Yearly Archives: 2010

Buying New Boots via the Internet

Posted on by

People have asked me how I get the best deal possible on the purchase of new boots. Following are my “secrets” which aren’t really secret, but may not be known or practiced by some.

1. If a pair of boots comes to my attention that I would like to have, I get the manufacturer name, model name, and stock number (if I can find it).

2. I use a search engine, like Google, and enter the information about the boots. For example, “Justin Bent Rail Buckaroo.”

3. I read the results that are presented on various websites, but I generally avoid the first three results at the top, which are paid advertisements and not necessarily the least expensive source.

4. If I find a good price, I note the seller and I bookmark the page. But I don’t buy YET!

5. I visit the websites of my favorite boot retailers. Links to these boot retailers are on my website. I check to see if my favorite retailers carry the boots and what their price is. They may or may not carry the boots, and if they do, they may not always come up in a search. So it’s always a good idea to check your favorites when you have something with which to compare them. (From Step 4.)

6. I generally avoid buying boots from retailers that do not offer free shipping. However, sometimes retailers that charge for shipping are the only source of a certain brand and style of boots, so I shop around and check shipping fees during my searches.

7. When I have narrowed the potential sources down to two or three, I then use Google again and type in “Discount Coupon XXX” where “XXX” is the name of the on-line retailer. Many times, I have come up with an active, working, on-line discount coupon from a retailer that gives me an additional 10%, 15%, or even 20% off the listed “sale” price. This step is important, and can save you a LOT of money!

8. I then compare shipping charges among the top two or three on-line retail choices. Sometimes the boots may cost a little less, but the shipping will make the final total higher. Factor in all costs, including whether you have to pay sales tax. (For example, if you live in California and buy from Bootbarn.com or Stomperboots.com, you have to pay sales tax. Go through the motions of placing an order to determine what the final price will be, including all taxes and shipping fees, as well as applicable discounts.

9. If the on-line retailer that offers the best price is not one with which I have experience, then I will take an extra precautionary step. I will go back to google, and enter “XXX consumer complaints” where “XXX” is the name of the retailer. I want to see if there are serious complaints about the company from multiple people. A single rant from one dissatisfied person is not enough to scare me away. But multiple legitimate complaints may cause me to order elsewhere.

This process can be a little arduous or time-consuming, but it can save anywhere from US$20 – $100 on a pair of new boots. Since boots will last a long time, the time you put into shopping for a good price is worth it.

Life is short: enjoy your boots!

My Home, My Community, My Life

Posted on by

As I continue on the path of recuperation to care for my recently broken leg, I have a lot of time to think about a lot of things. I truly feel that one can have the advantages of “small-town community” within suburban sprawl if he wants it to happen.

I know a bit about growing up in a small town. When I was a kid, we lived six months each year on my mother’s family horse ranch in rural Oklahoma. The nearest town was 14 miles away. And even then, “town” was one traffic light, one lower school (grades 1-8), one high school, one grocer, one “druggist,” and one library. Everybody knew everybody. You couldn’t snitch a cigarette in the back of the hardware store with your buddy without someone tattle-taling to your Mom. You couldn’t have your eyes on a pair of boots in the western store without the store owner having “a chat” with your Dad. You weren’t really “from” there unless your grandparents were buried in the local cemetery. You always bought or traded everything you needed with your neighbors. It was just that kind of place. Everybody knew everybody, and there was a strong sense of “community belonging” and cohesion.

When someone was down on their luck, sick or injured, or someone died, all of the neighbors would rally around and offer help. True help — the kind you needed when things went wrong. They brought food, helped do housecleaning, provided childcare, did laundry, or whatever needed to be done. That is what neighbors in a small town do for each other, even to this day.

Some people love that kind of life. Some others do not. There are trade-offs. You have no privacy. You have no sense of individuality. It is very hard to come out and be accepted as a gay person, especially if the majority of the community residents are “Christian” (quotes on purpose.)

I began to live permanently within suburban sprawl, north and east of our nation’s capital, when I was ten years old, after my Dad was stationed permanently in Washington after working in Europe six months of the year for a long time. We lived in Maryland, which borders Washington, DC. We visited Oklahoma in the summers instead of half a year.

Almost one million residents call our county “home.” There are few defined cities. We ramble from one zip code to the next. There is a lot of history here, but you have to know where to look for it. Most people who live here came from somewhere else. I am among the few who can point to the local cemetery and show the graves of my parents and paternal grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins….

It is easy to be anonymous among all of this sprawl. Rent an apartment or buy a house, then go to work, come home, go out to eat, make friends of co-workers who live in outlying suburbs. This is the common way of life for many of my neighbors. The anonymity happens due to the dearth of local connections. Some people like that. Personally, I don’t.

I have always felt that the small-town feeling of closeness to your neighbors is important. Therefore, throughout my life, I have worked hard to make my sprawling ‘burb a “home.” I have gotten involved in community life. I was elected to a non-partisan position that works on many community issues. I have gotten to know all of my neighbors, not just those on either side of my house. I have grown deeply involved in a large retirement community that is near where I live. This is where my “senior buds” and my aunt live. I’m over there all the time.

Over 40 years of local “community building” has resulted in my truly having a home where I live, with a casual and mature kind of tolerance. My partner is accepted completely, as I am — as gay men among the local residents. We are not the “token” gay couple by any means. Good thing about living around here is that most folks “live and let live.” I know my neighbors. I know their kids. I know the names of the regular employees at most of the local stores at which I shop (but can’t tell you the names of the barista at the Starbucks or the server at the local chain restaurants frequented by the yuppie set, ’cause I choose not to go there).

I can tell you the names of the cops on the local beats, and the firefighters at the local station, and the faculty in the local schools. I mean, this is my home. This is where I live. This is my community. This is MY LIFE.

Man, I’m so lucky to live in such a wonderful place. Rich with life, with diversity, with ideas, with acceptance, with community spirit. Both my roots and my boots are planted deep.

When I had my recent set-back in breaking the bone in my leg, my house has been a non-stop beehive of business — of neighbors getting to work to help out. It brings tears of joy to my eyes, and a song to my heart, to know that we can and we do have a strong, vibrant, local community because we have made it that way.

It is possible…even while living among suburban sprawl. It is what you make it to be. And I can show you the rich rewards that the investment of community-building has brought to me, and to my neighbors, friends, and senior buds.

Life is short: love where you live!

One Year Ago Today

Posted on by

My, it’s weird how things can change in a year’s time. One year ago today I was visiting my best friend, AZ, in Phoenix. I had rented a Harley and we saddled up and went for ride to Sedona, Arizona. Within that year, my best friend bought a house and moved (still in Phoenix), and I broke my leg. On the bright side, his “condition” is permanent, while mine is temporary (or better be!)

I can remember that trip as if it were yesterday. The scenery was gorgeous. The ride was fun. The roads were great. The weather was perfect. What I recall the best, of course, is the fun I had with my best buddy, and his warm charm, smiles, and delightful way of making you feel good about yourself and life, in general. He has that way about him — a unique gift that makes everyone around him feel great.

Today, I sit at home with my leg propped up, still, and I am not able to walk. I couldn’t ride a bike if I wanted to. I am uncomfortable, cranky, and longing to get out of the hole in which I am stuck, albeit temporarily. I look out the window at mountains of snow in my yard. We still have at least two feet of snow in the yard from the back-to-back attacks of Snowzilla we endured not that long ago.

Instead of dwelling on my desire to be out of this predicament and be anywhere — ANYWHERE — else in two boots on two feet, I close my eyes and think of the long weekend that I spent with my best buddy, a wonderful host, and my best friend. Those memories bring serenity and smiles.

This is yet another reason why my partner likes AZ so much — because try as he might to snap me out of it, my partner hasn’t been happy that I’ve been grumpy. Having “mental diversions” like this help me relax, and makes my partner feel better, too. He hates it when I’m unhappy. Bless him — he’s always caring for me however he can.

Life is short: enjoy your memories!


Count Your Blessings

Posted on by

If you can wake up in the morning, get out of bed, and stand up on two feet…

If you can go into your bathroom and brush your teeth all by yourself…

If you can stand at the toilet and pee all by yourself without having to have someone steady you so you don’t fall while in such a compromising, personal position…

If you can take a shower and wash your body and hair all by yourself…

If you can dry yourself off…

If you can stand at the sink and shave…

If you can go to your clothes closet and pick out your own clothes to wear and put them on all by yourself…

If you sit at the end of the bed and put on a pair of boots all by yourself on both feet…

If you can make your way down stairs all by yourself while upright (that is, not have to sit and come down on your rump stair-by-stair while your partner holds your crutches and hovers over you to make sure you don’t fall)…

If you can make your way to your own kitchen and prepare an actual breakfast with real food, pulling juice from the fridge, put toast in the toaster, cook eggs or waffles or pancakes on the stove…

If you can walk to the end of the drive to get the daily newspaper that was delivered…

If you can get into a car or onto the saddle of a motorcycle and drive yourself somewhere…

If you can ride public transportation and not be afraid of someone knocking you over and actually finding a seat in the zone reserved for people with disabilities…

If you can walk to work without worrying about climbing over mounds of snow or ice and potentially slipping, falling, and breaking something (again)…

If you can go to work and be productive all day…

If you can drive yourself back home and perhaps stop at the grocery store to run an errand or mail a card…

If you can stop at the home of your family member whom you adore and want to make sure is alright, parking in a distant visitor’s space and walk quite a distance to her building…

When you get home, if you can get the mail from your mailbox all by yourself…

If you can fill the backyard bird feeder all by yourself…

If you can plan and prepare a nice home-cooked, satisfying meal for dinner at home with your mate…

If you can get to an evening meeting in the community, speak at a hearing, collaborate on a political campaign, or just visit with friends at their home…

When it’s time for bed, if you can get yourself up stairs in an upright position, not having to go backwards up on your rump one stair at a time while your partner holds your crutches and hovers over you because he’s afraid you will fall…

If you can brush your teeth, use the toilet, and wash before going to bed all by yourself without help…

If you can change out of your clothes into what you wear when you sleep all by yourself…

If you can go to sleep without the necessity of taking sleep aids, pain medication, or other drugs and actually fall asleep…

If you can be comfortable in your own bed, without having to prop your damn leg higher than your heart on a bulky pillow…

If you can sleep next to your mate who isn’t afraid of hurting you or being hurt by sleep-kicking of an unwieldy, heavy, bulky cast on your leg…

And if you don’t have to repeat the entire process the next day, day after day after day…

And if you have a partner, spouse, mate, or close companion who will help you with all of these tasks of daily life that you no longer can do for yourself…

And if you have competent health care that ensures you actually WILL recover from a severe injury or illness…

…COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS!

I do, every day. I am so deeply appreciative, thankful, and blessed to have my man by my side as I continue on the road to recovery from this broken leg. I appreciate that I do have health insurance and good doctors and a pharmacy plan. The teabagging morons who could give a shit about their neighbors just don’t get it…and unfortunately, they never will.

I think of all the people I know who have a permanent condition where they can’t fend for themselves any more, at all … and who have limited health care through Medicare or Medicaid, or no health care access at all. They put up with a lot more than I have had to deal with… and it’s a life sentence for them. Such a “life.”

While I am annoyed at being temporarily hobbled and confined, there is light at the end of the tunnel and I’ll be back into two boots and on my feet soon, while some of my elderly friends don’t have that option. They’re alone, lonely, and abandoned. This is why I go out of my way to care for others. I’ve seen it, and now have experienced it with my own bum leg! I’m no saint. I’m no angel. I’m just a guy who cares, and acts on his passions.

I can truly understand now better than ever why my Uncle Charlie just wanted to die at the end of his life’s winter. It’s miserable to be completely dependent on another and be so unable to do … what you once could do.

Life is short: count your blessings!

Gay Men-Straight Men Friendships

Posted on by

The other day, someone googled the phrase, “Gay Men – Straight Men Friendships” and it ended up on this blog. But I realized that I haven’t blogged much about those types of relationships.

Okay, so I am a gay man. I am in a monogamous relationship with a man — my mate, partner, best half… etc. Most of my friends are straight — as is most of the world. What is my relationship with men in my world who are straight?

To be honest, it varies. Most guys I know are open-minded, and don’t consider my sexual orientation as a threat to their manhood. But some are wary, distant, puzzled, or just don’t want to deal with it. That description fits best about the guys who I ride motorcycles with. They’re fine if I’m out there riding, but they generally prefer not to socialize with me. Then again, I don’t socialize with them much, either. Not because I don’t like them, but because the social activities besides motorcycling that they do are not something I enjoy: going to a ball game, dancing, hanging out late at a restaurant or bar. All these things don’t interest me. They never have. And not because I’m gay, but because I never have enjoyed sports, dining, dancing, drinking alcohol to excess, etc. (Just ask my twin brother!)

In the on-line community, I have enjoyed hearing from a lot of guys, both gay and straight. They all express concern and camaraderie, and bring a smile to my face in knowing that they care. While most of my on-line contacts are gay, not all are. In fact, several of the guys I communicate with regularly are straight. Sexual orientation isn’t an issue to these guys who are secure in their own self-perception.

It really all comes down to how confident and secure people are. Men who are confident in themselves, their identity, and their sexual orientation don’t care if I am gay. They care about me as a person. One who can share information, fun, and camaraderie.

I can say that I have a lot of friends, many of whom I have known since childhood. They have known me all of their lives and the fact that I am gay is never an issue because they knew me before they knew my sexual orientation.

New people who I meet generally are friendly and we get along well. Then when they find out that I am gay, some don’t think a thing about it (or indicate that they do), and some will become more distant. I let them decide how to relate to me. I don’t push myself on them (or anyone.) It’s their decision as to what type of relationship to have with me.

Does it bother me that some men distance themselves from me once they find out that I am gay? Sure. I’m a sensitive guy. But I am also mature enough to realize that some guys just don’t want to develop a deeper relationship as a friend with a guy whose sexual orientation is opposite their own.

Further, I have to admit that what forms bonds of friendships is shared interests. Are you interested in boots and leather? We can talk for days, weeks, years. You want to know about websites, blogging, wikis, etc.? Let’s talk! How to repair and remodel a house? I got ‘ya covered. Shared history in going to school and growing up together? We’ve got lots to talk about.

But if you want to know who is competing in the Olympics, what teams are playing football or baseball, or what grammafronzit fits best in a motorcycle engine, then that leaves me out. I’m just not interested in those things. Interest in sports, engines, or activities like that is not a gay/straight matter. There are a lot of gay guys who are very interested in sports, who build bikes, or fix up cars. I just don’t happen to be one of them.

Issues about shared interests is what begins the development of a friendship, and builds those bonds for a durable period of time. If we aren’t interested in the same things, then we don’t have much to talk about, do we? That has nothing to do with being gay or straight as it has to do with what we can do and talk about together.

I look at who I call my “closest” friends. Two (one straight male and one straight female) from my childhood; my very close friends met through on-line activities: AZ, Clay, Kevin, and Bama — three gay and one straight. My senior pals — almost too numerous to count — and all straight. They are close because of what we have done and shared together, and my sexual orientation has nothing to do with it.

I am a confident, secure, masculine gay man. I am well connected in my community and in my profession. If someone doesn’t want to be my friend, I can live with it. I do… all the time. It’s natural, and I no longer get upset if someone doesn’t seem to want to reach out and build a closer relationship. That will happen with some people, and not with others.

Life is short: know who you are, and be happy with that. Have friends who care about you, and show you care for them.

Best Friend

Posted on by

What’s a “best friend?” I think of grade school, when you picked one person to be your “best friend” and everyone else was second….

As an adult, of course, things are different. I have my partner, life-long friends, intimate friends, close friends, casual friends, and acquaintances. Of course my partner is my “bestest” friend, but that’s a different story. He’s got to be!

My life-long friends know me, or they think they know me; however, memories of the “me as a kid” sometimes affect their perception of the “me as a middle-aged man.” This applies to most of my siblings, as well. But that’s to be expected. They all love me, for who I was and who I am and who I will be. They will be with me all of my life.

My close friends are those who know me pretty well. They know I drink Coke (Zero) instead of coffee in the morning, am uber-annoyed at people who won’t “hang up and drive,” that I don’t eat broccoli, and that I abhor violence (or even play-acting violence on TV). They know when I’m feeling a bit down, and what to say to help me feel better. They let me help, and they help me. They’re “there” through thick, thin, and in between. We communicate regularly through a variety of methods, and have a good sense of what works to form that net to which I often refer — the net that supports someone throughout his life. These friends form the fabric of my “life net.”

Intimate friends, of which there are very few, not only have all the qualities of close friends, but also truly know my heart. They can read me and intuit how I feel. They know just what to say — or sometimes, what not to say. I am not referring to sexual intimacy, which is reserved only for my partner, but rather, I am referring to personal intimacy. These are the friends who I trust and allow into my personal space. Few get that close. Few ever will.

I was speaking on the phone with two of these intimate friends yesterday — AZ and my twin brother — and they each made me realize how incredibly rich I am. I have a partner who loves me, cares for me, and will do anything for me. I have a nice home. I have health insurance and am getting decent medical care. I have people who look after me and show me how they care — as I have tried to show them that I care about their well-being, too.

Further, though, AZ and J reminded me that while I feel down, frustrated, angry at being confined and hobbled, that I have talents that I can apply to get me out of these doldrums. Each in their own way urged me to engage my talents and concentrate on doing something during this period of confinement that I would not have had the time to do if I were engaged in my usual busy, active life. You know what? They’re right!

And what’s interesting to me is that both of them knew how I was feeling before I even told them. They just know me. They know my heart.

Luv ‘ya, guys… with all my heart.

Life is short: seize your talents. Your intimate, close friends want you to!

Best Unseen Surprise

Posted on by

I mentioned earlier that I had arranged for a guy dressed in full leather to come to our house on Sunday, which was Valentine’s Day, to present a gift of a dozen red roses, a red velvet cake, and a card to my partner.

We began our day with a long, cuddly snuggle. We just held one another, talked, and listened to hopes, dreams, desires, thoughts, and ideas.

We enjoyed a simple breakfast. I truly wish that I could have made my partner’s favourite breakfast of waffles and all the accompaniments, but I just could not do it as my broken leg was throbbing and not behaving.

After breakfast, we went into our family room, which is on the first level, near the front door. I was working on my computer (getting the Boot Wiki going) and hoping… hoping… hoping that the guy would come with the gifts.

At 1:00pm, we had a light lunch. Still nothing.

Then the doorbell rang, and I said what I had planned to say, “will you answer it, please?” My partner grunted at being annoyed that the doorbell rang and visitors were here, but he answered the door. I got up as quietly as I could, grabbed the camera, and made my way toward the door to see who was there. It wasn’t the leatherdude, though. I had four visitors (senior pals) who came over to see me. We talked for a while, then they left.

By then it was about 2:30, and I was wondering if the guy were going to come over. I sent my partner upstairs on a ruse and quickly called my friend who arranged it, and only got his voice mail. I left a message.

My partner said, “I recorded a movie that I think you would like on the Tivo in the basement on high-def. Let’s pop some corn and go watch it.” I said, “what if some other friends come over?” He said, “I’ll just answer the door.” I really didn’t have any other excuse I could use, and my partner wanted to see that movie with me. He had this romantic, far-away look in his eye.

I hobbled down the stairs, as I didn’t want to disappoint my partner. Also, I wanted to see a movie with him. I enjoy spending time with him like that. We settled down on our sofa, got the movie started, dimmed the lights, and held hands. Soon we were involved in the plot of the movie.

We decided to take an intermission about half-way through. I hobbled over to the basement bathroom. My partner said, “I’ll take the popcorn bowl to the kitchen and use the bathroom up there. I’ll be right back.”

He went upstairs, and I got “settled” in the bathroom. Well… I don’t need to explain what I was doing, but I heard the doorbell ring and my partner answer it. He began to laugh. I knew that this was it! And here I am on the toilet with my pants down. There was no way I could get dressed and up the stairs without help. So I missed it. Damn!

My partner came back to the basement a few minutes later with a big smile on his face, and a tear in his eye. He had put the flowers in a vase. He put them on the coffee table, and began to cut slices of the cake that was delivered.

He reached out, held my hand, gave me a kiss, and said, simply: thank you, Valentine!

… then he told me that our nebby neighbor across the street saw the whole thing. We laughed uproariously.

I wish I could have been on that level to see his surprise, and perhaps have taken some pictures. But what was most important is that my valentine enjoyed his surprise.

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

Wanna Wiki?

Posted on by

What’s a wiki, you ask? A wiki is is a website that allows the creation and editing of any number of interlinked web pages via a web browser. A wiki is essentially a database for creating, browsing, and searching through information. A defining characteristic of wiki technology is the ease with which pages can be created and updated. A single page in a “wiki” website is referred to as a “wiki page,” while the entire collection of pages, which are interconnected by hyperlinks, is “the wiki.”

One of the reasons why website interfaces like Facebook and blogs have become so popular is because they are interactive. They allow you to share information with others and leave comments. Rather than being static, providing one-way content as most “web 1.0” websites do, a wiki is part of that “web 2.0” world that allows two-way communication.

At the suggestion of a friend from Singapore, I have begun moving toward developing a “Boot Wiki.” It will provide for a medium to share information about boots beyond what I can do with my website.

It works best when people “join the Wiki team.” That way, various people can interact with it and share their collective knowledge and information. However, because the topic is narrow, and the development of this Boot Wiki is being led by a gay man, I am being careful with it. I am allowing others to register to join the Wiki Team if they ask me to join, and I know who they are. (I do not have to have met them in person, but I should have communicated with them, at least, via email.)

Would you like to be among the first to join my Boot Wiki team? If so, click here to sign up. Thanks for considering it. I think it will be fun!

Life is short: embrace new technology!


To My Valentine

Posted on by

Happy Valentine’s Day!

I will keep this short, only to say that my beloved Valentine will be surprised today when a special treat that I ordered just for him is presented by a leather-clad stud. A dozen red roses, a red velvet cake, and a card. ’twasn’t cheap, but well deserved. (Thanks, Dave!)

Meanwhile, I’m feeling a bit more human. Yesterday, I put on a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, with a real boot on my left foot. I ditched the sweats I had been wearing since I broke my right leg. Guido and I sat on the island in my kitchen and prepared cupcakes for my special valentine, my love, my hunk, my partner, my best half.

I made these cupcakes to throw my partner off the scent that something else might be delivered today. When the doorbell rings, I’ll say, “will you please answer the door since I can’t get up?” Ordinarily, my partner avoids answering the door and interacting with people, but since I broke my leg, he’s been pretty good about doing that. Since some family and elder buds have been dropping by to visit or bring (more) casseroles, he wouldn’t think twice about the doorbell ringing again. I just want to be there to see his face when the flower-bearing leatherhunk is standing there! LOL!

To the man I love with all my heart, soul, and every ounce of my being: HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!

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

Reasons to Smile!

Posted on by

My partner broke through the mounds of ice, snow, and … whatever … to get me to the orthopedic specialist yesterday. I have had a cast on my broken leg for almost three weeks. It was time for the doc to fish or cut bait!

Good news was that the bone in my leg had not displaced, so I could get a cast on it and I will not have to have surgery.

The bad news is that I still can’t put any weight on it so I cannot walk. Anywhere. I hobble with crutches to the bathroom and into our kitchen. But that’s it.

I don’t want to take any chances, so I am keeping it elevated and following doctor’s orders. I am a bit bummed that I can’t get around in the manner to which I am accustomed, but soon enough, I’ll be back in two boots, standing proudly, and doing what I usually do.

Meanwhile, a big broad smile remains firmly on my face, as I look at my beloved, wonderful partner who has done so much to care for me in so many ways, from helping me to bathe, to preparing meals, to accommodating my every need in every way, even if it causes him pain. He has broken us free from this mountain of snow, all with his muscles and focus on task.

I smile when I look into the faces of my brothers and sisters who have come to visit and help tend to my aunt, and some of my senior buds. I smile when I gaze into the faces of my nieces and nephews who are also pitching in. I smile when my twin brother and my best friend, AZ, call me every day to check on me. I smile when I read emails from Bama, Clay, Kevin, Brian, and some other friends, who keep me entertained and knowing that they care about me. I smiled HUGELY yesterday when a contingent of 14 elder buds dropped by … with more casseroles and nutless brownies! Woo-hoo! Bless ’em, bless ’em all. I smile because, deep down inside, I know I’m loved.

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