Bloggetory

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These are just some rambling remarks that add up to today’s bloggetory…

* Sunny, bright, warm days yet not being able to ride my Harley yet makes for a frustrated biker, itchin’ to get out! Livin’ with Mother Hubbard who holds me back is such a delight… (smile). He does love me.

* I am getting better each day after breaking my leg. The swelling of my right ankle continues, but is noticeably less. The ankle and foot flexes more, especially when I go swimming, and doesn’t hurt. Yea! I AM recovering!

* Swimming is helping not only with the ankle/leg recovery, but also with my weight. I have lost six pounds since the day the cast came off. These are “real” pounds, and not just “water weight” ounces. I’ll keep this exercise regimen going, and add brisk walking to it. I know I need the exercise. Walking and swimming both help me feel better. (I’ve never be the gym rat, so at least I have found some exercises that work for me and that I enjoy.)

* I mowed the lawn! Well, half of it anyway. It is amazing how something as simple as lawn-mowing can make someone happy! But it impressed upon me that I really am getting better. Soon enough, I’ll be able to tackle those hills (our side yards).

* I am sick and tired of wearing combat boots! Okay, they provide excellent support of my right leg and ankle, and because they lace up, the right boot can accommodate a little swelling and yet still close. I just don’t think that combat boots are good to wear all day (at work) and as I go about resuming my life. But … well … they ARE boots, and that’s what I wear!

* I still remember Rick, my riding buddy and community collaborator, who was killed by a cell-phone yapping SUV-driving yuppie seven years ago today. I truly regret that my state’s legislature remains spineless and will not pass a bill that restricts the use of hand-held wireless devices while operating a three-ton killing machine.

* Senior Safety Saturday is comin’ up fast! Woo-hoo! We’ve got a lot to tackle but we’re all ready for it! Can’t wait! Heck, I just might get myself out from behind the registration table and drill a hole or two to install a grab-bar, install a light or three… we’ll see.

* first of four county budget battle meetings have begun this week. Tonight will be my first “foray” back into my community role since I broke my leg. I am not testifying tonight … just observing … and gaining fodder for future conversations. But again, despite the tedious and tense nature of the content of the meeting, the fact is that I can go!

* I am enjoying the “little things” — accomplishments that were taken for granted before my leg broke. For example, I drove myself to pick up my aunt to bring her to our house for Easter dinner. I actually prepared Easter dinner myself, with no help! I went out to our forest and picked a bunch of flowers to decorate the table. I brought some more to a neighbor who is not feeling well. I was able to go fetch the newspaper from the drive. All these “little” things add up, and add much to my psyche-of-renewal.

Life is short: enjoy all of it, even the little things!

Wesco Disappointment

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The company that makes Wesco Boots has fairly recently come out with a variety of “new” colors and finishes of leather. In addition to traditional black, brown, and redwood, you can now order boots in “burlap” (tan), burgundy, and red, as well as with the roughout side of the hide facing outward.

Wow… how “interesting.” I have seen some guys display new Wesco boots in different colors and thought most of them looked nice. (Personally, I am not fond of red leather on Wesco boots, but that’s my opinion.)

For an ultimate last purchase of custom Wesco boots for my own collection, I worked with Mike to craft a truly unique pair of harness boots. Burgundy roughout leather foot and vamp, brown harness straps, and brown roughout shafts. I placed the order in January and began the countdown on the usual long wait to get them.

The boots arrived at my door last Thursday. I was rather surprised, because usually they send an email saying the boots were shipped, but this time they didn’t. Regardless, I was thrilled! There’s nothing like the feeling a Bootman has when he sees that big Wesco box on his doorstep!

I brought the box inside and eagerly opened it. The colors of the leather were fantastic. The 18″ height, buckskin leather lining, and thick Vibram 100R lug soles rendered quite a masculine & commanding appearance. Of course, the quality of construction was superb. But I could tell when I looked at my new boots that the shafts were narrow. Wesco has my custom sizing form on file, and for this particular pair, I had even specified the calf circumference to be one half inch wider than the measurements on my form. But they just didn’t look right.

I sat down and took off the boot I had on my left foot and tried to pull on the new left boot. Damn… waaaay too tight. No way could I pull it on. I didn’t try to pull harder. I knew that Wesco screwed up and the boots weren’t made right. Damn! I have to return the boots to be fixed and resized.

Look at the photo: the new boot is on the right, standing next to an older pair of brown Wesco harness boots on the left. You can tell simply at a glance that the calf circumference is much smaller than the older boot which was made to the same custom measurements that I had on file with Wesco.

I have heard some stories lately that Wesco has been messing up a lot of custom orders. Unfortunately, I found that out for myself. The boots have been returned. I hope they get it right this time. (I resent that the guy from Wesco told Mike in an email that he thinks my measurements have changed and they didn’t make a mistake. He will find out that they were made wrong the minute he looks at the boots. I know my boots and do not register this complaint lightly, nor am I trying to get Wesco to resize my boots for free due to my own error in judgment.)

I’m not too upset about this situation, though. Because my right leg is still healing and my ankle still swells a lot, I cannot wear those new boots on both feet right now if I wanted to. I can’t wear tall boots yet. The doc says that the ankle swelling will remain a part of my life for several months. By the time the swelling resolves, it will be typical Washington hot-as-blazes summer. That’s not a time that I can wear tall, leather-lined Wesco boots.

For now, the delay caused by having to have the boots returned, fixed, and sent back to me is okay. As I have said before, I am a very patient man. I wish the situation were different in that my right ankle was normal and the boots were sized correctly in the first place, but that ain’t the case. I’ll wait. Sometime months from now, I’ll feature those new boots here and on my website.

Good things come to those who wait… and wait… and wait. But what a horrible April Fools prank. It was no joke!

Life is short: wear your boots!

Hoppy Easter

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The memory card in my camera sizzled, so none of the photos that were taken with it yesterday were readable by my computer. Here is one photo that shows yesterday’s get-up. The photo was taken by the daughter of some of my friends. I’m the one in the middle. Enjoy! Happy Easter!

Why Not Be A Passenger?

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I was conversing with a close [straight] friend who lives in a distant state the other day, saying that I was longing to get back on the saddle of a motorcycle. I am unhappy because the weather is gorgeous and yet my Harley remains in the garage, unused, because my doc says I can’t ride yet until my leg heals some more after I broke it in January.

My friend asked, “why not ride as a passenger?”

It was a simple-enough question. If I can’t put my feet down and man-handle a big motorcycle, I could, at least, ride as a passenger, right?

Well… no, I don’t think so.

My partner does not know how to ride a motorcycle, so he couldn’t take me. My very close biker buddy friend who wouldn’t bat an eye taking me as his passenger was killed six years ago by a cell phone yapping SUV-driving yuppie. And, unfortunately, I do not have any other friends to whom I am close enough and who can ride a motorcycle to ask.

Sure, I belong to a motorcycle riding club and often ride with them on group rides. Unfortunately, I observe that most of these guys, if not all, are wary of me. I am the only “fully out” gay guy among them. (I figure if statistics are accurate, there are other gay men in the club, but if there are, they live completely in the closet.) The club members are friendly enough, but keep their distance socially. I think they’re afraid of “gay by association” if they get too close.

I have to admit, I keep my distance, too, mostly because I’m not the social animal that other, younger, single guys are. And the guys who aren’t single and who are sociable always bring their wives to social occasions (many of whom are riders themselves.) My partner is so anti-social that he rarely comes to me to any biker-related social events, so it is easy to perceive that I am not all that sociable. And, as I have said before, I don’t like to stay up late and drink beer. Thus, I avoid most biker social events because the hours and activities are incompatible with my preferences. I can understand, then, why there are distances in our relationships, and the distances aren’t all related to the fact that I am a gay man.

Regardless, when my friend asked me simply about whether I could ride as someone’s passenger, I thought, “nope, ain’t gonna happen.” I really don’t know anyone (or think I know anyone) who is man enough, secure enough, and courageous enough to take me as his passenger.

I also have to admit that being a motorcycle operator for some 33 years, it would be darned hard to be a passenger. I think I would naturally try to drive, or to put my foot down, to lean, or otherwise make things unintentionally difficult for the operator.

I commended my (straight) friend for being such an open-minded guy. He is not naive, but since he is not gay, he does not have much of an idea of what I live with. Homophobia comes in a variety of forms. Most of it is not overt. But it shows, for example, as people consider how close to get to me — or how not.

Life is short: dream of the day when things like this don’t matter.

Hobbling Hoppy Easter!

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Today I have modified my plans. Usually on the Saturday before Easter, I put small packages of Easter treats (sugar-free Peeps, jelly beans, and chocolate eggs) into my Harley’s TourPak, then while dressed in a full bunny costume, ride around the senior’s community near me and deliver one of these packages to special senior pals. This has become somewhat of a holiday tradition, and even was featured in The Washington Post a few years ago. It’s a hoot! It brightens the spirits of my friends and is so much fun to do.

Well, unfortunately, I can’t ride my beloved Harley yet. My doctor told me not to think about riding until at least mid-April. At first I argued, but now I realize that he was right. My leg still hurts a lot and the ankle is still swollen. But it WILL get better! I just have to give it some more time.

But this darned leg isn’t going to stop me from brightening the day of my senior pals or stop me from my tradition! I’m just changing it a little bit. My partner ordinarily goes to visit his Mom for Easter, but because he is still worried about me, is staying home this year. He will drive me in my truck. I can and will wear that bunny costume! I will become the “hobbling hoppy Easter bunny!”

Watch out! There’s a cwazy wabbit wunning awound wilver wing! Bwa ha ha!

Woo-hoo! Life is short: show those you love that you love them! Happy Easter, Pasqua, or whatever!

You’re Too Damn Happy

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I received an email the other day from someone who said this: “You’re Too Damn Happy.” He went on to say, “all this stuff about your partner and how all these old people took care of you. Bullshit.”

And that’s all he said.

Hey, fella, the reason why I didn’t reply to your rant via email is that there really isn’t anything I could say. It is obvious to me that you’re hurting. I truly am sorry about your plight and mental state that drove you to write to me and say what you said.

Is my life perfect? No. I’ve got a lot of things going on that I choose not to blog about. Seriously, people don’t want to read about the bad stuff. I have read blogs by others who have complained about life serving them lemons, and usually it comes across badly. It sounds like whining and ranting, which nobody wants to read. There are a few exceptional people who can make a rant sound funny. I mean belly-laugh funny. Unfortunately, I don’t have the skills to write humorously. So I usually choose not to rant, whine, or whimper about things that suck. (Though I might have sounded a bit whiney as I was dealing with my broken leg.)

There is so much tension in the world, lately driven by tea-bagging morons, but before that, driven by the economy, politics, or other matters — it would be easy to get sucked into an uncivil demeanor and to wallow in negativity.

I deliberately choose the opposite. Perhaps it comes from my upbringing, when my parents taught us to look ahead and to look forward. Perhaps it comes from being secure and self-confident. Yeah, some bad things are goin’ on in my world, but I can handle it. I can, because — yep, here I go again — of that ‘net that I have supporting me. Heck, even from Australia, my friend Sue commented the other day about the sunny outlook that I have, and that I have inspired her to smile as she walks along the beaches of the sunny coasts of Australia, a place that I have truly enjoyed visiting.

You see, we’re all in this world together. The physical world in my home and community, and the larger world of people with whom we engage via the ‘net. Through the power of positive outreach and support, I firmly believe that we can make the world a better place — one step at a time.

‘K, I’ll take it: I’m too “damn happy.” Heck, I’d rather be “damn happy” than “sucky sad.” Smile and get a life, buddy.

Life is short: smile. Make them wonder why.

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I’ve Got Products!

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How do you like my new Spring image? I was tired of the gray hair, so I had my stylist use a male hair coloring product to return my hair to its original medium blond shade. I thought the hair gel product was just the thing to use, too. Doesn’t my hair look great all spiky? The light fuzz on my face is by design — so many men these days do a light shave, but let facial hair in a full beard show. Not a big fuzzy one, but a light beard — it’s, well, so sheik. I’m sure all the guys will notice my new look.

While I was laid up with a broken leg, I began to study men’s style websites and magazines. Man, those style guys sure know how to put it all together, from the new Spring suits, dress shirts, colorful ties, and even pocket squares to add just the right touch. Everybody I follow on Twitter is all abuzz about this year’s new men’s styles. I can’t wait to try on a new pair of dress oxfords that I got at Neiman Marcus. Man, they were a “steal” at only $495. Hmmm, I should consider getting another pair in brown and alternate wearing them.

While I was at NM, I had a long talk with the guy at the men’s “product’s” counter. This term became popular when the show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was on television a few years ago. I am amazed, there are so many from which to choose! Hair gel, mousse, facial wash, body splash, and lots of fragrances, too. And oh! This really neat book on how to groom my new beard!

Okay, I can’t stand it any longer: APRIL FOOL!

You wouldn’t honestly believe that I, Booted Harleydude, the quintessential masculine gay man into boots, leather, mud, and motorcycles, would fall for this stuff, would you? Sheesh… gag me, will ‘ya?

Don’t get me wrong: a full beard looks great on some men. Being partially Native American, I can’t grow one. However, these “light fuzz” beards that require hours of daily grooming are a bit beyond me.

I hope, though, since I parodied all this crap that I won’t have to turn in my gay badge. Oops, where did I put that thing, after all?

Bootprints of Our Journey

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My wonderful partner,

A buddy sent me an email message recently, commenting on your walking with me on my first day returning to work after being confined at home with a broken leg.  You rode with me on the Metro into the city and walked with me to my office. My buddy said, “Love walks with you.”

I smiled when I read that. It caused me to think about my relationship with you. You have walked by my side now for 17 years. You aren’t out front, you’re not behind. You are right by my side. You are my teammate on my life journey.

I look a bit more introspectively at my relationship with you, and your relationship with me. It has taken us a while to achieve this level of understanding. There are certain tasks at which I am better suited to complete, and other tasks that you do better. That’s normal and understandable.

But it’s more than that. When it comes down to the tough issues, requiring hard work and “hard thought,” we do it together. We ask questions, and talk it through. We make a plan of action, and follow it. We reconsider our plan if it isn’t working and redouble our efforts to achieve our goals.

I think this is descriptive of what makes a good relationship: we respect each other and engage the other’s natural talents. Further, we talk it through. We identify what components of a task are daunting, and how we can resolve them, whether we do it ourselves or if we have to hire a professional. It’s a joint decision.

I guess that summarizes a lot about our relationship: “it’s a joint decision.” Often as I am pondering a question, I find myself thinking, “what would you think about?” or “what would you say?” or “what are the questions that I want to ask you?” You are always in my mind, and I benefit so much from your intelligence.

There are lots of stories and fables over time about how couples walk side-by-side on their life’s journey. The poem by Mary Stevenson about the man who was angry with God because there were only one set of footprints in the sand at the low points of his life’s journey, and he thought God had abandoned him. God replied, “that’s when I was carrying you.”

This parallels my last couple of months. If you look at the figurative bootprints of our life journey, you’ll see only one set of bootprints during the past couple months. That is when you were carrying me.

I won’t quote clichés. Instead, I reflect on my lifemate, my partner, my best friend, my soul, and say, “love, walk with me.” You smile, take my hand in yours, and say, “let’s go, it’s our journey.”

I am so humbly appreciative of you. But you know what, if we’re going this strong after 17 years, I think we’re on to something (smile.)

I love you. Today, always, and together as we make bootprints on our life’s journey.

Me 🙂

Easing Into Leather

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My recovery from the broken leg is going very well now. I am walking with a more steady gait, and not limping (much…). I can wear two normal boots with relatively flat soles. I have been getting a lot of exercise by swimming and walking. That helps me regain the range of motion in my ankle, as well as helps control weight… though it’s coming off in ounces and not by the pound. (I expected that. All good things take time.)

During the eight weeks that I was housebound and had a splint or cast on my leg, I couldn’t wear a pair of leather jeans if I wanted to. I probably could have put on a pair of chaps, but I wasn’t interested. It was a chore just to get situated into my easy-chair during the day and back to bed at night, so attempting to get leather gear out of the closet and put it on was too much to think about. Plus, my partner was much more concerned about me and my recovery to think about getting me any leather to wear.

Even though the cast has been off for more than a week, my right ankle is still swollen. By the end of the day, it is rather large. I have to elevate it and put ice on it. So again, at least for the past cast-less week, I have not considered wearing any leather. I guess another reason that I haven’t thought much about wearing leather is that I am prohibited from riding my Harley, so I don’t need to put on protective clothing.

However, as I am regaining my strength and stability, and while it is still cool outdoors, I am also regaining interest in wearing leather again. Let’s say that I am “easing into it.” I have worn a leather shirt around the house when I get home from work. I’ll probably put on a pair of leather jeans soon to see how they fit. I will not, however, be able to wear leather breeches that zip closed around the lower ankle to fit inside tall patrol boots. The ankle swelling situation has to go away before I can even “think” of wearing leather breeches or patrol boots again. Perhaps by autumn… but not now, and probably not during the summer, either.

All good things come to those who wait. I am a patient man.

Life is short: think forward!

Linear or Divergent Thinker?

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I love my partner; however, what I am about to describe is one of his attributes that drives me most crazy, and my alternate approach is nerve-wracking to him.

That is, my partner is a linear thinker. One thing at a time. Do what’s on your mind when you think of it. Get the job done, then move on to the next in sequence.

Me? I am a divergent thinker. I often think of the “big picture” and organize my tasks logically, but not necessarily sequentially.

This is how we are different: my partner will be setting the table for dinner. He will notice that the napkin holder is low, so he will go to the cupboard to get more. He will notice that the supply of napkins in the kitchen cupboard is low, so he will immediately go into the basement where we store a larger supply to get more.

Okay, that all makes sense. But he should finish setting the table first, rather than carry the forks and knives in his hands as he makes these treks around the kitchen and basement (this would be funny if it weren’t true!)

For me? Well, here’s an example of what I do that is similar in task accomplishment, but from a different style of organization. When I am preparing a meal, I will pull out all the ingredients that are needed to make it and put them on the kitchen island. I will begin making my creation. As I go along, I realize that I have used up two or three items. But that’s okay, I know there are more in the basement pantry. I “make a mental note of it” while I finish preparing the meal. While the meal is cooking, I will then go get the items that need to be replenished.

Trouble is, that works fine most of the time, but being the absent-minded type, there are often times when I forget to go get the stuff we need, and remember it later. My partner and I will be seated in our basement watching TV, and I’ll remember, “oh, yeah, right… I need this-n-that.” I will get it out of the basement pantry and put it on the steps, so I will see it and remember to bring it up when we finish watching TV and go up to bed.

My partner, on the other hand, will harrumph and sigh, and just bring the items up right then, leaving the TV show running and missing part of it.

My partner’s way of doing things “when seen, right now” causes me consternation. For example, when my leg was broken and I was seated at the kitchen table, he would bring me my plate, but leave my glass of milk on the counter while he went and filled the napkin holder, put an extra knife away, put a pan in the sink and washed it, then brought me my milk and sat down himself to eat. There were times when the food would get cold while he was doing all these tasks so exactly and so sequentially.

Who’s right? Which way is best? Well, in almost 17 years, neither of us believes that the other’s approach is correct. However, we manage and deal with our quirks and idiosyncrasies, even though my way is better. I love him, always. (smile.)

Life is short: how do you think?