly about an issue about which my peers and I were concerned, and in high school when I ran — and lost — then ran again the next year to win a student government position. Same is true through college where I ran and won positions on various student organizations. Continuing to this day, where I serve in various public service positions.

It all comes down to self-confidence. I was a confident guy long before I knew what “gay” meant. I thank my parents and my siblings for instilling that in me. (Guess it’s one good thing about being among the youngest in the family — you have to learn how to stand up for yourself!)

I no longer give a darn about what other people may think about my physique or looks. All that is outside stuff. I am who I am. My parents, family, and true friends taught me that what’s on the inside is what counts most. Further, I see being confident and being gay as independent things, and I am both.

My inside is confident. My outside, is, well: WYSIWYG!

Cure for the Common Cold

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My partner has a bad cold. Poor fella. He’s always washing his hands and following standard procedures of good hygiene to minimize exposure to germs. Nonetheless, he and his mother who was visiting during the holidays both have a cold. I guess they were exposed when they went to the movies.

Sunday afternoon, Guido (our chef) and I spent several hours making our Italian chicken soup — guaranteed to cure everything, including the common cold. Well, I believe that, anyway. Even if a cold isn’t “cured,” the soup sure makes you feel better.

We follow my Nonna’s (grandmother’s) recipe, and Guido posted it on his website, here. Mangi e goda!

Cookin’ Italian

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When it’s cold out and I can’t ride my Harley or spend much time outdoors without freezing my buns off, I like to spend time in my kitchen with my partner and “batch cook.” That is, in anticipation of a busy week ahead, I cook foods that can keep well frozen or refrigerated for the upcoming week. That way, when I get home from work, I can just pop something in the oven to heat up, toss a salad, set the table, and we’re ready to dine well.

Today, my partner and I made home-made ravioli. The photo shows me running the pasta through a roller connected to our KitchenAid mixer. The roller is a special attachment that you can get for the mixer. It works great!

We made three batches of ravioli which freeze really well, and also a lasagna layered with home-made noodles that I had made last week. I made a great cheese mixture of ricotta, mozzarella, asagio, parmesan, and romano cheeses which we used for the ravioli. I had a lot of it left over after making the ravioli, so I thought that we could use the rest of it in a “small” lasagna. The lasagna will make two meals for both of us.

All together, the cost of the ingredients — flour, eggs, cheeses, spices — was less than US$10. For five filling main course dishes for two people, that’s pretty good!

We don’t eat out — not (necessarily) because we’re cheap or because my partner doesn’t like to be around people — but because we prefer to eat in the home we built, and enjoy my creations. I also have a rather strict diet. Unfortunately, there are a lot of things that I can’t eat without getting sick. Thus, by cooking my own meals, I can ensure that nothing goes into the food I eat that will make me ill.

The ability to cook was inherited in my Italian blood, and borne out by watching my Nonna (Italian grandmother) and my Mom cook over the years. My Mom’s spirit was with me, too. I say that because every time I see a rainbow cast from a Native American “suncatcher” that my Mom gave to me for good luck in our new house, I think it is my Mom visiting us. Today as I was rolling pasta though the press, my partner noticed a rainbow from the suncatcher on my boots. Thanks, Mom, for visiting, and sharing joy with us in our kitchen as we cooked, laughed, talked, and enjoyed several pleasant hours.

Life is short: wear your boots while you cook!

95 Years Young

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On Monday, December 29, a friend called to say that a gentleman who lives in the retirement community nearby was celebrating his 95th birthday, and had always wanted to go for a ride on a Harley with a “biker dude.” She wondered if I could fulfill his birthday wish.

Granted! The weather cooperated. It was chilly, but not unreasonably cold. I wore full leather (breeches, tall boots, leather shirt and jacket.) I showed up at his place at 11:30. His two sons and a grandson lifted him gently onto the back of my throbbing machine. He was wrapped up warmly in a parka and longjohns. We gave him a pair of warm gloves and a fitted him with a full-face helmet. Off we went!

I took him for a ride on the 3-mile circumference road around the community. He laughed out loud all the way. What sheer joy!

When we arrived at the restaurant where he was to celebrate his birthday lunch, a huge crowd was there to greet us. His family lifted him gently off my bike, and he had the biggest smile on his face as his helmet was removed. I’ll never forget the look on his face — and on mine — as I was in the very fortunate position to bring joy to this nice man, his family and friends, and to show that us “big bad booted leathered Harley-riding bikers” can be gentle souls, as well.

Life is short: show those you care about that you care, and bring smiles to all around.

Resolving

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Happy New Year (almost!) This is a time when you hear about people making “new year’s resolutions.” I don’t do that — I observe how hypocritical such “resolutions” are. You make them, then a few days later, they’re forgotten.

What I resolve to do in 2009 is to continue to do what I have been doing, which includes, but is not limited to:

  • Continuing to care for family and friends, and take steps to help make things better for them, in whatever ways that I can.
  • Remaining happy, joyful, and up-beat.
  • I have so much to be thankful for, I resolve to continue to display and share my thanks.
  • Smiling at total strangers! (and friends, and family, and anyone else!)
  • Enjoying life’s surprises, and making lemonade when life serves you lemons.
  • Sharing knowledge, information, and ideas with others when requested, but not offered unsolicited.
  • Taking time to have fun! Ride my Harley with the group that I ride with, share walks with my next-door-neighbor, play Bocci con i ragazzi, update my website, maintain the properties that I own, build stuff — including a gazebo in our back yard park. (Yeah, this IS fun for me!)
  • Remaining passionate about my community service, and bringing about thoughtful resolution to challenges we face in our neighborhood, community, county, state, and country to the degree that I can.
  • Loving and caring for my partner: my love-of-my-life, my best friend in the whole world, my lover, my joy, my hunkadorabilious, my one-and-only.
  • Showing those that I love that I love them, each and every day.

Tonight, as I celebrate New Year’s Eve for the 23rd time with a very close friend, his wife, his family and extended network of friends, I will carry through on these “life resolutions.” And I’ll be wearing leather and boots, too!

Happy New Year! See ‘ya next year!

Riding on Christmas

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We had a sunny, dry, and pleasant day on Christmas Day, and it warmed up to above 50°F (10°C), which was great motorcycle weather!

After preparing and serving a hearty Christmas breakfast and watching my mother-in-law open her gifts, I wanted to go visit my family. And, as is my custom if weather permits, I go on my Harley. So I changed into my biker leathers and boots, and got the Harley out of its storage area in the garage.

I checked it over carefully doing my usual T-CLOCS review. I am glad that I did, because I noticed that I must have knocked one of the cables sideways when I had parked it as close as possible to the back wall of the garage. I straightened out the cable and checked to make sure it operated correctly. I also checked the air pressure in the tires and put air in the rear, as it was a couple pounds low — that happens when bikes sit idle.

Off I roared on my trusty iron horse. I went to a niece’s house. Her little ones had already torn through their gifts and were playing with them, but they sure enjoyed a short ride with Uncle BHD! After that, I dropped by a nephew’s house, and got his kids all riled-up. It’s fun to see the kids on Christmas, and share a little joy with an unexpected ride on their uncle’s big Harley.

I have a child-sized leather jacket and kid-sized boots that I let them wear when they ride with me. I make them wear gloves, and a helmet that is their size, too. We don’t ride far, but we make sure their friends hear us roar (slowly) by while they wave to them.

I was tempted to go to another niece’s house, but she lives about an hour away, and I needed to get back to get our Christmas dinner started. My mother-in-law sure can eat, and my partner wanted the whole she-bang, so I had to get home by early afternoon to begin preparing our meal.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them! Rumble…rumble, uncle!

I Believe: Merry Christmas!

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This post was written on Christmas Eve, just as we’re going to bed and it will remain top-of-the-blog until after Christmas.

We just returned from church, where we took my mother-in-law to celebrate mass. Man, the church was packed. While we arrived a half-hour early, the only seats available were in the second row down front. That’s okay, I like to be able to see what’s going on.

As I looked around, I saw someone I knew, and waved. She waved back. Then someone else waved — a friend I hadn’t seen in a long time. Then another, and another. A couple who goes on motorcycle rides with me held up their daughter who waved to me for them. A fraternity brother from college gave me a hug and the secret handshake (yeah, they still have those and I still remember it). An elected official walked by, called out my name, practically fell over the pew in front of me to shake my hand while we both were laughing and wishing each other a “Merry Christmas.”

Right up until the service started, I looked around the mass of humanity around me and realized I knew a lot of people. After all, the church is in the middle of the community where I live. The cemetery where my parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and loved-ones were buried is just down the road. (My ties to this community run deep, and run looooong).

My mother-in-law, though, was amazed. “How do you know all these people?” My answer was: “I believe.”

  • I believe in service to others.
  • I believe in caring for my neighbor.
  • I believe in doing. Not just sitting and watching, but doing.
  • I believe in being patient until things happen, and nudge ’em along when needed.
  • I believe that a smile is the best gift to give to others.
  • I believe that life is full of surprises and without them, life would be awfully dull.
  • I believe in holding friends close, and family closer.
  • I believe in my partner, wholeheartedly, without reservation or equivocation.
  • I believe that joy comes to those who share joy.
  • I believe in Santa. Well, in his magic, his spirit, and his love.
  • And yeah, I believe in love. Love is the only thing you get back more of the more you give it away.
  • I believe that God loves all of us, including us gay guys as well as the homophobes. God loves all — it is religion that causes separatism and some people to display hatred, which is what God teaches us is a sin.

As Susan Walker said in Miracle on 34th Street:

“I believe… I believe… It’s silly, but I believe.”

And to quote (badly) from the title of another Christmas classic, I kinda believe that I have a wonderful life.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Believe in yourself, believe in your fellow man, believe in your heart, and believe in life!

Unconditional Friendship

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Here it is, Christmas Eve, and I’ve been ready for months. Seriously — I bought my last Christmas gift in September. It’s something for my mother-in-law, who is visiting with us this week.

My partner and I discussed how bad the economy was, and decided that we would not give each other gifts this year. We decided to donate to charity in the other’s name. Non-profits need more help this year than ever, and my partner and I don’t really need anything.

It was difficult for me to figure out what charity to ask him to support for me. I am involved in a number of non-profit groups to which I contribute throughout the year (in both time and money), and I didn’t want his contribution on my behalf to favor one over another, or make it too complex and diluted to split it up among all of them. Then an email that I received last Friday decided it.

I need to explain by relating a life story of friendship that began 47 years ago. My family had just moved into a new house, and everyone in the family was busy unpacking. I was only four years old and too little to help. I was wandering around the front yard, bewildered about my new environment, and was probably feeling a little lonely and afraid. I looked up to see a kid about my age getting off the back of a bicycle being ridden by his older brother. He walked over to me and while I can’t remember exactly what he said, he became my very first friend. We went to school together through high school.

He and I spent a lot of time playing as kids, and enjoying a long-term friendship. He was faithful, loyal, and a good buddy. He never criticized me for not being able to play any sports, or for being klutzy as heck. He never once asked me why I didn’t want to go to the school dance with a date. His friendship to me was unconditional, and solid as a rock. I never really felt that I appreciated his loyalty until I was much older when I realized how important having someone like that in my life really was.

My friend was always somewhat of a vagabond. He was smart, but only when he applied himself. Most of the time, he didn’t even try. He dropped out of high school, and lived in his car in the back of a church parking lot. We brought him food and let him shower in our house, but he really didn’t want to be dependent. He would get a job, then pick a fight with the boss and get fired. He never seemed to be able to hold down a job for more than a few months. Though when he went for his G.E.D., he aced it.

He eventually moved to Florida then to central Virginia, and we kept in touch from time to time. He married, had kids, and completed an Associate’s Degree. He seemed to be settling down. But he kept having that problem with getting a job, working for a few months to a year, then getting fired, laid off, or otherwise becoming unemployed. He and his wife divorced, and he moved again to Florida to work in the construction industry.

Well, on Friday, December 19, I received an email from my friend in response to one I had sent several weeks ago where I was kidding him that the page in my address book was worn out from erasure marks. I wanted to update it again so I could send him a Christmas card. I was asking him where he was these days and what he was up to.

His response broke my heart. He told me that he lost his house due to foreclosure, his girlfriend left him, he hasn’t worked for six months and can’t find a job. He was down to his last dollar while living with some friends for a few days. All he asked was that I pray for him.

Well, sure, I’ll do that. But I decided to ask my partner for the money that was going to be donated to charity in my name to me so I could wire it to my friend. The least I could do (and add a little more of my own money).

I have mixed feelings, but I won’t judge my friend. He never judged me in all his life. The least I can do is try to help him out, to show what unconditional friendship really means.

Christmas means much more than gifts, lights, decorations, and food. It means family, love, and bonds of friendship that bring meaning to the day and its legacy throughout the year. Regardless of religious beliefs, or my personal divided feelings about organized religion — I truly have faith borne from the Christmas Spirit that carries me throughout the year to enjoy peace, love, and service to those for whom I care. Truly, that’s what Christmas — and my faith — is all about.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them. Merry Christmas, everyone, and may you live a good life rooted in faith and expressed with love.

Ho Ho Ho for 37 Years!

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Back when I was in junior high school in 1971, a group of friends got together to go Christmas caroling in our neighborhood. We would meet at one of our homes to practice each week for many weeks before our caroling adventures. We sure had a lot of fun.

So much fun, we continued to get together for caroling every year since. Yep, that’s right, 37 years now! We got together while we were in college, when members of the group were getting married, having children, working, and going through the events that make a life. I met my partner, built a house, got really active in the community, etc. My friends did the same. Some had large families, some are childless. Some moved away, some — like me — stayed in the area. Some returned to our former “stomping grounds” to buy their home and settle down. Some divorced. Two had spouses die. We have continued to remain in touch through the years, with e-mail making it far easier to do that.

While we don’t rehearse any more for weeks in advance, we still look forward to getting together on the Saturday night before Christmas at the home of one of our group. She bought her parent’s old house, so we still get together in the same neighborhood. My friends bring their spouses, children, and last night, six grandchildren were among the mix. 40 of us were together, 15 from the original group.

Yesterday as I was cooking and baking while my partner was driving to his mother’s to pick her up and bring her back to our home for Christmas, the doorbell rang in the early afternoon. Standing there was a friend who once was in our group, but moved away for college, and settled down on the West Coast. He returned to see his family, and stopped by to say, “hi.” Man, it was great to see him again. We whiled away the afternoon gabbing and catching up, and had dinner together with something I whipped up at home. He went with me to our gathering. Everyone was as pleased to see him as I was.

Instead of terrorizing the old neighborhood by going door-to-door as we once did, we went to three nursing homes and assisted living centers where some of my friend’s parents or grandparents live now. My friends pre-arranged with these facilities for our visit, so we wouldn’t interrupt their mealtime or conflict with another group.

We sang, a bit off-key, a bit out of tempo, but with good cheer and lots and lots of fun. Smiles all-around, laughter, and delight at the children and the grandchildren who sang their hearts out along with us.

After we completed our rounds, we returned to a friend’s house to visit with each other, catch up on our lives, have some food and drink, and talk late into the night. Since my partner wasn’t home and the weather was cooperating (cold, but not raining), I didn’t have to go home early. Though I was tired, I was very energized and stayed quite late — ’til after midnight.

I’m still a little groggy this morning, but I am cherishing memories and fun with a group of friends that have held together for such a long, long, long time. My partner will return with his mother today, so there’s no time to nap. Oh well, I’ll manage. We will enjoy making my M-I-L feel welcome, pampered, and loved.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them! Merry Christmas, and Ho! Ho! Ho!