Bill and I always take our shoes off before we enter our house. We ask guests who enter our house to take their shoes off. The reason we do this is because the bottom of people's shoes are dirty and we don't want that filth in the house. Bill introduced me to this practice when I first moved in with him fifty-one years ago. Bill picked up this habit from is time spent in Japan during is Air Force service years during the early Fifties. By the way, Bill saw General Douglas McArthur and Emperor Hirohito during his stay but I digress. Over the years most of our guests (we actually don't have that many) have complied. The only problem has been with workmen entering our house. Either they are too lazy or too disrespectful to honor our request. Some workmen have complied by wearing booties. Most have not. Mark this day because it is the last day a workman enters our house wearing shoes without booties. The reason I say this is because I got weak and let a workman wear booties. Two days ago we had a new air conditioning and heater unit installed in our house, which is mostly wall to wall carpeted. When I encountered one workman entering our house to install the new thermostat I asked "Where are your booties?" He looked at me with a perturbed surprise as said "Booties? Booties? My shoes are clean." And then he proceeded to skip up my carpeted stairs to install the new thermostat. Folks, I'm ashamed to admit I let it pass. Up and down the stairs he went several times while I burned. All day yesterday I was bothered. The irony here is that when that this company advertises that all their workers wear booties when in customers' homes. I was bothered all day yesterday until I called the salesman and told him of my concerns. He acted concerned. He may be or not but one thing I have decided. NO MORE. You know folks, at this time of my life, THE END, I'm just tired of letting things pass that bother me. The next time I someone enters my house and is either too lazy or too disrespectful of me to take their shoes off or put on booties over their shoes, they do not enter my house. I don't like confrontation and unpleasant situations but I also don't like being disrespected, especially in my home, my sanctuary that both Bill and I work so hard to keep clean. Have you ever gotten gas for your car? The next time take a look at the ground beneath your feet. Look at the spit, spilled gasoline, and cigarette butts. All those germs and filth goes into your house. I think even more that bothers me is the disrespect. I'm tired of the disrespect and will put an end to this particular form of disrespect. Of course I will be continued to be disrespected in other aspects of my life but at my home, I can control. And I will.
Now there is a term that I never thought would apply to me, "newlywed." Sort of brings images of a beautiful, young blonde bride and likewise young, buff man with smiles from ear to ear. Well folks, these newlyweds are far from young (that would be us) but we have the same smiles ear to ear.
Our wedding party - me, Bill, Judy and Jack Dawson - July 3rd, 2013
So are you all wondering how we spent our Honeymoon Night. I bet you would. Well folks, sorry to disappoint you but we spent it much like my mom and dad did when they ran off an eloped and got married in Elkton, Maryland in 1940. Mom was 16 years old and a senior in high school and Pop was 19 years old and working at Lukenweld as a welder. She needed her father's permission to get married and of course she knew she would never get it (her Mother died when she wasn't quite two years old) so they "ran off." After they got married she returned home like nothing happened and when back to school the following Monday.
Dear Friend Judy pinning the boutonniere (not a corsage) on me
Yesterday, after Bill and I got married we took our two witnesses, Jack and Judy, out to lunch at the Bay Leaf Restaurant in Milton. We had a delightful lunch with was topped with chocolate covered strawberries, compliments of the house congratulating us on our wedding. What a nice surprise (and delicious strawberries)!
Dear Friend Jack contemplating scarfing down some of those chocolate covered strawberries that the Bay Leaf Restaurant sent to us
After lunch, and after driving Jack and Judy back to their houseful of family visiting for the Fourth of July holiday, Bill and I returned home. It was just the same as we left it but oh my, were ever feeling jubilant. Did I just use my second French word in this blog posting? What a wonderful feeling! We feel.....normal. We feel GOOD. Since I already had my lunch I had time to post my Flip video to You Tube. I was scheduled for to work yesterday but I did ask permission to come in a little later than the normal 3 pm start of my shift. I didn't want to rush on this hot, humid and happy day. As it was I did manage to arrive at work only a half an hour from my normal time. So my "honeymoon night" was spent at the hotel, manning the front desk, albeit as a newlywed. Again, the good feeling continue to permeate. I just can not wipe the smile off of my face. If there was any fly in the ointment of my wedding nuptials yesterday was the fact that I did not receive one congratulatory message from Camp Rehoboth, the local gay fund raising organization that, supposedly promotes "inclusiveness." The "inclusiveness" apparently is only for members of their tight little clique but I'm not going to go any further down that negative path today. Suffice it to say I was very disappointed that not ONE note of congratulations or even a "LIKE" was posted to my Facebook account. When I got home from work though I had a very pleasant surprise. There was a card from my local state representative Steve Smyk with a note on the back that said: "May your special day today be Happy & Blessed Ron. Sorry I missed you both." Representative Smyk voted against the Marriage Equality bill in Delaware. I wrote to him several times and he didn't respond to my personal, hand written letters which I took issue with by writing to our local newspaper The Cape Gazette. That representative Smyk would take the time to pay me a personal visit to wish me well on our special day has changed my opinion of him. While we may still disagree politically we can continue to have respect for one another and that is exactly what Representative Smyk did yesterday. And isn't this what marriage equality is all about? Respect?
I wrote Representative Smyk a handwritten letter this morning which I will mail tomorrow morning. I hope to meet with him some day in person to discuss our differences but in the meantime finding his note when I returned home last night was the perfect ending to a perfect day.
One aspect in my previous post on respect that I didn't go into deeply enough was how, as a gay man, respect is especially important to me. We need to drill down on this.
Me (far right) with my father and two younger brothers - I always wanted him to like me - obviously he never did even at this young age even though I yearned for his attention - 1948 - his favorite was my younger brother John to the far left - my middle brother Isaac also lacked attention from our father - the body language says it all
Growing up I was constantly belittled by my father. As an adult I came to realize that he really didn't want children. My brothers and I were a hinderance to him. Since I was the oldest, I received the brunt of his disdain.
Me (on left) during my self-hating years when I was nothing - a too tall, skinny kid with a too big nose and a cauliflower ear which my father never let me forget
Now of course I realize that many other people like me had similar childhoods, some worse. But I'm talking about myself here and why I am the way I am. When you're growing up and all you hear is that you're "stupid", "can't do anything", have a big nose ("beak" was his favorite name for me) and a cauliflower ear; one comes to believe that. It is interesting to look at my grade school report cards now and see that I did well in all areas except self confidence. I almost always received a "U" for lack of self confidence. Not until I left home at 18 years of age and joined the Army did I come to slowly realize that I wasn't quite the "stupid, can't do anything, big nosed misfit with a cauliflower ear." Oh sure, when I was in Army Basic Training, that wasn't a picnic either. My name then was "stupid, fucking trainee" but I wasn't the only one. Everyone was a "stupid, fucking trainee." This was different, I had company.
Stonewall Inn - Greenwich Village - 1969
Gradually I began to gain self-confidence when I realized that I wasn't as bad as I was led to believe the first 18 years of my life. In fact, in some areas I was actually GOOD.
The "brave" policemen arresting on of those "criminals" a gay guy who was at the Stonewall Bar
Thinking back to those days 53 years ago in January of 1960, I remember my biggest fear was someone making fun of my nose. Much to my surprise, no one did. Really, I was very surprised. Hey, maybe I wasn't ugly.
"How about some respect here cops?"
Of course my big shame in those days was knowing that I was a homosexual (the old timey term back in the pre-Stonewall days for gays). I definitely felt inferior because of that unalterable fact. I was ashamed and fearful that anyone would find out. If they did then no one would respect me. I would be an outcast, inferior, garbage.
"What is the matter with those fags?"
As time went on during my enlistment in the Army and I was promoted over many of my fellow soldiers, even to assistant platoon sergeant and my own room, and even soldier of the month; I lost most of my inferiority complex that had been drummed into me.
Specialist Ronald W. Tipton
I always envied my peers who grew up in a household where they were valued, complimented and told "we're going to send you to college." No, I was always told that I wasn't smart enough, good enough and for sure they wouldn't send me to college so I had better prepare myself for another line of work. That's why I took the commercial course in high school instead of the academic course which all of my friends selected. Not only was I good enough for the academic course, because I was a homosexual I wasn't good enough to even associate with my heterosexual "normal" classmates. A double whammy. Now let me stop here and put a qualifier lest anyone think I'm wallowering in self-pity. Bill also had a rough childhood. His father died in a drunk driving accident when he was only one year old. He was raised by a physically abusive step-father. My Mother's mother died in childbirth when my Mother wasn't quite two years old. She neglected and physically abused during her childhood. Many of us didn't get a good start in life but overcame a lot but still never quite get rid of the baggage that has residual effects.
1963 - The year I came out to the world and regained my self-respect
After staying in the closet for the first 21 years of my life I decided to come out when I was caught in bed with a married man (father of three small children) by my Mother. I had had enough. Accept me as I am or don't accept me at all. I've written about that drama in previous blog posts but that was the turning point in my life. In 1963, six full years before Stonewall, I decided to stop apologizing for who I was and live my life as I am, warts and all. Either you like me or you don't, that's your choice. From that day on I refused to let anybody discount me as a human being whether it was because of my homosexuality or because someone just didn't like me because I refused to be controlled by them.
I remember where I was when I first heard news of the Stonewall Riot. I was at the Westbury Bar at 15th and Spruce Streets in Philadelphia, PA. When all of us fags in the bar heard this story we of course were angry. At the Westbury Bar we also went through our share of raids, especially around election time when the local politicos wanted to score easy points with the local homophobe voters. "Hey, let's raid the fag bar. That's easy pickins!" Every year like clockwork the police would come in, the lights would flash on and ID's would be checked. Anyone who was under 21 years old was arrested and led out into the waiting paddy wagon outside along with the bartender who served him the drink. This was all done very matter of fact, like the Nazi Germans leading the Urkrainian Jews to the ditches to be shot. All expected and very routine. The only difference was that the underage bar patron and bar tender were usually released the next day after spending the night in "the tank." No one was shot, as long as you did what you were told. How refreshing it was then to learn that some New York queens decided they had enough and threw some bottles at the police when they tried to put them into the paddy wagons. I know this sounds like an oxymoron, but I've known drag queens who have more balls than a dozen cops put together. They just had enough that night. Good for them and good for all the homos like me who also had enough. You see folks, they had too much self-respect for themselves to put up with any more of this bullshit. So in my life I not only had to deal with an upbringing which was not positive but instead beat me down, I also had to deal with society treating me as an inferior. I had two choices - to cower and accept other's verdict on me or to take control of my own life.
Me (center bottom row) with friends who respected me - 1962
As I said before, those people who were fortunate enough to grow up in loving and encouraging households, and that includes my gay brothers and sisters - good for you. But there are many of us who weren't that fortunate, straight and gay. So my friends, if I seem a little touchy (and I am) about the way I am treated by friends, relatives and co-workers, this is where I am coming from. I wish I could get rid of the childhood baggage completely but I have never been able to accomplish that. I wish that I could breeze through life, supremely confident in my appearance and abilities but I cannot because I always have that little seed of doubt. As I said before, many others have had my experience growing up, many worse. Different people take different paths to deal with their "baggage." Some resort to drugs or alcohol. I don't. Some resort to striking out at others to compensate. No folks, I go through life, even with all my faults (and I have plenty I know), with a happy attitude which is my nature. But once I am done wrong or treated badly, that person doesn't get a second chance. Whether it be a public figure or an individual person. I may forgive the bad behavior but I don't forget. That is not in my nature.
Me today with friend (straight) who respects me even though he knows I'm gay
I was brought down the first 18 years of my life and have been on too many occasions since but at this time of my life I have zero tolerance to accept that behavior from anyone.
"Lady Marmalade" Venture Inn, Philadelphia, PA 1980
Just like those drag queens at Stonewall forty-four years ago who had enough and weren't going to step into that police paddy wagon just because they were gay, I don't accept being discounted. I had enough. I don't accept being taken for granted. I had enough. I am a unique individual just like every one of you who is reading this blog. Some of you may like me and some of you do not like me. Those of you who like me, let's be friends. Those who don't, then go away and don't bother trying to change me. I am what I am and at this time of my life there is not much more fine tuning to be done. What you see (and hear and read) is pretty much what you get with me. If I criticize one of your favorite celebs like Beyonce who lip-synchs songs (and thus is lying to her fans), get over it. It's my opinion. If I write about myself in my blog (duh) and you think I write too much about myself...well this is my blog. It's about me. Deal with it. If I bore you, go away. If I interest you, stick around because I think I lead a pretty interesting life. So there is my spiel this morning folks from this damaged, imperfect, human being called "Ron." I like myself and I hope you do too.
Respect, one of the most important words in any language. If you really think about it, isn't respect at the root cause of many of the world's problems? Sure, famine and disease are also serious problems but most world conflicts have the lack of respect at their root cause. Why are so many of us sports fans? The Super Bowl is coming up. Why do we want our team to win? Because if our teams wins then we get
R - E - S - P - E - C - T
We don't get money, we don't get a Super Bowl ring, but we sure do get respect. Now take respect on the personal level. I know of no person who doesn't want respect from their family, friends, co-workers or even strangers they pass by in the street. We live our lives aspiring to a career for self fulfillment. Some strive to make a lot of money to gain respect. Some are born with talent and embark on careers to gain respect. Even criminals strive for respect. That is the cause of all the gang related turf wars that one often hears about in the inner cities. At this time of my life I often think back on my past years and contemplate on why I made the decisions I have made. Sure, I wanted independence. I wanted to make enough money to have a comfortable life. I wanted to meet somebody who I would love and who would love me in return to complete my goal of the pursuit of happiness. But I also was had the goal of respect in my sights. I could have chosen a career that would have made me a lot of money but I would not have respected myself nor have the respect of my peers. One of the reasons I joined the Army at out of high school was that I thought I had the obligation to serve my country. I know that sounds corny now but that is the way I felt. I never entertained the option of avoiding serving my country. However, I did not want to be in a combat unit. I didn't want to shoot anybody or have anybody shoot at me so I joined, believing (rightly as it turned out) that I would have some say in what I would do during my three years of service to my country. When I got out of the Army, this son of a semi-illiterate hillbilly, the first in my family to graduate from high school, wanted a different career than my father. I wanted a white collar job, specifically in bank. I didn't go to college because I was told by my Mother when I entered ninth grade in high school they couldn't afford to send me to college. So I knew at 14 years old that I would have to take a different route to get a "respectable" job. After I got out of the Army, and after a few non-banking job, I finally got my much coveted job at a bank. I worked in center city Philadelphia for thirty years. I worked another seven years at banks outside of Philadelphia. I now work part-time at a hotel front desk job. All "respectable" jobs. Not that my father's jobs weren't respectable but I had a dream for myself and I went for it and succeeded. My personal life has also been guided by respect. One reason I've been with Bill for forty-eight years is that he respects me as I do him. Of course I love him too but more important, he respects me. Love is one thing, respect is something else altogether. My personality is that I respect everybody right out of the box. That is until they show they don't respect me then I cannot respect them. That's just my nature for which I make no apologies. Disrespect come in many forms from the former GOP presidential candidate Mitt Romney blatantly lying to the American public to a so called "friend" who really doesn't like you but is only a friend to take advantage of you. Unfortunately I have the type of personality which seems to invite this type of person to take advantage of me. Has it happened to me? Yes, more times that I care to admit. My turning point came many years ago (1980 to be specific). That year which was almost to the day that John Lennon was shot (which I will always remember "where I was"), someone who I cared for a great deal almost destroyed me. Even though I came close to the bottom, I was able to pull myself up and vow never to let that happen to me again. And I haven't. In the years since I have worked for employers who have tried to take advantage of me because of my natural good nature. I can still see the surprise on their faces when I ended those relationships on my own terms. I did this because of my own self-respect. I've also done the same thing on a personal level. Some people who I thought were friends turned out not to have my best interest at heart but only their own interests and sought to use me as their vehicle to gain their ends. They too were surprised when I ended those relationships. I remember something the comedian Phyllis Diller said many years ago when she ending her relationships with friends who were negative and bringing her down. She said "They'll take you down with them." And they will, I know. These days I am very selective who I have for friends. I really don't care what anyone else thinks about me, it doesn't make a difference. I know who my friends are, I know who respects me and I respect them. I also know who respects me on a national level. President Obama respects me. The current version of the Republican Party does not. Entertainers, someone like Bradley Cooper respects me because he is totally honest. Someone like Beyonce (who I used to like) does not because she lied to her public and then has the arrogance to come back and give lame excuses for her lies. I thoroughly enjoy blogging. I have made many friends through blogging who I believe respect me and I respect them. Of course there are a few "Anonymous" folks out there who occasionally leave negative comments on my blog because they don't think I have the right to express my opinion. Obviously they don't respect me and only seem to have as their goal to bring me down to their level of negativity. I refuse to go there. I thank those friends of mine both personal and here on this blog who have enriched my life with their thoughtful, kind and respectful comments. I appreciate you, I respect you and I thank you.
