A Zoom Call With An Old Friend

Bill P. (far left) digging in at the Girard Bank Trust Operations Department Christmas buffet 1979

 This morning I had a Zoom call with an old friend from my Girard Bank days. His name is also Bill and he was also my boss. The picture above is at one of our bank's annual Christmas parties.  Everyone brought something in to eat and share with fellow Trust Operations employees.

I departed Girard Bank a few years after Mellon Bank took over in 1982. I took this picture I think in 1979. Yes, I was taking pictures even back then. I've always been that annoying person who drags out his camera and takes photos. Be thankful, imagine how many pictures I would have if I had an iPhone back then in those prehistoric digital days.  

My former boss Bill also departed Girard Bank (of Philadelphia) after Mellon Bank (of Pittsburgh) also departed the Philadelphia office and moved to Pittsburgh after Mellon completed its swallow of Girard Bank.

Over the years I've kept in touch with Bill by phone. But with the advent of Zoom I was able to convince him to try Zoom, even though he frequently reminded me he wasn't "technological proficient." In my opinion he doesn't give himself enough credit. Coincidently his e-mail address also has the name "Zoom" in it although that was pre Zoom call era.

In this COVID era I stay in touch with old friends, relatives and former co-workers via FaceTime and Zoom. I am so thankful I can do this. I'm old enough to remember the main way we stayed in touch was by handwritten letters or expensive long distance phone calls. I hear now days they don't even teach cursive writing in elementary school.  

We had a little trouble connecting this morning, couldn't get Bill's image, but eventually he came through and he had a surprise for me. He got a new puppy! 

Bill P. with his new puppy, "Brooke". She's ten weeks old. Looks like a lot of love here.

Bill's favorite breed of dog are Shetland collies. He and his wife Marie had two of them. One died a few years ago and the other is fourteen years old now. Bill and his wife were reluctant to get a new dog because of their age, their dog will likely outlive them. This is a thought I've had. If my Bill passes before I do I want to get a companion to keep me company and focused here in an empty house of love. I've been considering cats (I love cats) but reluctant because I know cats like to climb and I just have too many things to get knocked over not to mention all my functions keys on my keyboard, a problem my friend Lar has with his cats. 

Bill told me his unique solution to bringing into his family a puppy who will likely outlive him and his wife. He has an agreement with the breeder should he and his wife die before their new puppy, the dog goes back to the breeder. Now that solves a problem for me. My preferred breed of dog is a Pomeranian. The best friend I ever had in my life was "Horace." A Pomeranian that I brought on a whim after seeing him frolicking in a pet store window on Chestnut Street in Philadelphia on my way to lunch. I had no intentions of buying a dog (puppy) that day but I was intrigued and walking into the pet store. The owner brought this little stinky orange fluff ball out to me to hold and that was the end of that story. I bought him on the spot and took him back to work with me then surprised my Bill when he picked me up at the train station at the end of the day. Horace lived a long sixteen years. In the photo he is on the far right. The middle is "T" another Pom we purchased and their puppy "Babydoll."  Horace died in 1998 and we haven't had a pet since. Now, knowing that I can have an agreement that if I get a puppy, he (or she) would have a home long after I'm gone. Of course I won't get any pet while my Bill is still here. But getting a pet will be a way for me to cope with life should my Bill die before me. 

Bill P and me on Zoom this morning during a point of hilarity. Life goes on. I am so thankful for Zoom. We couldn't have these moments with the old land line phones.

These days I think a lot about my previous seventy-nine years of life. I have so many good memories, some bad, some scary but mostly good.

The picture below is one of the rare ones with me and Bill P. during our days at Girard Bank in the 70's. Bill was the vice president of the Trust Operations department. I was one of his managers along with Joe M., another manager in the photo. 

Me, Joe M. and Bill P. at Girard Bank 1977

Those were the days!

Horace

Horace - 1982 - 1998

Sixteen years ago this month (September), the only dog I ever had that "chose" me, died.  His name was Horace.  

I didn't plan to get Horace.  I found him quite by accident.  

In 1982 I worked in center city Philadelphia at Girard Bank.  I used to walk down Chestnut Street almost every day to go to lunch at the Colannade Cafeteria at Sixth and Market.  During my walk I would go by a pet store, with a large window in front.  Behind that window were frolicking puppies.  This one day I saw a little orange fur ball trying to keep up with the other larger puppies. I saw that he was a Pom (Pomeranian) and was immediately attracted.  Bill and I already had two older Pomeranians at our home in Downingtown.  We both love Pomeranians.

Against my better judgement I walked in the store, curious as to how much "that puppy in the window" cost. The owner immediately went to the window and plucked the orange puff ball out of the window, took him aside and sprayed him (with deodorant I later found out because this orange ball STUNK) and placed him in my waiting arms.  BIG MISTAKE. 

I left that store with that orange puff ball in a box and went to lunch.  After lunch I returned to my job as an operations manager in the trust department.  I had to keep putting my hand in the box to keep my little puppy from whimpering.  Later I found out I was bonding with him by this action.

At the end of the day I caught my commuter train back to Downingtown, hand still in the cardboard box where my new buddy was temporarily residing.  The train conductor came by and saw the box.  He said "You know we don't allow pets on the train?"  I said "Yes."  What was I supposed to do?  Walk home?  Then he smiled and walked away.

I got of the train in Downingtown.  Bill was waiting for me as he did every day.  I got in the Jeep and put my "package" the back.  He said "What did you buy today?"  This was back in my shopaholic days.  Bill knew me well.  After a slight hesitation, I decided to just put it out there.  I said "A dog."  He said:

WHAT?!

He said "You're kidding!"  I said "No, I bought a dog. You'll like him."  

He said "Take it back!"  

I said "No."  

Long story short, when we got home I took the new puppy out and put him in Bill's arms and the rest is history.

Bill and Baby Horace - love at first sight - 1982

Horace lived with us sixteen long years.  He died in September 1998.  

Horace, my faithful buddy for 16 long years - 1996

Horace outlived his "wife", "T", who we got the next year and his their puppy "Babydoll" who was born a ten months later.  "T" lived fourteen years and "Babydoll" lived eleven years.

Horace and "T", aka as "Mom" and "The Boss" around our house - 1983

"T" and Horace go for a stroll on our idyllic acres in Pennsylvania - those were the days

I've always wanted to get another Pomeranian but Bill is adamantly against ever getting another dog.  He can't take the loss.  Plus, at our age the dog will probably outlive us.  But I saw this video this morning and I fell in love all over again.

I'm thinking about it.

Post by Lúcio Kummer.

Pom Rescue

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

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

New Meme

Bhudda in my new River Birch Tree flower island in my backyard

Time for another meme.  I love memes don't you?  This is the latest one I filled out last Tuesday night during my 3 to 11 pm shifter at work during a slow period.

1. What colour are your socks? 

Tan.  I'm at work and the tan socks go with my tan dockers and brown loafers.  Otherwise I always wear white socks with my Rebook sneakers. 


2. What are you listening to right now?

"Hidden Oasis (Yoga Mix) by David and Steve Gordon on the "Perfect Balance - Musical Healing Volume 2 CD - I'm at work and this is the music that is playing in the hotel.


3. What was the last thing you ate? 

My homemade potato salad - this was my dinner tonight at work.


4. Can you drive a stick shift?

I learned to drive a stick shift in Driver's Ed in high school.  I haven't driven stick shift since. 


5. Last person you spoke to on the phone? 

A lady asking about availability of rooms for this weekend.  I'm at work.  I'm a hotel front desk clerk. 


6. Do you like the person who sent this to you? 

I stole this from Cubby's blog after reading his meme.  Do I like Cubby?  I guess so.  I never met him in person but he always says nice things to me.



7. How old are you today? 

I’m 69 years old.  I know, I know.  I'M OLD. I am out of the main stream of almost all of the bloggers who are in their 40's and early 60's.  Hey, it is what it is.  I don't think old. 



8. What is your favorite sport to watch on TV? 

Lawrence O'Donnel take on a mealy mouth, hypocritical tea-bagger on his TV show "The Last Word." 




9. What is your favorite drink?

Turkey Hill Diet Orange Iced Tea.  I'm not on a diet but their diet orange iced tea has the best flavor ever.  I dilute it half of it with ice water before I drink it.


10. Have you ever dyed your hair? 

About thirty years ago I put in a solution that the sun would cause my normally dark brown hair to bleach in blonde streaks (what was I thinking?)  It was a disaster.  I ended up with orange hair. 


11. Favorite food?

Eggplant Parmesan done properly.  There are as many versions of Eggplant Parmesan as their are cooks.  Crisp on the outside and soft and mushy on the inside with the the slightest taste eggplant bitterness topped with a fresh, chunky tomato sauce.  Ah, heaven.


12. What is the last movie you watched? 

"Inception"  What was that all about?  I couldn't get through but ten minutes of it before I ejected it from my DVD player and shipped it back to Netflix. 


13. Favorite day of the year? 


Summer Solstice (which was yesterday!)


14. How do you vent? 

Very well thank you.  I never hold anything in.  Just ask anyone who knows me.  "There goes Ron again!"


15. What was your favorite toy as a child? 

Paper dolls.  Hey, I'm gay.  



16. What is your favorite season? 

Summer



17. Cherries or Blueberries? 

Cherry pie, the best. I like blueberries too but they stain my teeth and they don't have the "bite" of a good cherry pie.


18. Do you want your friends to e-mail you back?

I don't care.  Some do, some don't.  I've given up on the tit for tat e-mails years ago.  My friends have their own lives and I don't hold them to matching my e-mails one for one.


19. Who is the most likely to respond? 

My friend Larry.  He is the only friend (and longest - we've known each other sixty years) who truly knows me and appreciates my friendship enough not to take me for granted.



20. Who is least likely to respond?

Just about everyone else I know.  Why piss someone off?  They'll just send me an e-mail justifying why they don't respond.  As I said before, I don't care.  I have more important things to worry about.


21. Living situation?

Living in domestic harmony for the past 47 years with my spouse Bill.  We planned to end our life of living in sin by getting married this January at the Georgetown courthouse when the Delaware domestic partner law become effective. 


22. When was the last time you cried? 

Two days ago when I watch the memorial DVD I made for my Mother's funeral. 


23. What is on the floor of your closet right now? 

All of my old jeans that I plan to sell on Ebay someday.  I have never thrown out a pair of jeans in my life.  Those jeans are going to get a whole new life when I sell them.


24. Who is the friend you have had the longest that you are sending to? 

Larry of Claymont, DE.  We've been friends since 3rd grade, sixty years ago.


25. What did you do last night? 

Scanned my photos that I had taken with my friend Larry celebrating his 70th birthday (we posed as two old time western gunslingers) earlier in the day at the Olde Time Photo place in Rehoboth Beach.



26. What are you most afraid of?

Republicans. I am scared to death of the Republicans because their ONLY goal is to eliminate all the social safety net programs from the New Deal to today. I am more afraid of them than I am of the terrorists.  If the Republicans are successful with their agenda of elmininating all government programs then this country is screwed. Life will end as we know it.  Only the very rich will survive.  The rest of us will live in chicken coops.


27. Plain, cheese, or spicy hamburgers?

Spicy with cheese, please. (I am the same as Cubby!)



28. Favorite dog breed? 

Pomeranian (I've had five in my lifetime)

Hamburger and Sparky - 1971

Babydoll, "T" and Horace - 1985

29. Favorite day of the week?

Monday.


30. How many states have you lived in?

Four - Pennsylvania, New Jersey, Massachusetts and Delaware



31. Diamonds or pearls?

Diamonds (absolutely - I'm gay.  Remember?)


32. What is your favorite flower?

Lily of the Valley.


33. What is your current favorite song? 

"Our Day Will Come" by Ruby and the Romantics


34. Read any good books lately? 

"Ava Gardner - Love is Nothing"

Babydoll - Crazy Dog

My niece Karen with Babydoll as a puppy

Remember when I told you about my one and only cat Bobby a few posts back?  On this cold and rainy evening I was trolling through some of my 42,345 pictures that I have on my iMac and I came across this series of pictures of me and my little Pomeranian dog Babydoll.

Okay, okay.  I know "Babydoll" is a stupid name but it fit her perfectly.  Babydoll was one of two female puppies that was the result of the one and only time Bill and I were going to raise Pomeranian dogs to sell.  Oh how foolish we were.  We thought we would enjoy the benefits of raising the puppies then sell them.  Not to get rich but just for the enjoyment of raising them and finding a good home for them.

Well, the result of the one and only mating between our male Pomeranian Horace and our female Pomeranian T was two pups.  They were sold even before they were born.  We expected four puppies.  What we got was one big pup, which we called Jumbo and a little, tiny, teeny pup which we called Babydoll.  


Babydoll came out with a bad temper.  She was a crazy dog.  But oh how we loved her.  We felt very protective towards her because she had to compete with her much bigger sister Jumbo when it came to feeding time with mom.  Jumbo lived in fear of Babydoll.  

Thus when they were both eight weeks old we were distraught that we had to deliver both of them to their new owners.  I tried to talk the buyers out of their purchase but they would have none of it.  

Two weeks after delivery of the pups to their new owners, one owner called me and asked me if I would like to have the pup back.  It was Babydoll.  Of course we would take her back.  


Thus Babydoll enjoyed eleven very happy years with us; her mom and her pop.  Unfortunately, she died before either her mom or pop.  Her mother lived until she was fourteen years old and her father lived until we was sixteen years old.  We always felt like Babydoll got the short end of the deal.  

Babydoll is the first living thing that caused me a great heartbreak when she died.  I never knew such pain could exist when someone or something you loved could die.  


Babydoll died in 1994.  She is the reason we have never got another dog.  Bill still isn't over her loss.  Bill said he wouldn't survive another loss like the one we did with Babydoll.  

Going through my old pictures tonight (I was actually looking for one of me by the bed I shared with my two brothers taken when I was eleven years old - I was going to write a blog post on why I always sleep alone now after spending years sharing a bed with my two brothers), I came across this picture of me playing with Babydoll.  This is why I have pictures, they bring back a lot of happy memories.


Someday Babydoll, we'll be together again.  

The Pain That Never Goes Away

Me and Babydoll

Another sad post here.


I've been lucky most of my life because I haven't lost too many loved ones.  


Now I am of an age where my more of my friends and relatives are dying with increasing frequency.  I am reminded of something my grandfather said a year before his death at 87 years of age.  He said "The bad thing about getting old is that all of your friends have died and there's no one to talk to."  I have never forgotten what he said and I knew it would apply to me someday.  I think that day is coming.


This year on September 16th, my Mother died at 86 years of age.  She would have been 87 this past Christmas Eve.  This year Christmas was difficult for me.


I am now witnessing my best friend's slow descent into the fog of dementia.  I am losing him.  His body is still here but is mind is fading away.  I don't know what is sadder: to have a friend die suddenly or to see them die a slow death this way, losing all dignity in the process.  I know when he dies another part of me will die.  Getting old is painful in more respects than physical. There is the heartbreak.


Perhaps I had no bigger heartbreak than the loss of one of my pet Pomeranian dogs.  I know I should feel guilty saying this but I don't.  The pain I feel in my heart for the loss of my Mother will never go away,  But her death was different.  She had a long and healthy life.  Her death wasn't unexpected.  She had accomplished all she set out to do in life.  


My partner and I have had a total of five Pomeranian dogs during our time together.  They are all gone now.  We don't have any dogs now because he doesn't want to go through the pain of their loss again.  Both of us miss our dogs but perhaps none more so than a silly named dog called "Babydoll."


"Babydoll" was one of two pups of our male (Horace) and female ("T" short for Tiffaney). Both Horace and "T" were 16 years old when they died.  They lived a long and good life.  "Babydoll" was only 11 years old when she died.  

Babydoll (on the left) with her Mom  ("T") and Dad (Horace)

Her death was sudden.  One morning, at the dawn of the day, Bill saw that Babydoll was sick.  He lifted her up in his arms to take her outside.  She died in his arms.  It was that fast.  Bill went into shock.  He cried and wailed.  She was also his favorite.  Bill would not let me take her from his arms.  He wandered all over the house wailing "Oh Babydoll, why did you leave me?"  I'm getting emotional now just writing about that traumatic event thirteen years ago on a cold February day.  Poor Babydoll, she died just as the sun was rising.  She never saw the light of that new day.  Perhaps that is why I am so sad when I witness the dawn light rising.


By the time I was able to pry Babydoll out his his arms around noontime, her little body was stiff with rigor mortis. Bill's eyes were red and swollen from crying.  I didn't know what to do.  My heart was hurting not only for the loss of our loved pet but to see Bill in such pain.  I wanted to do something for him but didn't know what to do.  


I took her lifeless body to the basement and put her in an Igloo freezer chest for burial later.  


The reason why her death has affected us so much was that it was unexpected.  She was always challenging her mom for dominance (there always has to be a Head Dog) in our little trio of Pomeranians.  He always teased her that she "would get her turn" when Mom ("T") kicked the bucket. 


Poor Babydoll, she never got her turn.


Now this is hard for me to explain.  Up until the death of this little Pomeranian dog pet we had, I never cried for anyone who died.  Never.  In fact, I still haven't cried for the death of either my father or my mother.  I don't know why, because I was very sad when my Mother died, not so much when my father died (just telling the truth here).  I miss my Mom terrible but I've never cried.  I got choked up a couple of times but never cried.  Heck.  I cry every time I watch "Dark Victory" with Bette Davis and I know how that ends!  So what is the matter with me crying like an idiot over the death of this little, four pound, ball of orange fur with a terrible, short fuse temper (and she had one, believe me.)  


I don't know.  Maybe there was somebody or a spirit inside that little dog that went before her time.  But what I do know that is to this day, all these years later, my heart aches with a pain that has never relented for that little dog.