Sunday Night At The Purple Parrot

If this is Sunday it must be the Purple Parrot. Last summer a friend of mine and I decided to meet for dinner at the Purple Parrot in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. The Purple Parrot is a Key West styled restaurant in the heart of Rehoboth Beach. The clientele is a mixture of local gay residents and adventuresome tourists looking to soak up a little local flavor. My friend and I decided to meet because I like to eat out at informal restaurants and he was overcoming a recent breakup of a long term relationship. My partner doesn’t like to go out to restaurants and my friend didn’t like to eat alone. It was a perfect match up. Since then we have developed something of a tradition of meeting every Sunday night with a couple of other friends. We met through tourist jammed Rehoboth Avenue in the summer, and the cold rainy days of winter when the only patrons of the restaurant were we locals. Now we’re approaching another summer season and the onslaught of a new wave of summer tourists. We will continue to meet, indulge in the Sunday night prime rib special, have a drink or two and enjoy each other’s camaraderie. Life is good.

Why I Retired To Delaware

The picture to the right is one of the reasons I retired to Delaware, to be near the water. All my life I’ve wanted to work and/or live near the water. As I approached my retirement age, I realized this was one goal I had not achieved. For many years I visited Provincetown, Massachusetts. I fell in love with Cape Cod. However, as much as the Cape was a perfect fit for me, I had to face reality. In Massachusetts the winters are long and cold and the taxes are too high. Delaware’s taxes are low and the winters are milder, with virtually no snow accumulation. Another good reason for moving to Delaware is that it is only 2 ½ hour drive to my Mother’s home in Pennsylvania. The trip to her home from Massachusetts would be a nightmarish sequence of plane trips, taking at least a whole day. The choice was easy. Delaware was my retirement destination. For over 30 years I had been visiting a friend in Sussex County, Delaware. I was well aware of the lay of the land. Another major factor for me was that the Rehoboth Beach area and many of its surrounding communities were gay friendly. Many older gay men and women found a community in Delaware that they could not find in their own hometowns. While the state of Delaware still does not offer domestic partner benefits, many gay retirees have found Sussex County, Delaware (also known as “Slower Lower”) a place where they felt comfortable leading normal lives shopping at Super Fresh or Loews. Same sex couples could go to restaurants and not invite quizzical and sometimes disapproving stares from other diners. In Sussex County Delaware, same sex couples can live in neighborhoods just like any other family. No longer are we restricted to inner big city neighborhoods. Gone are the days when a same sex couple would invoke suspicion and, sometimes, outright hostility by living in a family neighborhood. When I lived in Pennsylvania, for many years I had a neighbor who expressed their homophobic hostility to me and my partner almost daily. They made our lives tense and unhappy. That is all in the past now. I live in a development just two miles from Henlopen Bay. While I don’t live on the water, I do work on the water. To sum up the reasons I retired to Delaware, I work and live near the water, pay low taxes, and live in a friendly neighborhood. I have a great job. I work with wonderful people and love doing what I’m doing, working the front desk at a small bed and breakfast inn on the canal in Lewes, Delaware. That is just about as much as one could ask for. Oh, I wouldn’t mind winning the Powerball lottery this weekend.

Coming Up Roses

Dare I say it, but life is finally taking a turn for the better for this Delaware retiree. The bill for my emergency room visit of January 3rd is finally settled. I have my new partial denture after enduring a tooth extraction and a couple of months of no teeth on the right side of my mouth. The unexpected bills have finally stopped popping up. And, best of all, I do believe the cold weather is behind us. Bill and I were out this weekend building new raised flower beds while the swallows performed their aerial acrobatics over our lawn insect hunting. After years of procrastination I finally have my genealogy website and blogs up and running. Through the kind and generous help of a fellow blogger, I’ve added music to both. After the long winter hibernation, I’m ready for the long, warm, sun dappled days of summer in coastal Delaware. And who knows, maybe DELDOT will finally finish Route 1. Then I can truly say…………………..life is good in Slower Lower Delaware.

Sunny Days Again

As twilight descends upon this wonderful sunny spring day, I can report that life for this retired gentleman has returned to sunny days. Yesterday I traveled the 37 mile one way trip to my dentist in Dover to have my new partial denture refitted. I could not use it the way it was. Wearing it was giving me a constant toothache, and I couldn’t chew food on that side of my mouth. Something had to be done or else I was going to go without, thus becoming a true toothless Sussex County native. Good news! Dr. Jolly (yes, that is my dentist’s name) performed her magic on my denture and I am now among the fully- toothed citizens of the eastern shore of Sussex County. If it wasn’t fixed I would have to seriously considering moving to the other side of Route 1 to Millsboro or thereabouts thus joining the many Sussex County toothless natives who live west of Route 1. More good news, my partner has come out of his depression. We are doing things together again. This morning we had our weekly Saturday morning breakfast at Zorba's Restaurant in Rehoboth Beach. Zorba's, formerly the Ocean Point Grille, is a family owned Greek restaurant. It has a comfortable, if not elegant, ambiance and serves home cooked food in a friendly all inclusive atmosphere. This is a restaurant that makes single diners feel comfortable. Food is good, prices are reasonable, service is great, and (a big plus) no screaming kids. What more could two elderly gentlemen want in the way of dining out experience? After breakfast we stopped at Lowes and purchased eight 4 by 4s to build garden boxes at the edge of our back yard. Yesterday, the Birdman of Milton put in two birdhouses for us. One is a purple martin birdhouse and the other is a bluebird house. He told us the purple martins will be arriving the first of May. The bluebird house is positioned directly outside our sunroom window where Bill can watch the activity all spring and summer. Who needs the Disney channel when we have so much of nature right outside our window? Today the temperature reached 78 degrees with no wind and some humidity. It was a tantalizing preview of the long, hazy summer days to come. Perhaps the only downside of the warm weather is that it takes me away from my PC and updating my blogs and website. It isn’t easy sitting in front of my computer with the outside beckoning me through my window. It is easier during the cold blustery days of winter to make the choice to bury myself into my computer and all its addictive charms. For now I will have to balance the lure of outside with the passion of keeping current my blogs and web site current. Life is good.

The Kindness of Strangers

Sometimes, when you least expect it, a stranger comes into your life and offers a helping hand. In this world today, when we are so skeptical of any unsolicited offer of help, it is refreshing to discover that there are still nice people in this world. One such person is a lady that I know as “Happy In Nevada.” I only know her first name. It is Diane. A friend told me that someone had left a comment on my blog. I’ve had comments before on previous blogs. They were usually critical of either my subject matter or writing style. Never a comment that was constructive or helpful. Thus, I proceeded with trepidation to read the comment on my “Computer Frustrations” blog. I had written about my difficulty in adding music to my web site. It was a very complicated and laborious process. I did not know I had the option of adding music to my blog. Happy in Nevada gave me instructions on how to add music. The first thing I thought was, “What’s the catch?” We have become inured these days to someone doing anything nice for us without expecting payment in some form or another. Even worse, Happy in Nevada could be a very clever ruse to put a monster virus in my computer. Tentatively I began to follow her instructions for first selecting music then adding that music to my blog. After a few false starts, my blog had music! My computer didn’t get that dreaded Blue Screen of Death when I added the music. Could it be that Happy in Nevada was just a nice lady who lives in Nevada extending a helping hand to this frustrated computer geek? Yes, she was for real! Like Dr. Frankenstein said when the lightening bolt brought to life his monster “It’s alive! It’s alive!” I’m saying “I have music! I have music!” I’m so enthused now I might start a new blog. I’ll call it “Happy in Delaware.”

Slowly Recovering

All is still not well in paradise. My partner is still silent. This is a pattern he has displayed for most of the forty-three years we have cohabited together. However, I sense that he is coming out of his depression. Every now and then I catch a glimpse of him passing by. That is a positive sign that this period of silence is coming to an end. Even though I say I will get through it each time it happens, it doesn’t get any easier. This past weekend the weather warmed up enough that I could get outside and do some yard work around the house. It only takes a few warm days for the winter pansies to awaken from their chilled slumber. The splashy purple and gold colors of the violas have given Old Man Winter notice that it is time to leave. Yesterday I traveled up north on Route 1 to my HMO dental offices located in Dover, Delaware. My appointment was at 8:30 AM. I arrived in Dover at 7 AM. I missed the morning rush only to sit in the dental office parking lot listening to the robins, starling and sparrows sort things out for the day. Later, I was fitted for my partial denture. It doesn’t fit. Dr. Jolly (ironic name for a dentist), did some grinding down but the denture still didn’t fit. She said to try it for awhile. She told me there was no need for me to make an appointment if I wanted to return for another fitting. I wore it last night at work, still doesn’t fit. As much as I tried to rationalize it to myself, it just doesn’t fit. The bite isn’t right. I thought maybe a good night’s sleep would do the trick. Maybe it was a combination of me being depressed over my partner’s silence and the long day. First thing this morning I placed the denture in my mouth. Still doesn’t fit. I called the dental offices. Dr. Jolly will be in Friday. I now know what I’m doing Friday, I’m returning this denture. As Bette Davis said “Getting old ain’t for sissies!” Perhaps by Friday the silent treatment will be at an end. I do know that the flowers will still be putting on their colorful springtime show. And all will be well with the world again. Even though I will probably never get that denture to fit.

Chickens in Delaware

Shortly after I retired to Delaware, I noticed one thing that was to become ubiquitous on my travels around the roads of Sussex County, the chicken trucks. What are the chicken trucks? These are open bed trucks loaded with cage upon cage of 8 week old boiler chickens headed for slaughter. Sussex County Delaware is the most southern county of Delaware’s three counties. Sussex County land is open and flat, perfect for the long rows of chicken houses. Delaware is ranked 7th in the country for poultry production. I live east of Route 1, which is the ocean side of the peninsula. The demographics of “East of 1” are almost all new Delaware residents. Like me, most of these new Delaware citizens are retirees who moved to Delaware to escape the high taxes of their home states. Others have second homes to take advantage of the resorts of Lewes, Rehoboth Beach, Dewey Beach and other shore attractions. On the “other” side of Rt. 1, are the natives of Sussex County. These natives consist of the descendants of the original Dutch settlers, Nanticoke Indians (true natives) and the recent immigration of Hispanics, mostly Guatemalans. On occasion I have to travel on the other side of “One” to visit a friend or to shop at the local Walmarts (Georgetown and Milford). Almost invariably I will find my Subaru Forester behind one of these chicken trucks. My first reaction is profound sadness. These chickens do not know where there are going. I think of Nazi Germany sending trainloads of Jews to the death camps of Auschwitz and Treblinka. I want to holler “Run for your lives!” Some chickens do escape from their cages, only to be run down on the highway. Shortly after this picture included in this blog was taken, I saw the mangled form of one such chicken along the side of the highway. For all of these chickens, this first and last trip is the first time they have seen daylight in their short lives. They are raised in long, low slung chicken houses under artificial light. Their feet never touch the earth that have been warmed by sunlight. On this last day of their life they are roughly gathered by forearm scarred “chicken catchers” and shoved into wooden cages. These cages are stacked one atop another on the back of a tractor trailer flatbed truck. Thus they begin their Final Journey. They do not know that they will soon meet their end at one of the local chicken processing plants. They will be pulled out of their wooden cages. They will be hung upside down by their legs in a conveyor belt type contraption. The lucky ones will have the electric shock stun them to death before they are eviscerated. When I pass one of these chicken trucks I think of this. Quite frequently I’m on my way to lunch at the Ocean Point Grille II on Long Neck Road. They have a great Chicken Caesar Wrap. I wonder if I’m eating one of those chickens that only a week or so earlier were giving me a quizzical look from their Truck of Death.