"Your Plants Are Lovely"

Me yesterday on our back deck with my planters of color - my arrangement folks!

"Your plants are lovely."  That was the comment one of my Facebook friends made when I posted this picture that Bill took of me yesterday on our back deck.

Both Bill and I love flowers.  We love the color. 

My last blog post I ranted about Bill turning off our irrigation system thus depriving my plants of much needed water during our current hot spell. Bill didn't realize that he was drying out our flowers, he was concerned about overwatering our lawn.  I am not.  I said "Let the mushrooms grow!"

Bill has since turned on the irrigation system and will let it run three times a week (Monday, Wednesday and Friday) as it is currently programmed.  We do have a rain meter which disables the irrigation system if the skies open and our lawn receives rain from Heaven. No worries there.

After a wet spring, we have been enjoying some really spectacular summer weather here where we live in southern coastal Delaware. In my previous life when I lived in Philadelphia, PA I would wish I lived "at the beach" so I could enjoy those ultra violet cancer causing sun rays on the beach.  How ironic that now I live near the beach, I never go there in the summer.  The main reason is that Rehoboth Beach (and Lewes Beach) is just way too congested.  And besides, my laying in the sand days are over, since I contracted with my dermatologists over thirty years to ago to visit semi-annual to check for pre cancerous skin lesions (actinic keratosis). 
 

Me at Herring Cove, Provincetown, Mass circa 1976 - in my pre visit the dermatologist for skin cancer days

So far no skin cancer for yours truly but those little bumps keep showing up with regularity. I've lost count how many times I've had them burned off with dry ice and even several times surgery perform to take a chunk of my flesh out for a biopsy. But I digress, I started this blog posting talking about how pretty our flowers are this year.

Flowers are my passion. All my life I wanted a home where I could grow all manner of plants, almost all flowers and herbs.  I rarely grow vegetables, there are too many local options for buying fresh vegetables.  I do have a few cherry tomato plants but that's about it. I lost my taste for growing vegetables the year I grew broccoli.  I steamed my freshly picked broccoli al dente, just the way I like it.  Prepared to savor the taste of my own freshly grown broccoli I ate my first bunch. Bitter!  What was that taste?  I looked and lo and behold I discovered that I had eaten "broccoli caterpillars" that were the same color as the broccoli.  That was my last time growing my home grown veggies (with the aforementioned exception for cherry tomatoes).  

Tomorrow is the first day of summer. I am prepared folks!

The only thing on my agenda this summer is a colonoscopy (always a "fun" time) coming up at the beginning of July.  Do I know how to celebrate the Fourth or what?

I made my call for jury duty Saturday not and the good news is that I didn't have to report.  One more call next Saturday then I'm home free.  In a way I would like to do jury duty (never have) but at my age and my Morning Bathroom Issues, I don't know if I would be the ideal candidate to sit in the jury box.  Especially since I couldn't have my iPhone with me.

I didn't know Bill took this picture but here it is anyway. A good way to end this blog post (I guess)

Do You Think it is Easy?

Volcano erupting

Venting time folks. Time for Ron to vent.

I try not to post too personal of situations to this blog but sometimes I just have to vent. 

Next month will be me and Bill's 52nd anniversary as a couple.  Three years officially married.  Folks, it hasn't been easy.

By nature I am a loner. A LONER.

When I met Bill 52 years ago on that rainy Saturday night at the Westbury Bar in Philadelphia, I had no intention of living with anybody for the rest of my life.  

From the time I was twelve years old, living in the maelstrom of a family life that included a Father who constantly put me down and treated me as an annoyance at best.  A home life lived in second floor apartments without the benefit of a backyard yard that almost all of my schoolmates took for granted.  The only backyards I saw were those I mowed for .50 cents from some of my customers on my paper route.  

Me (center, tall boy looking down) with my brother (far right) and friends from in front of the second floor apartment building where I grew up - our home was Grand Central Station - no privacy - I'm eleven years old in this photo and realized at this time I want my own home - ALONE

From the time I was twelve years old I wanted to live on my own.  By myself. Solo.  

Me (with hoagies in hand) with my Mother and brother Isaac at our second floor apartment on Boot Road - 1954

By the way, as I write this posting I can tell it's going to be longer than usual so if you have something more important or interesting to do I suggest you exit now because I'm really going to vent.

Back to my sad tale.  So I met Bill lo these fifty-tow years ago.  I liked him.  He liked me.  In fact he treated my like a prince.  Like no one ever treated me before.  I liked that.  

I started to see Bill regular.  I wasn't too concerned that Bill wasn't "my type."  Oh sure, he was good-looking and popular.  He was masculine and not effeminate like so many in the gay bar scene.  He was all man and he liked me.  

The twice weekly trip from Coatesville, Pennsylvania to Pennsauken, New Jersey that Bill used to pick me up and drop me off - door to door service

I didn't have a car.  I had a small, furnished efficiency apartment in Coatesville, Pennsylvania; 44 miles away or just over an hour away.  Bill had a two bedroom apartment in Pennsuaken, New Jersey, just over the Delaware River from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The total distance from my modest apartment in Coatesville, PA to Pennsauken, NJ was 55 miles, an hour and 21 minutes away.

Bill would pick me up every Friday night at my apartment in Coatesville, PA and transport my young self to his apartment in Pennsauken, NJ.  Every Sunday night he would reverse that trip.  He did this every weekend for the next six months.  Folks, who else would do that for me?

Me with Bill at his Pennsauken New Jersey apartment 1964

Even though I liked Bill it didn't take me too long to realize that we are almost totally opposite in every respect.  And I mean every respect.  But he treated me with respect.  He treated me like a prince.  I loved it.

Then came a time when he asked me to move in with him.  I put him off.  I told him I always wanted to live by myself.  I wanted the freedom of coming and going without having to explain every moment of my life's movement to someone else.  Which is what I always had to do when I lived at home.  The three years I was in the Army I was a little freer but, well when you're in the Army they want to know where you are all the time too.

When Bill realized that I didn't want to move in with him he became angry.  This was the first time I saw him angry.  I was torn.  Me, who grew up always trying to please everyone so they would like me, I was making someone I liked and respected a lot angry.  

For a week or so we were at an impasse.  Finally he said "You can have all the freedom you want, I just want you to live with me."  He said "You can come and go as you please but just live with me."

Well folks, he was good as his word. Sort of.  Early on in our relationship he traveled a lot with his job.  I was on my own during those months he was traveling on business. 

From the time I moved in with him from 1965 to 1980 when we moved out in the country, Bill had a job in which he traveled and was away from home for months at a time. Those few months of "freedom" was enough to satisfy my need to be alone.  

Then came a time when they wanted to send Bill to Africa.  At that time I was making enough money to support the both of us.  We were moving into a house in the country which we had built to our specifications.  I suggested to Bill that he take an early buy out and just stay home and take care of the house.  He took my suggestion and thus hasn't worked at a regular job since 1980.  However, that didn't mean he didn't work because he took care of the home.  Very well.  Bill is very handy around the house (I am not) and he took care of everything except the gardening.  That was my bailiwick.

So what is the point of this way too long blog posting?  Where is my rant?  Well folks, this morning I found out that Bill did it again.  The one area in which I work very hard to have a beautiful home is my landscaping and gardening.  Remember back when I said Bill and I are total opposites in almost everything? Bill can't help himself.  He cut off the irrigation of our one acre of land this week.  Yep, he did it and didn't tell me about it.  Here I am slaving over getting all the planting in and they're struggling to survive and I can't figure out what's happening.  Then I realized that Bill had changed the irrigation cycle form three times a week (Monday, Wednesday and Friday to OFF).  He said "The lawn had enough water."  When I confronted him about the fact that my flowers and planting aren't getting enough water and struggling he put his fingers in his ears and walked away.  He didn't want to hear it.  

Me and Bill last year on our 51st anniversary

Yep, that's the way Bill handles our "discussions." He doesn't discuss.  Like I said, totally opposite from me.  

Now this irrigation thing is just one instance.  When we lived in our house in Pennsylvania he turned off the whole house ventilation system and insisted we have air conditioners in each room.  

Our house "in the country" - lovely on the outside but uncomfortable on the inside

We had a big, beautiful house but Bill made it so we were restricted to certain rooms.  There was a protocol (which I never got and was always the source of some heated, loud arguments) for what doors were to be kept open and which were to be kept closed.  To me our big, beautiful house was useless because it was totally uncomfortable, a fact that was brought to our attention several times during visits by relatives and friends.  But Bill wouldn't hear of it because Bill Is Always Right.

When I had this house built here in Delaware I forbade Bill from being involved.  He didn't see the house until it was finished.  I thought all was fine until last year when we had to have our whole HVAC system replaced (very expensive).  At that time I discovered that Bill had AGAIN blocked off the whole house ventilation system with cardboard in the vents air intakes.  I was furious.

Folks, I rarely get mad.  I may rant but I rarely get mad.  Anybody gets mad around here it always Bill getting mad at me and almost always for the same reason:  I DON'T PAY ENOUGH ATTENTION TO HIM.  Remember what I said about me being a loner?  I am folks, to my soul.

Well, we got the whole house ventilation thing straightened out but not before Bill retreated with his hands over his ears again, not wanted to hear anything from me.

Now folks I'll be the first to admit I'm not the easiest person to live with.  Maybe that's why I prefer to live alone.  I realize there are benefits to living with someone.  You have someone you can talk to when you get home from work to tell about that day's events.  You have skills that compliment one another.  Bill and I are lucky that way because where I excel in certain skills he excels in those areas where I don't.  I run the household, cook, garden and deal with all outside contacts.  Bill mows the grass, and does handyman work around the house.  Bill spends NO money on himself, unlike me.  I spend a LOT of money on myself.  

So where is this rant going?  Just venting folks.  Bill and I are coming up on our 52nd anniversary and I just wanted to tell you, living together with the same person for 52 years is always a work in progress.  It isn't easy.  But I do love the guy and I would never leave him.  

However, I am so fortunate that I found a new friend in Pat, my Canadian friend.  Pat too is a loner.  We converse each day by text message and FaceTime.  Four times a year we get together.  Yep, once each quarter.

Pat in his Toronto "hoose" and me on FaceTime via our iPhones

In February we visit Hollywood, California for a two week stay.  Pat and I both love the glamour and history of Los Angeles and Hollywood.  

Me and Pat in LA this past January (Silver Lake) - we don't look too "touristy" do we?

In the Fall, around my November birthday, we meet in our other favorite city, Philadelphia PA. 

Me and Pat on Broad Street in Philadelphia PA

My former hometown.  During that visit we take a quick run down here to my home here in Sussex County, in southern Delaware near Rehoboth Beach.  At the end of August I fly to Buffalo to met Pat to spend a few days in Niagara Falls and then his home in Toronto, Canada.

Me and Pat at the Easton Mall, downtown Toronto, Canada

 Every year I do so look forward to those visits.  I LOVE Canada.  Then in the Spring we visit Philadelphia again.  

Pat and I have so much in common that we're often mistaken for brothers.  In fact it has become a favorite mime how many cities that strangers will come up to us and ask us if we're bothers. So far the list includes:

1. Lewes, Delaware while waiting in line to pay our bill at Nectar restaurant Pat was talking to another Canadian and he asked if I was Pat's brother.
2. The next "sighting" was walking down Pat's street in Toronto and he introduced me to one of his neighbors and the neighbor asked if I was Pat's brother.
3. The third time was when we were at the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles, and Pat was talking-to another tourist, and that tourist asked if we were brothers.
4. The fourth time was while standing in line at Studio B in West Hollywood,
5. 
   

   

   Standing in line outside the studio to get into the audience for "The Price is Right"

6. 
   
waiting to be seated in the audience for "The Price is Right" and while talking to someone else in the line, one of them said "You're brothers aren't you?"
7. Oh, I just remembered one more time.  We were at Hollywood and Vine taking selfies as the touristas that we were when someone offered to take our picture.  They asked "Are you brothers?"  

Me and Pat (before we lost our hats on the roller coaster) at the Canadian Expo - "You guys brothers?"

Every time we're asked Pat and I are always surprised because we don't think we look alike.  But maybe it is our mannerisms because Pat and I are so much alike in our outlook in life.  Our likes and dislikes.  He hates fish and seafood just like I do.  Bill LOVE seafood.  Pat is sweet, gentle and caring.  I like to think I am.  I am aren't I?

Well look folks, this diatribe has gone on long enough.  I have to give profs to anyone who has read through this whole, long blog posting but as I said at the beginning of this post.  I just had to vent.  

It's highly doubtful that Pat and I will ever live together.  Pat is a loner just as much as I am. In fact I often tease him about he doesn't have to report where he goes.  What time he will be back. And all the other annoyances that come with living with someone.  But you know what folks?  If I had it to do any differently I doubt if I would.  I am one of those fortunate few who found love early in life.  Not the Swinging From the Chandeliers Love,

sex 24/7 that I had imagined but a true and lasting love with Bill.  And now I have my friendship with Pat.  Do I have the best of both world or what?  And I'm complaining?

Well, I just had to vent.  Bill is going to turn on the irrigation system again and hopefully this time he'll leave it alone.  I know I have a good life folks but it isn't all smooth sailing.  Takes work. But it's worth it. 

"Pure Power"

In college I majored in marketing. I loved that major. Unfortunately I did not pursue a career in marketing. But that doesn't men that I don't know good marketing when I see it.


I am one of those rare people who study commercials.  I have several main complaints about TV commercials:

• Commercials that feature the "dumb white man"as the central "funny" clueless consumer
• Commercials that feature actors that are too pretty and too skinny for the general public to identify with
• Commercials that feature a wailing singer strumming a guitar singing about "life" 
• Commercials that are just loud
• Commercials that offer a "guarantee" 

And this is just a short list. Most commercials are ineffective and annoying.  Very few are informative and enjoyable.

The commercials we used to be ffed

However, every now and then on of these ad agencies "gets it" and makes a commercial that is not only innovative and pleasurable but breaks stereotypes.  One such commercial is the latest from Allstate Insurance which features the black female comedian Leslie Jones from "Saturday Night Live."  I have never seen Leslie Jones before but I have to tell you this is ONE EFFECTIVE commercial because not only is it enjoyable to watch, it is effective because now I will remember the company that the commercial is advertising - Allstate Insurance.  

Very good folks, very good.

Thoughts On Donald J. Trump

As I predicted in one of my blog posts many months ago, Donald J. Trump is the (presumptive) Republican nominee for the presidency of the United States.

At first I liked Donald Trump. I liked the fact that he shook up the political (Republican) establishment.  Many of the things he said were things I thought.  Jeb Bush was "low energy."  Former Texas governor Rick Perry did get glasses so he "looked smarter."  Marco Rubio was "Little Marco" who was robotic.  Dr. Ben Carson was (and is) a whacko.  Yes, I thoroughly enjoyed the Trump putdowns on the Establishment Republican candidates.  Apparently I wasn't alone in my admiration and approval of Trump shaking up the established order.  Trump got more votes in the primaries than any Republican candidate in the history of the United States.

Now I have to wonder if some of those voters are having second thoughts after Trump's pronouncements about the "Mexican judge" who is overseeing the Trump University fraud case.  The judge isn't Mexican.

Then last week, after the horrible mass shooting in Orlando, Florida Trump showed his abysmal ignorance again by railing against the shooter who he said was "born in Afghan."  Actually the shooter was born in Queens, New York, just like Trump.

I think by now it is quite obvious to most level headed people that Trump has a narcissistic personality disorder.  He is a pathological liar.  Even worse, he believe his lies.  

Donald Trump is a con man.  He is a fraud. 

But you know what folks?  People who continue to support Trump know these facts and will continue to support him.  Of course one of the reasons is that they hate Hillary that much (which I don't nor will ever understand). These people would probably vote for Charles Manson before they would vote for Hillary Clinton.  As I said, I don't understand that hate just like I don't understand the hate for President Obama.

However, I think the other reason I think is that those Trump supporters are so disgusted with our present political system that they would vote for any strong personality who challenges that political system.  I understand that feeling because that is the way I feel too.  But folks, would I vote for Trump?  Not on your life and nor should you if you care about our country.

One thing is for sure, the next five months are sure going to be interesting as the Republican leadership twist themselves into knots supporting a candidate that they clearly know is  certifiably insane.

DirecTV - Great Service!!

Servicemen "Gregg" of DirecTV

Time for some good news folks.  

Yesterday I had a visit from a DirecTV serviceman. My whole house system needed upgrading.

I've been dreading this visit.  I dread any visit by a serviceman (or "person", although usually I don't see women as service persons).  

One of the reasons is that I have wall to wall carpeting and I don't like people traipsing around in my house with their shoes/boots.  Who knows where those shoes/boots have been walking on.  You know what I'm talking about.  

Another reason is that Bill and I, in our advanced years (old folks here) don't like our daily routine disrupted. 

And yet another reason is that I feared a service person messing around with all my in house wiring and WIFI would disrupt my Comcast Internet connection.  And that folks was my BIG fear because if my Comcast connection got messed up, I would have to call Comcast and you know what that's like.  Comcast is notorious for awful service.  I have my Comcast Internet connection working now, after a lot of frustration several months ago when my rented Comcast modem/router failed, and I just didn't want to go through that very frustrating experience of trying to get Comcast service.  Sorry for the long run on sentence but I get riled up when talking about Comcast and their lack of service.

Well folks, I need not have worried.

"Greg", the DirecTV service man showed up exactly on time when I was informed prior to his arrival.  Contrast this when I was to receive a Comcast service call and no one came.  No call, no visit, no apology.  In fact, Comcast never did show up and I had to do the hookup over the phone (took hours) but I won't go into that now.  

Greg got out of his truck, greeted me with a smile and showed me his photo ID.  Wow.  Good start!

Then he explained what he was going to do.  Changed all four of my stations.  Upgrade the coaxial cable and upgrade the connections on my satellite dish.  

And . . . . he put on booties to cover his work boots. I thank him and apologized for the inconvenience. He said "It is inconvenient but I don't mind if that is what you prefer."  Hey folks, could you imagine one of those surly, sub-contracted Comcast service workers saying that?  I can't. 

He told me "I see where you are a 17 year customer of DirecTV and we appreciate your business."  Folks, I'm just not used to this kind of service and I have to tell you I was mighty pleased.  

When Gregg encountered the first dos he was to replace he said "You DO have some old equipment."  Tell me about it Gregg.  

Gregg was here about three hours.  Of course our routine was disrupted but  you know what folks, it was all worth it.  I now have the most current equipment and all kinds of new features. And you know how much this cost me?  

ZERO

Not to keep bashing Comcast, (but I will) which does have excellent Internet connections, can you imagine what the cost would have been had they sent a service person here?  I can tell you one thing, they would never have honored my request to wear booties.  

Yesterday I experienced something very rare folks, good service!

Thank you DirecTV!

"He Hated Gays"

"He hated gays".  That is what Omar Mateen's former wife said of her abusive husband.

Omar Mateen, the murderer of forty-nine innocent men and women at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Florida, was filled with hate of the love gay people show for each other. 

His father said that two months ago his son saw two men kissing one another in Miami and became very angry because he was with his three-year old son. 

Omar Mateen was only one of all too many people in this country who continue to have a simmering hatred of gays.

For those of you reading this blog who are not gay, it is probably difficult for you to understand what it's like to be gay and to live your life knowing that there are people out there who wish you dead just because you're gay.

A few years ago, Bill and I were visiting the mountains of western North Carolina where my father was born.  "Hillbilly" country.  We had visited that area several times before.  This time I was with my straight cousin and his wife to introduce them to our distant cousin.  The night before we were to visit, I called just to confirm our visit.  I was asked by the son "Ron, I have a question to ask you."  I said "What is that?"  My second cousin one removed said "There is a rumor that you practice the gay lifestyle.  Is that true?"  I paused and then said "If you're asking me if I'm gay, I am."  He then said "Now get this bud, if you come anywhere near my parent's place you're going to have me to deal with!  You got that?"  

Me in the beautiful mountains of western North Carolina three years ago before I was threatened when it became public knowledge I was gay - I will probably never return

Me in the home of my cousin.  Her husband is talking to me.  This was before he knew I was gay.  He did make a comment about President Obama and "quares".  

Portrait of my cousin's family before they knew I was gay. The man in green on the right is the one who threatened me on the phone about visiting his parents.  Welcome to North Carolina.  And to think at one time I thought I would retire to this beautiful country.

A chill went through me.  Hate.  Homophobia.  I was now "less than" in the eyes of my cousin.  That old sickening feeling returned to my stomach. Unbridled hatred right in my face soley for who I am.  

Many times in my life I have faced this hatred.  Many times in my life I have encountered the danger.  Even once I was physically attacked at a political town hall by a member of the audience just because I stood up and identified myself as a gay man.  

In my younger years I often frequented gay bars and clubs. I felt safe there.  Those places was where I felt safe.  Where I felt empowered.  Where I didn't feel "less than."  

Me on the dance floor at a Philadelphia gay club, Halloween 1980

I just cannot imagine how those young men and women who were at The Pulse nightclub felt when they realized a hate filled mad man was there in their safe place sole with the intent to kill them.  

Sunday's attack was a terrorist attack but it was much more.  It was an open attack on the gay community.  No longer can a young gay man or woman feel safe at their preferred place of gathering with friends. 

The Double L Bar in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware - a place where I used to visit with friends and feel safe

I don't go out to bars on a regular basis anymore.  I'm too old and just can't stay up that late.  However, I do like the music and when I'm on vacation in Los Angeles, I go to Oil Can Harry's that has a special disco night.  Next year I'll go there again.

Oil Can Harry's, Los Angeles, California

Not to make this about me but I am having an unusual reaction to this tragedy.  Of course I've always known the hatred and the fact that living openly as a gay man was dangerous for me.  That my life was at risk. Like the time I was almost hit by a car of drunk teenagers from Boston who were intent on gay bashing after a night of drinking.  I was walking a lonely road back to my motel room from the center of Provincetown, Massachusetts.  As I heard then yelling "Hey, hit the fag!" and swerved their car towards me, I jumped off the side of the road into the bushes, narrowly missing death.  That was just once instance of me avoiding a gay bashing.  I can recount at least a half a dozen more.  But I am not alone in these experiences. But one place I always felt safe was when I was in the bar or the club.  No more.  

This morning I was reading the identities of twenty of the victims.  All were young and of Hispanic heritage.  I have nothing in common with them except that I am gay as they were gay. 

They were on the threshold of their lives. Out for a good time with friends at a safe place.  Then Hell descends on them.  Tears welled up in my eyes.  

As I write this blog, I choke up.  A great sadness overcomes me as I think of their families that will no longer have their loved ones in their lives.  

So, so sad.  

When I was their age, my worry was the police and gay bashers.  My fear was physical safety and surviving in an economy which did not favor a openly gay man.  Never once did I have to fear that someone would enter the one place where I felt safe, a gay bar or club and kill me.  

The past few years I thought perhaps, just maybe, the hatred of gays had lessened.  Maybe not folks, maybe not.

Tragedy in Florida

This morning I woke up to the news that a Orlando, Florida night club called "The Pulse" is now the scene of the largest mass murder in American history. 

A gunman, identified as Omar Mateen, opened fire with an automatic assault rifle and killed fifty victims and injured fifty three others.

I cannot tell you the profound sadness that I feel right now.  So, so sad.  


Reports says that the shooter's father reported that his son, Omar Mateen, was very angry when he say two men kissing. 

How ironic, that an act of love would result in such a horrific act of hate. 

I don't know why.  I really don't have an answer to this evil. 

Many times in my past I have frequented gay clubs like "The Pulse."  These days, in my old age, I go to bed too early to attend such late night activities.  

My heart goes out to the families of the victims.  

So sad and horrible.