I'm Tweeting!

A little dabble here and a little dabble there.  I've heard all the fuss about Tweeting and wondered what it was besides Ashton Kuchter's ego trip to see how many followers he could get. I discounted Twitter because what in the world would Ashton Kuchter have to say that would interest me? Absolutely nothing, that's what.

So I'm bouncing along everyday, thinking I'm pretty cool, connected to all the latest social media like Facebook, Blogger, e-mails and what not.  Hey, reality bytes again!  Turns out I wasn't quite as cool as I thought I was.  I guess in deep down in my very core I know I will always be that kid who was chosen last when my gym class picked out team members.  BTW, wasn't that the WORST thing in high school besides getting nekkid in the showers?  More on that EXPERIENCE in a future blog but as I was saying......

Here I think I'm about the coolest 71 year old "techie" around these parts in Retirement Village, Delaware and I've been missing Twitter.  Turns out I was just fooling myself....again.

You all know me, I'm the guy who used to write all those "Letters to the Editor" of the hometown newspaper.  I even wrote a few to national magazines.  Funny thing, almost all my letters were published too.  And yet here I stagnate in anonymity.

Bill O'Reilly of Fox News "Fair and Balanced" (sure)

When e-mail came along I used to zip a few off to the TV cable TV stations.  This was back when I used to watch Fox News (can YOU BELIEVE IT?)  Bill O'Reilly read half a dozen of my letters on the air.  Neil Cavuto even read two of them.  I have to give them credit because my views were always different from theirs but they still read the letters from "Ron of Downingtown, Pennsylvania."

Then came a time when I had to sell our house in Pennsylvania and move to our new house in Delaware.  I could no longer afford to live in Pennsylvania (taxes) and besides, I always wanted to live "near the water". That drama unfolded in January of 2006. Built the house in Delaware (with a monster mortgage) and TRIED to sell the house in PA with an equity loan to pay the down payment on the Delaware house.  Well, that nightmare lasted until November of 2006 when I finally sold the PA house.

So for the past six years I've been settling in my new "near the water" digs which is actually two miles from "the water" - couldn't afford anything closer and didn't want to anyway - too many nor'easters and hurricanes skirting up our Delaware coast.

Rehoboth Beach, Delaware

Got my blog set up, making friends 'round the country.  Losing some who don't agree with some of my opinionated blog entries.  Still doing the e-mail thing but e-mails aren't what they used to be.  Now a days checking my e-mails is like plowing through a field of snail mail, looking for the "real" mail.  Very tiring and wasteful of my remaining time on this planet.

So I'm still hearing a LOT about "Tweet this" and "Tweet that".  Time to check the Tweet again. Guess what?  Just what I've been looking for!  I can now zip out my opinions in real time on "The Internets".  I can also see real time what others are saying and thinking, especially watching a show or event on TV like the recent presidential debates.

Folks, I jumped in with both feet last week and I'm loving it!  I'm Tweeting up a storm.  Of course I am very aware that some will think "who the f--k is this?"  "Who cares?"  Doesn't matter folks.  I have to get IT out of me when I think it.  That's just the way I am.  That's my style. I'm also not as lonely and that is probably one of the main reasons people Tweet.  I HAVE to stay connected.  I HAVE to matter.

It's a big world out there folks.  We may be but a little grain of sand on the beach along with all the other little grains of sand but I think deep within us each on of us would like to know that we matter.  I know I do and I'm not ashamed to admit it.

Earth- the beautiful "blue marble" we live on

Now, just what the hell is going on with John McCain.  Is he having a Bitter Old Man Sore Loser Meltdown or what?  Excuse me while I Tweet out that message.

Have a great day!

Loneliness - Friends

My four pet chickens - good friends

Who among us isn't lonely at one time or another?  One doesn't have to be alone to be lonely.  You could have a Mother Goose house full of kids and an adoring spouse and still be lonely.  You could be the Belle of the Gay Ball in Rehoboth Beach and be lonely.  And yet, you could live alone and not be lonely.

I've also considered myself a loner.  I like to be alone.  Yet, I often feel lonely.  Sounds crazy doesn't it?  Hey, I've been trying to figure myself out for the last seventy years.

I am the oldest son in a family of five.  I have two younger brothers.  Growing up they were best friends, I kept myself aloof from them.  Probably because I knew I was "different".  By "different" I knew I was gay by the time I was four years old.  Of course I didn't know what "gay" was or even the word but back then I certainly did know I was "different."

Me and my two brothers - 1947 - check the distance I have from my brothers - body language

I grew up (from four years old to eleven years old) in a second floor apartment building in the small Pennsylvania town of Downingtown during the Eisenhower years of the Fifties.  Several of my aunts and uncles and my cousins also lived in the same apartment building.  Even though we were poor (didn't wear shoes in the summertime) I never lacked for things to do or friends.  I am the type of person who has one or two Best Friends.  I'm not really a social butterfly with tons of friends.  I specialize.

Growing up I didn't consider myself lonely.  There was my friend Chubby (who wasn't fat by the way), Eddie Rose, Lee Harris and perhaps my best friend ever (even to this day) my comic book trading buddy Larry.

When I entered high school Larry continued to be my BF until his family moved away when we were in ninth grade.  Then came my new BF, Bill B.  We were both in band.  Bill played the bass drum and I played the Sousaphone (not the tuba as most misidentify the Sousaphone).  Bill always saved a seat for me on the band bus and I him whenever our football team had an away game.  Even though we took different courses in high school (he academic and me commercial) we continued to be BF's even to today.  Both Bill and Larry are straight and married.  We're still friends but the wifey's come first and I understand that.

I joined the Army when I was 18 years old.  I immediately made a BF in basic training.  His name was Mike Tine.  I lost track of him after basic training.  We corresponded for awhile after we both left basic training but that correspondence faded away.  I still have his letters.

After basic training I went to Army Security Agency training school in Ft. Devens Massachusetts.  I almost immediately became best friends with Bob Mc.  We were BF's for the six months we were both at Ft. Devens.  When we graduated from the Army Security Agency training school we choose different allotments (assignments).  I spent the next two and a half years at Ft. George G. Meade in Maryland and Bob spent his tour of duty at Ft. Bragg, North Carolina.  Yes, he did parachute jump.  God, I'm glad I didn't go there.

Me and my old Army Buddy Bob

We continued our correspondence and friendship over the years.  In fact, a few months after I left the Army I came out as a gay man to everyone I knew and I found out that Bob was also gay!  We both had no idea each other were gay.  We continued our friendship over the years.  My friendship with Bob is the reason I now live in Delaware.  He bought a place in Delaware back in the Seventies and I used to visit him often.  I fell in love with Delaware for its mild climate, gay presence in Rehoboth and friendly taxes (they don't sock it to senior citizens like Pennsylvania does).  Unfortunately Bob has dementia and our friendship is no more.

Now to my biggest BEST FRIEND.  That would be "Bill", my lover, partner and cohort these past forty-eight years.  Bill swept me off of my feet when we first met at the Westbury Bar back in the summer of 1964 while the Supremes played on the jukebox.  Bill and I have almost nothing in common.

Bill is thirteen years old than me.  At 22 years of age to his 35 years of age, back then he was more like a father figure to me.  That worked for me because my father was not close to me.  I wasn't one of those kids that dad played ball with or even took out to the ballgame.  Are you kidding?  His usual communication with me was to mock and belittle me.  Talk about low self-esteem.  By the time I left home for the Army I could do pull-ups on a curb.

Me at 14 when self-esteem was probably the lowest 

Over the years I grew to love Bill even though we had very little in common.  Bill has always treated my like a prince.  He never restricted me with this the usual American Puritan practice of monogamy.  We both agreed that we weren't going to live out lives by someone else's insecurities.

So where was I going with this posting?  I meant to talk about loneliness but I got off the track a bit with the "friend" thing.

So here's the deal, Bill and I still don't have much in common.  He doesn't like to eat out, he doesn't like to go to the theater, in fact he doesn't like company in the house.  He just likes to be around me.  Which I will admit can be a bit smothering at times.  Our biggest problem is that he thinks I don't pay him enough attention.  He thinks I pay more attention to my friends on FaceTime and my blog.  Well, maybe I do but I'm here at the house ALL THE TIME except when I go to work.  I try to balance things out so he doesn't feel neglected.  It's not easy.

Me when I used to eat out with friends 2011

Lately I've been feeling a bit down.  I thought it was depression but now I realize my condition is probably loneliness.  I think if I had a dog or cat (which Bill doesn't want, he doesn't like cats and can't take the loss of another dog) I wouldn't be as lonely.

My one and only cat "Bobby" - 1955

I like to go out.  I like to have a circle of friends.  Not gay fuck buddies but real friends.  I'm not into sex, never really have been and especially not now at this time of my life,  just friends.  I thought when I moved to the Rehoboth Beach area, where there is a heavy concentration of older gay men and women I would find plenty of friends.  Hasn't worked out that way folks.  Maybe it's me but I don't think so.

After all my years of experience I think it is nigh well impossible to have a monogamous gay friend.  It just isn't going to happen.  Either they're too bitchy, controlling, or just horn dogs.  I hate to be so negative but it just isn't going to happen.

And of course another BIG factor is that I am an OLD GAY MAN. To use a very worn cliche, I am way past my expiration date.  Gay and seventy years old?  What am I still doing alive?  My time was up thirty years ago.  I AM THE INVISIBLE MAN.  Oh sure, I am the subject of interest by my widowed former classmates, gay or not.  But to have a friend my age?  Forget it.

So I go on with my life.  Next month I have a trip scheduled to the Holocaust Museum in Washington D.C.  I will go alone on the Old People's Bus.

I have my interests.  I like to blog, take pictures, garden, work at the hotel, walk, research genealogy, and read.  Most times this works but sometimes I do yearn to talk to someone my age, with my outlook, and my sexual orientation who isn't looking for something else besides a friendship.  I don't think that will ever happen again in my life and that is sad.  Sometimes that blanket of loneliness just falls down on me and takes everything out of me.

So there, did I make any sense?

Me at my computer today 

Dinah Washington - The Best Ever

When I was a young man of 21 years old, recently out of the Army and living in my first apartment in Coatesville, Pennsylvania I was very lonely.  I had "came out" three months previously when I lived in Pittsburgh and had lost a lot of friends.  I was estranged from my family.  I was alone.  I was lonely.

How did I pass those lonely nights and especially lonely Saturday nights in my furnished, small, ground floor apartment that rented for $65 a month back in 1963?  I got through those dark days with this lady - Dinah Washington.

I had always liked Dinah's recording of "What a Difference a Day Makes" which was appropriate to my situation since I had recently came out of the closet and faced a whole new world.

I bought one of her albums.  I played it over and over again on my record player (no CD players back in the Stone Age of my Youth).  I liked that album so much that I bought another album, then another.  Before the summer was over I had bought every album of this great lady of song.

Dinah got me through many a lonely night.  Then came a time in the summer of 1964 and I met Bill.  I put Dinah's albums away but I never forgot them.

Now that I am at the end of my run, I am feeling nostalgic about many things of my past that have given me comfort.  Dinah Washington and her music is one of those warm memories that I have that give me comfort and sustenance.  Last week I downloaded one of my very favorite Dinah Washington albums from iTunes.

Dinah is no longer with us.  I wonder what she would think of our new digital age.  I think she would be happy knowing that she is giving this one boy (which I still am in my mind) comfort.

Thank you Dinah.

Some of my many Dinah Washington albums

Saturday Night's Alright

Me giving Mom The Hug April 19 2010 

Actually it's Sunday morning now.  12:33 am to be exact.

I just finished watching "A Few Good Men" with Tom Cruise and Jack Nicholson.  I can't stand Cruise but he is a good actor.  Of course I love everything Nicholson is in, and this movie was no exception.

I rent four Netflix movies at a time.  It's been several weeks since I've seen a good movie so I decided to order some old movies that were proven to be good.  My next movie is "Dead Man Walking."  I don't like Sean Penn either but he is another damn good actor.

So this is how I spend my Saturday nights now.  In the previous century I used to go out every Saturday night.  In fact I lived for the weekends.

My turning point came one Saturday night when I was 37 years old.  I remember the age because I thought I was over the age limit to be out cruising the bars.  I was at my regular watering hole, the 247 Bar on 247 South 17th Street in Philadelphia.  The 247 was a leather and western bar.  My usual drag was jeans and a plaid shirt.  Every now and then I would don my leather vest, and in the winter my leather jacket (of which I still have both in my closet.)

That Saturday night when 2 am rolled around and the bartender flashed the lights on and off several times and yelled out "Last Call!", I thought to myself "What am I doing here?  I could be at home sleeping in my nice comfortable bed instead of drinking my standard three gin and tonics and going home smelling like an ashtray."  That was the night I decided I had enough of the bar scene.

With a few exceptions since that time, I haven't been to a gay bar.  I haven't missed it.  And I think it's safe to say they haven't missed me either.

So what do I do Saturday nights now?  Well, for the longest time I used to work at the hotel (the Hampton Inn in Lionville, PA.)  That was my social life.  I loved it.  I got to meet a lot of people (and some nice looking guys too who HAD  to come up to me to get checked in while I checked them out) plus I had the adventure of working in a hotel with friends which was always fun.

Me at the Hampton Inn, Lionville, PA - fun times (worked there four years) 1999

These days I only work part-time at a hotel.  Wednesday and Thursday nights.  I worked the day shift today due to an illness of one of my co-workers.  The hotel where I work now is much smaller than the Hampton Inn where I worked and often was the only front desk clerk.  The Hampton Inn had 120 rooms.  Where I work now they have 22 rooms and 2 suites.  Much, much smaller.  But guess what?  I still get to meet a lot of interesting people.  And yes, I still meet the hunky guys.  Today I checked in a tall, dark and handsome man of about 35 years of age who made me wobble at the knees.  I had a hard time (no pun intended) tearing my eyes away from him to the computer to check him in.  Even the sight of his beautiful blond wife and two adorable little tykes did not diminish his hunk appeal in my eyes  No siree.

So you ask what's the picture of me and my Mom doing at the top of this posting?  I've been thinking about her a lot these past few days.  The end could be in a few weeks for six months.  I don't know.  This is what makes it so difficult.  But I want to remember the good times with Mom.  I think this was the last picture I have of the two of us where she is smiling.  She isn't doing much (if any) smiling these days.

Giving her a hug like this is an inside family joke.  My Mom was never a hugger.  She grew up without a Mom (her Mom died before she was two years old) and her father was distant.  She never got a hug growing up.  My brothers and I have been trying to make up for all the hugs she missed over the years.  She still doesn't know how to hug.  I don't ever remember her hugging any of us.  But we're hugging her, even if it is like hugging a tree trunk.

So this is what is important in my life these days.  Friends, family, co-workers, neighbors and the lifestyle to which I always aspired to and living near the ocean.  I don't the bars at all.  Everything in its time and place.  I'm at the right place for this time of my life now.  And I am happy.

Me and my gin and tonic on some Philadelphia gay bar dance floor back in the 70's - fun times

Family

The "Perfect" Leave it to Beaver Family of the Fifties

See this family?  It isn't real.  This is the cast of a television show of the Fifties called "Leave it to Beaver." This was pictured as the typical American family.  It is not.

Growing up I watched this show where the dad always arrived at the dinner table (which was always in the dining room) dressed in a suit of a sport coat.  Our family ate at in our kitchen.  We didn't have a dining room in our roach infested, second floor apartment at 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown, PA.

Our family, my brother Isaac, Mom and me on an outing at the park in the Forties

Our dad (we called him "Pop") wore his dirty T-shirt to the dinner table.  Same with me and my two brothers.  T-shirts.  Sometimes in the summer when it was too hot (no air conditioning in those days - the Fifties) we usually were shirtless.

Barbara Billingsley, the actress who played the mother on this fictional TV series was always dressed in a crinoline puffed up shirt dress.  She always wore pearls.  My Mom wearing pearls?  No way, she was too busy making biscuits to feed her always hungry brood of menfolk.

Watching this show I thought "Someday....someday.....I'll have a family like that."  Well, as everyone of you know (without exception), there is NO FAMILY LIKE THIS ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH.

Bob - my First Love on his wedding day (not to me)

Recently I posted a couple of blogs about my first lover.  Some of his family members read my blog and contacted me.  They very kindly filled me in on information about my first love's life after we parted company in early 1964.  Bob, my first love's name, was a married man.  I knew that when I was seeing him.  I assumed he had a happy home life and I was a pleasant diversion for him.  He was my first lover.  We saw each other for a few months until I came to the decision that a long term relationship was not in our future.  I ended our relationship and I assumed he went on to a happy life.

When I watched "Leave it to Beaver" in the Fifties I assumed that was a real family and most real families had that same kind of life.  I knew that I didn't have that kind of life at home but I thought our family was the anomaly.  Little did I know.  Our family was typical.  We were dysfunctional.  Not big time dysfunctional but we had issues.

Now that I am a mature adult (in most ways anyway, in some areas I am still woefully naive), I have discovered that ALL FAMILIES ARE DYSFUNCTIONAL.  Not the least of which was my former lover's family.

I have since found out that he had two illegitimate children from a women he met when he lived in Coos Bay, Oregon.  I talked to his look alike daughter today.  She never met her father which is a real shame because he was a charming and vibrant man.  It doesn't seem right that I had more time with her father than she did.

When I was seeing Bob, he was married (legitimately) with three small children.  He had two sons and a daughter.  One of his sons read my blog posting and contacted me and told me information about his father's life after we parted ways.  It turns out that Bob got divorced and married again with three more children.  All the while he kept his homosexuality hidden.

The woman he was married to when when he was seeing me, wrote a book about her life and her "spiritual journey."  She doesn't paint a favorable picture of Bob.  In fact, she portrays Bob as a devil.  I have no other way to describe her portrayal and remain respectful of her and what she went through at that time.  I truly sympathize with her because she was deceived in her marriage.

When I got out of high school I had a girl friend who I liked very much.  But even at that young age (17), I knew a marriage would never work.  In spite of the fact that I was sexually inexperienced in both the gay sense and straight, I knew that sooner or later my homosexuality would destroy our marriage.  I could not to that to her or myself.

 I understand why Bob got married.  I remember very clearly the societal pressure to conform and get married.  I seriously even considered it because I wanted that "Leave it to Beaver" family.  But in my heart of hearts I knew it could never be for me.  I just could not do it.  Which was really weird because I didn't know how to be gay either.  Not only was I dysfunctional as a straight person, I was a dysfunctional gay.  I didn't know the first thing about sex.

How ironic then that the first person to introduce me to gay sex was a married man who stayed in the closet his whole life.  A man who had eight children, two out of wedlock.  A married man who disapproved of his adult daughter sleeping in the same bed in his house with her boyfriend of eight years in spite of the fact that the daughter and boyfriend had been living in their own house for years.

As I wrote in a previous blog posting, Bob was the catalyst that caused me to out myself as a gay man in 1963.  This was way before such an action was fashionable as it is now.  In fact, back when I came out I was illegal. I was breaking the law by declaring my homosexuality  There was no "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" back in those days.  If you declared your homosexuality, you were writing your death sentence, sometimes literally.  I certainly doomed any career chances I had in the world which proved to be true.

But I have no regrets.  I don't even have regrets that I am not living the "Leave it to Beaver" family.  In fact, I don't know anybody who is.  Do you?

A meal with friends - definitely not "Leave it to Beaver" style

Loneliness

Perhaps the most pervasive fear that human beings have is loneliness. The most severe punishment in prison is to put a prisoner in solitary confinement. Yet there are those in life who are not in prison who live in circumstances that are just about as lonely as solitary confinement.




Lately I’ve been giving this more thought because a couple of my friends have died. My circle of friends is shrinking. My Mother and a good friend are still alive but they are sinking into the fog of dementia. Their bodies may still be here but their minds are gone. I can no longer talk to them. They are no longer the friends I had. Each day they drift farther and farther away from me.



I do not fear death but I do fear loneliness. I had expressed in an earlier blog posting that perhaps I missed having children. However, upon reflection I realize that I probably wasn’t temperamentally suited to having children. Maybe that was God’s plan for me because He knows what I’m like. I am really way too self involved with myself.



Every Saturday night I watch a Netflix rented movie in the comfort of my bedroom (my personal movie theater.) Last night I watched “Asylum.” It is about a psychiatrist's wife (Natasha Richardson) encounters an inmate (Marton Csokas) at a maximum-security asylum and finds herself curiously drawn to him. This movie was about loneliness. The psychiatrist’s wife is lonely. Even though she is married and has a young son, she was lonely. Almost everyone in the movie, including the character Ian McClellen played, was desperately lonely. This movie was well acted but very sad. This is a movie that lingers in your head long after you’ve seen it.

Earlier this week I checked in an elderly couple at the hotel. The lady told me that she had married her high school sweetheart…..many years after they were married to someone else. She told me the story of how they dated in high school but became separated during World War II. Both of them married other people and had families. Both of them eventually lost their spouses. Through a class reunion they met up again fourteen years ago and began dating again. They were in the hotel celebrating their thirteenth wedding anniversary. This is a wonderful story. This couple won’t have to spend their autumn years alone. They conquered their lonely problem although I did not they requested the room with two queen beds. Obviously their relationship was more about other issues than sex.



I’ve been very fortunate in my life. I met my Prince Charming when I was twenty two years old. I wasn’t looking for a Prince Charming or anyone to settle down with. I came out late (at 21 years old, still a virgin) and was ready to sow plenty of wild oats. Prince Charming (aka “Bill”) said he understood that I was a young guy and “had to get it out of my system.” Up to I was thirty seven years old I had a pretty active social life. However, on one Saturday night standing in a bar in Philadelphia at closing time when they flicked the lights on and off, indicating Last Call, I decided that I had had enough of the social life. The time had come for me to settle down. The charm of Nightlife in the Big City had faded (thank goodness.)

The years since have been one of mostly tranquil domesticity. Of course there have been some “speed bumps” in those forty six years together but we’re still together.



In our forty six years we have raised five Pomeranian dogs, lived at five different homes in three different states, and now are settling in for the Final Act of our life. The odds are that I will be the one left alone (Bill is 81 years old.)

As I see my friends die and drop out around me it becomes more apparent to me everyday I may be faced with living my remaining years alone. I’m way past my bar hopping days when I was out to meet that certain someone to spend the rest of my life with. That just isn’t going to happen. For one thing I’m just too old. I would probably fall asleep on my feet as the big hand on the clock neared midnight. I’ve had my experiences with guys I met in the bar (with sometimes near disastrous results) and I have no intention of going down that road again. And I’m certainly not going to be a Sugar Daddy to anyone. I’m not that rich and if I was, that isn’t my style. Been there done that. It doesn’t work, believe me. All one is asking for there are lies, betrayal and heartache. As I said, Been There, Done That.



I wonder what some of my single friends handle their loneliness or even if they consider themselves lonely. They’ve been single their whole lives and seem to be doing well. Perhaps I will go back into that mode. For a short time before I met Bill, I lived by myself. From the time I got out of the Army in January of 1963 to July of 1964 I lived alone. For the most of the time I was alright but there were times that loneliness caught up with me. At times I felt like I was going crazy. I would be in my one room efficiency apartment in Coatesville, PA and think “Is this all there is?” I knew there had to be more to life. Then I met Bill and my life took on a real purpose. Our life together has been one of sharing, supporting, loving and living life as two compatible like minded souls. I’ve always considered myself one of the Lucky Few to have met someone like Bill. Some people go through their whole life and never meet that special person. I’m not one of those people because I did meet my special person.



I’ve often joked with Bill that I’ll “check out” before he does. Then I wouldn’t have to face the problem of loneliness. But then one never knows what surprises life has in store for me. I just hope I don’t end up like those characters in that movie last night.