A Profound Sadness

When I heard Joan Rivers died yesterday a profound sadness swept over me.  

I rarely have this reaction when someone I know well has died.  The last time I had such an overwhelming sadness was when my Mother died on September 16, 2010.  Of course that was a different kind of sadness.

I never had the good fortune to personally meet Joan Rivers although our paths crossed very close several times during our lifetimes.  When I worked at the Hampton Inn in Lionville, Pennsylvania, I would often see Joan's long black stretch limousine whisking her down Route 100 to QVC in West Chester, Pennsylvania where Joan hawked her costume jewelry line for many years.  

A few years ago Joan made a personal appearance in the Rehoboth Beach gay community. I could have put aside my personal distaste for the cliquish Rehoboth Beach gay community and attended one of her shows, front seats at $100 a pop.  But I didn't.  

Even though I never met Joan I had the feeling that she was "jus
folks."  There was nothing phony about Joan, aside from her way overdone plastic surgery (oh how I wish she would have stayed the way she was and aged gracefully).

I remember first seeing her on the old "Ed Sullivan Show" on TV.  I liked her irreverent brand of humor right off the bat.  

Over the years I've seen her as guest host on the "Johnny Carson Show" (I thought she was fabulous, always a new gown every show).  

I'm trying to put my finger on exactly what it was that I liked about Joan's attitude and comedy and I think I've figured it out.  She said what I was thinking.  She was the boy who cried "The king has no clothes!" when all other would look at the naked king and "ooh" and "ah" over his finery, thus perpetuating much of the phoniness that is modern day life.  Joan cut through all that BS and said exactly what she thought, no matter who dainty toes she stepped on.  Joan always made me laugh. 

I liked Joan.  With her passing another part of my life has gone.  

Little by little, increment by increment, I am slowly dying.  

And folks, you just know that if there is a Heaven, she's making a lot of people laugh right now.  

Thank you Joan for providing so much happiness to so many during your life.  Rest in peace dear lady.

Broken Dish

My favorite dish, gone

A sad day here at Casa Tipton-Kelly.  I broke my favorite dish.

It was an accident.  I was reaching for a dish behind my favorite dish and damn, that dish fell on my favorite dish that I had taken out of the cabinet for my evening meal.  

I had my favorite dish, a one of a kind, can't replace, clear blue small dish, on my granite counter top, soon to hold three scoops of my favorite homemade potato salad.  I reach in my kitchen cabinet, which is FULL OF TOO MANY DISHES, and pull out another small clear glass dish to place a hamburger bun.  CRASH!  Right on my favorite dish.

Now folks, you know me.  I do have a tendency to hoard.  I prefer to think of myself as not throwing anything out.  I have dishes up the ring yang.  I look for more dishes when I make my thrift shop forays, not like I need more dishes.  

The irony here folks, is that this blue dish was my FAVORITE DISH.  It is the dish I use twice a day.  You know how  you have a favorite tie even though you have hundreds to choose from (or bow ties, whatever your persuasion)?  This blue dish was my favorite.  

Bill and I don't have sit down meals.  He eats at different times than I do.  He has his favorite bowl (with several seismic cracks in it by the way) and I have my favorite dish.  

A scene you'll never see at Casa Tipton-Kelly

Yes folks, it's a sad day in Mudville today.  Casey struck out.  That potato salad just didn't taste the same with that flowery Mexican plate I put it on.  

I'll look for another blue dish but I've been looking for years for a backup blue dish.  I'm like that cake in MacArthur Park, it "got rained on and I'll never have that recipe again". 

Tell me about it.

Smile

Ron in Full Smile

I've been told I have a good smile.  My Mother had a great smile.  My father, not so much.  Some people look odd when they smile.  Some look great. Some don't.

My brother Isaac and I goofing it up for the camera

I am a pretty serious person and a lot of time I am deep in though thus the serious face.  Also, many of my photos were taken by Bill or other people who are/were intimidated by me handing them my camera to take a picture of me.  I rarely get pictures that others take of me.  In fact, not too many people take pictures of me with their cameras. If they do I have to ask them.  

Serious at Rehoboth Beach

When I'm serious, I have a Serious Face. Not very inviting I'm told.  Most of the time I hung out at the bars I was by myself.  Frequently a stranger would come up to me and say "You should smile more.  You look great when you smile!"  This unsolicited comment from a stranger.  They probably saw a friend talking to me.

Me with brother John (not smiling)

Me with brother John (smiling)

My default personality is one that is eager to please so I almost always smile with my interactions with friends and strangers.  In fact that's why I like my hotel front desk job, I have the opportunity to meet a lot of people and make them feel comfortable during their stay in our hotel.  Occasionally I run into a stinker and my smile fades.  And then it's the Serious Ron again.

Two great smiles!  Ron and Mark

Two more great smiles!  Anne Marie (of Philly) and me

Me and Joyce (from my bank job in Philly in 1986)

I always smile when I hold a cat - 1953

Two tired critters - 2005

My best class picture ever - 5th grade 1953

You Really Can't Go Home Again

Bill and I visited our former home in Pennsylvania today. We just got back home here in Delaware a few minutes ago. All I can say is that we're still in shock after discovering the advanced state of disrepair of our former home and property.




The grounds were totally unkempt. I don't believe the hedges were ever trimmed since the say we sold the property on November 17, 2006. Fallen branches and debris litter the lawn at every turn.



The fish ponds are still there but are full of decaying leaves. Much to my surprise I saw two goldfish. God knows how they survived the past almost three years. I feel so guilty leaving them to this fate.



The inside of the house is just as bad. The beautiful solid walnut wood floors that were Varathaned to a high gloss, are chipped and scratched big time. I suspect the scratches are mostly from dog toenails since the owners have a dog. The scratches are extra high near the windows where the dog obviously got excited when someone approached the house.



Most of the walls are half stripped of wall paper.



The rusty wheel barrow I left leaning against the tree because I didn't have room for it in my car is still leaning in the same spot as are many other items I did not remove.



The house is being sold "as is." It is advertised as "needing a little TLC." I would say.



Bill and I were really looking forward to seeing what the new owners did with the house. Now we know. They didn't do much except replace a shower with a bathtub for their daughters' bedroom and make a home office in the space above the garage.



On the way up to Pennsylvania this morning Bill and I were discussing open casket funerals. Bill doesn't like them. They don't bother me. I told Bill the first time I saw a dead body in an open casket was when I was 18 years old and the deceased person was my Uncle John Tipton who died in an accident (he burned to death.) Almost everyone remarked "how well he looked." I looked at him and I didn't see my Uncle John. I saw a shell that he inhabited while he was on this earth. The man I knew was gone. He had departed from this shell (body) he occupied during his time on earth. I had that same feeling today when I saw our old home. It isn't our home anymore. It is a shell. That house and property does not posses the life it did when we were there with our three dogs. As a good friend of mine said about his home before he was about to move "This house used to sing, it doesn't sing now." That's the way I feel now. Our former home doesn't sing anymore. We have a new home here in Delaware and it sings.

Cloudy Day

The clouds rolled in today. Gray and dreary. Temperature falling. Wind picking up. I missed my Sunday night outing at the Purple Parrot with friends. A chill in the air. The realization that I wasn't wanted in the group. Painful but probably true. Again, that incurable naivete of mine. The day is ending. Rain is beginning to tap on my window. Life goes on. The sun will shine again.