Retired in Delaware

"You Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine"

2012-02-03T10:55:00.003-05:00

Where I lived in the Fifties - 120 Washington Avenue, Downingtown, PA. Our family lived on the second floor. Chubby's family lived on the ground floor to the rightThe Mack House was behind the green hedges across the street from the apartment building.The crawl space beneath that house is the Scene of the Crime, the first time Ron Checked Someone Out (male version)

What red-blooded young man has NOT said THAT phrase? My time came when I was about nine years old. I lived in Downingtown, Pennsylvania on the second floor of a large apartment house in the low rent side of town. My boyhood friend at that time was Dayton "Chubby" Shores. "Chubby" was a year younger than me and wasn't Chubby at all. I think he got the nickname from the time he was a baby.

The Tipton Family at our "front yard" at 120 Washington Avenue, Downingtown, PA 1950

For about five years form 1947 to 1952 I lived at that apartment building on 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown with my two younger brothers. I was the oldest and didn't hang around with my two younger brothers who were each a year younger than me. My BF was Chubby.

This was the Washington Avenue Gang.
From left to right Billy Smith, Pee Wee Mack, Me, Chubby and my brother Isaac (with the baseball glove) Me Pee Wee and Chubby are holding grasshoppers we caught (don't ask)

Chubby lived on the first floor of the apartment building with his grandparents Toby Christie and his wife (whose name I forget) and their mixed breed dog "Queenie." Chubby's mom was named Virginia. There was always a mystery around Chubby's mother because it was whispered she spent time at the local mental institution called Embreville. Back in the Fifties in our part of the world, anyone who spent time in "Embreville" was considered nuts. So no one talked much about Virginia. Looking back on it now I assumed Virginia had Chubby out of wedlock. So secretive back in those days.

My Mom and Dad and me (running up the steps) to our apartment

Back to the original intent of this posting since I've tantalized all of you with my subject line of "You Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine."

Chubby and I used to play together everyday. I would come running down the stairs from my family's second floor apartment to meet Chubby each morning and we would be off for our Adventure of the Day. Now, let me make this perfectly clear. Although Chubby was a cute kid I had absolutely no sexual interest in him. At age nine my hormones were still inactive (or not there yet). Chubby and I were just two typical kids in the poor part of town enjoying our childhood. I don't remember all exactly what we did with our "adventures" but it was always innocent and fun. We always found something to do whether it was playing down by the railroad tracks jumping off the train platform, or taking a bicycle ride to Parts Unknown. Perhaps the most fun was playing with our other friends from the neighborhood like Johnny Jonson and Pee Wee Mack. Sometimes I permitted my younger brothers to join us but mostly not. John and Isaac (my two brothers) had their own group of Little Friends and they were off to their own adventures, usually not as innocent as me and Chubby's adventures.

Me (holding a grasshopper again), my brother John (to my left), my brother Isaac (in front) and a couple of other Little Buddies Johnny Johnson and Patty Robinson (I have a "Patty Robinson Story" too) and a little girl in the back who I don't remember - there were a LOT OF KIDS in our neighborhood - always a Changing Cast of Characters

Well folks, there came a day (and I don't know what prompted it) that Chubby and I played the "You Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine" game. I don't remember who suggested it but it was probable me. I was usually the leader in any group activity (as I am now and always have been most of my life).

We knew that the YSMYAISYM was verboten so we had to find a Secret Place. That Secret Place was the crawl space underneath Pee Wee Mack's house, which was right across the street from our apartment building. Pee Wee and his extended family lived in an old rental house. There were so many Macks that I lost count. Now I know that they were Gypsies but at that time I didn't know the term. All I knew that there were a LOT OF MACKS.

My brother John on Washington Avenue in front of our apartment Building - one of the few pictures I have of Washington Avenue, Downingtown, PA in the Fifties - his bicycle is off to the right

So on this one warm, humid July day about 1950 Chubby and I crouched down and crawled through the little ground door to the crawl space. Crawling on our elbows and knees on the dirt floor, we entered the cool darkness of the underbelly of the Mack house. The early morning light streaked through the little opening we crawled into.

We straightened ourselves upright, our heads almost touching the cobweb laced floor boards above us in the crawl space. We were both sitting Bhudda-like facing each other. Chubby decided to go first. He unbuttoned his pants (this was the Fifties after all, I don't think zippers were invented yet). He pulled out what looked like a little worm with a point on the end. "Ewww" I thought. What was THAT? I had never seen an uncircumcised penis before. It didn't look good to me. Again, no sexual feeling here, just a curiosity as to what HIS looked like.

Then it was my turn. By the way, neither one of us was nervous. This was all very matter of fact. Unlike many years later when as an adult I played the game of YSMYAISYM with much more focused interest but that's a subject for another blog (actually, SEVERAL blogs). So I pull mine out and Chubby takes a gander. He leans over for a closer look and says "I've seen one of those before." He said I was "cut." I didn't know what that meant. At that age I hadn't seen a lot of penises (which we didn't call "penises" in that day. I think we called them "peters." How quaint. Actually the only "peters" I saw were my brothers' and my father and there was nothing unusual with my brothers (looked just like mine) except my father,his was HUGE. "Pop" walked around the apartment a lot in the heat of the summer in his saggy jockey type underwear, the sight of which was quite intimidating I must admit.

I didn't understand what "cut" meant. Chubby explained that it was something the doctor did when I was born. He said not every doctor does it but some do. I had no idea why doctors did it either.

So we buttoned ourselves up and crawled out of the dark and cool and cobwebbed filled (and dead bugs too) space that was the under space of the Mack House, our curiosity satisfied. We were off for our Adventure of the Day. We never did it again nor spoke of it. Not out of shame or anything but just because it was a Big Nothing We were curious and our curiosity was satisfied. However, in the back of my mind there rested the question "Why does the doctor sometimes cut and not at other times?" I never really found out in all the years since that warm, humid summer day in the early Fifties when my buddy Chubby and I played the "You Show Me Yours and I'll Show You Mine" game.

Quiet

2012-02-02T07:59:00.005-05:00

First tulips of the season, from the lobby of the hotel where I work - photo taken last night

It is early this morning as I sit in front of my iMac computer composing my daily blog. The rain is gently falling outside and the skies are gray. The temperature is a mild 50 degrees. It is quiet.

Later this morning at 10 o'clock I am expecting a call from Carbonite, the offsite backup folks. My backup has been stuck for months. I've been on the phone with them three times already, being bumped up to a different tier level after the current tech person couldn't find out why my backup is stuck. I will be at tier one this morning. Pray for me.

I go to work this afternoon at the hotel. I worked last night. This is the off season at the hotel but business is picking up because of the mild weather. The phones were ringing off the hook last night. I was a Multi-task Master last night as I checked in guests, answered the front desk phone to take a reservation and putting the back desk phone on hold while I juggled guests waiting for extra wash cloths and restaurant recommendation. I hardly had time to do personal things last night. What is this world coming to?

This morning all is quiet here in Casa Tipton-Kelly. Years ago, when I was a young whipper-snapper full of vim and vigor and anticipation of What Life Was To Bring To Ron, I always had music blasting throughout the house. In fact, when I had this house built, I had speakers installed in the ceilings throughout the house. Guess what? I never use them. The only time I use them was when I had company over for dinner and that was probably only to impress them (they weren't impressed).

These days this Old Tired Horse likes Quiet, the Quiet Before the Storm. This must be yet another sign of Ron Getting Old. Tell me about it. I now have a collection of prescription medicines that I have to take daily to keep this old boy running. I wear industrial strength support socks to keep my lower legs and ankles from swelling. I have strange things pop out on me, like my new friend The Wart on my left temple. I HAVE TO GET THAT REMOVED. I keep touching the darn thing, making sure it's still there. Much like one keeps tonguing the jagged hole in your teeth where a filling fell out. I can't wait until I see my dermatologist in two weeks from today to get this removed. I know everyone is looking at it and thinking "WHAT IS THAT?"

So while I try not to have an anxiety attack over this Uninvited Wart, I will try to relax by posting my recently taken cemetery photos (from two days ago at the Union Cemetery in Georgetown) to my Find a Grave account while I await my phone call from Carbonite at 10:00 am. After that frustration (I doubt that even the Tier 1 guy at Carbonite will be able to help me, all they do is uninstall and reinstall the software and I get the same result, my backup is stuck), I will enjoy the Quiet.

Visit To My Barber

2012-02-01T09:36:00.001-05:00

My haircut this morning

Just got back from getting a haircut this morning. I like my hair short. The last time I got a haircut I wasn't paying attention when my barber put his mirror in front of my puss and asked me "How do you like it?" I said "Okay" without even looking. BIG MISTAKE.

When I got home and took a shower (I always take a shower after I get a haircut to get all the loose hairs off the back of my neck) that I realized he left the left side of my head with longer hair than the right side.

Some years ago (more than I care to remember) I used to have a LOT OF HAIR. However, as the years progressed and my hairline receded (thanks Pop!), I went for the "buzz cut" look. No more pompadour for Ron. Remember those hairdo's of the Fifties? Well, my hairline done went and gone and I had no choice.

Me and my longtime Philadelphia barber Nino - 1994

I don't like to fuss a lot with my hair anyway. I prefer not to use a comb. I like to get up in the morning with my hair looking the same as it did before I went to bed. With that extra hair I had on the right side of my head the last two weeks, I was walking around with a prominent cowlick sticking out horizontally from the right side of my head. I would like to think that I'm not vain, but alas I am.

Joe, my Downingtown barber - 2001

So it was with some delight this morning when my barber greeted me with "How are you doing handsome!"

BIG SMILE TO RON'S FACE. That greeting always works for me. Hey, I'll take my compliments whenever and wherever I can get them these days. Especially at my age. There used to be a time that such a compliment was given freely. Not so much anymore, especially down here in Gayberry, where age has exiled me to the Old Gay Guys Club.

After Dino (my barber) as finished cutting my hair he put his mirror back in front of my puss and asked again "How's it look?" It was perfect! Then he said "How old are you Ron?" I told him "70." Bless his heart he said "What?!? I don't believe it! Oh let me tell you I SOAKED THIS UP.

The last week or so I've been down because of some personal items plus an ugly wart that decided to appear on my left forehead (it's going off later this month when I visit the dermatologist).

The next guy up for the haircut looked at me and said "I'm 69, you must have good genes." That I do. He said "You don't even have white hair." Again, good genes. My father and his ten brothers, none had white hair. I have some gray hair, that is from my maternal grandfather who had steel gray hair. My barber also added "His hair is still wiry."

Nice to have something nice said to me. Nice way to start out a day.

Dino, my present barber (with the other barber in his shop)

Volunteering Part Two

2012-01-31T21:13:00.001-05:00

My friend Judy who volunteers to train guide dogs for blind

Hey folks, have to make something very clear. In my previous post called "Volunteering" I was not criticizing volunteering or the work they do. I have friends who volunteer and do much good both for themselves and the beneficiaries of their volunteerism. One of my good friends volunteers to train guide dogs. That is a wonderful thing she does. I so admire her for the selfless work she does to help train guide dogs for the blind. The dogs live in her home while they are puppies to acclimate them to living with people and to see if they have the right personality to be a guide dog.

There are many other selfless acts of volunteerism and in no way do I denigrate this fine work. What my blog was about, and could have been worded better, was that I resent someone volunteering my time or feeling the need to suggest to me the way I should use my time now that I'm retired. Again, we're getting back to my Character Flaw (which I wrote a blog about which resulted in a former friend dismissing me from his Friendship because he took offense that I complained about him wasting my time - never mentioned his name by the way).

No, I prefer to run my own life. The volunteer work I was suggested for was working in two different thrift stores, one as a manager. I just don't have the time nor the inclination for it. My extra time, what I have of it, is for my part-time job and my other interests. I highly resent some others deciding what I should do with my time. Again, this is probably one of my Character Flaws that I am just so easy going.

A couple of years ago I made friends with another gay couple who moved into the neighborhood. I actually went up to their door and knocked on it and introduced myself when the door opened. For a few months the friendship developed with dinners at each other's houses and a few trips the restaurant. It took that long before I realized (Bill saw it before I did) that we were looked upon as an opportunity by the other couple. I don't mind helping out friends (Bill mowed their grass three times, wired up their living room, and other things) but when we were asked to watch their dogs while they went on a three week trip to Florida, that was too much. It was awkward but I turned them down. They said it was alright but the request for favors kept coming. One in particular was asking me to print out all their wedding invitations. I did. The one guy changed his mind on the wording and they asked me to print them again, all fifty! No offer was ever made to pay for a new toner cartridge nor paper.

Finally, one time when they were over for dinner and we were all having a chat after dinner I asked the Head Guy, "Do you think I'm gullible?"' He looked at me and a smile crossed his face and he nodded his head slowly in the affirmative. That did it it. I told him "You have misread me. I may seem like a pushover and gullible but I'm not. " That was the night the friendship ended. We were being used. Somewhere along the line of our friendship he (they) had ceased to respect us (if they ever did) and only saw us as another "opportunity". That's a friendship I don't need.

Perhaps my character flaw is that I let these things go on too long. I am by nature an optimistic person. I want to believe the best in everyone. That's just the way I think (or "roll" that is the term in vogue these days). However, every now and then the evidence is just so overwhelming that there is a basic lack of respect that I can't ignore it. Another way of putting it: "The worm turns."

So back to my posting on volunteering. I think volunteering is fine. I just object when someone volunteers me for something that they think in their judgement I should do. Won't work. Let them volunteer their time.

Secondly, I am reminded every day just how hard it is to find and keep new friends. It seems as if most my really good friends, those people who accept me as I am (warts and all and now I have a real wart on my left forehead), are from years back. I'm glad I got them and I'm glad for any new friends that I've made.

I still remain an optimist.

Ron's Tidbits of the Week

2012-01-31T17:26:00.003-05:00

Bunny rabbit in Union Cemetery this afternoon - "I see you!"

I thought retirement was all about lolling about the house, watching TV, snacking, eating out and generally vegetating. Ah yes, that may be retirement for some but not for Busy Ron.

One thing I used to kid my Mother about after she retired was that her life in retirement seemed to rotate around a series of doctor's appointments. Well folks, be careful who you tease. Now that I am in retirement my life is also rotating around a series of doctors' appointments. This past Monday I had my annual eye exam. I came through fine, just a minor adjustment on one eye. As you can see I have an adorable eye doctor (just my type). The only downside is that I see him once a year. He said I have the beginnings of cataracts but I have "a long way to go." That's good news! So I asked him if I could take his picture for my iPhone. He wasn't quite sure but I took it anyway before he had a chance to change his mind.

My cute eye doctor - I got lucky (for once)

Next month I have an appointment with a new dermatologist. My regular dermatology visits are with the VAMC in Wilmington. I go every six months. My last one was in December. I had several spots removed from my face. My next appointment isn't until June. In the meantime I have a wart (of all things) that popped up on my left forehead. Thank goodness it didn't pop up on the end of my nose or else I could keep it and go out this Halloween as a witch.

As I reported before in this venue, I had another blood test last month. That one showed my PSA count down to 5.1 from a high of 8.4 last June. It's a good thing I didn't jump into the downward spiral of prostate cancer treatments because it looks like my PSA count is going down on its own.

And of course the last two Tuesdays in a row I had dental appointments. Again as I reported in this venue those two visits set me back over $1,000. Maybe I'll get some of that back from my dental insurance but probably not much. They've been pretty tight about paying benefits.

In among all my medical appointments I have several social engagements that I've been putting off that I have to fulfill. My neighbor Barbara wanted to take me out for my birthday at a place of my choice. We went out today for lunch (I don't drive at night). I chose wrong again. I chose the new Italian restaurant in Lewes called Annabella's. It was a disaster. Hey, it's not hard to chose bad restaurants in this area. The hard thing is to chose a good restaurant that isn't an overpriced tourist trap or one that doesn't cost $100.00 for two for lunch.

The restaurant I chose for my birthday lunch today = BIG MISTAKE - Barb was smiling when she went in but now when she came out

Barb had a meatball and spaghetti. Yes, A MEATBALL. She ordered "meatballs and spaghetti" so what does she get? ONE BIG MEATBALL. She said there was no taste to it. She said it was like the cook just made a big meatball out of ground beef without any seasonings. Nothing subtle here.

"My God! I actually ate that meatball!"

I got Eggplant Parmesan. And as usual when I order Eggplant Parmesan at anyplace except the Rehoboth Diner, it was a greasy mess. I'm still digesting it. The gift that keeps on giving.

Yes, I ate the grease soaked Eggplant Parmesan - I didn't touch the canned Chef Boyardee spaghetti - took that home for Bill

I used to write restaurant reviews but I don't anymore. The way I figure it these people are in business and I don't want to make their work any harder of them. The economy is too rough on everyone as it is. Let the word of mouth get around about the sub par meals that are served around here. I hear a Panera Restaurant is coming to our area. Can't be soon enough! I just hope they don't succumb to the Feed the Tourist Reheated Frozen Food (a la Sysco) and Overcharge Them For It trap. I've eaten at a Panera restaurant in Greenville, South Carolina where my brother lives and it is great! No waiters to tip, no screaming kids, no tourists. Oh wait, ah yes. I am in Tourist Land here. Oh well, we'll see how it goes.

I just got back from my daily walk. Hey guys, want to lose that stomach? Tired of looking like you're six months pregnant? Walk a mile briskly every day. You may not get Ryan Gosling abs but you will lose that belly and you can tuck your shirt in again. Just saying. You know who you are.

The weather today was fabulous! The temperature reached up to 61 degrees. Bill and I went down to the Union Cemetery in Georgetown and I took another 743 photos of headstones. Just a lovely, wonderful day to roam around a quiet cemetery. We weren't alone. Several couple walked through the cemetery on the pathway for their Afternoon Stroll. Why not? The Union Cemetery is located right in the heart of downtown Georgetown, with is the busy little county seat of Sussex County, Delaware. The courthouse is there and all those law offices. While taking photos of the graves I came across a little bunny sunning himself near a headstone. He didn't move even though I was within two feet of him. He too was enjoying the "balmy" breezes of the day.

The little bunny rabbit sunning himself on Short's grave this afternoon

Volunteering

2012-01-31T09:52:00.002-05:00

Me on a mountain top somewhere in Tennessee looking for that next cemetery

Now that I'm retired I'm often asked "Do you volunteer your time?" My first thought when I hear someone ask me this question is:

"You're an old useless man now who has nothing to do with your days, surely you would want to give your free time to help others."

Yes, perhaps this sounds harsh but remember, this is my blog and I don't fool around here. I tell the truth as I see it, offending many along the way.

Now I'm not saying there is anything wrong with volunteering your time. Many of us old useless folks find volunteering fulfills a part of their life by helping others. I think that is JUST FINE. If you fall into that category and you want to volunteer your time at the local thrift store (which I have been asked to do on numbers occasions), GO FOR IT! You're happy, the thrift store is happy getting your free time, and the ultimate beneficiaries of the thrift store benefit by your generosity. That is wonderful and I am not criticizing or condemning that activity at all. What I am say, that is not for me. I've seen old men like me volunteer and I don't like what I see. They're not appreciated, they're taken for granted and they are looked down upon.

Me with my Mom at my paternal grandparent's grave in Union Hill Cemetery

Bill and I got a kick out of seeing the description of one of our friend's obituary. It listed his name and underneath it said "Neighborhood volunteer." Say what? We knew this guy and he was a former friend for several reasons. Not only was he a racist who liked to use the N Word freely in describing another neighbor in our neighborhood but he was one of the most opportunistic and selfish people I've ever known. That's why he was a former friend. So we scratched out heads and tried to figure out what the "neighborhood volunteer" description meant. And then it hit us! Ah yes, our former friend volunteered at the local gay community center stuffing condoms into packets to be distributed to local gay bars. Well that explained it, our former friend volunteered as a way to meet people. He volunteered in a milieu where he was comfortable. That's fine. Whatever works for him. Sort of funny though reading that description of him in his obituary. The obituary should have went into more detail. Now that would have been interesting.

Me standing on my cemetery plot at Northwood Cemetery, Downingtown, PA

I see the old ladies at the local thrift store who volunteer their time. Bless their hearts. I admire them. Volunteering works for them. Volunteering gives them a chance to put on their ~~war paint~~ makeup and get out in public and do something useful. And they are always so sweet. Volunteering works for them. I'm happy for them and I'm happy for the thrift shop.

The view from my cemetery plot at Northwood Cemetery

So now we get to me, this old guy that some are so concerned that I don't have enough to do in my spare time that they feel the need to suggest that I volunteer my time to some worthy cause. I guess they think because I'm not one of these well off older gay guys who has two or three homes that I travel back and forth too. You know, the home in PA and then the one in Rehoboth then the one in Florida for winter - sorry folks, I'm a POOR OLD GAY GUY. I only have ONE home. I tough it out here in the winter. Nah, I'm not one of THOSE guys. By the way, notice how they NEVER volunteer their time? Oh yes, you won't see them getting down with the hoi polli. They are much too good for that. I notice that there is a direct inverse, the more property these guys have, the less they volunteer. They're always the ones making the suggestions to this Poor Old Gay Guy. I actually need to continue working to supplement my modest Social Security and retirement income. I don't have the luxury of traveling between my homes. I have a part-time job that I need to get paid for to keep up with my bills. I'm not lazy. I'll work as long as I can.

Some of my friends, who only have one home, volunteer at their local church (treasurer) or homeowners association (treasurer again). Again, I think that is just fine. They are utilizing their skills in a useful manner. That is good and I do not criticize them. I admire them.

What I resent are those who feel the need to advise me that I should volunteer my time. Here's the deal folks...I DO VOLUNTEER but I chose the method that I volunteer. I am an Find a Grave volunteer. I travel to cemeteries and take pictures of graves and post them to a website. I do this because I ENJOY doing this plus my effort is almost always appreciated. My volunteering is also good for my health because I get out in the open and move around. I'm not one of those old gay guys who can't figure out how to lose weight. I guess if all you're doing is eating out most of the time and moving around very little, you're going to put on weight and become unhealthy. By the way, here's my advice to lose weight:

MOVE MORE, EAT LESS

Later today Bill and I are going to return to the Union Cemetery in Georgetown. I have a lot of pictures to take. While taking those photos, I'll be moving around, bending down and standing up. I have about five pounds to lose that I gained over the winter. I don't think I'll run into any of my Old Gay Friends at the cemetery today with three homes who advise me to volunteer my time.

Do I Look Like My Father?

2012-01-30T11:24:00.001-05:00

This is a photo of my father at 18 years old when he worked for Lukens Steel Company in 1941 when he was 21 years old

I guess this is the fate of all first born sons, the older they get the more they look like their father.

Tell me what you think. Here are a series of photographs of me and my father, Isaac Walter Tipton, Sr.

This is a drivers license photo of me when I was about 22 years old taken in 1963

Both my father and I were 6'4" tall (I'm now 6'3" - I'm shrinking!) We both have the same blank stare. My father usually had his mouth hanging open. I do to, this picture was the exception.

The one significant difference between me and my father was that he was blonde and I have dark brown hair (from my Mother). We both had blue eyes and a slim build with big feet (look it up.)

My father was a very handsome man. He had ten brothers (no sisters) and he was perhaps most handsome of his brothers with the possible exception of his brother John who the brothers nicknamed "Movie Star." My father, or "Pop" as we knew him NEVER had a problem attracting women. In fact, he was a woman magnet. I found out shortly before my Mother died (when she divulged all to me) that he did carry on quite a bit. Thank God she forgave him and kept our family together. They were married 60 years before he died in August of 2000.

Me, 1968. Unlike my father (who was VERY straight) I am gay. Like my father I NEVER had a problem attracting men (no false modesty here, it is MY BLOG after all :)) And yes, I have done my share of catting around (Bill and I have always had an open relationship)

My handsome father and beautiful Mother (who was beautiful even without makeup) - 1958.

Later in life my father grew a beard as I did also.

This picture was taken at Hibernia Lake near Coatesville, PA in 1974. My father was 54 years old. He wasn't skinny anymore but he wasn't fat either. I inherited his good genes, neither of us ever grew fat. However, since I was gay I elected to stay a little thinner than my father. In the gay world thin is in.

This is me at our former property in Pennsylvania in 1976. I was about 35 years old in this picture.

Here I am now (this past summer actually) at 69 years old. Less hair, gray beard, but still with the old pizzazz!

I decided to post this vanity blog to offset (balance) the negativity of my previous blog posting. I don't like to post blogs like that but sometimes I just have to get the anger and frustration out of my system.

Back to good things on this blog. Things that I WANT TO TALK ABOUT, not what someone else thinks I should talk about.

I am proud of my father. I am proud of my mother and brothers. I am proud of myself and where I am at in my life. I have a wonderful partner of 47 years and I don't believe that I have to apologize to anybody for being blessed in my life, no matter how much they try to bring me down.

A fellow blogger sent me a quote that Marilyn Monroe said that I never heard before that is so appropriate at this time.

"If you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”

"Pop" at his best, self confident, happy and looking good!

"Pop" with his successor, ME! 1942

If You Don't Like Me, Then Don't Read This Blog

2012-01-29T21:56:00.000-05:00

Folks, I'm going to be a little harsh here. I've tried to keep my feelings stifled about a recent incident but I'm not going to anymore. Now I am not addressing this to the casual reader of my blog. I am addressing this to those few who read my blog who don't like me either from jealousy, envy or whatever.

Here are the rules on MY BLOG:

I write what I want to write on my blog.
I do not submit to censors.

A few days ago a former friend read something on one of my earlier blogs that he thought referred to him. It did. I did not mention him by name but I did mention his casual rudeness and thoughtlessness along with some other folks I know who have taken my efforts on their behalf for granted. This is one of those individuals who fails to see that he makes any mistakes and never, but NEVER apologizes for anything. He is perfect, at least in his own mind.

There are others who feel that they are superior to me and feel the need to correct me from time to time. To those people I say "save your time." Go away and leave me alone. And please, PLEASE don't read my blog if it upsets you THAT much. Don't worry, I won't mention your name. However, if some local folks figure out who I'm talking about, see them and tell them that you're the perfect person and I am the one who is in the wrong. I'll take all the blame. God forbid that someone should criticize you.

Life is short as it is and now that I am seventy years old I just do not have the time to waste on people like you who are so easily offended. So you've told me to go away and I'll return the favor, you go away too.

We all go through life making friends along the way and losing friends either to geography of death. Sometimes we just have falling outs with friends. Some of us are lucky and we make lifetime friends. Those are the friends who accept us as we are, faults an all. Anyone who is so sensitive and touchy that is so easily offended where offense was not meant, wasn't a true friend in the first place. Sometimes it just takes me a while to find that out.

As I wrote in a previous blog "My Character Flaw", the blog that OFFENDED, I do have a character flaw in that I tolerate these kinds of "friends" as long as I have. I tolerate them much too long.

I have to be honest and say that sometimes I just get so tired of trying to please people. I've done it my whole life and perhaps that's my biggest mistake. I think my attitude of trying to please people makes some lose respect for me. SOME PEOPLE, not all.

For those I offend, stay offended. For those of you who are my friends and who appreciate my friendship I say "thank you." But for those of you who don't like me for whatever reason, please don't read this blog.

Live For Today, Plan For Tomorrow

2012-01-29T07:52:00.002-05:00

Three friends of mine from elementary school - all successful and happy because they lived for today and planned for tomorrow -unlike some other people I know who bemoan their present state of affairs because they lived for today only

Recently I read a blog post of a friend who was bemoaning his present state of life. I responded by making a comment by quoting that old tired "Annie" show tune "Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Things will be better tomorrow!" Of course my friend quickly dismissed that optimistic statement by saying "I live only for today!"

Oh my oh my. How foolish. I am so glad I didn't think "I live only for today" when I embarked on my Plan For Life when I was a mere 12 years old. At that time I knew I wanted to own my own home. That was my master plan.

My next plan was how to get it. My mother told me that they could not afford to send me to college. So, instead of taking the college preparatory courses in high school I took the commercial course. I wanted to learn skills that could get me a paying job. That I did. I learned bookkeeping and typing.

My next plan was to fulfill my obligation for the privilege of living in this country by joining one of the branches of our armed forces. By doing this I would be fulfilling several goals in addition to my patriotic requirement to give somethign back to my country. I would be eligible for the G.I. Bill when I got out of the service. I took advantage of the G.I. Bill and got a college education paid for by the U.S. Government.

I also was eligible for free lifetime medical care, should I need it, by serving three years of activie duty. That was also another wise choice that this 18 year old made. There came a time in my life when I was in my fifties and I had no job and I needed medical care which the Veterans Administration provided to me free of charge. I continue to use the Veterans Administration for my medical needs and I will testify that it is the best care I have ever received.

Once I got out of the service I set my goals on working for a big city bank. I accomplished that goal and worked at Girard/Mellon bank for twenty two years. When the bank mergers became a way of life I was able to secure jobs with several other additional bank. I made sure I worked at those banks long enough to be vested in their pension plans. I now receive three separate pension checks each month in addition to my Social Secuity check.

After I was established in my banking job I went after my next goal which was to own my own home. I did not want to spend the rest of my life renting a house like the way I grew up. I wanted to own my own home. That I did. I am now living in my third home that I purchased, the last two I built.

None of these achievements would have been possibile if I just drifted through life "living for today" and not concerned about tomorrow. Thank God.

I've made my fair share of mistake during my life and done a lot of stupid things but one thing I didn't do was to be so reckless as to "live just for today." Thank God.

Anyone who does "live just for today" probably deserves to be where they are today. Any sympathy I had for them was probably misplaced.

Reading

2012-01-28T08:24:00.002-05:00

My bed bookshelf

I love to read. The first book I read was a biography of Benjamin Franklin. I was in sixth grade. I sat in the back of the classroom. Behind my desk was a wall long cabinet. On top of that cabinet was a collection of orange books. Those books were biographies of American historical figures, some of whom were George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, Alexander Hamilton, etc.

My Sixth Grade Class (I was absent the day this picture was taken - my desk was the third from the right in the back - my friend Billy B. is sitting at my desk)

Me when I discovered books 1953

No one encouraged me or told me to read those books. I was bored by the class and curious as to what was in the books. Up until that time the only reading I did were the Tom, Dick and Jane (and Spot) books, the books of Fifties elementary school. Later I read the Weekly Reader.

Mrs. Yost, my sixth grade teacher who let me read

I remember to this day picking up that first orange covered book biography of Benjamin Franklin. I've forgotten a lot over the years but I remember holding that first hard covered book. I opened it and glanced at the pages. I was quickly drawn into another world, the world of the 18th century and Benjamin Franklin flying his kite in an thunder storm discovering electricity. I asked my sixth grade teacher Mrs. Yost if I could take a book home to continue reading it. She said I could. It was from that point I was hooked on reading.

I quickly went through the collection of orange covered autobiographies. I've often wondered if the color orange had a lot to do with luring me into reading those books because I so remember that warm, inviting color.

The Downingtown Public Library

After I finished that collection of books, someone suggested that I get a library card for the Downingtown Public Library. The Downingtown Library was/is a grand old stone building located on the tree lined residential street that runs through Downingtown. I still remember the wonderful smell of old books when I first walked into that wonderful, welcoming building.

I got my library card from the wonderful older woman (she was probably 40 but she seemed old to me) who sat behind a desk stacked with books. It wasn't too long before my library card was filled with dates of books checked in and checked out.

From that day in 1953 until today, I have probably read thousands of books.

My favorite books are biographies, history books, and current events/political books. I read some fiction but I don't read mysteries, science fiction or poetry. I never got those books. It doesn't mean there is anything wrong with those books, it's just that they bore me.

I read before I go to bed. I read in the bathroom. I read when I eat. I read all the time.

What I'm reading now, "Include Me Out", Farley Granger's autobiography

I love reading.

Me reading in bed - my favorite bedtime activity...really

Dreams - Mom is Pregnant!

2012-01-27T17:30:00.002-05:00

A fellow blogger in a recent post mentioned a recurring dream he had. His post got me to thinking about dreams I have.

I used to dream a lot when I was younger. By "younger" I mean when I was a teenager with raging hormones. I dreamed a lot about my fantasy boyfriends and what I would do to them. Dreams baby, dreams.

Once I became an adult and was able to make my dreams a realty I ceased to dream as much. Oh sure, I would have the occasional dream that I wouldn't remember when I woke up but I never had those sexual fantasy dreams anymore. In fact, these days it would be impossible for me to have a sexual fantasy dream, my hormones are done gone.

Me and Mom 1941

However, occasionally I still do have dreams. Most often when I eat chocolate. Either in a chocolate cake for a chocolate chip cookie. Not the Toll House cookies, those chocolate chips are too small. I have the dreams when I eat those chocolate chip cooks (which probably should be called "chocolate chunk cookies") that I get at BJ's.

So when I read that my fellow blogger was dreaming I thought I would take a little trip to Dreamland myself. When I got in from work last night, I devoured TWO chocolate chunk cookies. Guaranteed dreams right? Well, I wasn't disappointed.

Here is what I dreamed. I dreamed that my 86 year old Mother got pregnant. Yes, this is the same Mother who died in September of 2010 at 86 years old. All I can remember about the dream is "how in the hell did she get pregnant?!" and "what are we going to do now because she was so old?" WHO IS GOING TO TAKE CARE OF THIS BABY?

Like all my dreams, when I wake up I'm in a sweat and exhausted. Man oh man, let me tell you I was really exhausted on this one. What in the world triggered this dream?

So I tried to analyze it when I woke up. Yes, I did remember this dream. Not all the details (we still didn't find out how she got pregnant, my father died in 2000 and that was the only man she was ever with).

This is the way I figure it: I think I'm in Groundhog Day. Yes folks, I think I'm about to DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN!

I'm not a religious person. If anything I believe in reincarnation in some form. Wouldn't it be a cruel twist of irony if I had to live my life all over again? Wow.

Me and Mom 1942 after I popped out - I was a happy baby then (with a droopy diaper yet)

Think Spring

2012-01-27T13:47:00.000-05:00

One more month to go! We're almost at the end of January, one-half of the "Just Get Through These Months of the Year" duo of January and February, two of the coldest, grayest and dreariest months of the year here in good old Southern Delaware.

Dew on Iris in Spring (Ronald Tipton photo)

I was going to get Bill to drive me down to BJ's in Millsboro this morning to stock up on spinach artichoke hummus and Panero potato leek soup, but the rain dampened our enthusiasm to ride the roads of southern Delaware this morning. Instead I spent a good deal of time on the phone with Carbonite, my offsite backup solutions for my computer.

Since summer I've suspected Carbonite hasn't been backing up my precious iMac computer files to their offsite facility. I now have over 54,000 photos and many hours of video on my computer that I DON'T want to lose. Yesterday I was on the phone with Kyle from Carbonite. After Kyle explored by hard drive (now stop that) for a couple of hours and reinstalling the Carbonite software, I discovered this morning that I'm back to Square One. Carbonite still isn't backing up my files.

Thus back on the phone again this morning. One thing I will give the Carbonite people, their help line is just about as good as Apples in time of response, friendliness of the support technician and NO FOREIGN ACCENT. The Carbonite folks are up in Maine (it was snowing this morning, rain here). Another hour and a half of examining, probing and exploring my hard drive by "Paul" this time (do I sound like a tramp?) and still no resolution to my problem. In fact my Carbonite backup is going backwards now! When I started out I had 122.06 GB (244,432 files) backed up and 26.12 GB (18.678 files) waiting to be backed up. Now I have 82.59 GB (196,399 files) backed up and 27.51 (36,163 files) waiting to be backed up. Confusing? I'm confused.

So now I'm awaiting for "Tammy" from their Tier Two of support tech help to call me at 2:00 pm (which is my normal nap time) to see what the problem is. I suspect more probing of my hard drive (am I pushing this joke too far?) is in store. This is about 23 minutes away from now so I better wrap this little missive up and prepare myself.

Oh lordy, lordy, it's always something isn't it?

Union Cemetery, Georgetown, Delaware

2012-01-26T11:21:00.002-05:00

Memorial statue at Union Cemetery, Georgetown, DE

Last week Bill and I visited a new cemetery. I had six Find a Grave photo requests to fill. All the graves were located at the Union Cemetery in Georgetown, Delaware. I had never been to this cemetery before. This cemetery has now become one of my favorite cemeteries because of it's peacefulness.

Ironically it is located almost in the center of Georgetown, which is the county seat of Sussex County. To the far side is a Waste Management terminal. At times during our visit, several of the Waste Management trash truck were pulling in and dumping their loads for the day. I happen to take this video early yesterday morning, when the only sounds were of a lone bird chirping somewhere in the trees surround the cemetery and only one blast from a nearby train.

We couldn't find any of the graves that had photo requests. Although the day was sunny, the temperatures were still down in the low 40's. With the occasional wind whipping through the cemetery, it got a little uncomfortable touring through the cemetery. However, this is a grand old cemetery with many graves (over 1,000) so I will definitely be back when the weather takes a turn for the better.

Some may think I'm weird for getting pleasure out of touring cemeteries fulfilling Find a Grave photo requests. I understand that. Some may think I don't have much of a life when I could instead be spending my time chasing after the current social scene of keeping the local restaurants in business. But folks, this is what I enjoy doing (and Bill too).

Rare Photo!

2012-01-25T11:47:00.000-05:00

Bill and Ron with Heidie at neighbors' house a few minutes ago

Hey folks! A rare photo was just taken a few minutes ago. Our neighbors called and asked Bill if he could help them move their couch. I wasn't ask but I went over anyway. I'm nosy. I wanted to see my neighbor's new couch.

After Bill was done helping the husband move the couch (I of course was keeping the Misses entertained), Bill joined us in her living room. Her little Yorkie was yapping, wanting to be picked up. I picked her up and placed her in Bill's reluctant arms (which doesn't matter to Heidi the Yorkie, she LOVES Bill). Now that I had Bill immobilized I asked Barbara (our neighbor) to snap a picture of us with her Android phone. Here it is!

Bill doesn't like to have his picture taken. We have very few pictures of us together. I think the last ones were the photos my blogger friend Mark H. took this past summer when he and his spouse (Fred) visited us. I warned Bill that we are going to have our picture taken together when we get do our Civil Union Thing (Delaware still isn't at the "married" stage yet for same sex couples, we take what we can get to protect our legal rights at least here in the state where we live).

I told Bill that I'm going to give him a Big Wet One when the ceremony is over and I'll try and get that picture published in the local paper. He can't sleep at night now even considering the possibility that he's finally going to be outed BIGTIME!

Get ready Bill, this is just a preview.

Yes, I noticed that the picture is blurred. Actually, that's not a bad thing at our age. We're sort of like the old movie stars who soap up the camera lens to blur out their winkles.

President Hugs Gabby Giffords

2012-01-25T08:37:00.000-05:00

Whatever your political persuasion few could help not to be touched by this scene last night at President Obama's State of the Union message event.

Does PSA Screening Save Lives?

2012-01-24T17:49:00.010-05:00

Reader's Digest article from February 2012 issue

Yesterday I got into an exchange of nasty e-mails with my former classmate Jean. Jean is the official Class Busybody who keeps all us remaining members of the Downingtown High School Class of 1959 informed of the doings, whereabouts, and who is still alive and who has died in our class. She sends out an occasional e-mail to all surviving members of the class called "DHS Newsy."

I guess she is doing us all a service by keeping us all informed of our former classmates. I'll admit, I am nosy and in my capacity of preparing the class reunion booklets I like to be informed to.

She sends me an e-mail last week, a few days after the death of yet another classmate asking me "How are you doing Ron?" Of course I tell her of my Prostate Drama and my decision not to follow through with a biopsy. You know me, Full Disclosure Ron (much to the chagrin of some of my friends and Bill).

She immediately sends me an e-mail telling me to "get your ass to your doctor and get that biopsy!" Of course I took umbrage to her tone. You have to know her, she is a total "I'm in charge and YOU LISTEN TO ME!" She has done a lot of good for our class in bringing us together for reunions, which would probably never have happened without her IN CHARGE attitude. But hey, whether I decided to get a prostate biopsy or not is NONE OF HER BUSINESS!

I haven't had the best past couple of weeks what with my cold, the gray dreary weather and the short days (lack of daylight does that to me). So I shot her back an e-mail telling her basically to get her facts in order before she starts barking me orders. She is one of these people who thinks she's an expert in everything. I guess I was a little mean in pointing out to her that in this case she was NOT THE EXPERT and perhaps she should do a little reading up on PSA scores, and the dangers of getting prostate biopsies and treatment thereof before she starts her Big Mama Thing. I told her that someone needed to tell her this. Of course she DID NOT LIKE THIS. She sent me a scathing e-mail back. One of those "WELL, I NEVAH!" Deal with it woman, deal with it.

Now wouldn't you know it, Bill comes across this article in Reader's Digest today. I've taken it out of the magazine and scanned it into my computer. I think you can read it.

The article says:

"...only one in four men with a PSA between four and ten actually has prostate cancer- the rest are false positives. And because the disease grows slowly in most cases, very few occurrences of prostate cancer are life-threatening. In fact, less than three percent of all men will die of the disease. Worse, the treatment for prostate cancer can cause serious side effect such as impotence and incontinence. "

The article goes on to say

"Healthy men don't need to be screened. In October, the U.S. Preventive Services Task Force, a panel of health-care experts that sad vises many medical associations, concluded that the over diagnosis and over treatment that result from PSA screening outweigh the benefits. The panel cited a 2009 European study of 182,000 men that concluded that more than 1,400 men would have to be regularly screened-and set on a path toward possible biopsies, surgeries, and anxiety as a result - to prevent a single prostate cancer death. A similar 2009 study that followed nearly 77,000 American men for seven to ten eras found no evident that screening saves lives."

Of course every man has to make his own decision whether or not to get a PSA screening and to follow-through on biopsies and/or treatment. I made my personal decision based on how I felt about my personal situation. I do not and would not impose my decision on anyone else no do I want them imposing their decision on me. So when someone tells me to "get your ass to my doctor and get a biopsy" I get mad.

Sorry lady, but you asked for it. You blast me, I blast you right back. Something some of my friends know I am wont to do when talked to in a dismissive tone. It's called The Tipton Temper. It rarely makes an appearance but when it does...watch out.

Trip to the Dentist - Sticker Shock!

2012-01-24T16:26:00.001-05:00

This morning I received a reality check why I should keep my part-time job. I visited my dentist.

My bill for filling two cavities, replacing and old filling and fixing three small chips on my bottom teeth:

$868.00

Couple that bill with my bill of $121.00 for getting my teeth cleaned last week and you have a grand total of $989.00. That is almost one thousand dollars! That my friends is a lot of coupons.

Please don't misunderstand me, I have an excellent dentist. For an old man (that would be me), my dentist has provided me with a pretty set of Pearlies. And I also understand that this is what dental work goes for these days but...man oh man. I'm still suffering from sticker shock.

Just yesterday I was talking to my long time friend who is the same age as me and is also retired about our mutual monthly living expenses. My Social Security and three small pension checks just about keep me (and Bill) on par with our monthly living expenses. If it wasn't for my part-time job I would be digging into principal for those Extra Unplanned For Expenses which, as you know happen with regularity. Even though we don't plan for these expenses in our monthly budget, they happen.

I would love to have all the money I've spent in dental expenses in my lifetime. It would be thousands and thousands of dollars. However, one thing I am thankful for (and I really am) is that I am in a position to afford going to an excellent dentist, even though he is VERY EXPENSIVE. (I hope he doesn't read this blog).

When I was a kid I used to fear going to the dentist because of the pain. The dentist my Mother used to send me to never gave me any painkillers. All that drilling was done sans novacaine. Now there is no physical pain, not even the needle hurts now. But man oh man, the bill sure does hurt.

Ready to Fly High Again

2012-01-23T16:28:00.002-05:00

Photo taken from our local Funland Tourist Trap this summer

One of the really positive things about keeping and posting a blog is that I always (so far anyway) received positive and helpful comments from some of my blogger friends and followers. I want you all to know that I appreciate all of your comments and suggestions.

The past three weeks haven't been my best. I think a lot of it has to do with the cold I developed three weeks ago that I am just now getting over. It didn't help that just as I was in the middle of the worst of my cold I was called into work to work almost full-time to fill in for my co-worker who had a miscarriage.

Also it didn't help that the weather has generally been gray, rainy and dreary. Today was no exception. It sure would be nice to see the sun again. I see on my iPhone weather app that the sun will make an appearance tomorrow. At least we didn't get the four inches of snow (which is still on the ground!) my friend Larry got where he lives in upstate Delaware. Delaware isn't a big state so "upstate" is only about 90 miles as the crow flies from Casa Tipton-Kelly.

Tomorrow morning I have a dental appointment (two cavities - at my age? I don't have that many teeth left!) After the appointment Bill and I will take a ride to the Union Cemetery in Georgetown. I have FOUR Find a Grave requests to fulfill. One of my very favorite activities, roaming around graveyards (don't ask). Bill likes to check out the old headstones too.

Bill and fellow Find a Grave.com member Pat Sellers at Bill's family cemetery in Toccoa Georgia last spring during our Trip South last April 2011

Tonight I'm looking forward to the Republican debate in Florida. Mitt ("Mittens") Romney is going to "get tough" (this should be fun) with Newt. Talk about a Steel Cage Match. Mitt will be lucky if Newt doesn't hand him his head on a platter like he did Jon King at the CNN debate in South Carolina last Friday night.

Even though it was overcast and cloudy today with spritzes of rain, Bill was outside working on digging up wire grass from our expansive backyard. We may have another rough month to go but I do see spring on the horizon. It is less than three months until Bill and I make our annual Trip Down South.

Ah yes, always have something to look forward to and don't let the gray, cold, windy days of Winter get you down.

Last year's tulips, they're coming back this year!

My Character Flaw

2012-01-23T10:58:00.002-05:00

Actually I have many character flaws but here is one that has dogged me my whole life. It is very simple:

I CARE TOO MUCH FOR MY FRIENDS

Last night I woke up at about 2 a.m. I couldn't get back to sleep. I was upset. What was I upset about? I know I'll be mocked about this by some of my "friends" but here it is:

I was upset about the blog that I wrote about just before I went to bed. The blog was about my vow not to offer advice to friends anymore because they rarely if ever take it. I vented in my blog posting which I probably shouldn't of done because I probably hurt the feelings of some of my friends (one in particular, and he knows who he is) and gave ammunition to other "friends" to further mock me for my naiveté.

Many years ago a good friend told me "Ron, you're a nice guy. You're intelligent, good-looking and have a good heart but you're terminally naive." At first I didn't understand what he was saying. I told Bill (my spouse) what my friend said. Bill agreed with him. I told other friends including my Mother. They all agreed with him.

Since that revelation about this facet of my personality I've tried to look at my life through that prism. Sometimes I've been successful, most times not. I keep falling into the trap of trying to help friends and people. Usually the result is that I'm either taken for granted or not respected because I'm considered a fool. There are some who are reading this blog right now (who I know personally) who are all too eager to point out again how naive I am even to be writing about this subject. They take delight in telling me again how foolish and immature I am. Those "friends" I have tried to distance myself from. Sometimes I've been successful, sometimes not. Usually when someone asks for help, I help. I've been advised to say "No" sometimes. I did that recently to a friend (former now) and I've never heard from them again, so much for that "friend." Again, proof of my naiveté.

I eventually did get back to sleep last night. It wasn't a good sleep. I wish I could be hard and callous but it is not in my character. In the past I've been taken advantage of because of my naiveté. Bill likes to call me "gullible." He thinks it is an attractive trait that I have. Maybe something good did come of my naiveté. If I was your typical, opportunistic, selfish, grasping person I would probably be alone now in my life. Instead I live with a person who loves me and I love him.

So let me get through this hurdle and I'll probably return to my old gullible ways. I'll just have to learn not to take things so personally. I want to go back to my good night's of sleep.

The Fool on the Hill?

Don't Ask Me

2012-01-22T21:09:00.002-05:00

I'm often asked for my advice. I am by nature a generous person and I freely give advice when asked. I've been around a long time (70 years) and have experienced a lot. However, I am coming to the conclusion that I am going to stop giving my advice, even when asked. Why? Because it is not taken.

Why should I waste my time? I think I'm a pretty intelligent and successful person. Anyone who knows me knows that I generally make good decisions. In fact, I almost always make good decisions. If I have any faults it is perhaps that I am TOO GENEROUS. I believe it is called "Generous to a fault."

Well, I have come to the conclusion that for whatever reason, even when my advice is asked, it is ignored. So folks, friends, please don't' ask my advice in the future.

Here are a couple of recent incidents.

Incident Nubmer One: A friend of mine asked me if I knew of a handyman. It just so happens I did. In fact two friends asked me. I told them of the maintenance man that works at the hotel where I work. I even talked to the man and asked him if he was interested in working for either one of these two old gay guys. He said he was. I told him I would contact my friends and tell them. That I did. That was months ago. I even asked the maintenance man to call one of my friends to show his interest. He did. Still nothing. Thus my time was wasted, the maintenance man's time was wasted and I was embarrassed.
Incident Number Two: A couple of years ago a friend of mine was undergoing a breakup in his longterm relationship. He asked my advice how to invest his share of the proceeds of his jointly owned house with his former partner. I advised him to put it in a CD. I said specifically NOT TO INVEST IT IN A MUTUAL FUND. So what did he do? He invested his money IN A MUTUAL FUND and then had the temerity to blame me when his fund lost 40% of it's value. We didn't directly blame me but did say "I should never have listened to my friends advice to put my funds in a mutual fund." I told him to his face "I DID NOT TELL YOU TO PUT THEM IN MUTUAL FUNDS." He just looked at me like I stepped off a spaceship. Apparently I didn't fit into his narrative of being the VICTIM of which he is fond of playing.
Incident Number Three: My neighbor asked my advice as to what kind of cell phone to get. I highly recommended an iPhone. I had already convinced her to get an iPad which she loves. So what kind of phone does she get? She gets an ANDROID! Then she asks me how to use it. I told her I didn't know how to use it nor did I wish to give myself a headache trying to figure out how to use yet another non user friendly product. She also got a new computer. I advised her to get an iMac. Did she? Oh no. No she didn't. She got an HP with the tower and all. Thus she can spend the next several years with the constant upgrades and making sure her virus protection is up to date plus all the extra money she will have to spend hiring my former Computer Guy to help her out when her computer freezes up.
Incident Number Four: a blogger friend blogged that he was getting a new computer. He already has an iPhone. He didn't ask my advice but I did offer my advice to get an iMac. So what does his partner get? He gets a HP computer because he says it "is more user friendly." NOT TRUE. Only Apple products are user friendly. All Windows based products exists only for upgrades to keep Bill Gates the richest man in the world so he can be the big ~~benefactor~~ hero (along with Melinda of course) in curing malaria in India.

Folks, I know I'm on a rant here but sometimes it is just so frustrating to know that in an area that I know I am right, that people I know have so little respect for my opinion that they ignore it. It doesn't make me feel good at all. Oh I'll get over it but this is depressing.

However, I will stop giving advice when asked and not volunteering when not asked. I'll save myself a lot of aggravation and feeling the Victim myself. Maybe it is me after all.

Me ascending steps at a long forgotten historic site in Montreal, Canada in 1967
an appropriate picture to symbolize me walking away from a long habit of mine offering advice to friends - my advice is rarely if ever taken so why waste my time? I'm tired of it.

Healthy Chicken Breasts

2012-01-22T09:28:00.000-05:00

Trim fat from chicken breasts

Hi folks! Something light this morning. It's been awhile since I posted one of my tried and true recipes. Here is one that I make all the time. It is a very simple healthy recipe for cooking chicken but very tasty and elegant.

Melt 1/4 cup butter in shiny aluminum pan

This isn't my original recipe. I discovered it many years ago (late Fifties) when my father was given a special diet by his doctor to help with his heart problems. My father loved anything cooked in LOTS of grease, especially fried chicken. This is a recipe for chicken (I use boneless chicken breasts) that isn't friend and doesn't use any grease. However, it does use butter but only a minimal amount.

Place breasts in pan to cook slowly in melted butter

Here are the ingredients you need:

3 (or 4) boneless chicken breasts (or any other parts of the chicken you desire)
1/4 cup butter
1 sliced onion
salt and pepper to taste

Place one sliced onion on top of breasts

I told you it would be easy!

Here's what you do now. Take a stainless steel aluminum pot (a shiny stainless steel pot seems to work best, don't ask me why it just does) and melt the 1/4 cup butter. Be careful not to brown or burn the butter.

Next, place the chicken breasts in the pan.

Salt and pepper the chicken breasts to your taste.

Place the sliced onions over top of the seasoned chicken breasts.

Cover the pan and cook on Low for approximately 30 to 45 minutes until the chicken begins to brown.

When the bottom of the chicken has browned, turn over. You may need to add a small amount of water to the pan to prevent burning.

Continue cooking until the chicken is a golden brown on both sides.

Cook breasts in butter with lid on until browned

Turn the fire off.

Turn breasts over to brown on both sides, adding water if necessary to prevent burning

Now you have a tender, tasty chicken that can be eaten as is or added to any other recipe.

I usually eat one chicken breast with fresh al dente string beans and French Fries (yes Virginia, I eat French Fries - oven baked without the salt).

I cool the rest of the chicken and make chicken salad with it to take to work at my nighttime hotel job.

This is ONE EASY TASTY RECIPE. You can't miss!

Enjoy!

Gingrich Wins South Carolina Primary!

2012-01-21T23:55:00.004-05:00

Me (plaid shirt) at the White House 1967

Great news! New Gingrich won the South Carolina Republican primary!

First, let me make this perfectly clear. Newt Gingrich stands about as much chance to enter the White House and I do. The closest I ever got to the White House was a tourist trip I took with my Bill in 1967 (see above picture). The second time I got close to the White House was two years ago when I marched (beads and all) in a gay demonstration parade past the White House.

Me (green beads and Goofy hat) at the White House 2009

Again, let me make this perfectly clear:

NEWT GINGRICH WILL NEVER BE ELECTED PRESIDENT

Having said that, let me makes this clear: I am going to thoroughly enjoy watching the good Christian Republicans tie themselves all up in knots in their unreasonable obsessive hatred of the present occupant of the White House by trying to decide with LOSER they will nominate to represent the Republican Party. Will it be Willard Mitt "Mittens" Romney, the millionaire elitist who has NO CLUE of what life is like for the average American or will it be the grandiose, race baiting, Macy's balloon parade buffoon Newton Gingrich? I'm telling you folks, I'm loving this.

Santorum? You have GOT TO BE KIDDING. I'm pretty sure we're past electing homophobes like the self-righteous, sanctimonious Santorum to the presidency. Even George W. wasn't a homophobe who equated same sex couples wanting to get married the same as a man marrying a goat.

And then there is the Cute Little Old Man Ron Paul. Don't kid yourself folks. He's a homophobe too. He's still in the time warp where he calls gays "queers." How quaint. The only good idea Ron Paul has is to take us out of all the wars this country seems intent on getting involved in. All his others ideas? Wackyville. The novelty of Ron Paul has worn off on me. He was cute at first, now he's just tiresome.

Let the games begin!

The Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney Show

2012-01-21T17:31:00.002-05:00

Yep, that's me - Out of It

Missed me? I've been gone for a few days. I usually blog everyday but I've been off track the past few days. If I stay away too long then I tend not to blog at all so I'm forcing myself to post at least something today.

I have many blog posting subjects twirling (thanks Herman Cain for the resuscitation of the word "twirling") in my head but I don't feel well enough to give them their proper due feeling like I do today. I think my rant against Comcast a few days ago pretty much drained me (not stop that!)

For the past three weeks I've been fighting a cold. The worst of it was last week. I think it is gone only to wake up in the morning with a big frog in my throat and feeling the blahs. I have been entertained somewhat by the Republican Clown Show in South Carolina. I'm loving seeing Mitt "Mittens" Romeny squirm and twist about releasing his tax returns, which I am sure will show he is PAYING NOTHING!

I'm not a Newt Gringrich fan but I did like him handing Jon King of CNN his head when King opened up the GOP debate with a question about Gringrich's open marriage with his second wife (like there is something THE MATTER with an open marriage?) Hey, there is nothing like a Scorned Woman and a self important pompous ass for a good show. And, I'm not one of these right wing nuts who hates anything about The Media (I watch MSNBC ALL THE TIME "for Pete's sake") but I don't' like Jon King, he of the big head and little stumpy body who thinks all his questions are history making. Jon Kin walked right into the Newtser Shredder and I loved it!

Now I'm on a roll. What's the deal with Romney not releasing his tax returns? I know what it is, he isn't paying taxes! I am certain of it. And while we're on the Romney subject, what's the deal with NONE of his FIVE sons ever serving a DAY in the military? Five big strapping dudes and NOT ONE OF THEM SERVED A DAY IN THE MILITARY? Romney was asked about that last year and he gave one of his patented Romney Answers "Well, they help me on my campaign which is the SAME THING." NO IT'S NOT MITT! Are you kidding? This is the problem with Mittens. He honestly thinks it IS THE SAME THING.

The Romney Clan - Not one son served in the military. What? Are they too good?

Continuing my roll with my Romney Rant, what the deal with strapping his Irish Setter (Seamus) on the ROOF OF HIS CAR while the Romney Clan made their annual 12-hour trek to Canada some years ago? For Pete's sake, the dog shit himself (it dribbled down the back window of their van, Romney pulled over to a gas station and hosed Seamus down and put him right back up on the roof of their car), and yet Romney says "He enjoyed himself." How does Romney know what that dog was thinking?

Hey, now I'm back in the groove now! I'm gonna end this rant and check out the results of the South Carolina Primary. I'm in the mood to see the Newtser win this thing and make the Republican presidential race really interesting. Go ahead and admit it, wouldn't you like to see Obama and Newt debate?

Why Big Companies Fail

2012-01-19T11:20:00.001-05:00

This morning I heard the news that Eastman Kodak filed for bankruptcy. Yes, you heard it right. Eastman Kodak, the Goliath of the photo industry has failed. Eastman Kodak, the company that discovered digital cameras wasn't smart enough to figure out that the future was digital photography. Basically put, the high salaried executives couldn't get their heads out of their asses and let their company fail.

I'm reading Steve Job's biography now. It is a very insightful book, not only about Steve Jobs personality (he was an asshole) but about his frustration with dealing with companies like Eastman Kodak who couldn't or wouldn't get their heads out of their asses because of arrogance, inertia and incompetence.

I am typing this blog on a Steve Jobs product, an iMac computer. I use an iPhone. I also use an iPad. These are almost perfect consumer products in that they are very user friendly and ahead of the curve in anticipating the consumer's need in the 21st century. Whatever Steve Jobs personal failings as a Feel Good manager of people (he was terrible), at least he had a vision of where and how consumer products and customer service should be in this day and age.

This morning I experienced another example of corporate arrogance, hubris, and incompetence. Last January I signed up with Comcast for my Internet service. Previously I had Verizon (yet another example of corporate arrogance, hubris, and incompetence) but I discontinued their DSL service because it was so unreliable and slow. My only other choice was Comcast, the local monopoly.

Me with my Comcast paperwork, ready to sink into the Labyrinth of Frustration with phone calls this morning

I did not want to use Comcast because of my previous dealings with them when I moved into my new home in November of 2006. I won't bore you the reader of my nightmare experience of just trying to get service set up on my new house but suffice it to say I was glad to be done with them. I signed up with Verizon, and while they didn't have the arrogance of a monopoly company their customer service wasn't much better (too automated) and it was SLOW. Rarely a week went by that I didn't lost my Internet service at least once. After several years of constantly rebooting my modem and going through the Menu Hell of calling Verizon, I finally relented and signed up with Comcast in January of 2011.

Last March I got my first bill in the mail. Of course it was wrong. They charged me too much. I called them (another Menu Hell by the way) and they said I wouldn't be receiving a bill because I had a credit. Okay.

The months roll by. Then I got to thinking last November "That credit must have been fulfilled by now." I still haven't received a bill. I checked my credit card billing.Yep, there it is. They're charging my credit card. Funny, I don't remember giving authorization for that.

I meant to call them but with my Prostate Drama and the holidays rushing upon me I didn't get around to it until just this morning. I call to find out why I'm not receiving a paper bill. Yep, I was in Telephone Menu Hell again.

I heard that Comcast is losing about half a million customers a year. I heard that they were "doing" customer service now. Hey, BIG WHOOP! So I call expecting to get an immediate answer to my phone call like I do when I call Apple support. HA! Foolish boy Ron! I go through the menu options. You know how it works. "1 for something, 2 for something else, etc." I finally choose "4 for other." Then I"m on hold. No surprise here. So I stay on hold for about ten minutes and finally I get someone. I tell her my problem. "Why am I not getting a paper bill?" She tells me that I'm getting "e-bills." Funny thing about that, I don't remember authorizing "e-bills." I asked her where the e-bills are going. She tells me to my e-mail account. I tell her that I don't get any Comcast e-bills to my e-mail account (which is AOL). She tells me they go to my Comcast e-mail account. Oh, and what account might that be? I didn't know I had one.

She tells me I have to talk to Internet support. Okay. She transfers me. Yep, you guessed it. I got a long silence then a message from the telephone operation "If you would like to make a call...." OH I'M NOT SURPRISED. Comcast hung up on me. And not for the first time either.

So I hang up and go through all the menu options until I get someone in the Internet department. After another fifteen minutes I get someone. I explain my problem and she tells me that she can't help me because she is in billing. Yep, I'm back to Square One again folks!

Me patiently waiting on hold - at least I wouldn't be talking to someone from India

I patiently explain to her (barely surpressing my anger and frustration because I KNEW this would happen) and tell her I want to find out what my Comast e-mail account is so I CAN SEE MY BILLS! I told her I've already been through the Phone Transfer thingy this morning so DON'T TRANSFER me to a dial tone.

She transfers me to another number and I wait another 10 minutes then I finally get someone. We're going on 45 minutes now folks just to find out where my bills are. This is why I didn't call last November. I knew this would be an ORDEAL.

I talk to the new person. I explain to her that I don't know what my Comcast e-mail account is but I would like to check my bills but I don't want Comcast to be my default e-mail account on my computer. You know how that works with these companies, you check into them and the next thing you know Bing is your default search engine and not Google.

She assures me that Comcast won't be my default e-mail account unless I choose it. She walks me through how to get to my Comcast e-mail account, providing me with a password which I didn't know I had.

I get to the Comcast e-mail and yep, it is not a user friendly e-mail site. No surprise here. Except for Apple and Discovercard, most Internet sites are notoriously non-user friendly.

With the Comcast representative on the phone (and she didn't sound happy probably because I didn't sound happy), we go into my e-mail account. Only last month's bill is there. Uh, how about LAST YEAR'S bills. Oh, for that I have to do to Comcast's website under "ACCOUNTS". We're up to an hour on the phone now folks. Just to find out my bills.

After some more laborious searching around their Internet site I finally found my bills from last year. Yep, they were e-billed. I asked her why I was e-billed without my permission. She said that the (excuse me, I just got an automated call from Comcast to answer a Customer Satisfaction Survey)...I'm back.

She told me that the customer service technician who installed my Comcast equipment last January should she explained to me that I would be e-billed through my Comcast e-mail account. You know what? He might have explained that to me and maybe I missed it. I don't think so. But I could be wrong. One thing he did do, he installed the equipment in a timely manner and my Internet provider service is MUCH BETTER than it was with Verizon. Since last January I only had to reboot my modem once which was a VAST IMPROVEMENT over Verizon's service.

But still, sloppy customer service by not informing my of the way I would be billed. And then I still had to jump through all these hoops this morning just to get it straightened out.

Comcast may be on a new path to improving their customer service but quite frankly, after this experience I don't see it. I get a better Internet connection with them (faster than Verizon but still not as fast as FIOS that I had at my home in Pennsylvania) but there is no excuse for this laborious procedure that I had to go through this morning just to get a paper bill in the mail.

I think big companies fail because sometimes they get too big. They're like a huge ship, they can't turn around without sinking the whole ship. They're especially prone to failure when they become a virtual monopoly without competition because the first thing that goes is customer service and the first thing that appears is the arrogance and the "take it or leave it attitude."

I hope Apple never gets like that. Steve, I miss you already.

Alone

2012-01-18T10:51:00.000-05:00

I don't want to be alone. Bill went to the VA this morning. That is usually a half day affair because the Wilmington VAMC is 89 miles way from where we live in southern Delaware. Bill catches the American Legion Post 28 van at 6 am in the morning. There are other vets in the van. They all have appointments in the morning at the VA. Usually the appointments are finished at 11 or 12 pm then they all load into the van and take the hour and a half trip back to their homes in Sussex County, Delaware.

When Bill goes on these trips to the VA in Wilmington is the only time I am alone in the house. Bill is always here. I kid him about it but I am glad he is here all the time because I don't want to be alone.

In a way I relish the time he is away because I can do things I normally wouldn't do when he is here. This morning I shampooed all the rugs in the house. What a job that was! I'll hear it from him but I dare not shampoo rugs when he is here because I'll never hear the end of it. So I take my opportunities where I can.

Bill and I have been living together since February of 1965. Prior to Bill I lived by myself for a couple of years in Coatesville, PA. I had an efficiency apartment. I was on my own. I didn't have to explain anything to anybody. I came and went as I pleased. And I was very lonely. I was a Lonely Boy.

Then along came Bill. He used to visit me in my apartment on the weekends from his home in New Jersey which was two hours away. Every weekend he would visit me. Then the trips became he would pick me up and take me to his apartment in Pennsuaken, New Jersey. Yes, he would make the trip to Coatesville, PA to pick me up, take me to his apartment, then take me back to Coatesville, then drive home. Who else would do that for me? I have that answer...NO ONE.

Eventually Bill asked me to move in with him. After some reluctance I agreed. It was the best decision I ever made in my life. Of course over the past forty-seven years of living together (in two apartments and three houses), I have thought about living by myself. At times it seemed attractive but when it actually happens, like this morning, I realize I don't want to live alone.

Bill and I are at the age now where that one of us might be living alone sometime in the future. It will probably be me because Bill is 83 and I'm 70 years old. Neither one of us are spring chickens.

I think about the possibility of living alone more often these days that I did in my Carefree Youth. To be very honest, it scares the hell out of me. Oh sure, I could find someone to live with me but there will never be another Bill. No one who cares of me the way he does nor someone I would care for. At my age I'm a prime Sugar Daddy target or another single Old Guy. Neither will work with me. You know what they say about us old guys being set in their ways? IT'S TRUE! I could never live with anybody else. Never.

So here I am, wondering what the future will bring. I guess I'll have to get a Little Buddy like a cat or a Pomeranian dog. Yes, that's what I'll do. Being alone sucks.

My friend Larry yesterday on FaceTime with one of his "friends", Canterbury the Cat
I'll ask him if he has a spare cat when that time comes

"Hilly"

2012-01-17T23:34:00.000-05:00

As I wrote in a previous post on the movie "The Help", I was pleasantly surprised by all the performances in this movie. Perhaps the biggest surprise was by the actress who played the part of "Hilly."

I did not know who the actress was when I was watching the movie but she was so good that at the end of the movie I went on the Internet to find out who she was. Much to my surprise she was Bryce Dallas Howard. You so you don't know who Bryce Dallas Howard is? Well, perhaps you know who "Opie" is?

Remember "Opie" of the old "Andy Griffith Show?"

She, Bryce Dallas Howard is the daughter of Ron Howard, the former child actor and now very well respected director!

Who knew?

Steve Jobs - Meaning of Life

2012-01-17T12:07:00.002-05:00

Steve Jobs biography I am reading now

The BIG QUESTION of life is "What is the meaning of life?" I think I have the answer. Actually, Steve Jobs had the answer.

This is a quote from his commencement speech at Stanford University in June of 2005 after he was informed that he had a fatal cancer and would most likely die soon.

Steve usually got someone to write his speeches, in this case he tried to get the brilliant scriptwriter Aaron Sorkin (A Few Good Men, The West Wing) but Adam wasn't available so Steve wrote this speech himself.

It is perhaps the most perfect commencement address because of its artful minimalism, simplicity, purity and charm. I quote this speech from his biography (by Walter Isaacson) that I am now currently reading.

"Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encounter to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything---all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure---these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart."

Something to think about. Follow your heart, do what you believe in and do not concern yourself with what others think of you. Be true to yourself.

This is interesting because I over the weekend I watched "The Help" three times. Those women also followed their hearts and did what they believe in. We may not live forever but at least while we are here we might as well make our mark and leave the world a better place than it was when we arrived.

I for one will be forever grateful to Steve Jobs because in spite of all his all too human frailties, shortcomings and flaws he left this world a much better place for millions of people, including me.

Thank you Steve.

See a resemblance? I do

Prostate Update

2012-01-16T09:04:00.001-05:00

Me on the beach last summer (in my Spo Shirt) , I'll be back this year

As regular readers of this blog know, for the past several months I have been going through my own Prostate Cancer Drama.

This past summer the results of a routine blood test at the VA showed that my PSA score was very high. It was 8.4. The range should be 0-4 so I was quite a bit above average.

My doctor notified me immediately and suggested that I either make an appointment with a urologist at the VA (which would be in Wilmington, DE - 89 miles away) or a local urologist. I elected to go with a local urologist in case I decided to undergo treatment for prostate cancer.

I made an appointment and saw a local urologist. The first thing he told me was:

"Mr. Tipton, I want you to understand that a man your age (I am 70), that if you do have prostate cancer the odds are that you will probably die from some other cause."

Of course my first reaction to the phrase "A man your age..." was to turn around and look over my shoulder to see what OLD MAN he was talking to. Then I realized he was talking to me!

Then he said "Do you wish to go forward?"

I thought about it for a minute or two then I said I did. He proceeded to give me a digital rectal exam. Whenever I have one of these exams I think we should at least have ONE DATE prior to the "exam" but we didn't have time for that.

After what seemed like a LONG TIME "up there", he pulled out his latex covered forefinger and announced "Your prostate is smooth and soft. If it was hard (and he indicated this by tapping his knuckle) or I felt something on it, then we have some concern"

Great! So I was prostate cancer free? Not so quick the good doctor seemed to say by his facial reaction. He told me my "Free PSA Count" (whatever that is) was high.

He again asked me if I wanted to continue? Again, after thinking about it for a few seconds, I said "Yes."

I arranged an appointment for a biopsy of my prostate gland. This is a procedure where the doctor takes out twelve pieced of my walnut sized prostate gland to check and see if they are cancerous.

After I left his office I started to ask around friends and relatives who have had this kind of experience with their prostate gland. As expected I got many different stories, each situation is unique. I checked the Internet (which doctors hate for you to check) and I read the stories that perhaps the PSA score and the treatments that follow treating potential prostate cancer haven't made a significant difference in preventing prostate cancer deaths. My mind had a lot of information to sift through before I made my final decision.

About a week before my scheduled prostate biopsy in December (19th) I cancelled the appointment. Then a week later, after reading more information I rescheduled another appointment for a prostate biopsy. This one was to take place January 6th, 2012. All during this time my mind was still unsettled if I was doing the right thing. I just wasn't feeling right about taking this step. Something was holding me back.

I cancelled my January 6th appointment for prostate biopsy. I think this had as much to do with the fact that my cousin Steve Tipton was scheduled to have his prostate glad removed only to discover that when he went to a different surgeon that he didn't have prostate cancer but instead had a prostate infection called prostatitis! He went back to his original doctor, who of course was angry that he went to another doctor, and after rechecking the MRI's, confirmed that my cousin Steve did not indeed have prostate cancer. And here Steve was going to have his prostate removed!

The second incident that caused me to rethink my prostate biopsy (which is a very invasive procedure) was a meeting I had at a Christmas dinner at a friend's house in Pennsylvania. This man was the new boyfriend of Ruth, who was a longtime friend of mine. She knew of my Prostate Drama and she told me that her friend had had his prostate removed. She also told me that he is now wearing Depends...for the rest of his life!

So here is the deal folks. Besides the risk of getting an infection from the biopsy procedure (and I do have a history of getting infections from hospital procedures, one of which almost resulted in my death at 17 years of age), the possible side effects of prostate cancer treatment are:

impotence
urinary problems (can't control your peeing thus Depends)
bowel problems

Some choice huh? Frankly, I don't need to deal with any of these situations.

After the Christmas dinner I made the decision not to go through with the prostate biopsy. If I do have prostate cancer (which the high PSA score doesn't necessarily mean that I do), I'll just have to live with it.

I felt relieved after I made this decision but still there was that little nagging thing that "The cancer may be groaning Ron, you're going to die." Of course I'm going to die. We're all going to die. Most of us just don't know what we're going to die from. But I did make the final decision not to take that downward spiral of medical procedures that had a good possibility of me suffering more from the treatment of a cancer which I may or may not have than the actual cancer.

Then last week I received a note from the brother of an old friend. He informed me that his brother died in October. His brother was the man who hired me at Girard Bank back in 1965. We became friends over the years but had lost touch except for the annual Christmas card, the past ten years or so.

I called his brother on Saturday to ask his cause of death and where was he buried. He told me that his brother died of prostate cancer. He said his brother had been treated for prostate cancer thirteen years ago (with implanted seeds). He said his brother began losing weight this past year (40 pounds, he wasn't heavy to begin with) but the doctors couldn't figure out why. They misdiagnosed him. They didn't find out he had prostate cancer until after his death. He said that his brother's prostate glad was "had a lot of scar tissue". This was form the radioactive seeds.

Here is the interesting part. His brother was 83 years old when he died. Thirteen years ago, when he got his radioactive seed treatment for his prostate cancer he would have been 70 years old, the same age as I am now.

Here is the question. Did the prostate cancer treatment delay his death from prostate cancer or have no effect? They don't know and I don't know. What I do know is that if I live to 83 years old I will feel that I've had a good, long life. In fact, now at 70 years old I feel as if I've had a good long life. If I died tomorrow, I have no regrets. I have far outlived many of my relatives, friends and co-workers. I am literally living on Bonus Time now and I am thankful for it. I just don't feel the need to risk my quality of life to treat something that neither I nor the doctors are sure that I have.

Now here are the latest developments. Since that original blood test where I had the high PSA score of 8.4, I had another blood test at the urologist's office and it was 5.1. Still high. Last December I had another blood test at the VA in Wilmington. That score was 4.4! On January 4th I had another blood test at the VA office in Georgetown, DE. That score was again 4.4! Sill over the preferred limit of 4.0 but NOT THAT MUCH! Now the VA is telling me not to concern myself with a followup with a urologist because my PSA score is "within the range." My PSA score may still be high but at least I'm going in the right direction!

So here is the deal folks, I may or may not have prostate cancer. If I do then it is one of the slowest growing cancers and I will probably die of something else. If I don't, I'll still die of something else. One thing is for sure though, I'm not going to undergo any procedure that will result in me spending the rest of my life dealing with the side effects of the procedure.

I'll be around for a few more blog posts. I'm not ready to go quietly into the night just yet.

Video below is me showing my brother how my iPhone works. I'll be doing a lot more of Big Brother Showing Little Brother How Things Work in the future.

Richard C. Thomas

2012-01-15T18:18:00.001-05:00

Every year I send out over one hundred Christmas cards, most of them to former co-workers, friends and relatives that I do not see during the year because of geography. Sending out these Christmas cards is also a way I keep track of who among these folks is still living and who has passed on.

The last couple of years I have received sad notes from relatives of some of my Christmas card recipients informing me of their passing. This year was no exception. This week I received a short note from Bob Thomas, the brother of one of my Christmas card recipients who I did not receive a card from this year.

He informed me that his brother Dick had died on October 2, 2011.

Dick Thomas was the personnel officer who hired me to begin work at Girard Bank in Philadelphia in March of 1965. A long, long time ago. Dick worked in personnel (prior to the "Human Resources" days) for several years before he became a trust department officer. I worked in trust operations. We worked together for twenty two years. After I left the bank I maintained my friendship with Dick.

Dick and me at lunch 1986 - Philadelphia, PA

Dick had a "Gentleman's Farm" in Honey Brook, Pennsylvania, not far from where Bill and I lived in "Whispering Pines" (the name Bill and I gave our 6.875 acre wooded paradise outside of Downingtown, PA). I would often visit Dick at his farm which was about ten miles up the road from where we lived.

Dick lived in a grand old country farmhouse with a lot of history. He took care of about thirty feral cats who would gather about his property, seeking food and shelter in his barn. He loved that place.

Dick's cats wait to be fed

Thus, another piece of the mosaic of my life has passed on.

I called Bob yesterday to talk to him and to find out the manner of his brother's death. He told me that Dick had died of prostate cancer. He also told me that they honored Dick's wishes. Dick was cremated and his ashes scattered over his property that he loved so much.

Rest in peace Dick.

Harold (another friend) and Dick at Dick's property in Honey Brook, PA 1980

The Help

2012-01-15T11:29:00.001-05:00

Remember what good movies used to be like? You fell in love with the characters (or hate)? You became totally absorbed in the stories and when the movie ended you felt like a better person?

So few movies like that these days. I can't tell you how many movies I've gotten from Netflix, only to eject them from my DVD recorder because they were too violent, stupid and offensive (like "The Bridesmaids"), or poorly cast (why is Brad Pitt in just about EVERY major movie).

Last night was the exception. I watched "The Help". I had heard a lot about this movie and frankly, was expecting an overly sentimental version of "Poor Blacks Mistreated By Evil Whites." Well, I'm glad to say I was WRONG.

This movie had everything. Perfect casting from Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, Emma Stone, Allison Janney, and (surprise of all surprises) Bryce Dallas Howard; daughter of the former child actor and now successful director Ronnie Howard! I didn't know who she was until the end of the film. Boy was I surprised because usually children of actors aren't that good. Bryce has it!

One of my biggest disappointments in movies is that movies that have a good story are poorly cast. Studios usually go with the tried and true so as not to take any chances with the box office. This movie, all the casting was perfect even down to the smallest role. This is so unlike American movies. I usually only see balanced casting like this in foreign made films, especially British films. It was so refreshing to see the American actors in this film not be threatened by the smaller roles played by excellent actors and actresses.

Which brings up another point I want to make. I didn't realize until I was finished watching this movie that it was a "Woman's Movie." All the major roles are women! I loved it. Not that there weren't some good male roles too but they were minor.

The Academy Award suspense is over-
Octavia Spencer - Best Supporting Actress
Viola Davis - Best Actress

And another tip of my hat to the casting director because she (or he) got the two young male parts just right. Both of the guys are Southern Eye Candy. I grew up in the Sixties (not in the South) but My Bill (my partner) is from the South (Georgia).

Bill grew up in the late Twenties and Thirties. Not the time period of this film but his household also had a black housekeeper who he loved. When Bill grew up he left home and joined the service. He was in the service for nine years until he had to leave to take care of his ailing mother. After her funeral he suggested to his family that they give his mother's old cloths to their former maid. His sister vehemently protested. I won't repeat what she said but it was as bad as you could imagine.

Bill left Georgia and his family that day and returned home to the North (New Jersey) where he lived at that time. I met him about a year later (1964). When I met him he said he had no family. It wasn't until many years later that I found out why. He had cut off communication with his family because of that ugly incident.

He probably won't like me putting this on my blog and I'll probably have to take it out when he reads it but I feel responsible for putting it out there that not all white folks in the South had the attitude towards 'the help" that Hilly had in this movie. I am proud to say that this is the man I have lived with for the past forty-seven years, a man of character.

Hilly would not have liked him.

Help a Friend Move Day

2012-01-14T17:38:00.000-05:00

Yesterday Bill and I helped a friend move to his new home in Lewes, DE. Yep, that's us, TWO OLD GUYS MOVERS, Inc.

We packed up the small items in our friend's kitchen of his old home in Milton. As we were wrapping the dishes with old newspapers and wondering how many canned vegetables we could pack into a box without the bottom falling out, Bill and I were remembering the Bad Old Days when we packed our Precious Kitchen Things from our home in Pennsylvania and moved them to Delaware. Not exactly pleasant waves of nostalgia swept over us, that's for sure.

After we stuffed the back of Bill's Jeep Cherokee, we rolled down Rt. 1 for the three mile trip to our friend's new home in Lewes. A MUCH shorter distance than the 125 miles that we used to make our trips from our former home in Pennsylvania to Milton five years ago.

I'm glad our friend asked us to help him move. I love new checking out new homes and his is a winner! All one floor living with two master suites on the first floor and a full bedroom and bathroom in the basement. Just right for the Visiting Nieces and family in the summer.

Bill and I enjoyed helping our friend move yesterday but it did remind us that we're NEVER MOVING AGAIN. The next time I move it will be feet first out of my house.

One good thing with helping our friend move yesterday, I was so hyped up when I got home that I finally tackled those three cabinets in my kitchen that I hadn't touched since our move FIVE YEARS AGO. I spent about three hours last night taking everything out of those cabinets that I had hastily stuffed five years ago. I found some missing Kitchen Goodies (so that's where I put the rolling pins)! I filled up a BIG box for the local thrift store and put the rest back in the newly lined shelves. I showed Bill the Surprise this morning. For years (five actually) I've been promising to clean out those cabinets and I actually did! I am so proud of myself. It about killed me (boy did I ever sleep good last night) but I did it. Man does it feel good.

Will You Marry Me?

2012-01-12T09:23:00.002-05:00

Bill is not happy about being outed

This morning, on bended knee, still weak from my week long bout with a cold/flu, I asked Bill to marry me. He accepted!

After forty-seven years, we're going to make it legal...sort of. As of January 1st this year, Delaware now has in place a civil union law that same sex couple can marry. I'm not sure is the world "marry" is exactly right but that is the word I'm using.

There he is, my Life Partner and Best Friend - Bill

While this new law is little more than a feel-good law for same sex couples, it does provide some statewide protection for hospital visits, insurance benefits within the state, and some inheritance rights. We are still a long way from truly equality that our heterosexual counterparts take for granted every day of their lives.

Bill isn't going to like me writing about this, and usually I accede to his requests but this time I'm writing about our situation anyway. Bill is a very private person. And he is of the old school of gays when they are called "homosexuals" and you were not seen nor heard from lest you offend the straights. Of course anyone who knows me, know that I am the exact opposite. I make no apologies nor do I accept being discounted as an American citizen or human being because I just happened to be born gay. If anyone has a problem with me being gay it is their problem, not mine. Of course this attitude has gotten me into a lot of trouble over the years but that is my lot in life. I accept the challenges and deal with them as they come. Most battles I have won, but I have lost a few battles including two job just for the very fact that I was known to be gay and didn't disown that fact.

Now how are we going to handle the details of ACTUALLY getting married? Bill didn't want me writing anything about it on my blog. Good luck there Bill! No way I'm not writing about it. I'm not sending out wedding announcements though.

After the "me first" fervor of the local gay couples dies down, Bill and I will take a trip to Georgetown, the local county seat. We have a justice of the peace who has made it known in the local newspapers he doesn't approve of same sex couples but he is performing the ceremonies anyway because he wants to keep his job. Hey justice of the peace! It's called the LAW! Obey it!

Double click to enlarge

I know of other couple who are traveling to Kent County or New Castle County were they will receive a friendlier reception of the local officials who are also obeying the new law of civil unions for same sex couples. Not me, why should I go out of my way just to accommodate this guy who DOESN'T APPROVE?

Now I'm not going to get into all the arguments of "this will ruin the institution of marriage" by allowing same sex couples to marry (most of my best straight friends are of this opinion by the way), because that is just a waste of my time. There are some people whose minds you will never change and I'm not going to waste one more minute of my time trying to make them "accept me." I'm 70 years old and I'm tired of these people and I'm tired of dealing with this attitude Tired.

So some day, maybe next month, Bill and I will take the short ride down Rt. 9 to Georgetown and jump through the whatever hoops necessary to finally get some legal protection and community recognition that we too are a loving and committed couple who contribute to our community and provide a better place on this earth for us all to live. We're all in this together folks, get used to it!

Brad - An Old Affair Remembered

2012-01-11T11:46:00.005-05:00

Brad waiting for the bus (with our luggage) on a Provincetown, Mass. St. July 1980

Yep, I still have my cold. It seems to morph through different stages like a Michael Jackson video. I just hope I don't end up the way he did in his "Thriller" video, a werewolf! I felt like one when I woke up this morning.

Maybe some of you are wondering what the picture above has to do with this blog posting. Well, here's the deal folks. I have literally THOUSANDS of photos from the 50's, 60's, 70's, 80's and 90's. I'm in the process of scanning them into my computer for a permanent digital record. I am convinced that when I depart this earth that all my hard copy photos will be tossed out in the trash so I'm copying as many as I can and posting them to either my blog or Facebook. Maybe some of those featured in the photos will appreciate them or even strangers will recognize the iconic value and the Capture in Time Moment that I recorded for posterity. Just leaving a trail behind folks to prove that I was here and had one hell of a good time!

The picture of above is of one of my Loves of My Life. His name was Brad. He was from Cincinnati. I was crazy about him and he was crazy about me for awhile until I started to smother him with attention. I tend to do that when I like someone, I smother them. I always got the same results, they fled.

Brad (without the shirt) and my friends Bob and Gino - we're getting ready to go on a sailboat

This picture was taken in July of 1980 on Bradford Street in Provincetown, Massachusetts. I met Brad in a bar in Philadelphia. Or rather he met me. I walked over to me and started to talk. I was quite the catch then (I guess). Well anyway, one thing led to another and we began a torrid affair. It lasted that summer of 1980.

Brad and me (on the right) - it got a little chilly out on that sailboat

A little toast out in the bay

Our affair began to cool off when he started to tramp around with others. I thought by taking him on a two week vacation to Provincetown (he had never been there before) that he would fall in love with me all over again. Didn't happen. After a few days and nights of enjoying the sights, sounds and pleasures of P-Town Brad met a married couple (man and woman) and took off with them. I didn't see him until it was time to leave P-town. Since I had the plane tickets (which I bought and paid for everything on OUR holiday), he thought it wise to show up on my doorstep to go home to Philadelphia. Apparently his ménage à trios partners weren't going to pay his way to take his ass back to Philadelphia, it was on me. Of course I forgave him. Didn't work. As soon as he got back to Philly, he started to tramp around again. I could write a book and maybe I will someday. So many stories Ron has to tell, so little time.

Do I look pissed? Well, I was!

Anyway, this picture is of him waiting for the bus to take us to the Provincetown airport. I think I had just chewed him out (no pun intended) and he was a bit miffed because he was STUCK with me (again, no pun intended).

Me at the Provincetown airport for a little sightseeing 1980

Yep folks, it's one of THOSE DAYS.

I hope this cold is gone tomorrow.

What Good Are Flu Shots?

2012-01-10T09:31:00.000-05:00

Me before flu shots - April 1977 - no bad colds

This is Week Two of my cold. After a telephone conversation with a guest who was making a hotel reservation tonight at the hotel, I have determined that I have the flu. She also has the flu. Has had it for the past two weeks and just wants to get away from her New Jersey home to the sunshine to our sunny little town of Lewes on the East coast of Delaware.

She said this is a new strain of flu that LASTS THREE WEEKS! She described all the symptoms:

Begins with a sore throat
Moves to the sinuses
Then a dry cough
Achy body
Exhaustion
Shortness of breath
Lethargy

Those symptoms are the same symptoms I have!

My whole past history of getting colds is that they last two to three days. I never get colds in my sinuses. I almost always get chest congestion. I know how my colds work. This one is different. I've never had a "cold" like this before.

Up until a few years ago I never got a flu shot. Last year I got a flu shot. I had the WORST COLD in my lifetime last year. I thought I was dying. For the first time in my life I had to go to a doctor because I feared that I would not recover. I was afraid to go to sleep because I couldn't breath. It was a good thing I went to the doctor because she said one of my lungs was full and the other was filling up. I was a few days away from Walking Pneumonia. Even though I felt like dying, that's how miserable I was, I survived after taking the antibiotics that my doctor prescribed.

So this year comes along and all the bombarding notices come out about "GET YOUR FLU SHOT!" So I got my flu shot at the VA Outpatient Clinic. A month goes by. Last week at this time I wake up with a slight sore throat. Uh oh. "Cold coming on Ron!"

I thoroughly expected this to be another typical "Ron Cold." I was wrong. Oh boy was I ever wrong.

I struggled through work at the hotel on Wednesday and Thursday with my cold. I looked forward to the weekend so I could recover. Lots of rest and sleep which I did. Then I get a call from my manager at the hotel. "Could I come into work this week on Monday and Tuesday in addition to my regular Wednesday and Thursday shift?" Of course I couldn't say "No." I got through last night and I'll get through tonight, tomorrow night and Thursday night. Hopefully by then my "cold" will be gone.

My question is, what good is it for me to get a flu shot? For the past two years, in spite of my flu shot, I've had the worst "colds" in my lifetime. Either this is a new strain of flu or else I'm getting the flu by the flu shot.

Next year I'm going to bypass the flu shot. I bet I don't get a cold. In the meantime I'm hitting the sack again until I have to go into work this afternoon.

Robert A. Zynn, Sr.

2012-01-09T10:35:00.004-05:00

Robert A. Zynn, Sr.
Sept. 1, 1940 - Jan 6, 2012

This weekend I was informed of the death of another classmate of mine, Bob Zynn. We both went to Downingtown High School, Downingtown, Pennsylvania. We were the Class of '59, the last of the Fifties.

Bob with is fellow agriculture students (he is the tall guy standing in the middle in the back) 1959

Just last week I stopped in the card store to stock up on sympathy cards. At my age (70) my friends and former classmates are starting to die with increasing frequency. Just since our last class reunion in 1999, four of my classmates and three of their spouses have died. With a week into the new year, already I'm addressing a sympathy card to the spouse of my friend Bob Zynn.

Bob (behind the grill holding the can) and me (red shirt to the right) and our fellow classmates at a reunion picnic in 2003 - another friend (man in the sunglasses on the left) also has passed on

Bob Zynn, who is featured in this blog posting was a neighbor of mine when Bill and I lived in Pennsylvania. Bill and I knew his Bob and his wife Sandy well. Bob and Sandy were on the class reunion committee as I was also.

Bob and his wife Sandy

I know it is the usual thing to say when someone passes on how wonderful they were. Sometimes that isn't always true. This is not the case with Bob Zynn. Bob was one of those rare individuals who was truly kind, caring and a real gentleman.

A reunion committee meeting - Bob is in the blue shirt to the left in the back - I'm in the front with the tanned knees

Bob was ill for about four years and his illness at times put a great hardship on his wife and family but through it all Bob remained the sweet and gentle guy that he always was.

Bob with fellow classmate Jean Swisher - always popular with the ladies

As one goes along in life we meet and interact with many people. Some bad, some good and then there are those people who are truly special people. Bob was one of those people. We wasn't famous and he wasn't rich but he had that indelible "something" that few have - he was a true gentleman. That is the first word that comes to my mind when I think of Bob.

Bob, always a smile and a laugh and kind eyes

Bob, thank you for being my friend.

Bob and I at our 40th Class reunion 1999

A Lovely January Day

2012-01-07T12:44:00.000-05:00

Bill a few minutes ago taking a breather from pulling up wire grass

This photo is of Bill that I took a few minutes ago (while he wasn't looking because he doesn't like his picture taken). Bill is working outside today! In his shirt sleeves!

He's trying to control the wire grass that is slowly taking over our green carpet lawn. A futile exercise to be sure but a good reason to get out today and enjoy this absolutely wonderful weather we're having this winter's day.

I was out for a short while cleaning up some of my flower beds but this cold that has a hold on me prevents me from partaking of the exceptionally mild weather we're having today. This whole winter has been glorious. I love it!

I'm going to have a light lunch then take a nice long nap in my super comfortable bedroom so I'll be all bright and attentive for tonight's Republican presidential candidate debate on Fox News. I stay away from Fox News but not tonight. The word is out that Newt Gringrich is out for Mitt Romney. There's World Wide Wrestling cage matches and then there is Newt Against Willard "Mitt" Romney, whose Super Pac negative ads knocked Newt off of his perch of leading the presidential candidates.

Newt is pissed, watch out Mitt! I think he's going to hand you your ass tonight.

Rick Santorum - Homophobe

2012-01-07T10:32:00.008-05:00

Rick Santorum is surging in the polls.

More people are starting to take Rick Santorum seriously. Some say "He's a nice guy."

Yes, this is the same Rick "Man on Dog" Santorum who equates same sex marriage with men marrying goats..THAT Rick Santorum.

Lest anyone get too caught up in the current euphoria over "nice guy" Rick Santorum, just remember this...he is an unapologetic HOMOPHOBE.

He truly believes that if same sex couple marry and receive the same tax benefits that heterosexual couples now take for granted that those same sex couple are getting "preferential tax treatment."

Rick Santorum is the same man who doesn't believe that same sex couple should raise children. He believes that the only viable environment to raise children is a traditional heterosexual man-woman parents.

I could site many more examples of the twisted way this man thinks but I won't in this post. This short video clip, taken a few days ago while Santorum was campaigning in New Hampshire, meeting with a student group, shows better than I can say the way this man thinks about equal rights for same sex couples and gays and lesbians. He cuts off any dialogue that doesn't agree with his strident ONE WAY ONLY thinking.

This man is dangerous! Don't let the sweater vests and the pearly teeth smile fool you.

This man is as much a bigot as if he was wearing a white sheet and carrying a flaming cross.

When Rick Santorum was in the Senate some of his fellow senators had a private joke about him. They said "Santorum" was Latin for asshole. They were right.

The student from the audience asks him about two men marrying. Right away Rick Santorum states "what about three men marrying?" When it is pointed out to him that that isn't the question, he cuts off the person. It is obvious that Santorum has a one track mind. He will not even listen to the ACTUAL question which is "WHY CAN'T TWO PEOPLE OF THE SAME SEX MARRY JUST LIKE A MAN AND A WOMAN?" No, he has to change the questions to one of polygamy which someone in the audience rightly pointed out to him was irrelevant to the question actually being asked. Santorum waves her off and gets back to his polygamy scenario. Then when he sees the discussion isn't going his preconceived way, he ends the discussion. This is why this man will never be elected president of the United States. He DOESN'T GET IT!

Sort of reminds you doesn't it when Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad casually brushed of a reporter's questions about gays in Iran by saying "We have no homosexuals in Iran" and was puzzled when the audience laughed at his answer.

Folks, I don't see a whole lot of difference between Mahmoud and Rick, they're both bigots.

I Have a Cold

2012-01-06T09:35:00.002-05:00

I was doing pretty good this year. Only a few hefty sneezes over the past few months expelling the cold/flu germ. Ah yes, I WAS doing so well.

Last week I was visiting a friend who returned from his home in Altoona, PA. He has many nieces and nephews. They have children. They have colds. He gets a cold. I got the cold.

I rarely get colds or the flu. Last year was the first time I got a cold so bad that I had to go to the doctor. I literally feared for my life. I couldn't breath. As the days went by I wasn't getting better. When I could no longer keep food down, I had Bill drag me to my doctor. She said I came just in time because one of my lungs was filled up with fluid (why I was having trouble breathing) and the other lung was on it's way. I had Walking pneumonia. She prescribed an anti-biotic and with a few more day's bed rest I was on my way to recovery.

Where did I get that cold from? A co-worker, who has children, who had colds. When I was working with her she was sniffing and sneezing and wheezing. After I returned from work she told me she had lost twenty pounds and also suffered from pneumonia. Thanks kids!

I notice that I only get bad colds when I'm around people who are around kids. Once I left my job at the bank and stopped traveling the commuter train to Philadelphia which was full of dads sneezing from their kid contacted colds, my cold catching day stopped. They only picked up when I began working at a hotel (the Hampton Inn in Lionville, PA this time) and one of my co-workers had a little Princess who always seemed to have a cold which she passed on to her mom who passed it on to me.

Cold carriers and spreaders - the little Darlins!
(photo is of MY COUSINS so don't get your panties in a twist)

So here I am in Gayberry, Delaware sans children. But ah, they got me anyway, through my friend with the nieces and nephews in Altoona, PA.

If you're reading this my friend (he has given me STRICT instructions to NEVER print his name in my blog) from Altoona, I'm not blaming you but I hope you'll understand that the next time I visit it won't be right after you visit the nieces and nephews. Nothing personal but I prefer to stay healthy.

This is no fun.

Why I Love Cats!

2012-01-05T11:07:00.001-05:00

I'm fighting off a cold, last night at the hotel for the second night in a row I had a "bite my tongue phone call" from a potential guest at the hotel who tried my patience almost to the limit, and recently I received a snarky reference about my blog postings being about an "Old Sage living in the past." I am not in the best mood today. Do I take this out on my readers by posting an equally hateful and negative blog posting today or do I post something fun and uplifting. I go for the uplifting post. Especially because a good friend of mine just lost his beloved feline companion yesterday. His cat, which was named "Simba", and he only had three legs but that didn't stop him from enjoying his cat life to the fullest.

My friend was told a few days ago this his pet's kidneys were failing and wouldn't last too much longer. My friend slept with him in their sunroom his last night. That touched my heart and it was the one positive thing that happened the past few days. I'll post this video which shows the delight in having a cat for a pet in honor of Simba.

"Simba" Christmas 2003 with my friend's daughter

Ryan Gosling on Jimmy Kimmel

2012-01-04T12:15:00.002-05:00

Busy day today. Got up early this morning to visit the Georgetown VA to get my blood taken. Another PSA test score. Hopefully this one is back in the normal range so I can dispense with that black cloud that has been hovering over my head since I first learned of my 8.4 PSA score six months ago. I was scheduled for a biopsy this Friday but I canceled it.

I can feel a major cold coming on. This isn't the sniffles but instead a Big One. As soon as I got back from the Georgetown VA Outpatient clinic, I had a bowl of cereal then off to bed for the rest of the morning. I just got up because I have to go into work tonight. I was called into work last night because my co-worker had a medical emergency. I also have to work tomorrow night.

I'll have a light lunch then back to bed to rest up for tonight. I'm not my normal self today. I want something to make me feel good. That something is a Dose of Ryan.

Here is a short clip of Ryan on the Jimmy Kimmel Show. The video clip reveals that not only is Ryan drop dead gorgeous and possess tons of sex appeal that makes me go weak in the knees (now stop that!), he has a wonderfully engaging personality. He makes me feel good.

If I died and went to heaven and found Ryan waiting for me, this would be my version of the 100 Virgins that await Muslim men who die as a martyr for their Cause.

Some may not see the Appeal of Ryan, I do. It's my blog and I'll post whatever I want. Don't expect any apologies from me for this post. I need to feel good today. Watching Ryan does that for me.

The New Year - Clean Up Time

2012-01-03T11:23:00.000-05:00

One of my useless items that won't be going to the thrift store

Just got back from the Encore Thrift store. I unloaded three boxes of books that I'll never read again in my lifetime. I have many more books to go. Some books I'm keeping just for sentimental value but I will be donating a lot of my books to Encore.

Finally, I am in the mood to do a Major Clean Out of Casa Tipton/Kelly. Maybe it's the demarcation line of the new year that has finally prompted me to stop putting off what I should have been doing the last five years, getting rid of a lot of stuff.

Every time I read my fellow blogger Mark's posts of his latest clean outs (one for each day of the year), I feel guilty. No more guilt! Now I vow to make at least one trip a week to the thrift store.

My "junk" falls into three categories:

Things I no longer have a use for and will never miss
Things I no longer have a use for and will miss
Things I no longer have a use for but can sell on eBay

This is the new year and I'm ready to go! This is exciting!

Just got a call asking me to come into work tonight. Here we go again.

Pom Rescue

2012-01-03T09:12:00.002-05:00

Results of a Google search for a Pom to rescue - no Poms here but suggestions to rescue other dogs

Whenever I post about getting a new Pomeranian dog, someone suggests checking out the Pom rescue organizations. That happened again yesterday.

I'm all for rescue organizations. I think they perform a wonderful service in providing loving homes for neglected and abused dogs. However, the "Pom Rescue" organizations don't work for me. Rarely if ever, is there a full blooded Pom for rescue. Almost always the "Poms" offered up for rescue are mixed breeds. A Pom/Chihuahua mix is not a Pomeranian dog. A Pom/Yorkshire is not a Pomeranian dog. The Pom mixes I've seen, don't even look like Pomeranian dogs.

I have a friend who adopted one of the "Poms". His dog has a flat face which is not a feature of a Pom. What he has is a Pekinese mix but he calls his dog a "Pom." He's happy so that's fine. However, I'm looking for a real Pomeranian. Call me a snob.

Thanks any for the suggestion. I know where I'll get my new buddy, from a Pom breeder.

Horace

2012-01-02T20:34:00.002-05:00

Ron and Horace January 1984

The new year is here. Do we say "twenty-twelve" or "two-oh-one-two?" Personally I go for the "twenty-twelve.

I'm feeling pretty good about this year. I have everything in place. The mortgage is paid off. I'm settled in my job. I've made all my health decisions. I have (some) money in the bank for a cushion in case of emergency.

Bill's health is pretty good (for an 83 year old man). We're happy and contented. Oh sure, we still have our little flare-ups but that is part and parcel of our relationship. Fire and ice. Water and oil. We are so different that we're a total match. Just like Ying and Yang (look it up).

All is not perfect in Ron Land though. I do miss having a Little Buddy. After our last little dog died (Horace, who is pictured above) in 1998, Bill decided that we would never get another dog because their loss is just too hard to bear.

We have had a total of five Pomeranian dogs. We had two when we lived in Philadelphia. They were Hamburger and Sparky. Perhaps not the most original names but they fit those two pooches perfectly.

Christmas 1970 in Philadelphia with Hamburger and Sparky - our first two Poms

Shortly after we moved to Downingtown, PA in 1981, both of them died. At that time Bill didn't want to get any more dogs. However, one day I brought a little orange fluff of fur home on the train from work at my banking job in Philadelphia. I made the mistake of stopping in a pet shop after seeing this orange fluff frolicking in the pet shop window. After I sent in the store to inquire as to how much something like that would cost (believe me, I had NO INTENTION of buying him) the store owner said "Here, hold him." That did it of course. I walked out of the store with him in a box, back to my job. I was on lunch break.

I put the puppy and the box he was in behind my desk until the end of the day's work. He was quiet the whole time. What a dog! I took him and the cardboard pet carrier that he was on in the train home to Downingtown. Of course there were no pets allowed on the train. So I had to smuggle him on the train.

After having spent four or more hours in the cardboard pet carrier he started to whimper. I put my hand in the box and he stopped. I kept my hand in the box for the hour ride home.

Bill picked me up at the train station. As I was getting in the car he said "What's in the box?" I told him that I got a dog. He said "WHAT?! Of course he told me that I had to take him back.

I knew what I had to do. When we got home I asked Bill to hold him. That did it.

Bill and Horace - after I asked Bill to hold him - how could he resist?

This little orange fluff that I picked up in a pet shop for $300 in the spring of 1983 I named "Horace." He was my best friend for 16 years. He was the only dog I had that picked me as his master. Our family has had pets and Bill and I had dogs before but they always picked someone else. Horace picked me.

Me and my buddy Horace - the Next Day after his arrival

Horace died in 1998. His death was one of the few times in my life that I broke down into a full blown painful, collapsing cry. I had lost my best friend. I lost my Companion for Life.

Horace at his favorite spot - my lap

Someday, if I'm lucky I'll try to hit the jackpot again and look for another buddy like Horace. We were inseparable.

An Old Horace - a few months before he died -1998

The picture at the top of this blog was taken in January 1984, twenty-eight years ago. I want that unconditional love again. I believe I will have it...someday.

Horace loved to go for a ride - this was one of his last

After the Holidays

2012-01-01T17:33:00.001-05:00

You're coming down today baby.

Now can we get back to normal? That is, now that we're done with the annual Orgy of Pagan Holidays that masquerade as Christian Holidays, can we get back to normal?

Hey, I love the annual cultural traditions we have in this country as much as anybody else but don't you think that the period from October 31st (Halloween) to January 1st (New Year's) is just a bit much?

We seem to take leave of our senses and indulge in an orgy (there's THAT word again) of excess. Whether it be bringing out the Christmas decorations two weeks before Halloween or the madness of Black Friday which doesn't even begin on Black Friday now. What has happened to us folks?

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of things I like about THE HOLDAYS but here are some that I detest:

Most of the regular TV goes into early reruns. I like "Judge Judy" but I only need to see the episodes once. They lose something the second time around.
Most of the A-list television personalities take off for various Caribbean resorts or skiing in Vail, Utah. I for one am SO TIRED of seeing the pot-bellied William Shatner splashing around in the tropical waves off of Mustique or the has-been Melanie Griffiths trudging around the ski-lines in her muck lucks (or whatever they call those big furry shoes that the females stars wear).
And PUH-LEZZ! NO MORE "The Top Ten Whatever's" of the past year. I don't need to know that. We've been there, done that...let's move on.

Oh I know, I promised to start posting POSITIVE this year but I have to vent again. Every year it's the same thing. We go through this national craziness of THE HOLDAYS.

Well, I for one am GLAD that it is over. FINIS. FINUTO.

Now let's get back to Normal. So who do you think will win the Iowa Caucuses? Not that whatever Iowa does matters in the big picture but it's always fun to see some of these clowns knocked down a notch or two by being THOROUGHLY REJECTED. Hey, maybe we'll even see some tears when the caucusing is over. We can only hope.

Happy New Year 2012

2011-12-31T22:27:00.000-05:00

In a few hours a new year will arrive. It just seems like a few months ago that I welcomed in 2011. The years are flying by! I was warned that the older I got, the fast the years would fly by.

I remember when I turned 21 years old. I was in the Army at the time and I was so anxious to become "legal." I also remember one of my "older" Army buddies (Herb was his name, he even had an old name) said "Don't push it Ron. Once you turn 21 the years go by fast." Herb, the "old man", was 26 years old.

Since that day forty-nine years ago, time has flown by. So much has happened in my life, mostly for the good. In fact, almost all of it has been good. A few scary times and even a few times I didn't want to continue but overall, I've had a pretty good life.

The picture at the top of this post was taken by me on my iMac this past Monday, December 26th. I set up a fancy, fancy background that didn't quite come out the festive way I intended but I'm going to go with it anyway.

I probably won't be awake when Dick Clark mumbles in "Happy New Year!" (is he doing it this year? I haven't heard). I'll be fast asleep. Yes boys and girls; the days of trolling the gay bars in center city Philadelphia are long gone. These days this old gay guy will be fast asleep by the time the sparkly ball drops in Times Square.

So I will take this occasion to wish all my blogger friends a very happy new year. In fact I'm going to even with my former blogger friends, who dropped by the wayside this past year, a happy new year (you know who you are). And to those of my friends who know me personally, I wish you a happy new year too even though some of you don't approve of my blog postings and rarely hesitate of let me know even though I don't post for your approval, I post for myself.

Setting aside all bad feelings, recriminations and general unhappiness, I wish you all a happy new year!

Ft. Devens, Massachusetts, 1960

2011-12-31T12:17:00.001-05:00

Ft. Devens, Machussetts was the location of the Army Security Agency Training School.

I joined the Army in January of 1960. After I completed my eight weeks of basic training at Ft. Dix, New Jersey (which was a LOT of fun in the dead of winter), I was assigned to attend the Army Security Agency Training School at Ft. Devens, Massachusetts.

After a week's leave at home with my family, I got on a train in Philadelphia, PA and traveled BY MYSELF to Parts Unknown to this young and innocent (and naive) 18year old soldier.

My arrival at Ft. Devens was much less traumatic than my arrival at Ft. Dix, which was a relief. After eight weeks of basic training I thought my permanent name was "You Dumb Fucking Trainee!" God, if I had a quarter every time I was call that name and invested it in Apple stock I would rival Bill Gates in wealth today. Well, maybe not THAT much money but I would have a lot more than I have now.

It didn't take me too long after my arrival at Ft. Devens to make friends. The photos on this blog were taken by me on one Sunday day in spring when most of my fellow soldiers had left for the weekend. I usually went home too but this weekend I decided to stay on the base for a long forgotten reason.

A few of my friends were still around, drinking beer and smoking which is what most of we soldiers did on our off time. I didn't smoke or drink then, I was still innocent. As I said, this was a LONG TIME AGO.

So here for better or worse are those photos I took that long ago Sunday.

The barracks where I lived - the second floor of the middle building - home sweet home

Somebody had a sense of humor. We used to get in formation on these daisies.

One of my buddies. I forget his name but I know he had red hair and lived in Massachusetts but never went home on the weekends - which I thought was very strange but he never explained - nice guy though

Here is another picture of "Red." We soldiers spent a lot of time polishing our shoes and boots.

Guess who? Yep! It's yours truly...young and innocent and naiveté personified.

My buddy "Red." He was cute but I'm pretty sure he was straight. We were just buddies.

"Red's" again. We lost touch after I was moved to a different company on the base. He was a pretty nice guy.

Oh I remember this guy's name. It was Bob Merritt. I got into trouble once by thoughtlessly patting him on his ass once. He angrily turned to me and said "What are you! Queer?" As I said earlier, I was very naive. I dodged a bullet on this one but we were never friends again. He stayed clear of me.

Another photo of Bob. This was before the Ass Patting Incident. We were still friends. He did have a nice ass though.

This was another buddy of mine who lived in our cubicle (four to a cubicle). I forget his name also but I knew he was a Mohawk Indian, which I thought was pretty cool.

Another picture of "Reds" doing what comes naturally to soldiers who are left alone on the weekends in the barracks.

Some of the other guys just hang out on their bunks. Looking at these photos now it looks like I was concentrating on their behinds. I didn't realize that until just now. Wow.

Another one of my buddies giving a Peek Show. Reds is too the left. I guess we were pretty good friends.

I took a walk around the base taking random pictures. I probably wouldn't be able to do this these days in the Age of Terrorism.

The base church where my friend Big Bob and I used to attend on Sundays. I went because they didn't rant again homosexuals, it was a real Christian church.

A street where the officer's and their wives (and families lived). Quite a bit difference from our barracks. I envied them.

The new barracks that Big Bob and I had to move too when our MOS was changed. This was F Company. We were in C Company before we failed to qualify at school for Morse Code Intercept. I guess this was the Losers' Barracks. I left a lot of friends behind in C Company who I never saw again. But I made new friends in F Company, even though we were all probably losers.

This was the Army Depot. I never went into this place. I wasn't a Truck Driving Soldier. I was a Paper Pushing Soldier.

The base PX. This was our store. Man oh man, we got all kinds of bargains here. Who needs Walmart when you have access to a PX?

More of my Sunday afternoon walk. Ft. Devens was pretty big and a great place to take a walk.

In the distance are the buildings where we went to school daily. We would march from our barracks in formation to go to school every morning and march back in the afternoon. I almost always had a hard on by the time I arrived at school from marching behind all those fabulous behinds of my fellow soldiers. I've forgotten a lot but I can remember trying to deal with my "aroused state" by the time I arrived at school. I didn't want any of my fellow soldiers to notice. So you see, it's not easy being gay in the service. So much eye candy.

Me (kneeling on the left) and my new buddies in F Company. And yes, I remember all their names. From the back Bob McCamley, Duane Osten, Hagerstrom (forget his first name) and in the front kneeling me, Bill Allen (sitting and he was from St. Louis, Missouri) and Dick Egan. Big Bob, Dick Egan and I used to hang all the time. Great friendships! Funny thing, after I got out I discovered my BF Big Bob was also gay! I never had a clue nor did he of me. We're still friends and he is the reason I moved to Delaware, where I live now.

Bob (center) and me (on right) in Provincetown, Mass many years after our time at Ft. Devens.

Me (on the left) and Bob (on the right) at lunch at a local Delaware restaurant

Two old Army Buddies - lots of stories here

Where are the Artists in Rehoboth Beach?

2011-12-30T18:53:00.004-05:00

Why don't I see this kind of art in the Rehoboth Beach/Lewes area of Delaware? Oh sure, there are a lot of "artistes" but can anyone really draw and apply color to make a unique watercolor painting like the one featured above in this post?

I found this 3 foot by 4 foot watercolor painting in the lobby the Wilmington Veterans' Affairs Medical Center emergency room last week during my visit. Oh sure, there are a lot of "art rooms" down here in Lower Slower, aka Sussex County but where is the true, vibrant art? I haven't seen it. Perhaps someone can take me by the hand and lead me to an art gallery that shows such an original interpretation of the beauty that is around us.

What I do see that passes for art looks like the "art" my eighth grade class did back in 1955. It's Amateur Hour guys and gals, Amateur Hour.

Flashbacks

2011-12-30T09:30:00.005-05:00

Something strange has been happening the past few months. I've been having flashbacks to my youth.

When I say "youth" I don't mean when I was in my twenties or teens. I mean YOUTH. Really young like two, three or four years old.

It happens at the strangest times. When I was returning from a visit to my old hold state of Pennsylvania on Christmas Day; rolling down the straight stretch of Route 1, little Sparks of Memory would flash in my mind of barely remember instances of my pre memory. Does this make any sense at all?

It does to me. I think this is a precursor to my knowledge that I am coming to the end of this roadshow called The Life of Ronald Tipton. Yes folks, this is one clownshow that is making its final run.

I don't know if this has to do with my decision not to follow-up on my recent high PSA score which could (or could not) indicate that I have prostate cancer. I have decided not to go the usual route and get a biopsy taken of my prostate gland. I have decided not to take that downward spiral.

As my urologist told me before we even discussed my options: "Mr. Tipton, a man your age...even if you do have prostate cancer will probably die of another cause than of the prostate cancer."

Of course I was immediately taken aback by the statemen "a man your age..." My first impulse was to look over my shoulder to see WHO was HE talking to. Okay, I'll use the old Robert DeNiro line..."you talking to me?" Unfortunately, the good doctor WAS talking to me.

So here is the deal. I know I'm going to die of something. Hey, we're all going to die of something. Most of us don't know when or where but it will happen.

I might die of this cancer, I might not. Someone could ram into my car tomorrow (with all the crazy drivers we have down here that is very possible) or I could die a very old man in diapers; ravaged with a long and slow and humiliating death. God, I hope not. When I die I hope I go I hope I die in my sleep, having one of those wonderful fantasy sex dreams that I used to have when I was a teenage and all hormones up. Yessiree, that's the way I want to go. But we have little control over our Final Demise. Most of us let ~~nature~~ fate take its course. Suicide scares me because I fear I wouldn't be successful.

One thing that I do know that lately I've been having these quick Flashes of Memory of a time gone by. I know they are part of my earliest memory because they make me feel secure and comfortable. There is no fear or dread in these little sparks of memory flashbacks. I feel as if I'm ending where I began with this memory thing. I hope I'm not being too cryptic or weird.

It's all very strange, yet somehow comforting. Maybe when we die there really will be that all enveloping light at the end of a long tunnel that welcomes us with peace, love and comfort.

Remember the last words Steve Jobs uttered before he died:

"Wow...wow...wow"

I wonder what he saw. Maybe we will all find out one day. If not, then there is the peace and comfort of the nothingness. But for now, I'm enjoying these sparks of flashback memories.

My Favorite Place in the Whole World - My Bedroom

2011-12-29T08:39:00.001-05:00

My bedroom

My favorite place in the whole world is my bedroom.

My bedroom is my sanctuary. It is where I get away from the every day pressures, cruelties and travails of the world. My bedroom is my treasure. I want for nothing else when I am in my bedroom. I will die in this bedroom.

I sleep alone in my bedroom. Bill has a different bedroom on a different floor (the basement). We haven't slept together for the past 46 years. Yes, that's right, FORTY SIX YEARS.

When we first met, we slept in the same bed together, which is different (as you know) than SLEEPING TOGETHER, which is a whole 'nother subject that I won't even delve into on this blog posting.

I'm not comfortable sleeping all night in the same bed with another person, be that man or woman. Perhaps that is because my Mother had me and my two brothers sleeping in the same rickety brass bed until I was 12 years old. I complained so much about sleeping in the same bed with my brothers that she gave me a fold away bed on my 13th birthday. My brothers and I still slept in the same room but I put my fold away bed (actually a cot) in the corner of our bedroom. That was my SPACE and oh how I treasured the independence of that space that I could call my own.

Bill was the first (and last) man that I have lived with. When I moved into his apartment at Pennsauken New Jersey in February of 1965 I did what was expected, I slept with My Man. Didn't work out. We only had a double bed and I'm not one of these guys that need to be cuddled when I sleep. I SLEEP ALONE.
Bill isn't a "cuddly" type either. So we each got on our respective sides of the bed and TRIED to sleep.

Didn't work. We would usually wake up in the middle of the night and I would have all the covers. Apparently I'm very selfish when I'm in the deep RIMM mode. Bill also said that I would punch him in my sleep to get over to his side of the bed. Apparently I have some deep psychological issues when I'm sleeping with someone else in my same space. Bill also said that I talk and sometimes shouted in my sleep. I was aware of this. When I was in the Army and before I got my own room (yes, I got my own room when I was in the Army; one of the perks of being an assistant platoon sergeant) my fellow soldiers who slept in the same open bay barracks with me often told me that I was quite the conversant while sleeping.

I am a MESS when it comes to sleeping around others. Doesn't work for me, or my bed partner.

So after a few months of mostly sleepless nights Bill decided to use the guest bedroom in our Pennsauken, New Jersey apartment and he's been sleeping in a separate bedroom since. This sleeping arrangement works out quite well for us.

Over the years I've had several different bedrooms but this one is the best. When I had this house built in 2006 my primary goal was to have a bedroom that was customized for my ultimate comfort and well being. I succeeded.

I am surrounded by windows. I love light.

I have a light in tray ceiling. This is perfect indirect light for me when I get up during the night or early in the morning. None of the harshness of lamp light to blast me awake in the morning.

My 60 inch flat screen TV is at the foot of my queen sized platform bed. My platform bed was custom made for my comfort. I need full support for my back when I sleep. None of these pillowy, cloud like, cushiony mattresses where I wake up in the morning with a painful backache.

My bathroom is located a few steps from my bed. It has a separate enclosure for the toilet. I love privacy when I have to go to the bathroom.

I have a tiled walk in shower and a dual sink facing a mirror that covers the wall. I have soft lights to minimize my wrinkled and grizzled countenance which I look at every morning when perform my daily toilette routine of shaving, brushing my tech and clipping those wild, errant hairs that seemingly grew overnight out from my nostrils, eyebrows and ears.

This is the room where I take my Daily Afternoon Nap. I close the curtain, turn on the air purifier, put a dark cloth over my eyes and drift off to dreamland (daytime version) anywhere from half an hour to two hours. Yes, sometimes I sleep TWO hours in the afternoon. I can do that now that I'm retired and I LOVE IT!

And one last thing, if everything goes the way I plan, this is where I plan to end my days. I'm not planning on going anywhere anytime soon but when THAT DAY comes, this is where I plan to take my Last Breath. My neighbor Al died last month. He was my age. He had stage four terminal liver cancer. They brought him home to die. He died in his bed two weeks after they brought him home.

That's the way to go Al. I hope I can do the same.

Anyone Know How to Rip DVD to an iMovie?

2011-12-27T12:37:00.001-05:00

Can anyone tell me the best way to convert my DVD's into iMovie?

I have a LOT of old VCR's that I'm converting to DVD's and I would like to put them into an iMovie format. I've already converted some of the VCR tapes (which were originally old 8mm files) to a DVD format now I want to convert them to iMovie.

I've check the Internet but I'm not sure if I even need to download software to convert my DVD's to iMovie. I'm willing to download and even purchase software if it does a good and easy job.

Anyone done this? I would appreciate any advice you could give. I would LOVE to make a permanent record of these old films and VCR tapes so when I'm gone they will be available to my relatives.

Thanks!

Unknown Photo Discovered After 54 years!

2011-12-26T18:59:00.002-05:00

The collage senior snapshot yearbook page of the Class of 1957

As regular readers of this blog know, I love old photos. Last week I pulled out a couple of old yearbooks from my high school. I went to Downingtown High School in Downingtown, Pennsylvania from 1954 to 1959.

I was looking through the yearbooks, reliving old memories and looking for photos to scan into my computer when I came across quite a remarkable discovery. I found a photo of myself that I had never seen before in the DHS 1957 yearbook! How surprised was I when I saw that smiling photo of myself?!?

The photo was contained on one of the collage photo pages of snapshots of the seniors. Since I was a sophomore at that time, my photo should not have been on that page. The only thing I can figure is that I had a girl friend at that time who was a senior and she must have had that picture of me and submitted it to the yearbook editorial staff when they asked seniors to submit pictures of the collage page.

That's me in the center with all my "girlfriends" surrounding me!

I think there was an inside joke because I was often teased about "all my girlfriends." HA! Yes, I had her (Vivian) as a girlfriend but back then I had the eye for the boys, believe me. I had many, many fantasies about some of the senior guys. Oh sure, I liked my "girlfriend" but back then you have to realize (The Fifties) that one was expected to have a girlfriend. I thought my "feelings" about some of those hot senior boys was just a phase that would pass. Right! I am still in that "phase."

So anyway, it was fun seeing this picture of myself even if it took me 53 years to discover it.

That's Smiling Ron!

I wonder how many more Unknown Pictures of Ron are out there?

A Great Day!

2011-12-25T19:35:00.000-05:00

A toast between friends this Christmas Day

Just in from my trip to Pennsylvania this morning. When I got up this morning and saw the sun streaming through my bedroom windows and knowing that Bill (spouse) is still holed up in his bedroom depressed, I thought today would be an ideal day to take my friend Bill B. up on his offer (I have several "Bill" friends as I do several "Bob" friends) and have Christmas dinner with him and his family at their home in Pennsylvania. Good decision!

"Did you get that picture?"

Bill B. was my best friend in high school. After a thirty-five year intermission, we renewed our friendship at our 35th class reunion in 1994. In fact I have renewed my friends with several of my high school friends and my life is richer for it.

"I think she got it!"

It is a two and a half hour drive for me to get to Pennsylvania. Normally it is very stressful because I have to contend with long haul trucks, road construction and driving through the center of Newark, Delaware (a college town) which is never a picnic. However, today my drive up to Pennsylvania was a STRAIGHT SHOT. I love it when the highways are deserted. Why can't it be like that all the time?

"Let's do it again!"

My brother Isaac also lives in Pennsylvania. I stopped by his house (the old family home) but he wasn't there so I left him a note. No doubt his daughter or his son got him out the house. He lives alone with his cat. Ike is a good guy. I'm glad someone took care of him this Christmas.

"Maybe we need a refill!"

At my friend Bill's I had a reunion with his cousin Ruth, who is a delightful person. She is one of those people you can tease and tease and she is so good natured about it. Bill and I are always teasing someone. Maybe that's why we're such good friends in spite of the fact that he is a conservative Republican and I am a liberal Democrat. Funny thing about that, most of my friends are conservative Republicans. Think it's me?

"Hey! My arm is getting tired of holding this glass of Zin"

The last time I visited Bill and his family was nine years ago. That was also for a Christmas dinner. My my, how fast time goes by. I'm usually working Christmas Day, that's why I don't visit friends on Christmas. This year it was a treat not to work Christmas Day.

"That's enough, I'm drinking my zin now!

The only downside of the day was that I had to leave so early. I don't like to drive in the dark. I really do have problems driving in the dark. It's hard for me to see things and tonight there was no moon out. The last hour of the drive home was in the dark but it was a straight shot down Rt. 1 so it wasn't too bad. I didn't want to drive through Newark, Delaware with all those twists and turns and road construction in the dark. The sun was just going down by the time I arrived in Newark. I would probably be down some dead end street in Newark right now if I was caught in the dark.

When I was up in PA I did stop my our old house. It is so depressing. The place went into foreclosure almost two years ago. It is so overgrown. It looks like Grey Gardens. I probably should stop visiting it. But I can't help myself. Bill misses it so much. I love where I'm living in Delaware but I also do miss the "Old Props" as we call it.

I hope everyone reading this blog post had a wonderful day today. I know I did. Thanks Bill and Janet!

I should have worn red! A fashion faux pas!

Merry Christmas To All

2011-12-24T18:02:00.000-05:00

Merry Christmas to on and all on this Christmas Eve. I hope you are all surround by love and peace and happiness on this special night.

Happy Birthday Mom

2011-12-24T11:43:00.000-05:00

My Mom - The Best Mom in the World (for me)

Today would have been my Mom's 88th birthday. She was born December 24th, 1923. She died September 16th, 2010.

Every year I always sent her a birthday card. I always gave her separate birthday gifts wrapped in birthday paper. I NEVER gave her Christmas gifts and said "This is for your birthday too." She said that happened to her growing up so I always made sure that her birthday was special.

Last year was the first birthday that I didn't get her a card or a gift. It was a difficult time for me because my Mom was my Best Friend also. Sure, the last few years of her life she changed and was difficult at times but she was always my Mom. She literally was always THERE for me.

My Mom and me (leaning on her as usual) and my two brothers - 1951

Ever since she died I have felt less than whole. I was fortunate to have had her as long as I did (68 years.) She lost her mother when she wasn't quite two years old. She always talked about this mysterious woman who was her mother. I could tell the she never got over the pain of losing and not having her own mother. I tried to make that up to her by being a Good Son. Most of the time I did alright. However, sometimes I slipped but she always forgave me.

My Mom, me and my two brothers - 2005 (only formal portrait picture of us)

Later in her life she liked teddy bears. Every Christmas I would give her a teddy bear. Big teddy bears, little teddy bears. Oh how she loved those teddy bears.

Mom and her Christmas Teddy Bear - 2000

She would put the big ones away after Christmas and bring them out the next Christmas. The little ones she put in a basket next to her favorite chair in her living room. After she died my brothers took all of her clothes and gave them to Goodwill. I took the teddy bears. I have the big ones in boxes in my basement storage room (much to the chagrin of Bill). Some of the little ones I kept in her basket and put them on the bed in the room I reservers for her in our new house. She never got to use Her Room because she spend the last year of her life being cared for my by brother John and his wife and daughter at John's home in Greenville, South Carolina.

The last picture of me and Mom

When I go into Mom's Room now and see her teddy bears looking at me, I feel her presence. It is a good feeling.

Mom's Teddy Bears in Her Room waiting for her

Happy birthday Mom.

Mom - 1955

Christmas Eve 2011

2011-12-24T10:25:00.000-05:00

This is the first Christmas that I am not working in ten years. I don't mind working Christmas Eve and/or Christmas Day but I don't mind having it off either.

I feel like a kid set loose in a candy store right now. I have this Quiet Time to myself. You see, this is how I like to celebrate Christmas, Quiet Time. By that I mean I don't get involved in all the Christmas Rush and craziness. Oh I used to years ago. I bought into the usual rush to get everyone presents and the whole shopping thing. However, some years ago I decided that wasn't for me. Not that there is anything wrong with that for other folks. The way I feel about Christmas is that whatever way you want to celebrate the Season is what you should do.

For me it is sending out Christmas cards. I've always loved sending Christmas cards. I try to keep in contact with favorite old friends I don't see any more. It is also my way of keeping in touch with relatives that I no longer live nearby.

Another tradition I developed over the years was spending Christmas Eve by myself. I like the quiet of Christmas Eve. If the night is clear, I like to look out my window to the black infinity that is the nighttime sky and search for the North Star among the other thousands of other sparkling stars. Maybe that's why my favorite Christmas cards are the sparkly ones, they remind me of the Christmas Eve nighttime sky.

Christmas Day I like to take a ride around the neighborhood. I love the deserted streets. It is eerie. Almost like a mysterious bomb was dropped and caused everyone to disappear. I absolutely love driving down the wide open highways. I'm always surprised at how wide the roads are once the other vehicles are off the roads. I wish the roads were like that year round.

I wasn't sure what kind of picture of video I was going to put on my Christmas Eve blog entry. I always like to put something original. I think I found it today. A friend sent me this link of a video of a Texas family feeding breakfast to...deer! Yes, you read it right...deer! Where I lived in Pennsylvania we had plenty of deer.

This hunting season I have seen many pictures on my Facebook account of my cousins who hunt holding up by their antlers the bloodied heads of their trophies. What really saddens me is the 9, 10 and 11 year old cousins with their "trophies." While I realize hunting is probably necessary to keep the deer population down I will admit that I feel better about seeing this video of a family feeding deer.

I'm all about peace and love man. That may sound Goody-Two-Shoes to some but that is just the way I roll. I love this video. It makes me feel good as I hope it does for you too.

I'll be back later with another post (since I have the WHOLE DAY OFF) but I did want to share this video for those of you who feel as I do.

I think there is way too much hate and violence in this world today. Isn't Christmas supposed to be about Peace and Love? At the risk of being too preachy, I'm all for those Christian Principals and not so much for all the "Ye Must Praise Him" principals.

There, I've had my say. Merry Christmas to everyone and Peace and Love to all!

Below are Christmas images from pictures I took in 1979 at Girard Bank in Philadelphia where I worked at that time. The bottom picture was taken at the Drury Lane Bar (a gay bar) in Philadelphia. I hired a singing telegram messenger to surprise my friend Tommy Murray (the bartender and longtime friend) with a surprise Christmas greeting. Those were the Good Days!

The Amazing Grace Christmas House

2011-12-23T18:41:00.000-05:00

Now THIS is how I want to decorate our house next Christmas! Do you think the neighbors will know I'm gay after this?

I LOVE IT!