Yearly Archives: 2009

Commute from Hell

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This week, our Metrorail system is still in major recovery mode from the June 22 crash. Trains stop without notice, slug along slowly, and are crowded as heck. I spoke with a member of Metro’s Board of Directors about it, and he foretold no end in sight. He also reminded me that the crowds are compounded not only with regular commuters, but holiday visitors to Washington, DC.

Today I decided to ride my Harley to work, located in downtown DC on Capitol Hill. I found a great place where I can park safely and for free. The ride there at 5:30am was a piece of cake. The ride home, however, was the commute from hell. I had completely forgotten how awful our traffic is, even earlier in the afternoon. It took me 1:45 to get home. Usually I make it door-to-door in 45 minutes. My feet were really hot (I wore Chip Hi-Shines)… I swear I poured out a liter of sweat from each boot when I pulled them off my feet and wrung out the socks! Air-cooled 1600cc engines get awfully hot in stop-and-stop traffic.

Oh well, I tried… and now remember that driving in the city is no fun (even on a Harley), with the frequent stops at traffic lights and the bumper-to-bumper traffic. On Monday, after our holiday weekend, I am returning to Metro, despite its delays.

And the GPS? … not good for the city. It kept telling me to turn on streets that I know “don’t go there.” Not a good day overall. Here’s hoping to have an early “snuggle night” tonight, where I will relax in my partner’s arms, listen to music, and just relax. That will prepare me for the day-o’-shoppin’ comin’ up tomorrow. Check back!

Life is short: hmmm… longer I guess if you’re stuck in traffic!

Ready to Navigate

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I blogged not that long ago about the fact that I get lost in a paper bag. That is, my navigation skills while driving are not all that good. I decided not to offer to lead a ride for my club for the specific reason of being afraid that I would lose the group by taking a wrong turn. I had tried to ride the route in advance, but got lost.

My partner is a reader and a thinker. He is also a great listener. For the umpteenth time, he heard me share my concerns about getting lost while leading rides. In his considerate style, he put thoughts to action and bought me a top-of-the-line GPS unit, specifically designed for motorcycle use. He said it was an early birthday present (my b/d is six weeks from now).

That man of mine is so thoughtful. He applies what he hears to action, and makes it happen. While I am apprehensive about distracted driving, I am assured that when used properly, it will aid me in my navigation. It has a voice feature that when connected to an earphone will allow it to “tell” me the turns, so I don’t have to stare at the GPS’ screen.

I had arranged to drop off my bike for regular service on Monday evening. My partner followed me so he could take me home. That’s when he gave me the GPS, right there in the car. He suggested that I have my mechanic install it while the bike was being serviced.

When I picked up the bike, the GPS was installed and working. I punched “home” and tested it … and it took me on the precise route that I usually drive between the shop and my home. It worked great!

Isn’t my man thoughtful? Now, no complaints from me in getting lost. And no complaints about spending a lot of time on what my partner wants done: our home renovations.

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

Givin’ Some Lovin’

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Here are two things I say often, and mean it:

Love is the only thing you get more of the more you give it away.

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

One can show love by listening to and caring about his wide circle. I celebrate the accomplishments, opportunities, fun, and friendship of several people I hold close in my heart:

  • Maf, for earning his Master’s Degree, a challenging task that he achieved through hard work and dedication.

  • Bruce_Sg for doing so well on his GREs that several graduate programs are interested in him and competing for him to select their school for his doctoral work. And commendations to him for being prudent in making that very important selection!

  • “K” who is writing his doctoral paper diligently, though is taking a well-deserved vacation out west shortly. I enjoy emailing with him almost daily, and have learned so much. Have a wonderful trip!

  • My best friend “AZ,” for achieving a significant goal that he set out to do: buy a home of his own. Nothin’ makes you feel as wonderful as owning your own place.

  • My “booted twin” Clay who has made a very difficult decision in his life and is moving forward — making lemonade out of lemons. I support you, buddy!

  • My buddy “G” from Ohio who just co-led a celebration of his parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. He and his family are so blessed to share the joy of a golden anniversary.

  • Paul who reads my blog daily and sends me a message about what he thinks about what I wrote each and every day. May all bloggers have such a loyal following!

  • A cousin who had always wanted a Harley, but couldn’t afford it. He set up a savings account, and over six years, contributed enough that enabled him to pay cash for his new ride. I can’t wait to go ride with him sometime soon.

  • “H”, a childhood friend, who worked hard to put a mountain of debt behind her, avoid declaring personal bankruptcy, and finally pay off all of her bills. It took nine years, but was well worth it.

  • “Z” and “B”, mentees and friends, who will be sworn in as our country’s newest citizens on the Fourth of July. They worked hard to pass their citizenship test, and deserve this recognition for achieving a goal of seven and eight years, respectively. They care for their families, work and pay taxes to contribute to society, and demonstrate what the “American Dream” is all about. I’m so happy for them. (I’ll be there waving the flag on the Fourth of July!)

  • “A”, my new riding buddy who has been practicing his motorcycle skills and has put on 3,000 miles on his bike in just three months. Way to go!

  • Sue, a fellow bloggin’ pal, who in about two weeks is returning home to Australia. She has been sharing joy and stories of visits with family and rides on her Harley that are a delight to read. I hope she continues her blogging when she returns Down Under, as she is a talented and interesting writer.

  • My partner, who has been so incredibly patient with his overly-demanding mother. Much more now than ever. God bless him.

  • Bama, who honored me recently by spending time with me, havin’ a little fun huntin’ for mud (and only finding dust), and saying that he was fortunate to meet me. Let me tell ‘ya, the fortune was all mine.

  • Mrs. “L” for finally getting her crazy tax situation worked out with the state, and getting not only a huge refund but a letter of apology! (I kinda coached her on how and to whom to kvetch.)

  • Mr. “T”, who at age 90, walked four miles yesterday morning! Bless his soul!

Life is short: celebrate the achievements of others, and show ’em some lovin’!

Sometimes the Gay Community Is Hardest On Itself

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I am gay; no secret. I’m out to my family, friends, in my community where I live and volunteer, and where I work. I consider myself a masculine gay man. My voice sounds like any other adult male. I carry myself that way. I wear boots (always) and prefer jeans, t-shirts, and when it’s cooler, wearing leather. I ride a motorcycle. I build things. But I don’t care for sports … or women (sexually), though I have many female friends.

There are other gay men who behave differently from me. That’s fine; everyone is different. Some are more effeminate sounding. Some dress in fine suits and are clothes horses. Some like dancing and partying late into the night. Some are single, and some are not.

I am among the latter — as it says in my intro on this blog (to the right), I am monogamously partnered. I don’t hide the fact that I am partnered, and that I love my man (and he loves me).

But I have to say, sometimes the Gay Community, as ever it may be defined, is very hard on itself. There are some gay people who ridicule other gay guys for their looks, appearance, interests (fetish or otherwise), and behavior.

There are times when I have been subject to what may be defined as “hate speech” or “ignorant speech” from some men who are heterosexual. I do not often think of myself as a minority, but as a gay man, I am. So the discrimination and negativity directed at what other people do not understand and/or fear happens sometimes. I deal with it. But that’s one reason why my partner and I choose to live where we do, because our community, county, and state is generally more accepting and tolerant (compared with states such as Virginia where my partner once lived.)

But what seriously puzzles me is how hateful and catty the gay community can be. For example, I received an email the other day from a gay guy who likes boots but apparently, for whatever reason, doesn’t like me. I don’t even know the guy, but he took it upon himself to insult me. Well, as I have often said, “sticks and stones….”

Then I heard some gay guys making fun of another gay man because he wasn’t out. Yet they themselves live part-way in the closet.

Then there are the gay guys who have a partner, but then post photos of themselves and write with sexual innuendo implying … whatever … but to me, it is unfaithfulness. But because I don’t want to go down the road of being judgmental as some have been toward me, I have let it go. They do what they do, and I talk about my partner a lot. So be it. To each his own.

But there’s no need for gay people to attack other gay people through rude email messages, posts on internet forums, or talking behind backs (as word eventually gets back to the person being talked about) and spreading gossip or rumors. Some of these guys need to get a life. They may think they have a life, but if they have to resort to being rude and negative, then they have more growing up to do.

If the Gay Community expects heterosexual people to be fair, just, and let them live a decent life, then we must hold ourselves to the same standard.

John F. Kennedy said, “…civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof.”

It Felt Weird

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Today is the Harley Owner’s Group’s “Million Mile Monday” where members are encouraged to ride — and ride alot — then enter their mileage on-line so that HOG can demonstrate how many miles members rode in one day. My chapter is sponsoring an exceptionally long ride today. Because I was out of the office almost all last week on travel, I couldn’t take a day off today for fun. Plus, riding over 400 miles in a day is not something I realistically can handle. My bike could handle it fine. My body could not. I know my limits. Plus, after a weekend of skydiving and floor laying, I am sore in places of my body that I didn’t know I had!

As I rolled my Harley out of the garage, I was seriously debating contributing some more miles than my usual daily ride in recognition of HOG’s MMM by riding to work. I usually ride to the local Metro station and hop on the train to get to work. Metro has reopened the entire red line, which I use, and thus I would be able to get to work using it. However… I among many still have residual uncomfortable feelings about Metro’s safety. But I also know that now more than ever, they are being exceptionally careful.

So I sat on my bike out in the driveway, watching the sun rise, and was having this big debate with myself. Do I want to try to find a place to park in the city? Would it be safe? Am I willing to deal with the traffic hassles, especially on my return commute? Should I show Metro support, and return to using it right away? Should I confront my anxiety head-on and return to my usual routine?

Well, I did the latter… and rode to the station, parked the bike, locked it up six ways from Sunday, covered it, and then walked to the platform.

I would say there were the usual number of riders. But none in the first car. I got on the second car, which was a 1,000-series train — the most notorious for being the oldest and least safe in the fleet. I began debating again, deciding whether I should switch cars, when that familiar recorded voice declared, “step back, doors are closing!” I took a seat, and began to read the daily free rag to see what the Resnubrikans were railing about today. (One of the daily free rags is ultra-conservative. It’s always a good idea to keep an eye on what they’re saying.)

The train slowly crawled out of the station, and moved more slow than usual down the tracks. I was facing forward, and could see that there were no passengers in the first car. Throughout the trip, I didn’t see anyone get on the first car.

As the train passed by the location where the wreck occurred a week ago today, it stopped, then crawled ever-so-slowly through the area, then picked up a little more speed and continued on its way.

I arrived safely at Union Station. But I have to admit that it felt weird. Should I have ridden the bike to work? Well, I made a different choice: face up to my apprehensions and try to return to my usual routine. So HOG will get only five miles from me for MMM today. That’s okay, I’m sure many others will make up much more of the difference.

Life is short: face your fears.

Both Work and Fun

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Whenever possible, I at least try to build in a little “fun time” between “work time” on my busy weekends. So you are looking five hours’ progress on the project to lay hardwood flooring in our upstairs hallway. I started at 5am yesterday morning, and by 10, I was done with that project for the day.

I was drenched in sweat, so I took a shower. As I was drying myself, my best friend “AZ” called, and we chatted for a while about something important going on in his life. After completing the call, I changed into breeches with Dehner patrol boots — why not? I kinda like how they look together. I hopped on my Harley and went to visit with my aunt, then went to the grocery store to pick up a few things for one of her neighbors. Dropping off the items with a smile, I got back on the bike and rode home.

I got to thinking as I was riding along that no one anywhere said a think about the boots and breeches. Not my aunt, not her neighbors, and no one in the grocery store. (Though there was a guy following me in the store who had his eye on my boots, but didn’t say anything and didn’t follow me out of the store.)

When I got home, I realized that I had about an hour before my partner would return from his brief trip to visit his mother, so I created a fun little video and posted it on YouTube, which you can see below.

Life is short: have a little fun when the work is done!

Jumped at the Chance to Play Hookey

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Yesterday, I was busy catching up on things at home after being gone almost a week on business travel. My partner is away visiting his mother, so I was tempted on such a sunny, beautiful day, to get out on my Harley and ride. Alas, my aunt required some attention, another elderly couple needed a cabinet repaired, and my usual Saturday routine of grocery shopping with the ladies wasn’t to be missed.

I got home about noon, and thought that the rest of the day would be spent working on our hallway renovation project. I promised my partner I would do that. So I got out all of the tools and materials, and began the job. Then the phone rang.

A buddy was calling saying that he was in a real spot. I had sold him my old parachute and he was getting it ready to go skydiving with some mutual friends, but something wasn’t right with my old ‘chute. He had worked himself up into a dither. He so desperately wanted to go skydiving, but if something were wrong with the ‘chute, then he would not be able to go. He sounded so disappointed and frustrated.

“You know that ‘chute better than anyone. Can you fix it?”

I still wasn’t sure quite what was wrong, but he sounded so desperate, I just had to go help. I decided to bring him my own parachute, so that if I weren’t able to get his ‘chute fixed, he could still go skydiving. I hopped on my Harley (a-ha! what an excuse to ride!) and boogeyed over to the airport. There was my friend. He had the parachute all laid out on the grass.

He jumped up and ran over to me. “I can’t pack it! It won’t pack!” he shrieked. This guy is a nice man, but he does get a tad excitable. Turns out that he had it all backwards. Some of the ‘chute lines were tangled. We straightened them out and ensured each was free, and began to fold it. What I liked most about my old ‘chute is that it practically folded itself. I wrapped the static line loosely along the top of the pack, then closed it with the pin, and voi-la, it was all ready. Nothing was wrong with it; my buddy simply had forgotten how to pack it. (Can’t say that spending eight hours of training on the matter helped him that much, but that’s quite another story.)

The rest of the guys showed up, and the pilot said those magic words, “hey, we’ve got an open spot, wanna come?”

Well, I do have all that work to do back home…

BUT…

I couldn’t resist. Hmmm, for some reason, I was already dressed in BDUs and jump boots. But honestly, that’s what I put on to do work on the floor! Really! God’s truth! (My partner would never believe me, because I usually wear old cruddy jeans and my Station Boots to do renovation work.)

We jumped three times yesterday afternoon. We didn’t go very high — just about 8,000 feet for each jump. High enough to see the surrounding area, but not so high as to spend all afternoon in freefall (LOL).

Today, I promise: I will work on that hallway project which must show significant progress before my partner arrives home about 2:00. (And either call me honest or a glutton for punishment, but I plan to tell my partner about the Saturday diversion, even if he won’t be happy).

Life is short: have fun!


Traveling with Dirty Engineer Boots

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Photo of my boots courtesy of Bamaboy

I flew home from Alabama yesterday. I decided to wear the Chippewa Engineer Boots that I “played” in during my visit with Bamaboy. Because it was so blasted hot, even though the boots got a bit wet, they dried quickly. The dust created a fine “dirty” patina on the boots, which attracted some attention.

One of the staff at the hotel asked me as I was leaving, “do you work construction?” She was obviously staring at my boots. I just smiled and said, “yeah, sometimes.”

When I got to the airport, Bama came by to give me something I had forgotten and left in his truck (I swear, if my head weren’t screwed on, it would fall off.) He also noticed the boots and gave me a compliment. LOL!

As I went through airport security, two ramp agents also were going through behind me. They both watched me take off my 17″ Chippewa Engineers, put them in a plastic tray and send them through the x-ray. On the other end, I sat down to put them on. They both sat next to me to tie their work boots and each said, “nice boots!” These are the non-steel toe variety, which are light on the feet and feel great.

As I walked down the hall, a shoe-shine guy looked at my boots and said, “I can clean those up for you! Have a seat.” I politely declined by saying, “Man, I like ’em this way!”

I wandered down to the gate, and caught up on the news on the TV. An older gentleman sat down next to me. He looked at my boots, then at me, and said, “do you ride a bike?” We talked for a while about motorcycle riding. Turns out he was a motorcycle racing team member back in the day. I enjoyed our conversation — initiated by the boots.

I boarded the small regional jet, and actually slept all the way to Charlotte. The connection was quick; no waiting. I read a book on the way home to BWI. While I was waiting for the parking shuttle at my home airport, a guy walked up to me and said, “man, those boots are cool! What kind are they?” I had a short but pleasant chat.

Dirty boots seem to get a lot of attention. It’s what guys wear!

See the full gallery of photos from our visit on my website, here.

Life is short: wear your boots!

Bamatality

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Bamaboy’s Chips, left; BHD’s Chips, right

Greetings from Alabama. The meeting I helped to lead ended mid-day yesterday, and after that, I hung out with a buddy who goes by the screen name “Bamaboy.” Yep, that’s right: the real, the honest-to-goodness muddy-booted photo genius himself. I have had the great pleasure of getting to know him and developing a fond friendship.

Bama must have read my previous blog post about how I get lost easily. He sent me a hand-drawn map, showing the precise route from the airport to the hotel where I am staying, as well as the conference facility where my meeting was held. He offered and followed through in very tangible ways to make my visit enjoyable.

We had a nice lunch, and talked about a lot of things. We share similar outlooks on life and what’s important: honesty, integrity, commitment to family, and loyalty to friends.

After lunch, we went on a mud-hunt. All we could find was dust! The places where Bama thought there might be mud were all dried up due to lack of rain and very hot temperatures drying the soil.

So we splashed up some water and got some dust on the boots in dried-up mud spots while laughing a lot. Bama is a great guy with a wicked-funny sense of humor. I truly enjoyed our visit, even though the mud wasn’t around. The company is what mattered most. I very much appreciate his time, friendship, and fun. How truly wonderful it was to have had the pleasure of enjoying his southern charm and hospitality.

Life is short: combine business and pleasure when you can!

Photo by Bamaboy of BHD kickin’ up a splash

Home Renovation: Phase I Update

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Last weekend was busy, as usual. I haven’t shown yet the most recent progress on the flooring project of our upstairs hallway. Here it is!

We are making slow but steady progress. The flooring goes down fairly easily. The only hitch I have run into is that occasionally a board must be nailed into place (to keep it from sliding) and the cheap Chinese-made nails I am using bend while being hammered into place.

Hammer? Whazzat? Don’t you use a nail gun?

Sure, I have a nail gun — a pretty good one, as a matter of fact. It nailed our house together. But it’s big, cumbersome, and heavy. If I have to nail one finishing nail every now-and-then, I will use a hammer instead of getting that big bulky thing out, making all that noise, etc.

The progress is slowed on our renovation work due to my partner’s health issues (resolved now) and some travel that takes me away for a few days. But it will get done… steady and surely.

Life is short: do your own renovations!