Happy Anniversary

Ron and Bill 1965 - Pennsauken, New Jersey (after I moved into Bill's apartment)

On this summer day in 1964, at a gay bar on the corner of 15th and Spruce Streets in Philadelphia, PA I met Bill, my life partner.

Today we celebrate our 46th anniversary.  Since same sex couple are not allowed to marry in this country, most of us count as our anniversary the day we met.  Thus, July 3, 1964 is the date of our anniversary.

Bill and Ron July 2010 Milton, DE (our friend Bob C.'s backyard)

Perhaps someday in our lifetime we can officially get married.   Perhaps.  But for now I rejoice in the fact that I have been able to live the past forty six years of my life with this wonderful man who has always treated me like a prince.

Happy anniversary Bill.  I love you!

Bill and Ron 1964 Pennsauken, New Jersey (Bill's apartment)

Ron and Bill 1974 at our home on Naudain Street in Philadelphia, PA

Ron and Bill 1978 Downingtown, PA (at my parent's house)

Bill in Provincetown, Mass.. 1979 (he didn't want to be there)

Bill and Hamburger and Sparky in backyard of Naudain Street home 1976

Barbara and Bill 2009 at Covington Chase, DE

Jane, Bill and Barbara Covington Chase, DE 2009

The two old men - Bill and me at Home Depot - our second home 2010 - Domestic Bliss

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Most of the day I shoveled snow. I shoveled my driveway as well as shoveling the driveways of my neighbors on both sides of my house.




As usual, my Other Half (my partner of 45 years) mocked me while I shoveled the driveways. He loves the snow. Ever since we moved down here he has whined about how he missed the snow. Now we have it and he is a happy man. That's wonderful.



I take the mocking in stride. That is his style. He loved the snow so much that I left snow removal job to him in PA. However, he is 81 years old now and not capable of such strenuous activity. So I go out this morning to shovel snow. I see the shovel is missing. I go out the garage door and there is Other Half helping my neighbor shovel his driveway. I go over to them and ask to take over. Later, after I finished, the Other Half tells me the only reason I help was because I wanted to work with my cute neighbor. No, not really. I wanted to help. Is that so hard to understand? But, as usual, I let this insult go.



Next, I shovel my driveway. The Other Half takes a video of me shoveling the driveway and says "I have to record this. I can't believe you're shoveling snow." Okay. He mocks my actions again. I let it go.



Then he urges me to shovel our other neighbor's driveway. I do and again I am mocked. Again, I let it go. It is his style not to give me credit for anything. I'm used to it. Usually it doesn't bother me.



But today was different. Today an incident happened that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Ever have one of those days when enough is enough? That happened today.



This is what happened. Later in the day, after I had taken my nap, I thought I would check to see if the road outside my driveway was plowed. It was. There was small amount of snow in my driveway. I decided to clear it out before dark and the temperatures dropped.



Almost as soon as I'm at the end of my driveway I see Alan, our HOA representative in charge of snow removal approach me. He asked me if I saw the guy with the plow. I told him he just went by. Alan asked me if I could get my car out of my garage. I told him I could. Alan lives at the end of our drive in a cul de sac and his area was hardly touched. He wanted to catch up with the driver of the plow truck so he could clean out the road in front of his house. There was too much distance to cover by walking to catch up with the driver of the plow.



Even though I didn't want to take my car out of the garage for fear of getting stuck I told him I would. Believe me, this is the last thing I wanted to do. I've already had several friends call with broad hints of coming to rescue them which was impossible for me to do because I couldn't even get out of my own development. And if I could, I did not want to risk getting stuck and stranded in the snow trying to rescue friends who wanted to get to work rather than call in like I did Sunday when I couldn't get out.



I back my car out of my garage. With Alan directing, we make the Grand Tour of the development. I went down every road. Of course we didn't find the snow plow truck until the end of the tour. We stop, Alan gets out, gives the snow plow driver directions to get to his place to plow the road. Alan gets back in the car and we head back to my place. On the way back, he wants to stop at another neighbor's place to tell him the snow plow truck is coming back for another swipe of the snow. I suggested to Alan to call that neighbor. I didn't want to push my luck in getting caught in the snow.



We arrive at my driveway and Alan gets out of my car, thanking me profusely for helping him. He said he could never have caught up with the snowplow driver if he had to walk. Good deed accomplished.



Now comes time for my punishment. First thing I hear when I walk into my house, even before I could get the words out of my mouth was "Well that was about the stupidest thing I've ever seen!" Note: my Other Half has a habit of calling me stupid. It's just his thing. I usually ignore it. I try to explain what happened. Another note: when you live with someone you have to explain every action. At least I do. The Other Half resents any questions and rarely answers my inquiries. I usually let it go.



The Other Half stops talking long enough to get the gist of what I was saying. Then he interrupts and says "Well, at least you did something right! But why did you turn down Robinson Drive?" Here we go again; he's looking for something to justify his first reaction. I try to explain that Alan asked me to drive down Robinson Drive because he was looking for the snow plow truck. The Other Half now realizes that all his assumptions are wrong and rather than hear anymore, because he may have to face the fact that he was wrong, he cuts me off with an "I don't want to hear anymore! Enough!" That was the straw that broke the camel's back. I responded by finishing what I was saying. The Other Half gets up and storms out spewing a string of obscenities at me (again, his usual practice when he is angry.) I never quite understood the spewing of obscenities because he is so straight laced about anyone else, including me, using an obscene word in conversation. But when he is mad, the obscene words pour out of his mouth like Niagara Falls.



As he makes his retreat to his bedroom with the requisite slamming of the door, I shout after him "The next time get your facts straight before making all your accusations!" This is a big No-No for me because the unwritten law around here is that the Other Half is always right and I'm the stupid one. But, every now and then the worm turns. Today was such a day.



There are some days when I just have had enough. Today was one of those days also.



Unfortunately my Partner-In-Life has that malady in which he is incapable of every acknowledging or admitting he is ever wrong. I know other people like this. The first time I was confronted with this cognitive disability in a person, I was unbelieving. But now I realize it is fairly common. Even one of our former presidents, George W. Bush, has this character disorder. That simply cannot ever admit that they make a mistake. Whatever happens is always someone else’s fault. They never accept responsibility.



There is a lot that I cannot do but one thing I can do is admit a mistake. I can take a lot of crap too. But sometimes, I have just had enough. Then I blast back.



Thinking about it, the last time I had enough was a similar situation. It was with a friend of mine who made the mistake of thinking I was impatient because my restaurant meal wasn’t delivered on time. The meal wasn’t delivered on time but I wasn’t upset about it. I already had to martinis and thus I wasn’t concerned whether I got my hamburger or not. However, my dining partner and friend made the assumption that I wasn’t being supportive enough to the waiter who screwed up and shot me a “Get over it Mary!” remark. I responded back “Bullshit!” That exchange went back and forth a few times until I finally made my point but not without causing a great deal of discomfort for our other dining partners. I find it very interesting that my friend has the same cognitive problem as my Other Half. He can never admit error. Everything and anything that happens to him is always someone else’s fault. He never accepts responsibility for his actions. Like my Other Half, he is incapable of accepting that responsibility.



Usually I let this character deficiency go over my head but sometimes I have just had enough. Of course, both of them will say it’s my fault. Some things never change.



I’m sick of this snow and I’m sick of fighting with people just because I’m trying to do the right thing. I have to remind myself that No Good Deed Goes Unpunished. Maybe someday I’ll figure that one out. Right now I just want to take some time off for myself.

Now if we can get the mail running again I can catch up on my Netflix movies. Watching a good movie always relaxes me. Maybe then Mr. Hyde will go away.

You Think It's Easy?

Bill and I have been together 45 years. Some friends ask us “How do you do it?” Well, I’m here to tell you that it is not easy. It is ALWAYS a work in progress.




What happened this morning is a perfect example. Bill wanted me to show him how he could get into his Facebook page. He has never been able to get into his Facebook account on his own. I’ve always had to show him.



Where he has the problem is he receives notifications of activity in his Facebook account by e-mails sent to his AOL account. With AOL you have to copy the Facebook notification and paste it into the browser. Bill has never understood the cut and paste commands of Microsoft. Simply put it is “Control C” to copy the HTML string and “Control V” to paste it into the browser. Bill cannot connect those dots.



So this morning Bill shows me what he is doing and wants to know why it isn’t working. He paints the HTML string in his e-mail notification and hits “Control C.” So far, so good. But here is the problem. He puts his mouse in the browser and hits “Enter.” It doesn’t work. He gets frustrated and starts yelling at me. I try to tell him that he has to position the cursor at the beginning of the blank area in the browser and hit “Control V.” But, he won’t let me get that far. He cuts me off. He says “Wait!” “Hush!” I say “Bill, I’m trying to tell you how to do it.” He says “Shut up! That’s why I don’t like to ask you because you always do this!” I said “What am I doing? I’m trying to explain to you.” But, he cuts me off again in the middle of my statement.



This goes on for several minutes, escalating into yet another shouting match. He turns off his computer, and goes rushing out the house slamming doors on his way, yelling “Leave me alone!” Now he won’t speak to me for at least a day or more. The length of the silent treatment depends on how mad he is. The length of time could be as little as two days to two weeks.  It ends when I make the first move.  Yes, I have to apologize.  That's the only way we will resume our relationship.  Bill never admits a mistake.  He has the George Bush syndrome. 



I’ve known Bill for 45 years. I have lived with Bill for 45 years. This is his pattern. When we met I was 22 years old and he was 35 years old. He was the “daddy.” He had all of the answers (or at least thought he did.) Early on in our relationship I almost always deferred to him. But as I grew older and gained more knowledge, especially in fields that Bill had little or no knowledge I didn’t defer to him. When we entered into those areas in our relationship, Bill would mock them as unimportant and “not worth anything.” Even as I built a successful banking career (in back office operations) Bill would denigrate my work as “silly office work.”



Now granted Bill has many talents. He built our sunroom in PA from scratch. I wouldn’t even know where to start. He is an electrician. He is a plumber. He built our brick wall and patio in PA. In short, Bill can do a whole lot of things that I can’t do. I am not mechanically inclined at all, Bill is. My “talents” are in other areas. I can cook. Bill can’t. I’m an excellent gardener. Bill is not. I can write. Bill can not. I’m a photographer. Bill is not. In short, we compliment one another in our skills and interests. I've always felt that was a big plus in our relationship.  However, it does not come without costs.



But here is the problem, with the new technology Bill finds himself having to ask me for directions. He hates to ask me for any kind of knowledge that he doesn’t have. After 45 years of denigrating my skills and knowledge, he finds it very difficult even to admit that he isn’t the expert in some areas.



For many years he even used to mock me for my use of a computer saying “I don’t know why you waste your time with a computer.” He said I wasn’t spending enough time with him (his usual complaint in our relationship.) I moved my computer from my home office to the kitchen so I could spend more time with him. That wasn’t good enough. The computer was banned back to the basement.



It wasn’t until a few years ago he discovered that the computer could be of use to him. Gradually, over the past few years I have taught him how to use the computer. He can open his e-mail and send e-mails. He does it in a rather convoluted way but it gets done. He also can scan the Internet. All this knowledge didn’t come without a lot of angst and frustration though. Teaching Bill to do anything requires a great deal of patience because of his sensitive ego and having the “kid” (the “kid” turned 68 years old last week) teaches him. One thing he has never mastered though is the cut and past command of Windows. He’s never had his Helen Keller Moment (“The Miracle Worker” scene with the water pump and bucket.)

So back to real time now. Bill just took off in his Jeep for who knows where. He’s mad. He’s frustrated. He knows that I’m trying to help him but his ego prevents him from accepting my help unless I somehow figure out to get that information to him so he thinks he figured it out himself. He wants the information but is incapable of hearing it from me, The Dummy.



He’ll get over it. He always does. But in the meantime I will have to endure yet another period of the Silent Treatment. This is where the “working on the relationship” comes into play.



Recently I had an e-mail from a friend of mine. She was depressed because of her living situation with her husband (her 5th.) She said she wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. That, to me is going to the extreme. I had another good friend of mine who committed suicide because she was going through a period of depression and felt there was no way out. A permanent solution to a temporary problem. I suggested to my friend that if she felt her husband really loved her then she should try to work it out. She should try to get through the bad period of their differences. I've had 45 years of experience in this area of relationships.  I find that if you really care for one another you can get past these temporary situations, even if they keep repeating themselves time and time again.



No relationship is perfect (except for perhaps the Ronald and Nancy Reagan relationship.) If your wife, husband or partner is worth it (and mine is), then just plow through the situation. Try to make it better the next time.



I care a lot for Bill. He needs me. I need him. I will never find another soul mate like him in my lifetime. When something like this happens (and it always will), I just think of how lucky I am not to have a partner like another friend of mine who I visited earlier this week. His partner has 160 personalities. He said “And that’s just the ones that I know about!” Can you imagine? Now that is something that would drive me over the cliff. No thanks. I’ll take Bill anytime, stubborn, super sensitive ego and all.

Domestic Discord

One would think that after 45 years of living together, two individuals could work things out and not have so many disagreements. If one would think that as it applies to me and my relationship with my Life Partner Bill, one would be wrong. Again, Bill isn't speaking to me.



This is a pattern he has repeated with regularity in all our 45 years of living together. I used to think I was at fault. Then about ten years ago I saw him do the same thing to his friend Damon. Bill met Damon at the cancer clinic where he was taking my Mother for her radiation treatments. Damon works at the clinic as a radiologist. They struck up a friendship right away. Damon is a very handsome man with crystal blue eyes. Bill always was a sucker for blue eyes (I have blue eyes.) Bill met Damon's large family (ten now and growing) and fell in love with them. Now if Bill could get mad at Damon for the flimsiests of reason, then it's on Bill. Damon is one of the most unselfish, good hearted people I've ever met. That was when I realized that Bill had these periods of getting mad a people that he liked very much just to test them and see if they really liked him. Bill was doing the same thing to his new friend Damon that he had been doing to me for many years. Some have asked why I put up with this. That would be a whole another subject for a future blog posting. I don't want to go into those areas on this post.


Well, one day Bill comes home early from a Saturday with Damon's family. I asked him what was wrong. He said he wasn't speaking to Damon. I asked him why? I forget the reason, but it was something of small import. Which is interesting because of all the big fights or disagreements Bill and I have had over the years it is always of things I can't remember. But, that was the day I realized "Maybe it's not me and it's Bill. Maybe Bill is the problem."



This afternoon we're driving back from Milton. I made a quick run to the local super market. I always ask Bill if he wants to go along for the ride. He usually does. Unfortunately, Bill has a bad, bad habit of back seat driving. In this case he's sitting in the passenger seat.



Once, at a Milton intersection he almost caused me to have an accident. I was waiting to go straight through the intersection behind a car that was waiting to make a left hand turn. Bill told me to pass the car on the right. Just to keep him from yelling at me, I proceed to pass the car in front of me on the right, crossing the solid white line as I did. As I was passing the car I almost hit an oncoming car making a left hand turn through the intersection going the opposite direction! Phew! That was a close call. I should never have passed on the right let alone across a solid white line. I said that out loud to no one in particular, that's just how relieved I was not to have a head on crash through that intersection. That was cause for Bill not to speak for me for over a week. He vowed never to ride with me again.



He eventually got over that mad on and began going with me on my errands. Most times he keeps his urges to himself of telling me how to drive. I've told him I don't know how many times, there is only one person at a time that can drive a car. But Bill has such an urge to control everything I do, he can't help himself. God forbid if I should offer advice to him on how to drive. Hell, I can't even tell him when he's pulling in front of a car that is about to hit us. I have to keep my mouth shut which I usually do except when I see we're about to be hit by another vehicle.



Bill is the classic Road Rage driver. That's why I would rather drive. There have been too many times in the past when I have been embarrassed by his uncontrollable temper. It's a wonder he hasn't been arrested.



This is the incident today that caused his rage. To get to where we live off of Rt. 1.  I have to make a left hand turn on Rt. 1. I have to wait for a break in the north bound traffic on Rt. 1. Sometimes there are northbound vehicles (I'm southbound when I'm making my left hand turn) waiting in the center island to make a right hand turn. Today was such a day. Two large Sposato landscaping vehicles were waiting to make a turn. Bill tells me to also pull in the island. Normally I would wait until these to vehicles made their turns then I would get into the island so I would have a clear view. But today I listened to Bill (again to avoid him yelling at me) and placed my car in the island. Once there I could not see the traffic going northbound on Rt. 1. Bill tells me "Go!" I hesitated because I couldn't see the traffic. He yells "Go!" again. I tell him "I can't see." He says "When I say Go! Go!" I didn't. I tell him "What's the hurry? We'll still get home." What? A minute later? So what? As usual with Bill there is no discussion (he would lose the argument anyway.) He yells "Hush!" "Hush!"



When we get home he goes into his bedroom and locks the door. I put the groceries away and go down and knock on the door. He says "Leave me alone!" So here we are again. I'll get the silent treatment for about a week on this episode.



I've seen this movie before. In fact, I've seen this movie many times. It's not one of my favorite movies.



In the past, when I used to think it was my fault, I would go out and buy some things. Yes, I was a classic spendaholic. I can't do these days. I'm poor. Plus, since I know it's not my fault, I don't have the guilt feelings I have to assuage. Now what I do is housework. Thus tonight was a perfect time for catch up on my cooking. Bill wouldn't be in the kitchen complaining about what I had on TV (the MSNBC lineup of Chris Matthews, Ed Schultz, Keith Olbermann and Rachel Maddow) so I could cook up a bath of food for the following week. That I did. Here is what I cooked (all homemade):



Meat loaf

Orange cake

Mashed potatoes

Chicken salad

I'm set for the week now. If he's still not speaking to me by Friday, I'll shampoo the rugs (he hates it when I shampoo the rugs, he doesn't think they need shampooing.) If he's not speaking to me by Saturday, then it will be a good time for me to finally attack my storage room in the basement and finally finish unpacking the remaining boxes of our move to Delaware in November of 2006.



Say, I wonder if this isn't all a ruse to get me to clean out those boxes? Nah.