Penthouse Condo 112 King St E PH04, Hamilton, Ontario, Canada

Pat is selling his penthouse condo in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. Why is he selling? Same reason I sold our beautiful house in Pennsylvania, TAXES!

Most of the people who live in our development here (fifty-seven homes) moved from the high taxes of the surrounding states of Delaware like Pennsylvania, New Jersey, New York and Maryland. 

Pat bought a smaller home in Hamilton, a city which he loves, that has a much lower tax bill. Now perhaps he can afford to live his retirement in comfort without the necessity of having three part-time jobs to pay his bills. Yes, Pat has THREE part-time jobs.  

If you want to buy Pat's condo, asking price is $999,999.00. A bargain!

Our Wonderful Neighborhood

This year marks ten years since we moved from our sylvan paradise in Pennsylvania to Delaware. My oh my, where did those ten years go? 

Bill and I have lived together for fifty-two years.  We started out in Bill's two bedroom garden apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey.  

We moved to a modern apartment complex in the Roxborough section Philadelphia after a few years because I wanted to be closer to my job at Girard Bank in Center City Philadelphia.

Then I had a year to walk to work (and the gay bars on the weekends) so we brought a townhouse in Center City Philly.  We lived there for eleven years until I started to feel constricted with the limitations of living in the city.  The almost constant wail of police sirens, the lack of grocery shopping opportunities and the novelty of going to the gay bars wore off. We then brought seven acres of land in nearby Chester County and built a classic, gambrel roofed, two story farm house.  We lived there for twenty-five years until I could no longer afford to pay the ever increasing real estate taxes. Pennsylvania is one of those tax confiscatory state.  Sales tax, state income tax, county tax, personal property tax, school tax, real estate tax, township tax.  We could no longer afford got live in the Keystone State.

For years (since the 70's) I often visited my good friend Bob McCamley, who lived in Sussex County, Delaware.  My good friend Larry lived (and still does) in Claymont Delaware. Every time they told me of the low taxes they paid, it only reinforced my desire to move to Delaware.  

So, after much thought and research, in the years 2006 I put our home in Pennsylvania up for sale and built a new home in Delaware.

I decided to move into a "development", a development.  A Ryan homes development to be specific. 

Now, wherever we moved it's always a roll of the dice who we have for neighbors.  At our last home in Pennsylvania, even though we moved into the relative isolation of the woods, we ended up with homophobic neighbors.  Yes folks, even though we consciously did not move into a neighborhood, we still had homophobic neighbors.  Neighbors who one time had their children on our border yelling "GO AWAY FAGS!"  Against the advice of Bill, who didn't want me to call the police, I called the police.  When the officer arrived the kids ran away to a waiting SUV of the dad.  The police officer knocked on their door and warned the wife (who was the main homophobe, I don't think her husband cared either way) and warned her she was breaking the law.  Pennsylvania has a Hate Crimes Law.

A couple of weeks later she went to the local police chief and wanted to know why he couldn't arrest me and Bill because we were gay.  Seriously, this is what she asked.  He told her that it was not against the law to be gay and sent her away.  She tried the crying jag outside his office but it didn't work.  She claimed that her kids were "in danger" because she had gay neighbors.  By the way, a week later Bill and I did get a hand written letter signed by the four kids apologizing for their behavior.  After receiving that letter Bill and I were never again subjected to taunts.  However, she did spread the word around the neighborhood about the "gaywads" who she was unfortunate enough to have for neighbors.  Now mind you, Bill and I never did anything but live our lives.  Our only "crime" was that we were two men living together.  The irony of this whole situation was that one reason we moved to the center of the woods on a seven acre parcel was so we wouldn't be subjected to homophobe neighbors like we witnessed a gay couple who lived the street down from us in center city Philadelphia was.  We also heard tales of other gay couples who lived in "family" neighborhoods who were the target of homophobic teens.  

When we brought our seven acre park in East Brandywine Township we didn't have these homophobic neighbors. That happened when the man who owned the land who sold us our parcel died and his land was sub-divided.  Yes, they moved in after we were already there and then they tried to run us out by homophobic taunts and spreading the word around the neighborhood that we were gay.  By the way, I have to give credit to two of our neighbors who confronted our homophobic neighbors and told them "Ron and Bill are our friends and we don't want to hear your hate."  

I will never forget a face to face with the neighbor who lived on the other side of our homophobic neighbor. I was over at their place on their back desk visiting them when the husband interrupted my conversation and said "Ron, are you gay?"  I said "Yes I am.  If that is a problem for you I can leave now."  His wife was so embarrassed.  I was embarrassed at how embarrassed she was but I understand that they would be uncomfortable with a "gaywad" on their back deck. After all, they had children too. He just glared at me but his wife said "No, you don't have to leave."  But the pink elephant was clearly on the deck with us.  I was never invited back.  Bill was mad at me because I "outed" us.  

On another occasion Bill was on our other neighbor's lawn waiting for a delivery.  We lived down a long, winding road in the woods.  You couldn't see our house from the road so sometimes Bill would go to the neighbor's lawn down front to flag down someone who was looking for us.  Bill had done this before without a problem. I thought we got along good with those neighbors but apparently not because the husband came out that day and asked Bill to leave.  He said "You make my wife feel uncomfortable."  I couldn't believe my ears.  This was the same neighbor who two boys broke out our roadway lights and we didn't complain to them or ask them to replace the lights.  This was the same neighbor who I thought we had a friendly relationship with but I guess that changed when our homophobic neighbors spread "the word."  I think this incident was the one that finalized my decision to move to Delaware. To get away from the high confiscatory Pennsylvania taxes. To get away from the homophobic neighbors who wanted to keep their neighborhood "family friendly."  

Thus, in 2006, against the advice of Bill who loved our wooded paradise, I put our house up for sale.  I wasn't going to live my retirement years, struggling to pay taxes for those homophobic straight people's kids to attend school. 

Southern Delaware, while conservative in many ways (and still is, both of our local representatives voted against marriage equality), promised a more welcoming environment. There was a large gay population, which I naively thought would be more accepting and friendly.  That didn't prove to be true but that's a subject for another (long) blog posting.  Let's just say Bill and I don't fit in because our "lifestyle" is that we don't camp it up and dress in drag for recreational fun and games. We also are not acceptable to the very cliquey gay sub culture here in the Rehoboth Beach. They're mostly D.C. retired government employees with generous pension payments.  Bill and I are of more modest means.  

But what did happen, much to our surprise, was that we did make friends with our straight neighbors in the neighborhood where we moved. Of course moving into any neighborhood is a roll of the dice, you never know who you're neighbors are going too be but I have to say we are very fortunate to have wonderful neighbors. And they're all straight!  And they know we're gay.  Imagine that?  Ironically, when we first moved here there was another male gay couple who I attempted to be friendly with but that didn't work out.  The one guy was a racist.  After he called our neighbor Marty the "N" word (she in the above video), we broke off the relationship. He died a few years ago and his partner/husband sold their house and moved out of the neighborhood.  

There used to be two lesbian couples in the neighborhood but lesbian couples (I have found) are standoffish to gay guys.  They say "Hi!" to you if you say "Hi!" to them but nothing goes further than that.  They have their own circle of friends just like the D.C. Gay Guys Clique.  

Bill is a generous and friendly human being.  I am too, although I do have my "moments" (smile). Thus it was with pleasure a few days ago, as we were returning form shopping at the local supermarket so see our neighbors Howard and Marty working in their front yard.  Bill asked me to stop the car so he could give Marty a hug.  

All of our other neighbors are just fine.  I don't know if there are any homophobes among them, probably are.  But I know this, in our declining years Bill and I are living in a neighborhood where we are comfortable and appreciated.  And we appreciate our neighbors! 

Welcome to Ron's World

 Remember that old Saturday Night Live skit "Wayne's World?" Well folks, welcome to "Ron's World"!

Yesterday morning, I began my usual routine after breakfast of taking the few steps to my home office.  As I was rounding the corner I noticed a snow falling lightly outside (as it is today too).  

I turned on my 27 inch iMac to check my e-mails and update my blog.  As I was doing so I noticed again the beauty of the gently falling snow outside.  At the same time I had my Pandora radio station on and it was playing a selection from the Bhudda Chill Out Lounge.  Who hasn't been to the Bhudda Chill Out Lounge?

So I decided an impromptu movie moment was in order via my iPhone.  So here it is folks, enjoy!

I love my home folks…..LOVE IT!  I grew up in apartments, our family never had our own home until I was a senior in high school.

2nd floor apartment front in the center of Downingtown, where I grew up - rent was $22.00 a month - the apartment building looks as dumpy today as it was when we moved there in 1948

My Mother and father and that's me with the big ass running up the steps to the apartment - funny, those steps seemed so much bigger when I was six years old

Then it was a 1,100 square foot ranch with three small bedrooms and one bathroom,  this for the five of us in the Tipton family. Me and my two younger (and much bigger brothers - we're all over 6'3") and my father (also over 6'3") and Mom (5'1").  It was a tight fit folks but is was our home.

Ariel view of the family home - first time we didn't live in an apartment

Front view of the 1,100 one bathroom family home - a tight squeeze for the five of us - my brother Isaac live there alone now - my bedroom was to the left with the awning - Isaac took the awning down

Then all too soon I was graduated from high school and joined the Army after a brief sojourn in the hospital (actually six months).  After the Army it was apartments again for Ron until I met Bill (my spouse).  After living in two apartments I urged him to buy a house.  Since then we've lived in three houses.  This one is the best although Bill would dispute that.  

Me and Bill's first house - a 16 ft by 50 ft town house in center city Philadelphia

Ariel view of our second house in the country on 6.875 wooded acres - Bill loved this house - I felt too isolated

Front view of our second house - the new owners have taken out most of the trees thus ruining the coziness of this location

These days folks, every day is a treat.  This is my final house.  I always say when I move again, they're going to take me out feet first.  And I wouldn't mind this musical accompaniment. 

Where we live now - can you tell a couple of gay guys live here?  Sure you can!  Check the flowers. We have the best floral display in the neighborhood.  Of course we do.