Yearly Archives: 2008

What Defines a Person

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I have been enjoying a renewed conversation with a gay man who is coming out now to his friends and family. It’s been a long process for him. What he’s going through reminded me of what I went through when I came out — starting when I was in college (photo shown, circa 1977).

The guy with whom I am communicating is deeply thoughtful and introspective. He has asked me questions that have caused me to think. He shares analogies to experiences in his own life that are strikingly similar to things I’ve gone through — and also some experiences that I haven’t had.

One thing he said recently was this:

Through the example you’ve provided you’ve reinforced my belief that being gay doesn’t totally define your existence and there’s not a predefined mold you have to fit in. Sexuality is as natural as breathing and just as some people are tall and others are short, some are gay and others straight and some are in the middle. Although I don’t feel the need to made any grand announcements, I also won’t skirt the issue of my sexuality in conversation with friends and family.

I totally agree with his statement, and with his permission, I reproduced it here. I have never felt that being gay defined my total existence. It’s just a part of what makes me who I am.

While I appreciate the compliment in that whatever I have said or shown as an example, I’ve learned that coming to terms with what defines a person is complex and not related to one specific thing. It’s not related only to being gay, or only to being male, or only … to … anything!

As I have conversed with another masculine gay man (who happens to be from the same state as the man who inspired this particular post)… one defines himself in a variety of ways. How he lives, with what activities and people he engages, with what he does for a living, how he conducts himself, and many other factors. My buddies about whom I am writing share similar traits with me in having self-confidence, maturity, intelligence, and just being regular guys — not trying to be someone he’s not, nor hiding from being who he is. He just “is”. I admire men like that. No pretenses. What you see is what you get.

Thanks, guys — for reaffirming that guys can be guys and being a gay guy doesn’t define who that guy is. While you have said that I’ve helped you, you have helped me, too. I don’t “have” to identify as or with any particular identity, because what makes my identity as a masculine gay man is a combination of things. Just like for my friends. (And we like to wear our boots, too! That’s great!)

Life is short: be who you are, and wear your boots! (LOL!)

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!

Gift for Elderly Loved-Ones Who Don’t Need More Stuff

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I have a lovely aunt whom I care for, helping her continue to live independently. She is almost 94 years young. At that age, she has every “thing” she could possibly want. The last thing she needs for Christmas is more “stuff.” While it’s nice to give a gift of some sort, the plates, bobbles, coffee mugs, and figurines already overflow. The clothes she has are nice, and she can only use so many new pairs of socks or house slippers. Her pantry is full, her cupboards aren’t bare. There isn’t a thing in the world that she wants or needs.

Being of a certain age, she is quite forgetful. She is not able to get out on her own. She has gotten perturbed with herself when she discovers that she forgot to buy and mail a card to her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren for their birthdays.

So my gift to her, which I have been doing since I began the practice for my mother 15 years ago, is to go buy the cards for each person important to my aunt. I write the person’s name and address on the envelope, and put a stamp on it. Then I file the card in a card organizer by date. (Card organizers are available inexpensively from Amazon.) It’s helpful that I keep our large family tree and genealogy, so the birthdates and addresses are already on my computer.

All my aunt has to do (and sometimes with my prompting) is to check the monthly slot in the organizer at the start of each month and pull out the cards for that month, sign them, seal the envelopes, and put them out for the mail carrier to pick up. Simple! Perhaps someone receives a card a week or two early, but that’s far better than not getting a card at all. And they are amazed at how she remembers their birthdays! We won’t reveal our little secret. (LOL!)

Here I am today, while bread for the neighbors is rising and a home-made Manicotti is in the oven, organizing my aunt’s cards into her organizer for this year’s Christmas gift to her. Our buddies, Big Bear, Snowbeary, Katie the Koala, and Guido (on the motorcycle), are helping me (long story about these guys, tell ‘ya later….)

As they say, it’s the thought that counts. This is a way I show my love for someone who loves me very, very much. What a treasure my aunt is in our lives, and what joy we share.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them!

A Cop Gives Up His Boots

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A riding buddy of mine was assigned to a motorcycle police unit and has worked as a bike cop for many years. He also owns a personal motorcycle and we ride together from time to time. He’s a really great guy. We have enjoyed many rides together over the years.

He recently was promoted to Detective, and shed his regular uniform and tall patrol boots for a suit and dress shoes (yuck!) He told me that he always considered his patrol boots as part of the uniform. When we rode our motorcycles together, he always wore some kind of short tactical boots.

Due to his promotion and change of uniform, he asked me a while back if I knew if his six pairs of Dehner boots might have some future use for others. Um, yeah! He is not a “bootman” as I claim to be. He really wasn’t aware of, nor wanted to know about, the boot fetish community out here. What he doesn’t ask, I don’t tell. But over the years, he has seen me riding my Harley in all sorts of boots, tall and short, inside and outside of my jeans or leathers. He hasn’t said much about my boots, other than to give me a half smile and say sometimes, “new boots?”

He gave me his old boots and asked me to manage their sale on eBay. As my “sellers fee,” I could keep one pair for myself. Isn’t it fortunate that they’re my size! So here is the pair I chose to keep: the newest ones (to him) which he got just a few months ago. They are Dehner dress instep patrol boots. They’re stock, meaning that they have a leather foot and Dehcord (plastic) shaft. They have a standard Nitrile rubber sole. They are a 10.5D, which is a little bit larger than my usual boot size. However, they fit me just fine — especially since they have a 1″ wider calf circumference, which accommodates my muscular calves quite well.

The rest of his pairs of boots are sold — don’t come begging, please. Interestingly, they sold to five men in the U.K., who bid more for them than anyone else. I gave the net proceeds of the sale to my riding buddy, who put it to good use to take his wife and children to see his in-laws in California for Christmas.

This was a “win-win” for both of us. I really like these new-to-me-boots, and my riding buddy receiving an unexpected windfall.

Life is short: wear your boots!

The Love of My Life

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While the photo may be from springtime, the person in it is my Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter: the love of my life, my “bestest friend”, my soulmate, my partner, my man. Like a fellow blogger said the other day, the word “partner” sounds so businesslike, but until the term “love-of-my-life” replaces it, or until our country gets off its homophobic butt and lets us marry, then calling him my partner is all I can do right now.

He keeps me grounded. He keeps me on track. He respects me. He challenges me to think. He quietly keeps things running in our household while I am busy with community activities. He continues to ask me to take time for “me,” and to relax a bit, ride my Harley, read novels in Italian and other languages, or spend time with my family and elder-buds.

He’s not perfect. He won’t answer the phone or the door. He dislikes socializing. He has no friends. He doesn’t like to go out. He has a brittle temper, especially when he is in pain due to his disability. But he far more makes up for that, by being a warm, gentle, exceptionally caring, loving, intelligent, and thoughtful man.

He and I think exactly alike when it comes to finances, but he’s the financial brains of the outfit. We have no debt beyond a very small mortgage, we save for what we want to get or do so we don’t take loans, and through his guidance we have been setting aside funds and resources for retirement. Neither of us carry balances on credit cards, or throw away money by gambling or engaging in risky financial practices. But my personal financial situation is stable (even in today’s rough economy) because I mirror my partner’s high standards when it comes to money and investments.

Further, the love of my life just “does things” without asking, and without saying, “see what I’ve done.” The house doesn’t clean itself; the truck doesn’t shed its dirt; the laundry doesn’t pop itself into the washer and dryer and find its way into drawers and onto hangers… so many things he does that I don’t thank him enough for doing, because sometimes I get so busy that I don’t notice things he has done for me.

When I get really busy, I mean really, really busy in my civic life, he just quietly does whatever he can do to support me. He reorganized my office so all the different facets of my civic life were organized, filed, and prioritized. When I go fix things for my “elder buds,” he often is the one who gets the equipment, supplies, and materials that I need to do that. When I want to bake 20 loaves of bread in a week, he stocks the pantry with flour, yeast, raisins, cinnamon, and sugar.

That’s what’s so magic about the love of my life. Without saying a thing, he knows what needs to be done, and just does it. It’s more than reading my mind. He can read my soul. He is always there, truly reliable, my rock, and a warm snuggle on a cold night. And sexy, too — but this is a “G-rated” blog!

For all of this, I have vowed to make this Christmas the best yet. My partner has invited his mother to stay with us for the upcoming week. Since her husband died, her being alone on Christmas was not an option my partner would accept. My M-I-L is not the easiest person to be around. I’ll leave it at that. Let’s say past visits during the holidays have been challenging. But I absolutely vow that I will do all I can do to make her feel welcome, happy, pampered and loved. This is what I can do for my partner, who loves me unconditionally, with the purest of heart. And he loves his mother, too.

I cherish the man who makes my life all that it is and worth living. He is what makes Christmas merry for me. Thank you, God, for your Divine Intervention to bring us together, and for that, I remain, truly grateful to You, and live a life in faith and love.

Baking Away!

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Giving a home-made loaf of bread to all of our neighbors is a holiday tradition. It’s an Italian tradition, too: bread at Christmas is viewed as a gift of life to sustain the family and good cheer.

When my partner and I built our house, I worked with an architect to develop the kitchen that I had long wanted: three ovens, large cooktop, and a huge island on which to prepare my creations. Not that I am a great chef, but having room to work while enjoying an expansive view of our back yard park, and space for a table for four were also requirements of our design.

I bought an old farm which was slated for development from the parents of a high-school classmate. I won the bid to buy the farm since I promised to build low-density, single family homes, instead of what could have been: rows and rows of townhouses.

Since our house was completed first, we welcomed our new neighbors as the rest of the small neighborhood built out by bringing them a baked item of some sort — a cake, a pie, or cookies. Then as we incorporated our Homeowners Association, I was elected President, and my partner and I continued to share joy with our neighbors by bringing each one a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread at Christmas. I love to do it.

So here I am, with Christmas Carols playing in the background, singing off-key and baking away, preparing something home-made for my neighbors, our friends. We are so blessed to share our neighborhood with people who have a rich diversity of backgrounds, and in a community with a casual and mature kind of tolerance.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them!

Christmas Just Isn’t A Day, It’s a Frame of Mind

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Yep, it’s that time of year when my partner and I set up the assembly line to get out our holiday greeting cards. Every year I keep saying to myself that I have to cut the list, yet each year it seems to grow longer.

Let’s see, 128 cards to family (I have a very large family), 154 cards to “elder buds” who I adore and see throughout the year and who receive birthday cards from me as well, and about 120 others — life-long friends from elementary, junior high, high school, and college, additional friends I’ve made over the years, my former host families in Europe, as well as some elected officials who I work with.

Believe it or not, 402 cards is less than it had been. People and jobs change, circumstances where you knew people change, and some people have died.

I need to work on this list, but … I just get into that Christmas frame of mind and get a little emotional, spiritual, and misty. And while mass-produced cards with an annual photocopied Christmas letter, sent using a word-processed mailing label, is not as personal as I would like it to be, there’s just so much time available to get this all done.

Over the last few nights, my partner and I had the assembly line set up in our basement. We put DVDs of It’s a Wonderful Life, Miracle on 34th Street and my partner’s favorite, Ziggy’s Gift on to watch, and get to work. There I am saying the lines in the movies, “Mary, Mary…” or when George says “Merry Christmas Mr. Potter!” and old Potter replies, “Merry Christmas to you, in jail!” or “Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to,” while my partner smiles and rolls his eyes. I’ll hum to the tunes in Ziggy’s Gift because Ziggy doesn’t talk. He just smiles, helps out, and makes magic happen. His Christmas miracle makes my partner get all teary-eyed, while I shed a tear every time Susan discovers the miracle of the holiday granted by Kris Kringle, or George finds Zuzu’s petals when he’s brought back to real time and hugs Bert the cop.

I sign our names to the card and letter, and put on the address label on the envelope. My partner puts the card and the letter in the envelope, seals it, puts on a return address label and a stamp, and then I’m off to terrorize the US Postal Service.

And to think, I heard a news report recently that the number of cards being sent this year has dropped significantly. Well, shucks, not for me. It’s a holiday tradition, and something I look forward to doing. I think of all the people in our lives who have made it so much richer and rewarding, remembering one of Clarence’s line in It’s a Wonderful Life:

“Strange isn’t it. Each man’s life touches so many other lives. When he isn’t around he leaves an awful hole doesn’t he?”

THIS, my friends, is why I volunteer, why I serve, and why I love my family and friends. This hole is filled, not empty, because we all fill it with how intertwined our lives are, making each person through each of our actions just a little bit better each and every day.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Maintaining Shine on Chippewa Hi-Shine Boots

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Here I am in Sunday afternoon’s attire, out back, takin’ a break from reading, writing, and baking. I really mean it when I say that if you’re going to invest in leather, to wear it more than once-a-year to leather fetish events.

I’ve been asked from time to time how to keep a good shine on boots like Chippewa Hi-Shine engineer boots. While the boots are made of all leather, there is a thin plastic coating on the boots that makes them shine.

For many years, bike cops have used spray furniture polish on Dehcord, which is the plastic that stock Dehner boots are made of. My bike cop tenant swears by the practice of wiping down his Dehner boots with a damp cloth when he gets home, then after he takes his boots off, he gives them a light spray of household furniture polish and wipes the boots down again until they glisten. And his boots always look sharp!

So I tried spraying my new lug-soled Chippewa Hi-Shine boots with a little furniture polish and wiping them until there was no residue left. The boots look great! It really works!

I wore these boots to work today (dress pants over) and a couple of security-type guys in a meeting I attended at oh-dark-thirty this morning noticed the boots and asked me a lot of questions about them — what brand, how they feel, and how I keep them so shiny. I guess the treatment works! And as a side-benefit, dust will be repelled, too! Who could ask for more? (LOL!)

Life is short: wear your boots (and leather, when you can!)

Ready for Christmas

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We’ve been ready for Christmas for a while. My partner has a wonderful eye for decorating for the holidays. I tend to favor old family heirlooms that I inherited, and which decorated our family Christmas trees when I was growing up. My tastes, one could say, are odd and eclectic.

My partner, on the other hand, has style and grace. He likes Christmas trees to show some pattern of uniformity and symmetry. He has gone to stores for after-Christmas sales to get ornaments of the same size, shape, and style. For me, I don’t shop, and I don’t really want “same-same-same.” I’m the kind of guy who pulls out an ornament that had hung on our tree when I was a kid, and will wipe away a tear as I tell a story related to the ornament. I’m just a sentimental old fool, where my partner and Martha Stewart would have more in common when it comes to decorating.

Further, I grew up with having a cut “real” tree every year, or cutting our own at a tree farm. But over the last few years, since my partner’s disability has prevented him from going with me to pick out the tree, he has complained about how “funny-looking” and asymmetrical the trees were that I brought home. Having had enough of his complaints, last year I put my boot down and told him that I wasn’t getting any more cut trees. We went out the day after Christmas last year and bought a pre-lit artificial tree, which we put up for the first time this year. I’m still adjusting to it, but it looks nice, and I don’t have to worry about keeping it watered or its dropping needles all over the place. And it sure has a lot of branches for ornaments! I miss the fresh-cut tree smell, though (and artificial scent sprays just don’t do it for me.)

Our compromise, besides having an artificial tree this year, is that my partner hangs his symmetrical and well-“designed” ornaments on the side of the tree that faces outside, where it can be seen from the street. I hang my family heirloom ornaments on the inside, where I can see them and tell their stories. We are both happy.

Well, the stockings are hung, the wreaths are wrought (I mean, hung), the rest of the holilday decorations are all in place, so now it’s time to get down to baking. More on that in future blog posts.

Life is short! Show those you love that you love them!

Consequences of Gay Marriage

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This chart was provided by a Delegate to my state’s General Assembly. Too bad I don’t live in her district! Thanks, Adam, for the “mainstream” post on your blog!

Much more work to be done in my district with our Delegates. One is great, one is retiring, and one is awful. 2010 is just around the corner!