Night Driving

The glare of oncoming headlights

This evening Bill wanted me to take him for a drive to see the Christmas light decorations in our neighborhood. As I was driving through our neighboring development, I almost missed the exit.  I couldn't see! 

Folks, I have come to the realization that I can't drive at night anymore.  I can't see.  Unless the street is clearly lit, which in this neighborhood it wasn't,  I. CANNOT. SEE.  

For several years know I know I've been having a problem with the glare of oncoming headlights when driving at night. This I attribute to my slowly but surely oncoming cataracts.  My eye doctor every year informs me that I'm only a few years away from THAT operation.  This year he said "You have some time yet but they ARE there and will grow."  Thanks doc.

It was only a few years ago that I used to drive the ten miles one way to Rehoboth Beach down Route One (our main artery here in LSD) to meet friends for a festive dinner gathering at the Purple Parrot.  No more folks. Those days are past.  Not only because several of my friends have died passed on but because I wouldn't chance driving on Route One with all those glaring headlights.

I do drive home in the dark from my evening shift twice a week at the hotel but the traffic is light and I know the route.  But any other times, I fear I'm going that Old Person League and restricting myself to not driving at night. 

As Bette Davis said:

"Getting old isn't for sissies." Tell me about it.

Snow…..Again?

"It's cold out here baby!"

Are you kidding?  Snow again?  Yes Virginia, we had yet another snow storm here in the semi-tropical coastal plains of southern Delaware.  Holy smokes!

The road I take to work today

Here we go again folks.  Just when I thought the warm temperatures of Spring were about to lay on the land, yet another Blast of Winter.

Yesterday I spent the best part of the day putting together the iMovie of the Bloggerpalooza photos that Mark H. sent me.  See yesterday's blog for that movie.  Lots of work there folks!  Appreciate it.

Today I go back to work.  I'm so glad I didn't have to travel in that blizzard yesterday to go to work.  Been there, done that this year already.  

Ready to back out of the garage again and go to work today, on the ice

We've have some year with snow here in Lower Slower Delaware this.  Prior to the last TWO snowstorm (yep, it seems like every week we have a snow storm of four to eight inches), the local newspaper reported that we already had SEVEN times the normal snowfall for this area.  And here we are, almost in April and we're still having snow storms.  I think this is the last one.  I hope this is the last one.  

Casa Tipton-Kelly early this morning - a regular Winter Wonderland

The rest of this week is going to be pretty busy for me.  Work again tomorrow night then Friday I made an emergency appointment with my dermatologist.  A biopsy that he took off of my right leg near my knee isn't healing properly.  My pant leg keeps rubbing agains the scab, pulling it askew causing me more than a fair amount of pain and inflammation around where he took the biopsy.  Oh the joys of getting old and falling apart piece by piece.  

I'm getting there folks!

Last night I watched two more episodes of "The Good Wife", a program to which I am addicted.  It was so comforting to watch it in the comfort of my bedroom while the cold winds swirled around outside.  

The Good Wife cast - ohhhh sooooo good!

What I really feel sorry for are my daffodils.  They've tried so often to put on their fresh faced show this spring only to be knocked down for yet another snowstorm.

My poor beaten down daffodils

Green Side of the Grass

A friend sent me this in an e-mail.  OMG, it is SO TRUE.  For those of you who haven't reached your seven score plus, this is what you have to look forward to.  So, so true.  

All I know is that when I was young, it seemed to my like my youth was going to last forever.  I lived for the weekends.  Then, somewhere along the way, I got old.  Now I go to bed early on Saturday night.  Oh sure, every now and then I "live it up" and watch one of my Netflix rentals.  That is if I can keep my eyes open.  

So you young folks out there (and that's everybody under 50!), this is what you have to look forward to.  So, so true.

1946

2013

Friends Move To Assisted Living

Bob and Jim's new home

Yesterday our longtime friends Bob and Jim moved into an assisted living facility.  

Brandywine Assisted Living Rehoboth Beach, DE

We also celebrated Bob's birthday (which is actually today).

The"Birthday Boy" at the private dining room luncheon yesterday at Brandywine

So what did I think of this new home for my friends?  I was quite impressed.  Really, I was very impressed.

The lobby of Brandywine Assisted Living

Haven't we all at one time or another feared that we would finish out our twilight years in a "nursing home" or now known as an "assisted living facility?"  I know I have.

I'm 71 years old.  Bill is 84 years old.  We're both in relatively good health but what would happen to Bill if I was no longer around?  He has no family.  What would happen to me ten or fifteen years down the road and I am by myself and not able to take care of myself any longer?

My friend Bob is fortunate in that he has two nephews (and their wives) who are taking care of their beloved uncle.  I have a nephew and several nieces. I have many more grand nephews and grand nieces.  Nice as they are I cannot see them taking care of Uncle Ronnie in his Closing Chapter.  In fact, I wouldn't want to put that burden on them.

Group Shot of my friends, his relatives and me (smiling in the center) at Brandywine yesterday

So I went yesterday not only to wish my friend a happy birthday and attend a private birthday party for him but to check out the facilities.  And I have to say I was very impressed.  

I think the biggest plus that I took from this assisted living facility, which is called Brandywine Assisted Living, was that my friends would no longer be alone and isolated.  That is perhaps my biggest fear as I get older, next to the fear of a long and painful illness where I am dependent on others.  Loneliness, that is my fear.

My friends won't be lonely in their new home.  And that made me feel good.  Not only for my friends but that I now know that I have another option if and when I grow old and find myself alone in the world.  

Bob, Jim and me - 1980

I don't plan on being an 85 year old Ron but it is definitely possible.  What I can't see is living by myself or, even worse, living with someone else.  There is only one person I trust in this world other than my two brothers and my sister-in-law (and a few long time straight friends) and that is My Bill.  If Bill should go before I do, I know I will be serious trouble.  Bill has always taken care of me.  Not that I can't take care of myself, I do, but I've lived the past forty-eight years knowing that I could always count on Bill to support me.  I cannot imagine my life without Bill.  That's why sometimes I wish I would prefer to go before Bill.  But then I worry about what would happen to Bill because he literally has no family.  Now I know the answer, Brandywine Assisted Living.

More about Brandywine in a subsequent posting but for now we're going to get ready to visit our friends Bob and Jim in their new home, and also take Bob a birthday card because today is his 76th birthday.  Happy Birthday Bob!

Bob (center) and me (right) at an earlier birthday party I threw for him in 1982 when we worked in Philadelphia, PA

Where Do Old Gay Men Go? Part 2

Bottom right is my friends' apartment

Just got back from visiting my friends who temporarily moved into an apartment because they need more care.

Their situation isn't as bad as I thought.  For one thing they have plenty of light.  I am a firm believer that the amount of light we live in affects our disposition and moods.  I fear living in a dark place.  I would go crazy in a prison cell.  Fortunately my friends are living in a very nice apartment.

My friends at their dining room table - LOTS OF LIGHT!

Their situation is temporary until they can find a place of their own.  They are subletting this apartment from a connection of one of their friends from church.  They had to move to get closer in town for support that they will now need from their friends in their church.  Their church is the Metropolitan Community Church which is a gay orientated church.  It looks like they will get plenty of help from their church.  In fact someone was bringing a meal over for them at 5 o'clock today.  Tomorrow someone will come by to their apartment and taken them to church.

I don't go to church.  There is another potential support mechanism that I will not have in case I have issues as I get older.  For now Bill and I are supporting each other.  In fact, Bill is fixing the garage door opener as I type this blog entry. I'm cooking dinner.  No deliveries here.

The apartment my friends are in now is very comfortable and convenient.  I can see where living arrangements like that would be very advantageous to me if I should have problems in the future as I get older.  Of course I would prefer to stay in this mansion that we live in now but sometimes we don't have a choice, do we?

One thing though, I'm happy for my friends because they seem to be comfortable and well taken care of.

My friends - in a safe place well taken care of

Where Do Old Gay Men Go?

Bill on our deck today in the light

Recently friends of our were moved into an apartment.  Both of them have physical and mental problems.

This raises the question again of what happens to two old gay men who go downhill?  In the case of our friends the nephew(who has the power of attorney) of the one friend worked with two of the church members to move them out of their doublewide home on twenty-two acres of land.  Neither one of them can take care of themselves.  Their ages are 71 and 75.

Bill will be 84 in a few weeks and I'll be 71 in two months.  Both of us are in reasonably good health (both mental and physical) for two old men.  Of course we have our aches and pains but nothing approaching the mental and physical problems of our friends.  Who knows, maybe we'll be there someday.  But I don't think so nor does Bill.  We keep our minds active and get plenty of exercise.  Hopefully that helps in keeping at bay mental and physical decline.

Yesterday Bill and I took a ride to the apartment complex where are friends were placed.  All the apartments looked alike.  The only difference was the number on the door.  The buildings reminded me of one of those prisons on MSNBC's program "Lockup."  Yes, they looked like prisons.  Bill said "It looks like a place where you go to die."  Needless to say, it was a depressing visit.

The only window we could see was on the one side and it faced the parking lot.  Their "Unit" (which is part of their address) looked like a prison cell from the outside.  I would go crazy if I had to live in such a "unit."  Bill felt the same way.

We live in a beautiful development about six miles north of Rehoboth Beach, on the bayside.  Our house is spacious with a LOT of windows.  I need a lot of light to function.  If I lived in a "unit" like our friends I would become so depressed.  I get depressed in winter with the shorter days and lack of light. In our home in Pennsylvania I couldn't even work in our finished basement room because it didn't have natural daylight.  I need light.

We also have a huge back yard.  Both Bill and I like the change of seasons and all the activity that goes on in our backyard from the first birds in spring to all the plants and flowers.  We need this life to live.  Neither one of us can imagine living in a "unit" with one window to a parking lot.

Bill and I have made a pact.  We're not going anywhere.  The only time we're leaving this home is feet first.

"The Older Gentleman"

Me with an "Older Gentleman" in a Toccoa, Georgia antique store last summer

Yesterday my boss called me with a question about a guest's reservation.  He said the guest said she made her reservation with "the older gentleman."  Um.....I think that would be be since the other front desk clerks are two women (Lisa and Monica) and Robert, who is 28 years old.  I...AM...THE...OLDER...GENTLEMAN.

Me (on the right in the green) with the other "Older Gentleman" who used to work at the hotel

Well folks, this is still taking some getting used to.  It wasn't so bad when Lisa's predecessor worked at the hotel.  His name was "Bob" also but he was actually a few years (four) younger than me but because he had the white hair, when a guest referred to "the older gentleman", we all knew they were probably referring to Bob.


However, Bob left the hotel a few years go so now I have assumed the mantle of "the older gentleman."  How do I feel about it.  Bemused actually.  At one time, when I was  younger, I guess I would have been put off by being referred to as "the older gentleman."

Right now I'm reading a book about a gay couple in Provincetown, Mass in the 1990's.  I was interested in this book because I vacationed often in Provincetown in the 70's and early 80's.  The time period of this book takes place in the early 90's, past my prime time.  For you see folks when you're gay like me, your expiration date runs out pretty fast.  Mine ran out when I was 37 years old.  That was in 1978.

I remember exactly when it ran out too.  I was standing in the 247 Bar in Philly one summer Saturday night.  Two a.m. rolled around and the bartender flashed the lights on and off three times and yelled out "last call!"  And as any self-respecting gay man knows, if you're still in a gay bar when they flash those lights and yell "last call!", you know your time is up.  As they say, stick a fork in him, he's done.

I remember clearly what I thought.  "What am I doing here?"  I thrill of meeting someone new had long since gone.  I was going to the bars on the weekend out of habit,  a habit of fifteen or so years.  I just remember I was so tired that night and all I wanted to do was go to bed....alone.  I couldn't be bothered with the whole rigmorale of taking someone home, going through the motions and getting them out.  Oh no, I was done with that.   Besides, I was never the one for the whole acrobatics of sex anyway.  I'm a romantic.  I always enjoyed just being with someone than I did hopping in the sack.  If I was a woman I guess I would be called frigid.  Whatever.

Anyway, I gave IT up that Saturday night on that hot summer night in July of 1978.  I stopped going to the bars.  Oh sure, over the years I've been to a few bars since then but only as an observer.  Sure, I still attracted some attention but as I said before (and B.B. King also said) "The thrill was gone."  


I find this book I'm reading about the trio of gay protagonists in Provincetown so fascinating.  The narrator is thirty years old.  He is bemoaning the fact that he is "so old."  He feels he cannot attract the younger guys any more.  He's afraid he will be like his first boyfriend who is "really old" at 37 years old!  Thirty-seven?  My God, that's a mere child.  Are you kidding me?

Oh how I remember when I was that age.  I thought the same thing too.  In fact, the first man I was intimate with was 29 years old to my 21 years.  I thought he was SO OLD.  Oh sure, I was terribly attracted to him but I did think HE WAS OLD.  Oh the folly of youth.  What was it that Noel Coward said?  "Youth is wasted on the young?"  So true, so true.

I remember when I was in my early twenties and I would see these OLD gay guys hanging out at the bar.  In fact some of them had their own bars which we (my young friends and I) called "wrinkle bars."  Ah ha. Guess what?  I'm there!  And another "guess what?"  I don't care.

I often wondered how those old gay guys could live with themselves, being SO OLD.  Now I know, IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER.  It really doesn't.

I've given a lot of thought to why I feel this way.  Maybe it is because of a loss of testosterone as I got older.  Maybe it is a realization there is more to life than jumping in the sack and doing the sexual acrobatics (which I rarely got full satisfaction from by the way).  Oh, don't misunderstand me.  Every now and then a really good-looking guy will check into the hotel and I have to catch my breath before I can speak to him.  All my bodily functions still work.  I still get stimulated.  A friendly smile and some attention from a handsome man still gets my blood rushing.  But as far as doing anything about it, well, that probably isn't going to happen.  But no great regrets though.  I had my time and I do enjoy looking.  I'm just glad I'm not like a longtime acquaintance of mine who still haunts the beach in Rehoboth for the anonymous  sex. God am I glad I'm not a pitiful figure like him.

So when I get these reference "I was talking to the older gentleman last night", I am always bemused.  Hey, I'm glad I made it this far.  I love life and appreciate every day I am on this earth.  In fact, I appreciate and get more out of life at now than I ever did when I was just another pretty face in the bar.

Back when I was another pretty face in the bars - 1967

Bill Gives Up His Jeep

Bill in his Old Buggy - his 1990 Jeep Laredo

This morning Bill made The Decision.  What decision is that you might ask?  The decision to give up his car.

Bill has been driving for 67 years, since he got his driver's license at age 16.  Bill is 83 years old now. 

Perhaps one of the hardest decisions as we get older is the decision to give up driving.  Bill hasn't given up driving.  He has only given up his car.

Bill has had a 1990 Jeep Laredo.  He brought it brand, sparkling new with part of his severance package from General Electric.  He expected this car to last him the rest of his life.  Well guess what?  He's outlived the car. 

This past month he's spent $690.00 for repairs.  Now he's told he has to have more repairs which will cost at least another $1,100.  Time for a new car.  When you get to the point where you're just pouring money into a rust bucket (the engine), time for a new car.

So we go out this morning and look at used cars.  Sticker shock.  Used cars, 68,000 miles, 2005 $16,000?  What is going on here?  We can't afford a new car. 

Bill checking the used vehicles yesterday - sticker shock!

We go back to Kenny of Kenny's Auto Repair and Bill offers to make him a deal.  Knock some of the repair price off of his old rust bucket Jeep Laredo and Bill will sell him the car.  Kenny works on cars.  Maybe he can fix it up in his spare time and sell it to some kid for their first car.

Bill checking the used cars - high mileage, high prices

Bill make the propostion to Kenny.  After some negotian Kenny goes for the deal!  Great!

Now here is the new reality.  No longer will Bill cart my behind all over southern Sussex County whenever the whim hits me to "go out."  I will drive.  Uh huh.  Okay, I can handle that.  But can Bill handle not having his own wheels? This is a big psychological step in a man's life. 

Bill in his new set of wheels - my chariot 

Return Visit To My Dermatologist

"I got a hole in my back!"

First of all, apologies to the readers of my Word Press blog because I'm going to do a repeat here, I also posting a this story to my Word Press blog today.

This morning I returned to my dermatologist to have the one stitch removed from my forehead.  Remember that wart like growth that popped out of my left temple a few weeks ago like a volcano?  I worry about these things, could be cancer.  Well, I have good news.  It wasn't cancer.

My dermatologist told me it was "only" keratosis.  Not even actinite keratosis, which is a pre cancerous condition.  For the past twenty-five years I have had numerous actinide keratosis spots removed from my face.  This was only a benign growth, my dermatologist said. I dodged another bullet!

His assistant removed the one stitch that was in my forehead the past week.  Didn't hurt at all.  She was good.

My doctor told me to take off my shirt and tee shirt and lay on my stomach on the pummel horse bench that is the common fixture in all doctor's office. Oh the stories that contraption could tell if it could talk.

The pummel horse bench was covered in that crinkly butcher type paper (how appropriate) and was cold!  I took off my clothing and rather awkwardly tried to position myself (what do I do with my arms?) on the bench.  It was cold.  Oh, I said that already.

He then gave me a needle in my lower back where he was going to remove the cyst growth near my spine in the small of my back. I've had this cyst removed twice before in years past (as long ago as 1986) but my doctor said they "didn't go deep enough."  Uh huh, sounds like we're going to do some DIGGING here, always fun.  Stick that needle in doc and numb me up!

In a few minutes I'm numbed up.  Now all those names I've been called over the past years like Numb Nuts and Numb Skull one could add Numb Back.  Doesn't quite have the same ring though does it?

So the small of my back is numbed up.  My doctor grabs his scalpel and proceeds to dig....and dig....and dig.  No pain but I could feel the pressure.  That's MY MEAT he's digging into!

Finally he says "Ah ah! "  Then he shows me the recalcitrant invader that took residence up in the small of my back.  It was pink and bloody and big as a large walnut!  Another Piece of Me gone!

The "aftermath" - that's my blood folks!

In the medical waste he tosses it.  He applies three stitches and then bandages me up and tells me not to take a shower for twenty-four hours.  Good thing I took a shower last night.

Before I put my clothes back on I asked if I could take his picture for my iPhone Address book.  He reluctantly agreed.  He wasn't real thrilled but let me take TWO photos. The first one was blurred which is the one I'm posting here.  The other went directly into my Address Book.

My dermatologist - he's taking good care of this Old Man

My next appointment is two weeks from now.  I guess that is how long it will take that hole in the small of my back to heal up.

Again, more proof of that old Bette Davis quote:  "Getting old isn't for sissies!"

Hey, I may be a SISSY but I'm not a sissy.

But Ya Ahh Blanche, Ya Ahh In That Chair!

Ain't I pretty? Ron sans makeup.  Head wound exposed.  

Okay folks, here it is "Head Wound Ron."  The numbness has worn off, the pain is gone, and I took the bandage off.  I have one stitch in my noggin for the next week.  I have to apply a band aid again for the next two days then I let my cut forehead open to the air.  I get the stitch out next Friday.

Dr. Chang will perform another procedure on me at that time.  This time to remove a growth at the base of my backbone.  I'm not looking forward to that cutting either.  I don't like to have my body sliced upon.  Needs to be done though.  I feel like I'm falling apart.  Wait, I am falling apart.

The Head Wart Comes Off Today

My Uninvited Guest - a seborrheic keratosis wart 

Today at 12:30 I have an appointment with my new dermatologist.  A couple weeks an uninvited wart like lesion popped up on my left forehead.  In addition to being unsightly, it is annoying because I constantly rub it when I was my face.

About twenty years ago I developed Seborrheic Keratosis as a "reward"for all my years of lying on the beach working on my tan.  Yes, all the warnings about developing skin cancer were true.  I am living proof.

I knew something was wrong because every time I shaved something hurt on the left side of my face.  I made an appointment to see a dermatologist at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia.  I worked at Fidelity Bank which was just a few blocks away.

Dr. Uy (Chinese) diagnosed my problem right away and advised me to take a topical chemotherapy treatment.  This involved putting a salve like substance called Efudex all over my face.  This was over the Christmas and New Year's holidays during 1991 and 1992.  What I didn't know was that this treatment burned off the outer layer of my skin.  It hurt like hell!  My face was beet red.  When I got on the elevator at work, people parted like the Red Sea to give me space.  One of my co-workers hesitantly asked me "What happened to you?  That looks like it hurts."  I told her that I was getting a skin peel (more like skinned alive) and "Yes, it hurts like hell!"

The one good thing about my treatment, was that after it was over I had a whole new layer of skin.  As someone helpfully told me, "your skin will be as smooth as a baby's ass."  And it was.  No wonder Cher gets these treatments all the time.

Since that discovery some twenty years ago, I have been going to a dermatologist at least every six months to remove any new signs of pre cancerous lesions, Seborrheic Keratosis, on my skin.  About half the time I get the dry ice treatment. I remember one time I had several spots removed.  As I layer my head back my dermatologist, Dr. Dvorkin (yes, very similar sounding name to YOU KNOW WHO) put dry ice on the three spots to burn them off.  Little puffs of smoke billowed up in the air from my burning skin.  The Good Doctor said "Does that hurt?"  Well, I GUESS!  I'M SMOKING AREN'T I?

So here I go again today folks.  I am not a Happy Camper.

What was it that Bette Davis said?  "Getting old isn't for sissies!"  

The Old Jalopy

Sleek car, sleek me in better days

When one reaches seventy years of age a myriad of aches and pains await One.  I am no exception.

I have been fortunate most of my life in that my health has been good.  Except for a close call with death when I was seventeen years old and I got a staph infection from a hernia operation, I've been sailing through life without any serious medical issues.

But, just like a new car that is starting fall apart, there are little "things" that are starting to catch up with me.  Continuing on with the new car analogy; no matter how expensive, good-looking or well built, a new car will eventually start falling apart just like a less expensive car.  Sure, I may be able to keep up the good appearance longer but eventually everything wears out.  Old Ron here is starting to wear out.

My latest medical issue came to cropper last night.  My right leg has a fluid retention.  I guess this has been going on for some months now but I really didn't pay attention to it.  I know that if I sit at the computer too long in one position my right light will numb up.  Eventually, when I get up and walk around the numbness goes away.  However, lately I notice that the numbness doesn't completely go away.

I've been noticing that my ankles have been disappearing.  Especially my right ankle.  I'm one of those guys who have super skinny legs.  My ankles has always been very prominent like my Adam's apple.  How I can hardly see my ankle.  My left ankle isn't as bad but it isn't as defined as it used to be either.

Now my right leg hurt from the ankle up to the knee.  From a discussion with a friend of mine over the weekend (he had a similar condition) he said it looks like I have a water retention issue with my lower extremities.  He said his doctor gave him a prescription and it went away.  His only regret was that he will have to take that prescription the rest of his life to keep the fluid out of his lower extremities.

I looked up my condition on the Internet.  I could have a serious issue of maybe it's just an issue of proper exercise and diet.  I know when I get up in the morning my leg isn't a swollen as it is before I go to bed.  Maybe my condition has something to do with elevating my legs.  Something that would be hard for me to do since I'm on my feet a lot, especially at work.

Some of the more serious conditions could be kidney failure or congestive heart failure.  I certainly hope I don't have anything like that.  I have had kidney stones (twice - an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy).  I also have Gilbert's Syndrome with is a non-life threatening liver issue.  My bilirubin levels are always high but the VA assures me that I can life a long and full life with this condition.  I don't even take medication for it.

Of course the latest big issue that I have is my Prostate Problem.  Two consecutive blood tests have indicated an abnormally high PSA score.  I'm scheduled for a biopsy on January 6th, thus the reason I'm not really in the Christmas Mood this year.

So this morning I put in a call to my doctor at the VA.  I left a message with the receptionist that my right leg is swollen and hurts.  I'm hoping all I need is a prescription for a diuretic that will clear this problem up. Like I said, I am staring to feel like a once splendid car that is quickly turning into an old jalopy.

"Patch me up for a few more miles!"

Seventy Years of Ron

Yesterday was my 70th birthday.  Yes folks, I am officially and OLD MAN.  Funny thing that, I don't think like and Old Man.  In my mind I'm still that starry eyed and naive Twenty Something looking forward to what adventures in life await me.  And then every morning after I get up and look at myself in the bathroom mirror I think "Who is THAT?" looking at me from the other side of the mirror.  "WHAT HAPPENED?"

I got OLD, that's what happened.  Seriously though folks, I'm feeling good about making it this far in life.  I've had a good life and have few regrets.  Sounds like I"m going to break into a Frank Sinatra song doesn't it?  Yes, I am very happy with where I am in life.

I honestly didn't think I would make it this far in life.  I fully expected to be gone by the time I reached my 60th year on this planet.  Anything after that is gravy.  Yes folks, I'm living on gravy now!

Yesterday, I made this quickie movie with my iMovie on my wonderful iMac (thank you Steve Jobs!)  Nothing fancy, no intro or impressive graphics, just a random selection of photos of my throughout my life.
There are a couple of mistakes in the movie which I hope no one notices.  One is a duplicate photo and there are two or three crotch shots.  I tried to change those photos but the other photos worked out so with in synchronization with the remaining photos that I just left everything in.  Deal with it folks.  And yes, I have a couple of photos of me with some of my boyfriends.  I am gay, no reason to hide that at this time in my life.  I came out of the closet when I was 21 years old and never looked back and I'm not going to start now.

This is only the second time I made an iMovie.  The first one I made was for my Mother's funeral.  I will make copies of this DVD and send it to some of my friends.  If I don't get around to making a more polished DVD movie of My Life In Photos, please use this DVD at my memorial.

These days I'm thinking a lot about Getting My Life In Order for my not too soon departure.  Hey, I have to be realistic.  At seventy years old I don't have a lot of time left.  It has been a good life folks.  I hope to be around a lot longer but if that is not what fate hold in store for me, then I have absolutely no regrets.  This is one happy seventy year old.

Thank you to everybody who wished me a happy birthday yesterday.  I love you all!

A Pasttime With a Purpose

Downingtown High School Track Team 1959
My friend George is in the middle in the back and 
that's me kneeling (what else?) on the bottom row 
(and no comments about "bottom" please!)

I don't like to play games.  I used to like to play games when I was a kid but I don't like to play games now.  By that I mean computer games, baseball or football, or even card games.  Not that there is anything wrong with playing games.  I just don't have an interest in that activity anymore.

In a few months I will be 70 years old.  There is also a good possibility I have prostate cancer.  I just talked to my younger brother today on FaceTime.  He had his second pacemaker installed.  When it was installed his bladder failed so now he is catheterized.  My other younger brother has diabetes.  Not the easy kind but the kind where he has to poke a needle in his stomach daily and check his blood sugar level several times day.  Many of my longtime friends and former co-workers, some of whom are younger than me, are now gone.  Some of the friends I have left are ill.  The last few years I am constantly reminded of my mortality.

Thus I have renewed my hobby of updating my Find a Grave.com account.  I also am updating my Ancestry.com family tree account.  I receive a great deal of satisfaction from this activity.  I feel like I am doing something worthwhile.  Something that is left behind when I eventually do depart this earthly plane for whatever destination awaits me.

This is my latest "find" today.  My former friend (who I haven't seen in over fifty years) died a few years back.  I couldn't attend his funeral.  I didn't know where he was buried.  I did find his obituary and posted it to Find a Grave.com.  However, I didn't have a picture of his grave.  I requested a photo of his grave through the Find a Grave.com network of volunteers, or which I am also one and have been for over three years.  Today a kind soul took a picture of my former friend George Bird's grave.  I look at his gravestone and I want so bad to tell George "What a cool gravestone you have George!"  He would understand the humor in that statement.

His gravestone is actually pretty cool.  I'm about ready to order my own.  I have been undecided up to now but I think I will go with one of these polished black marble headstones.  You have to admit they do look pretty cool.  I do so want to leave a statement after I'm gone.

Find a Grave.com memorial for my friend George Bird

Man Boobs

Self-portrait this morning of my deteriorating body

Now that I have reinforced my policy of being unashamedly honest in my blog postings, I will now address one of the developments of my aging process.  

As regular readers of this blog know, I am 69 years old and frequently write about my view from this vantage point in my life.  Other than the expected aches and pains that come with getting older, I have no complaints about getting older.  A few months ago I read a friend's blog posting in which he expressed some concern over discovering his first wrinkle (yes, Mark, that's you I'm talking about).  I was amused over his concern.  Heck, I discovered my first wrinkles back in the 80's.  I wasn't bothered at all by that development.  I felt it gave my face more character.  Wrinkles never turned me off on anyone.

However, there is another development that I have recently discovered.  I think I'm getting man boobs!

Some years ago there was a very funny Seinfeld episode in which George's father had man boobs. I laughed along with everyone else who saw that Seinfeld episode.

Provincetown 1979 - before the Fall

All my adult life I've been proud that I've been able to maintain my weight at around 160 lbs.  I've always been lean.  However, I fear time and gravity has taken its toll.  I weigh the same but now I have the boobs that are turning floppy.  I have a spare tire.  I also have the makings of a pot belly.  The three parts of the man's body that is the first to go.  With women it is generally their thighs and butt. 

I guess I could up my exercise routine and do some kind of exercise to firm my boobs, waist and abdomen.  But then I think not.  I just get so tired anymore.  

However, I can take some comfort knowing I'm not alone.  Hey, checkout "AH-NOLD"!

Arnold Schwarzenegger - Before and After

Just Shoot Me

I have been accused by some friends of writing what I think.  Guilty as charged.  Here I go again,   I'm going to write exactly what I think after my experience dining out with some of my older gay friends tonight at the weekly Friday Night Dine Out Group. If this is too much reality for some of my blog readers, then I suggest you stop reading right here and go on to the next blog which I assume will be more vanilla.  But if you stay with me, you have to know I'm going to write exactly what I think.  Well, to an extent.  I've found out lately that I do have to temper what I write because just about EVERYONE reads my blog, including some of my neighbors and friends of whom I do not want to offend or disrespect. So I walk the narrow line with writing exactly what I feel without stepping on too many toes.  Unfortunately I've already stepped on a few toes that will no longer be back to my blog, but be that as it may.  Can't do anything about that now.

So here is the point I want to make in this blog.  As you all know I'm 69 years old.  I don't think 69 years old.  In my mind I'm still a young 37 years old.  Thirty-seven years of age was when I was at my peak in looks, mental agility and earning power. Ever since then it's been a downhill slide.  I know folks like Dr. Spo advise me not to speak of my age but it is what it is.  This is the perspective I'm writing from, the prospective of an older gay man who is reaching the end of his life.  My mental processes are slowing down as is my looks and earning power.  As I said earlier, I'm on a downward slide.

I'm not complaining, just stating a fact.  In fact, I think I'm doing pretty well for an Old Guy.  I still turn an head occasionally, especially someone who finds an old skinny guy attractive.  My mind is still capable of running a household and holding down a part-time job at a busy hotel.  I still interact well with people both on a personal level and professional level.  Granted, my physical stamina isn't what it used to be.  I do need a nap (at least an hour or more) every afternoon or else I really wind down.  When I'm tired I really show it.  My eyes are half closed (I can't open them) and my brain just doesn't function the way it should.  But if I get plenty of rest and try to keep the stress levels in my life low, I still manage quite well...for an Old Guy.

Now, having said this I want to relate the experience I had at the Friday Night Dine Out Group tonight.  Sitting across the table from me were two older gentlemen who I hadn't met before.  I don't know how old they were but I suppose in their late 70's or early 80's.  Since we were sitting across from each other it was natural for us to have a conversation.  That is one of the points of the Friday Night Dine Out Group, older gay men getting together once a week to meet and form new friendships.  Friendships, not hookups.  At our age hookups are a thing of the past.  Friendships only, which can be just as rewarding if not more so.

So here I am tonight trying to have a conversation with these two older guys (who I assume are partners), and I'm having a difficult time.  The one guy talks so hesitatingly and slow that I almost drifted off during our "conversation".  In fact, he was so slow I forgot what we were talking about.  Plus he was hard of hearing.  I was worn out after our conversation.  The other guy talked so low that I could hardly understand him.  I had to keep asking him to repeat himself.  All I could think of with these two guys was ....Dinosaurs.

I mean no disrespect to either of these two gentlemen and I am sure they're both fine fellows but please, PLEASE....if I ever get this way will someone PLEASE SHOOT ME!

The Last Day of Earth

As regular readers of my blog know, I'm not a religious person.  Or more accurately, I'm not a practicing religious person.  I don't believe in what I can "man made religion."  However, I do consider myself a spiritual person.  There are times in my life that I have secretly prayed to 'find the way."  Again, I am not a Bible Thumper and I don't subscribe to the mean spirited version of Christianity (and other religions) that are practiced today.  The religion of fear.  The God that says "Do as I say or I will damn you to the eternal fires of hell."

I don't believe there is a big, muscled, white man with a long white beard and a stern look on his face. wearing a white toga sitting on a golden throne in the sky playing games with those of he supposedly created below on this earth.  Such a game like having me born gay and then threatening me with eternal damnation unless I change my natural born ways.  No, that is not the God or Way that I believe.

This is what I believe.  I believe that you do your best during your stay on this earthy plane, be it only a few years or many years as I have done so far.  While risking another gentle rebuke from one of my favorite bloggers when I refer to my old age I am saying that at this time of my life (69 years and counting) I think a lot about my past years and what few years I have left on this earth (less than I have lived, that's for sure).

I have done some things I haven't been proud of and I have done more things that qualify me as a genuine Christian in my eyes if not the eyes of the organized "man-made" Christian church.  I feel that if there is such a place called heaven, that I will enter through those hallowed gates.  I will again see my friends, family and pets who have predeceased me.  These days I think a lot about this subject.

Today, after a long, hard day of work I opened my e-mails to find this e-mail from a long-time friend of mine.  While I don't agree with the degree to which my long-time friend practices his faith (he believes you have to accept Jesus Christ to enter into Heaven - I do not agree - I think that is the old "man made" interpretation), I do respect his views.

On this day, which an old idiot has claimed to be the Last Day On Earth (and he is an idiot, that is the only way to describe that nut case), I think it was very appropriate that I spent the best part of the day seeing a family (Jewish) prepare for a wedding at the hotel where I work.  All in this family were so happy.  Their joy was overflowing, so much that all my usual cynicism of such a corny family event was washed away.  I left the hotel this afternoon, an hour and a half before the actual ceremony thinking of this young, beautiful couple and the happy life that they have before them.  I thought of all their family and friends who  made the special trip to the hotel where I work to join their ceremony and celebration.

As I write this the couple is now married.  Their family is rejoicing.  All will celebrate through the night and tomorrow, which will be the first day of their new life.

While they're beginning their life, I can see mine coming to and end.  And I have no regrets. Thus it was so appropriate that when I opened my e-mail a few minutes ago and watched this video that reaffirmed the way I feel at this time of my life.

Thank you Bill.

Longer Hair, Shorter Hair?

Ron - Screen Shot with iMac April 13, 2011 - longer hair

All my life I've had an abundance of hair (on my head that is - some chest hair but none on the shoulders-thank God).  Even as I got older my hair was still think even as my hairline began to recede.  I clearly have my father's hair pattern. I have the same 'widow's peak' receding hairline that he had.  The only difference is that he was blonde and always had thin, fine hair.  I get my dark, brown, thick hair from my Mom.  

Me- 1943 - My Mom loved my long hair so much she didn't want to cut it

About ten years ago I as my hairline started to recede I was having more problems keeping my "Howdy Doody" pompadour style hairdo because of the lack of hair my hair didn't have the weight to maintain that youthful style .  I cut it all off and adopted a 'buzz cut'.  

Me - 1951 - Howdy Doody 'Do' - same with the shirt too - I loved that shirt!

The Buzz Cut was easy to maintain.  I threw away my comb, I didn't need it.  I was a porcupine head.  It was great!  But then a funny thing happened on the way to Old Age (sorry Dr. Spo, here I go again referring to my old age), I noticed that almost all of the gay guys down here in Gayberry (aka Rehoboth Beach/Lewes/Milton area of coastal southern Delaware) went for the totally shaved look to mask their male pattern baldness which left the whole top of their plate bald.  

Me with my Buzz Cut days at First Financial Bank 2004

Now anyone who knows me knows that I don't go along with the crowd, especially the Gay Dictates crowd.  You know, that's the Crowd that dictated that NO MEN ARE TO EVER SHOW CHEST HAIRS AGAIN.  In fact, I hear this crowd even 'trims' their pubic hairs and shaves their balls.  WTF is that?  Somebody on display?  I'm out of that Social Whirl (thank goodness).  The only person who sees my naked body is me when I look in the mirror before I take a shower (and when I finish a shower- double checking to make sure nothing changed).  

Me - Fifth Grade - 1952 - hard to manage all that thick hair!

Well, Ron veers away from the Gay Fashion Dictates again.  I decided to let my hair grow out a few months ago. By the way, I shave no hair on any other parts of my body.  Deal with it Gay Fashion Police.

Me 1982 - the longest I've ever had my hair - yet I still didn't fall victim to the Fashion Police and have the 'Helmut Do' so popular in the 80's with the hair half over the ears - I always keep my ears exposed! My Mom loved my hair this way! Major Maintenance!

I bought a comb, preparing myself for the inevitable maintenance my long hair would entail.  Guess what!?!  My hair has naturally thinned out.  I don't know whether it is because of the medication I take (Terazosin for prostate) or just a natural occurrence of getting older.  My hair doesn't require much maintenance.  It all falls into place.  

Me at the Hampton Inn 2000 - my favorite short 'Buzz Cut' style - no maintenance!

When I was younger I always envied my classmates and who had naturally short hair that 'fell into place" and looked so movie star-like.  I hated my bushy hair that always had to be thinned out when I got a haircut at the barber and I still couldn't comb it right.  There was a period in the Eighties when I let my hair grow really long but that required a lot of maintenance.  I always had to have a comb at the ready.  I am very happy now because I finally have the kind of hair that naturally 'falls into place'.  

Me 1986 - semi-long style - it worked!  Long haired pooches.

So here I am today with my new look.  A little gray on the side, some gray in my beard, but a natural 'do.'  I don't need hair spray, I don't need a comb over, I don't need hair plugs.  While I don't have the hairline I had fifty years ago (or even ten years ago), at 69 years of age, I still have more hair that that new groom to be.   You know, THE MOST ELIGIBLE BACHELOR IN THE WORLD:  PRINCE WILLIAM.

Looking good Wills!

Prince William, here is my suggestion for you:  join the ranks of my gay brotherhood (or is it 'sisterhood'?) and go for the Shaved Head Look.  It is SO IN.  

OMG!