Friday, March 29, 2013

Been Here Before

First of all, fair warning this is a cryptic post.  No names are mentioned in order to protect the innocent (and guilty) and to avoid embarrassing anybody.

After the wonderful time at the Bloggerpalooza last week, I am experiencing a bit of a post traumatic stress syndrome   melancholy.  This always happens when I ramp myself up for a big event, especially when there a lot of folks involved.  I love people; love to be around them and love to meet new people.  To me the worst punishment in the world would be solitary confinement.  Having said that, I am a very shy person.  I am a severe  introvert. That guy you saw last week at the Bloggerpalooza?  Scared to death.  That's why almost all of my iPhone photos are blurred.  I could hardly hold the camera steady.  Well anyway, that's not the point of this posting.  I sometimes stray away.  Here's the point, I'm slipping into the old Black Dog again.  For several reasons.

Oh don't worry about me.  I'll come out of this.  I know how to do it, I've been here before.  But for the next few days I'll have to grapple with this damnable Black Dog. 

Me, Provincetown Sand Dunes - 1979

I'll explain now.

I think all of us at one time or another have an image in our mind of the perfect person that we would like to meet in life and spend the rest of our lives with.  Many of us are fortunate enough to meet that person and have a very happy life.  Some are not.  I am one of the fortunate ones because at a very young age I met a man who swept me off of my feet and for the past forty-eight years has treated me like a prince.  No one else has ever done that to me in my life.  I was not initially attracted to this man but I grew to love him and still do to this day.  I will never leave him, never.  He is the only man in this world who I can trust and I care for him deeply.  He would literally lay his life down for me.  And I would do the same for him. We are and always will be totally devoted to one another until our death.

Provincetown, Mass - where I used to vacation every summer - 1979

Having said this, that doesn't mean that I haven't met others in my life that....I'm searching for the right word here......loved.  Yes, several times in my life I have met that person who has caused me to think "what if?"  

Me, 1979 - Provincetown, Mass.

The last time this happened to me was over thirty years ago (1979).  I met this man in Provincetown during my summer vacation from my banking job in Philadelphia.  He was everything I could ever want or aspire to.  Good-looking (gorgeous), caring, smart, popular and he adored me as I did him. When I was with him I felt complete.  The lyrics to love songs now meant something.  The world was brighter, more colorful.  I was happy just to be with him.  There was some "bed time" but ironically, we didn't spend much time in bed other than sleeping together at night.  Our quality time was just being together.  When he found out that we weren't really sexually compatible (oh he still turned me on but let's say I'm not that sexually versatile and leave it at that) I felt bad.  He said "Don't worry about it, I would just like you to be with me this week." That sealed it.  I was under no sexual pressure.  He just wanted me to "be with him."  Even talking about this thrity-four years later sends a wonderful feeling of acceptance through my entire body.  He liked me, not for what I could do in bed but just for me.   And I was thrilled just to be with him.

Me, Provincetown Bay - 1979

He asked me to move in with him. I had already rented an apartment for the week.  Of course I left my apartment (no refund - didn't matter) and spent the week with him.  The only downside was that he had a friend and former lover who had traveled with him and wasn't exactly thrilled that I moved in with him.  He told me "Don't worry about it." I took his advice and his friend came to accept me as being the third person in their vacation hideaway.  

Me at Angle's Landing (the apartment I always rented) Provincetown, Mass - 1980

My new friend used to work in Provincetown for many years and had come back for one last visit.  He knew a lot of people and they were glad to see him.  When some of them asked who I was he would say "This is Ron, he's WITH me." He didn't say I was his lover (a term used back in the day) or anything else other than "This is Ron, he is with me."

Me, Provincetown, Mass. 1979

For the next week I was the silent partner who went with him everywhere.  To visit friends, going to the Tea Dance, laying on the beach or going out to dinner and of course sleeping together at night, no sexual acrobatics.  We just spent time together.  Oh there were kisses and when we went to dinner we would occasionally hold hands under the table or he would rest his hand on my thigh or I would do the same to him.  We were "together."  Of course I was almost always perpetually aroused (sorry my lady friends, no other way to describe it).  

Angel's Landing - where I always stayed when in Provincetown - 1979
All too soon vacation ended.  He asked if I could extend my vacation.  Without hesitating I told him I could.  I called my boss and told him I was taking a few more days off.  My boss wasn't too happy and I felt guilty because I he was expecting me back but I knew this was a once in a lifetime thing and I knew it would never happen again in my lifetime.  I knew it. 

Me - Happy - Provincetown, Mass - 1979

This wasn't about lust (although he was a major hottie)  but more of an emotional connection.  We just clicked together.  But he lived in California and I lived across the nation in Philadelphia.  We both knew a lasting relationship was not possible, we knew it.  When it came time to leave, we had our last meal (breakfast) at the Provincetown airport.  I got on the small commuter plane.  After I got myself seated I looked out the small window of the plane which was wet with rain and saw him standing there.  I knew that was the last time I would ever see him in my life.  He looked at me and gave a resigned half smile, knowing that we would part forever. I didn't want to believe that I would never see him again.  I had his address and promised that I would write to him but somehow deep within me I knew he would never answer.  

Me in Provincetown, Mass - 1979

As the plane turned to pull out of the airport he gave me a gentle wave and smiled.  I waved back to him and then lost sight of him as the plane began to take off for Boston.

Me at Provincetown Airport - 1980

Arriving in Boston I had a sickening feeling in my stomach.  Much like I do now.  After arriving home I wrote to him immediately.  And as expected I never heard from him again.  I tried to look up his telephone number but how many Nick Brown's (his name) are there in California?  A lot.  I lost him.

The next several months were perhaps the worst in my life.  They shouldn't of been because I returned home to my partner in life who I love dearly.  I knew in my heart that I was being foolish.  I tried to alleviate my pain by thinking of all those people who have a terminal illness.  I thought of those people who never experienced love.  I thought of those people who didn't have a loving partner.  I felt guilty, which made me feel even worse.  I had no right to feel sorry for myself and yet..........I just could not sustain an interest in anything because I was so consumed with "what could have been."

Me at Rehoboth Beach, DE - 2012

Of course I eventually came to my senses and got over my lost love.  I promised myself I would never let that happen to me again.  Over the years since then I've been pretty successful in my defenses for falling in love. I never forgot something that was told to me from an earlier incident when I felt myself falling in love with someone who I was involved with, he said he said "Don't go falling in love with me."  The way he said it indicated that that was something he encountered before in his life and he just was giving me fair warning.  He was quite willing to have an affair but no love.  Although it hurt at the time hearing that, him saying that was probably the best thing he could have done because believe me, that attitude pretty well put me into my place.  As I said, I never forgot what he told me but I can't even remember his name now or his face.  He was successful, he knew what he was doing when he said that.

Me at sunset on the Broadkill River and my life - 2012

So here I am now, trying not to slip any further into the deep recesses of melancholia.  I'm trying to sustain an interest in my usual activities but it is a struggle. Coming up I have some "activities" that I can't avoid. On April 5th I visit with my urologist and oncologist for my upcoming procedure on May 2nd.  Prior to that Bill and I will take our annual road vacation down south to visit my brother in Greenville, South Carolina, graves in the western North Carolina mountains, and Bill's former hometown of Toccoa, Georgia.  
I am pretty sure by then I will over my self induced sadness.  

Me on a mountain top somewhere in North Carolina - 1994

But until then I will go through this "thing" again.  That's what happens when I meet an angel.  

That's wind blowing my shirt - makes me look fat (little humor here in this depressing blog posting)

Note:  I don't have any pictures of my "1979 Love" - don't know why.  Just didn't think of it.  I've regretted it ever since but I still remember his dark brown eyes and gentle smile.  Nick Brown somewhere in California.  


Geo. said...

A very moving personal essay, Ron, which you've done a great service to your readers by writing. Thanks.

anne marie in philly said...

(nods head in silent agreement with this post)

Raybeard said...

Wide-ranging post, Ron. I know what you mean, having the post- Bloggerpalooza blues (though I don't mean to demean it by calling it that). It's very real to you - and your emotions would be entirely natural for everyone else as well.
I'm sure you mentioned it before but I had to stop when you called yourself a 'severe introvert' as that's EXACTLY how I see myself too. Your nervousness during last weekend chimes with me. I have a socio-phobia, meaning that when speaking to just one person, it's fine, no problem - but immediately a third comes on that scene I feel pushed out to the side. Further participants mean an exponentially increasing living nightmare for me in which I can't function. Does this sound familiar to you? I suspect it might.

Your talk of your '1979 love' is almost unbearably poignant and it would be arrogant to add or advise as, never having had a 'true' relationship myself, I can only accept your words as they are.

Please keep us posted on your upcoming visits re health issues. Your apprehension at both is perfectly understandable.

Btw: That 1979 pic of you in Provincetown Sand Dunes is particularly hot. If I'd come across that vision while out hiking myself I'd have been kicking myself forever afterwards if I'd not acted on my gut-felt attraction.

Buckeyein Richmond said...

What a beautiful story from a beautiful man. Thank you, Ron. You are truly a man I am proud to know.

Paul Forster said...

Thanks for sharing your story. It took me 54 years to meet that perfect person.

Ron said...


Fifty-four years is a long time to wait. You will have to tell your story someday. I am glad you're there now. Cherish every day.


Ron said...

Thank you Nate. I was hesitant about posting my story but I did it anyway. Writing about it is cathartic for me. We all have our "issues", and I sometimes feel guilty about moaning about mine because I've had such a good life but there it is, that old Black Dog keeps popping up at the most inopportune time threatening to take me down. I've had bad colds, been in the hospital for surgery, and now have cancer but nothing to me is more dangerous to my well being than that old Black Dog. Most times I can keep him at bay but's bad.

Thank you again for your kind and generous words.


nitewrit said...


Okay, understand... Well, May 4 I have a procedure. At least I escaped hospitalization on Thursday. You, me and that fellow down in Florida heading down the same highway now.


Ron said...


You understand completely. Yes, I am just fine one on one but when that third person comes in I immediately feel inadequate. I think that comes from my father telling me I was never good enough when I was growing up. Being constantly mocked and put down during those formative years does great damage to anyone. Your socio-phobia is probably what I have. I just try and plow through it, sometimes with success and sometimes not so much. Last weekend's crowd was a great bunch of people and everyone was very kind to me but I was still very nervous, and I don't know quite why.

I have been very fortunate in my life that I have had several loving relationships. All except one (the one I'm in now) ended very painfully and almost took me down. I saw that happen to a friend of mine and I vowed that I would never let that happen to me, in honor of her memory. She just wanted the pain to end. The Black Dog overtook her. I've outrun the Black Dog before and I think I can again. As I said in my posting, I've been here before and I know how to handle this. Keep busy, write about it, and put time in to ease the pain. Perhaps it will never go away completely but time does heal.

Hey, thanks for the wonderful compliment about my picture in the Provincetown Sand Dunes. Know what? I was never all that successful in the sexual Olympics in Provincetown. There were way too many really hot guys. First time I visited Provincetown I realized I would only be an observer which is what I was most of the time. I got lucky a few times but the one special time was when I spent the week with Nick Brown and ironically there was no sex which was very unusual because he was a major hottie and a lot of guys were after him. He just wanted me to "be with him" which I took as a great compliment. In fact, we didn't have sex once other than that failed attempt the first night he met me. He was just too big (if you know what I mean). I'm more of a romantic than what I call a sexual acrobat. Good memories, that week.

Always good to hear from you Ray. I won't be posting for about a week. I have to put some time in.


Ron said...


I tried to call you yesterday. I'll call you in a bit after I call Carbonite. I had to clean up my computer yesterday and Carbonite failed. Yes, we're both headed down that same highway - bodies failing and keeping the Black Dog at bay. My procedure is May 2nd. Hopefully, after our procedures we can begin enjoying life again. By then that Black Dog will recede into memory again (I hope).


Ron said...

I know you understand Anne Marie, I know.


Ron said...


Writing is my catharsis. If I didn't write about my "issues", I think I would go off the deep end. I have no choice. Someday I will go to sleep and all this will end. I do not fear that day, the only thing I fear is living with the pain.

Thank you for understanding. I think we've all been here at one time or another during our lifetime.


Bob said...

Lovely story, sad, and lovely.
We all have our "what ifs".
I met mine just before I met Carlos and, well, here I am with Carlos, a choice I have never regretted.
I tend to try and make any "what ifs" in my life become "THAT was, but THIS is."

Jon said...

This is such a wonderfully poignant and insightful post that it would be futile for me to try to add anything. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and can very strongly identify with your feelings. I would like to be as open and honest on my blog as you are on yours, but it would shock too many people (not you, I'm sure).

I've had the joy of being in love numerous times (and I've also experienced the agony of it).
I've also been fortunate to have had an absolutely perfect, once-in-a-lifetime love (in California) that lasted for several years. I could easily write a book about that glorious time. The love of my life died over a year ago........far too soon. The memories haunt me constantly.

Karen said...

Hi Ron,
First of all, I am a long time reader of your blog. I read UrSpo's, and Java's, and Sean Breen's, and occasionally check on others who were at your bloggerpalooza. I live just south of Philadelphia, PA. I'm a wife, mother, school librarian, and I love to read. I don't have my own blog for two reasons: I'd rather read than write, and I have too many private things that I might be tempted to share if I had a blog. So I don't.
You call yourself an introvert? I'm such an introvert I couldn't bring myself to come to your gathering, even tho I "know" you and the bloggers. Ack. I would have loved to meet all of you!
This post, about your lost friend, reminds me of my lost friend. Jerry was my first husband's best friend, and after we divorced, Jerry became a close friend. but he was in the Army, not ready tom ettle down, and I am just content to stay home. I've often wondered what could have been.....Our lives are full of "What Ifs", aren't they?
Thank you for sharing. Isn't it time to start planning. Next year's event?!? Fondly, Karen

Raybeard said...

Okay, Ron. Keep your chin up for the next week (at least).

If I added anything to your above comment of generous length it would spoil it. Let's leave it as it is - well apart from "We understand each other."

Ron said...


First, thank you for reading my blog. You and folks like you are the reason I write a blog. I find that if I express my thoughts in writing and knowing that some folks may identify with those feelings, I feel better able to handle every day life. Henry David Thoreau said "Most men live lives of quiet desperation and go to their graves with a song still within them." That thought has never left me all my life.

This past weekend triggered something within me that was long dormant. I can't say anything more about it other than I have that "What if" feeling again that I didn't want to face again in my lifetime.

I was touched to read about your "what if" moment with your friend Jerry. Believe me Karen, I know how you feel. It is a feeling of tremendous sadness and yet a feeling of guilt for feeling that way when we already have so much that others are not fortunate to have. But I can't get over the feeling that when I am with that one perfect person, I feel a total sense of completeness that I rarely have felt in my life. And the only way I can identify it is true love.

By the way, we're already planning next year's event. Come on down with Anne Marie. While Anne Marie's no introvert she is a delightful, fun person who would make you feel totally comfortable. And just for your information, there were quite a few introverts at the Bloggerpalooza last week. Everyone was wonderful and all had a good time. I don't know what it is about bloggers but that group last week was so friendly. I think my friend Wayne ("The Cajun" - On Transmigration) said it best: "Processing events of the weekend a few things struck me as deliciously unusual: No political talk, no bitchy gay guy chit-chat, (oh sure there was snappy patter, but all positive and in good fun.) no holding back answers to personal questions; only a desire to get to know some bright, wonderful, interesting, down-to-earth people with different lives, from different states, countries, backgrounds, and professions."

Please come to our event next year Karen. You will feel welcomed and you will have a good time. You don't have to be a blogger to come, we had blog readers come too. It is quite an experience to meet the bloggers you read all the time in person. As someone else said "It's like watching a TV show for years then you get a chance to actually meet the TV star. It's awesome!" And indeed it was.

My best to you Karen.


Ron said...


I also try not to think about "what if"s" but sometimes an event or a meeting triggers those long dormant memories. That is what happened this past weekend. I think you understand.


Ron said...

Thank you Jon. You truly are a sweet, gentle man. And I know you understand fully my meaning in this blog posting. Like you, I have been very fortunate to have experienced the joy of being in love several times. However, I had assumed that at this time of my life those days were over for me then lo and behold I meet someone and those feelings are reawakened again. I so do not want to go there again because I know that my wish is futile and almost impossible. I feel guilty for even feeling this way when so many others have a much tougher life that I have had. I've had a very good life but only on a few rare occasions have I felt totally "complete". I felt that way again last weekend, a feeling that I thought I would never experience again in my lifetime. The only thing I can compare that feeling to is the description of a near death experience when the deceased sees that light at the end of the tunnel, that all enveloping light that radiates love and acceptance. You said that the memories of your lost love haunt you constantly. You understand.

I am so happy that I can blog and share these thoughts with new found friends like you Jon in the blogasphere. At least we know we're not alone. That helps to ease the pain of knowing what could have been will never be.

Your friend,


Roger said...

Going to take a walk on whats going to be the only sunny day of this weekend here and ponder the post. As always well written and has triggerd a long put away thought in my mind.

Karen said...

Thanks, Ron. I would love to come down to Delaware!


anne marie in philly said...

BTW, there are some REALLY SEXAY pix in this blog post!

Anonymous said...

A very touching post, Ron. I can't really get the "introvert" part reconiled with your posts! You are so open and giving.

I've had a couple of "true loves" in my life, but nothing that lasted. I even found one of them a couple of years ago on Facebook, after a random meet up in bar in our hometown, complete with a hug from him that left me wanting to drag him off with me forever - but alas, like you, he had a partner of nearly 20 years now. But 32 years ago, it was so very real.

Memories are part of who we are. In a way, this is a happy post. If my chronology is correct, this is after you met Bill. You met someone, your heart went aflutter, and then he was gone. But not Bill.

My post-event melancholy was seeing everyone so happily partnered up. I keep hoping to find someone, but while not introverted, am so "out of practice" I don't even know how to try!

Peace <3

David Jeffreys said...

Ron, I think we all felt a sense of something missing after we left Lewes on Sunday -- I know I did. For me, the best part was being able to share it with Barry. We have a tendency to be a little introverted as well. But at no time did you seem to be introverted or nervous. You pulled the Blogger Palooza off like an experienced circus ringleader.

I know what you mean by "What Ifs." Yes, if I could go back and change the direction of my life at age 18 with one person, I would. That is not to say that I have not had a wonderful life as it turned out, because there are many special people in my life that resulted as I followed the "path taken."

If you are interested in reliving some of this past weekend, I have been posting some of my amateurish videos on my blog -- Lady Slipper Cove ( The last one which is very long (over 15 minutes) covers the Presentations that you made after dinner. It will appear tomorrow night.

I just hope that my health and strength holds up so that I can attend next year's event. Unfortunately, I fell Monday night after arriving home; but fortunately I landed easily and nothing broke or bruised. It did take me 30 minutes before I was able to get back on my feet due to the weakness in my legs.

BTW, I agree with some of the other commenters, that you were HOT, HOT, HOT in Provincetown!


Ron said...


I just came back from my walk which was much needed to clear things out in my mind. You put it so well, when you referred to "triggered a long put away thought in my mind." I hought I had buried that "what if"?" question a long time ago but an experience this past weekend triggered it again. And here I thought at my age, I was way past such danger. But no, there it was again. A "what if?" Still vulnerable after all these years.


Ron said...


Yes, I met someone after I was partnered up with Bill. Bill only went to Provincetown with me once an he hated it. Stayed in his hotel room all the time. He never had an problem with me going by myself. Our understanding from day one was that both of us were free to do or go as we please without any controlling jealousy. We don't and never have operated that way. A few years back Bill also met his true love. That guy want Bill to move in with him and his family of a wife and ten kids. I wouldn't hold Bill back because I love him enough to want him to live a happy life. Of course I would miss him terribly but I would never try to hold onto someone who wanted to go elsewhere and he feels the same about me. We have always had that understanding and I think that is the strength of our long term relationship. This is what works for us.

Oh yes, I am very introverted. If you ever have a chance to talk to Bill just ask him how I was when we first met. He always jokes about the fact that I was so shy I wouldn't even ask people for directions when we were in our car driving someplace new. Bill always had to ask. I've just forced myself over the years to be more outgoing and I am glad of it but still I cannot completely control my nervousness. That nervousness was especially visible when I tried to take photos with my iPhone. That's one reason I took so many videos.

I hope you find someone Jay. Everyone needs someone. Being lonely is not good. But you know, you can still be in a relationship but still be lonely. I won't go any further with that.

Just think, this time last week we were just beginning to have a wonderful weekend with a great bunch of new friends. We're planning on doing it again next year. Mark you calendar Jay!


Ron said...


I am so glad I got to meet you and Barry last week. Thank you for your kind and generous comments about my hosting duties. Believe me, it's all an act. :)

I think we all have some "What if's" in our lifetime. I've always felt like I was one of the fortunate few to have found Bill shortly after I came out. Actually he "found" me. He wasn't my "type" but he was such a gentleman and, as I said before, treated me like a prince, how could I go wrong and I didn't. However, over the years there have been those times I have met someone (more than once) that triggered the "What if?" question in my mind, thus bring up long buried memories to the forefront of my mind and awakening that sense of loss. As you noticed, Bill didn't attend the Bloggerpalooza with me. We have very little in common except we love each other. He doesn't socialize with my friends nor does he like to go out. He just likes to stay home. That's why I always went on vacation alone all those years, Bill didn't want to go. I always envied those couples who did things together. We didn't. But I still love him and would never leave him. Came close a couple of time but just couldn't pull that trigger. He needs me too much and I need him because I know that no one in the world would ever care for me the way he has the past 48 years. We all make settlements in our life. I think mine was pretty good.

Yes, thanks for reminding me to check your blog. I am interested in reading other posts about the event. I don't remember why I don't have your blog on my blog roll but I will put it there. Perhaps it has adult content and I took it off because relatives and co-workers read my blog and I didn't want to make them feel uncomfortable. I'll check your blog out.

I also hope you and Barry can attend next year's event. We're going to call it "March Madness." "Bloggerpalooza" is a long word to keep typing. :)

By the way, I just had another reminder today why we should make each day count. A good friend (since third grade) and fellow blogger just told me this morning on our daily FaceTime chat, that he has to have an emergency colonoscopy. He is the same age as I am. It's not looking good for him. And I don't know if you remember but I posted last week about my cousin Randy dying suddenly. Life is so fragile David, we have to make the most of every day we're here.

Last week at this time we were just beginning to meet our new friends face to face. What wonderful memories. I'm looking forward to next year already.

And thank you again for the "HOT HOT HOT" compliment. Know what? Didn't make a bit of difference when I was in Provincetown. There were so many good-looking guys up there with their friends that I didn't even make a ripple. I think part of the problem was that I traveled alone so many they thought I was a loser. Still, I had a good time and I did occasionally met some nice people. But believe me, it was no sexual marathon with me. Even with the "lost love." But I didn't need that, I was in heaven just to be with him for a week. I'm sure you understand.

Take care David and give my best to Barry,


Ron said...

You like those Anne Marie? You should see the nude one of me on the beach. Yes, I was nude on the beach. Only one time in my life. That was enough. Almost sunburned the nether regions!


Ron said...


You are absolutely invited! Keep reading my blog, details will probably be in the fall. I know you would like everyone and have a wonderful time. We did and I hope to do it again next year.


anne marie in philly said...

OUCHIE! just say NO to sunburned nether regions! never been naked on a beach before. someone might mistake me for a beached whale! :)

anne marie in philly said...

"While Anne Marie's no introvert she is a delightful, fun person who would make you feel totally comfortable." - HELL YEAH! :)

Ron said...

Anne Marie,

You are the LIFE OF THE PARTY! Next year, mark your calendar.


Java said...

Amazingly, or perhaps amusingly, so many of my favorite bloggers are introverts. But not Jay. :-) I consider myself an introvert under most circumstances, but I felt incredibly comfortable considering how many people were together in one place last weekend. You were fantastic! I didn't pick up on any nervousness at all.

You and Bill have a special relationship. I don't know if I could be in a relationship with those conditions, and I'm very happy for you and Bill that you guys make it work. I wish I'd met him last weekend.

This post tells an interesting story. I doubt any of us can avoid the "what if" situations in life. I have a few myself. Keep ahead of the black dog, Ron. As you say, you've got the experience to know how to walk this road.

Ur-spo said...

Indeed a lovely story - most folks have a 1979 person in their lives. We put them in a private part of our heart as a bittersweet memory. thank you for sharing it.

Ron said...

Well said. Thank you.


Ron said...


I'm looking at the black dog in my rear view mirror now Java. He is rapidly getting smaller as I move on. Just another "brush." I hope you're doing well now.

Maybe next year you can meet Bill. I doubt seriously if I can get him to come to the festivities but maybe we can arrange something else.

Give Superman a big hug for me!


anne marie in philly said...

bah, sassybear was the life of the party. I am but a bit player in this comedy called life.

anne marie in philly said...

the good spo has hit the jackpot with his comment. I have had two "1979"s in my life; both are deceased now. I'll say no more about them, but they both earned a secret spot in my heart.

Ron said...

Anne Marie,

That "secret spot in our heart", I think we all have one....or two. I'm not done yet. Still some life in the old boy here.


Ron said...

Anne Marie,

I didn't know Sassybear before. What a delightful guy! And by the way, aren't we all just bit players in this comedy called LIFE. Next time, Sassybear is going to play a much more prominent role in the festivities. I know talent when I see it.


anne marie in philly said...

so true - sassybear is EXCELLENCE bar none. plus he is just so LOVEABLE!

Mark in DE said...

Wow, what an unexpected but lovely post. I think you found a way to articulate what many people have felt but been unable to say. Thanks for sharing this part of your life with us.

Ron said...


My blog is my online therapy. Very cathartic and why I write a blog.