Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Last night I went to bed early because I couldn't stand to watch the returns of the Alabama senate race between Republican Roy Moore and Democrat Doug Jones. I feared that Roy Moore would win.
Roy Moore, the accused child molester who has a history of trolling for teenaged girls when he was a district attorney in his thirties.
Roy Moore, the Alabama Supreme Court Chief Justice who was removed twice for refusing to obey the law recognizing same sex marriages.
Roy Moore, who identifies as an evangelical Christian and views homosexuality as a lifestyle that is "against nature," said in a 2005 interview on C-SPAN2 that he believes "homosexual conduct should be illegal."
Roy Moore, who said this about slavery in response to a question from one of the only African Americans in an audience who asked when Moore thought America was last "great": - Moore acknowledged the nation's history of racial divisions, but said: "I think it was great at the time when families were united - even though we had slavery - they cared for one another . . . . our families were wrong, our country had a direction."
These and many other beliefs and actions of Roy Moore made him massively unqualified to represent the fine citizens of Alabama in the Senate of the United States of America.
Shame on all those who voted for Roy Moore especially those self possessed evangelical Christians who chose to ignore the credible child molestation accusations against this repulsive man. How could they?
As I said at the beginning of this post, I went to bed early last night fearing the worst. That I would wake up and find that the homophobic, racist, child molester was elected to the Senate.
I woke up at 3:48 AM for a bathroom break. Dare I touch my iPhone to see what the news was? I didn't because I feared I would get back to sleep.
I went back to bed and slept fitfully for another two hours, waking up at 6:45 AM. Now was the time to touch my iPhone and see the news. I feared the worst.
Wow! The relief I felt was immense.
By the way, Roy Moore doesn't know how to ride a horse. The way he rode his horse to the polls yesterday showed how phony he is. And 32 year old men don't date teenaged girls.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Just got up from my afternoon nap. I had an awful dream.
I usually don't remember the details of my dreams, but I often remember if my dreams were good or bad. This one was a bad one folks. BAD.
Here is my dream in all it's disturbing detail:
I was hanging around Casa Tipton-Kelly (our palatial home here in southern Delaware) and I got it in my head to bike to New England. Specifically Provincetown, my former vacation choice de jour during my Glorious Youth.
I don't remember where Bill was but I think we were having some kind of disagreement and he wasn't speaking to me. This happened not infrequently when we lived in Philly. We would have a disagreement and I would take off for the weekend to visit my friend Bob McCamley who lived near Rehoboth Beach, Delaware which is where I live now. By the time I returned home to our town house in Philly (Philadelphia, PA) Bill would have forgotten what our disagreement was about (usually something insignificant) and my anger would have cooled down. But this time I was already in southern Delaware when I decided to take of ON BIKE for Provincetown, Mass. And I wasn't going to tell anyone about it, which is what I often did when I left Bill in Philly for real back in the Seventies when we had our tiffs.
So there I am, in a major pout taking of on my journey of eight hours and twenty-seven minutes and 503.1 miles from Lewes, Delaware to Provincetown, Mass.
In my dream I don't remember much about my actual journey, only that it was long and I arrived late afternoon Saturday in Provincetown on my bike. No suitcases, backpacks or even a water bottle. Nada. Just me, my bike and my now flabby body. No longer did I have my trim, tight, six pack abs on display to impress and possibly get me a free place to stay with "benefits."
As I am riding down Commercial Street in Provincetown (yes folks, the main street in Provincetown is called Commercial Street, one would think they would have named that street something more intriguing Provincetown being the Gay Capital of the East Coast and all).
As I'm riding down the crowded with tourists Commercial Street I see a gay establishment along the side of the street. Probably something akin to "The Ranch" is where I stayed the very first time I visited Provincetown in 1974 when I was a young and desirable thirty-three year old gay man.
|Me at Herring Cove, Provincetown, Mass 1976, back before my "pouch" (which you will NEVER see a picture of in this blog)|
The proprietor of "The Ranch" (which is what we'll call this gay B & B for lack of a better description) motions for me to pull my bike in. He is intrigued by my still remaining good looks (which is amazing after seventy-six years of a fairly stressful and adventurous life) and asks me to "stay awhile."
|"The Ranch", 198 Commercial Street, Provincetown, Mass|
(when I did stay there in 1974 it was on the first floor to the right in a room called "The Harness Room")
Now I'm starting to lose the details of my dreams but I'll proceed the best I can with what remains of the details of this disturbing dream I just had about an hour ago.
My "host" was dressed like the Jonathan Pryce character in "Game of Thrones", the High Sparrow.
|Jonathan Pryce as the "High Sparrow" in "Game of Thrones"|
(at least he wasn't making me walk "The Walk of Atonement")
Not a good sign. He invite me to have a seat and relax after my long ride. And a long ride indeed I did have. I do remember being very exhausted and thinking that I had to make the bike ride back the very next day (Sunday) to Delaware. That's a LONG bike ride folks. I wonder if I was on I-95 at any part of that ride. But I digress.
But here is what I remember about my dream. I needed a place to stay and the town was pretty full because of the holiday weekend. I don't remember what holiday but I do remember that lodgings would probably be slim pickens if I looked. I don't remember if I had my Discover card with me.
My host, the "High Sparrow"
said I could stay at his place but I would have to "perform a few functions." Immediately my mind raced to imagine just what those "functions" would be. Since I am a Good Boy at my core (and heart) I wasn't prepared to whore myself out just for a night's lodgings.
I never did find out in my dream what my "functions" were to be but I do remember clearly, VERY clearly where he wanted me to stay overnight. It was a small stable like area of about two feet by five feet, separated by burlap bag curtains. I went in but when I laid down my feet stuck out the burlap bag curtains, almost like I was advertising for "company for the night." That's not me folks, never was and never will be. I have somewhat of a checkered history of doing things I wasn't proud of but whoring myself out wasn't one of them. And I wasn't going to start now.
|Gay bathhouse private room - yes, I've been here. No straw on the floor and I kept my door closed ALL night.|
As I emerged from my stable chute (and I think the ground was covered with straw) my shirt flapped open and my host, the High Sparrow saw my flabby mid-section and an immediate wave of revulsion washed across his face like a dark cloud passes over the sun on a sunny day. I thought "uh oh." I immediately thought that I should exit said premises and take my chances on paying for lodging somewhere else in Provincetown.
The last part of my dream that I remember is that I am leaving my hay strewn stable with the burlap curtains (separating me from other stay overs, God knows what "functions" there were performing for such luxurious lodgings) and mounting my bike on Commercial Street with my flabby stomach and heading east in search of cheap accommodations. Thankfully this is when I woke up.
I was exhausted.
I felt dirty.
I felt like a flabby 76 year old gay man.
I felt like my Glory Time is over.
And here I'm blogging about it.
I bet this is probably the strangest blog posting you've ever read but hey, this is my blog and this is my life.
Welcome to my world.
Monday, December 11, 2017
Who doesn't love to people watch?
During our (me and Pat) recent holiday in Philadelphia I took many photos and videos as is my wont. I am fascinated by human nature.
Of course it isn't always easy to capture the "moment" of people just being themselves. When that moment is captured it is often just a matter of being in the right place and the right time.
That's what happened during one of our bus rides down Chestnut Street in center city Philly. I was taking a short video out of the bus windows of the mass of humanity that is the daily activity of big city life.
Now I have a question. Look at this video, knowing that we're in the current climate of sensitivity of sexual harassment. Would you consider the guy giving the eye to the young woman walking down the street a form of sexual harassment? I don't because he didn't bother her but was only expressing his appreciation of her attractiveness. And, I have to be careful here, she was dressed to be attractive, was she not? Now before I fall into that trap of today's extreme political correctness, I try to dress so I look my best. And I have to tell you folks, if someone noticed me on the street like this guy noticed this young lady, I would take it as a compliment.
Just saying, what do you think?
Sunday, December 10, 2017
|Me and my co-worker Carrie, the hotel's gardener during her farewell luncheon (by the way, Carrie and I are the same age. I'm not retiring anytime soon)|
Have you ever been photobombed? I have, plenty of times.
My latest photobombed experience happened last Thursday during a goodbye luncheon at the hotel.
Note the look I'm getting from the gentleman seated to my right. What?
Saturday, December 09, 2017
|Snowy scene early this morning from our back deck|
Good morning folks!
I woke up this morning to snow. What do you know? A white Christmas!
Ah, I remember a time many years ago that I reverently wished for a white Christmas. Yes, had succumbed to that old Bing Crosby song wishing us all a white Christmas. Oh sure, there were a few white Christmases. There was even one that we got twenty-four inches of snow. That was a bit much I have to say. But most Christmases were monochrome, gray Christmases with the only color the blinking Christmas tree lights.
And then there was three years ago when I fell on the snow and ice as I was leaving work and tore my quadricep muscle in my left leg, my fondness for snow and ice permanently left me.
The snowy scene outside this morning is pretty but I'm staying in today, finally addressing my Christmas cards.
Yesterday was another busy day. I had to go down to a local bank where our homeowners' association bylaws are in a safe deposit box. They needed my signature to sign in to the box. I thought this would be in "in and out" but oh how I was mistaken. Two hours later we (my neighbor Marty and I) finally got out of there. The morning was shot. Next week I have to visit our HOA lawyer's office for my signature activity.
Yesterday I attended a farewell luncheon for one of my co-workers at the hotel. While nice that activity also ate up my day because I just stayed at the hotel and worked my shift.
|Farewell luncheon at the hotel|
I have to be honest with you folks, I'm always glad when Christmas is over. The one Christmas tradition I like is addressing and mailing Christmas cards. This is the way I keep in touch with friends, relatives and former co-workers who I haven't seen in years and new friends that I've made through my blogging. But the rest of the Christmas traditions? I can do without those traditions that many others engage in. That activity is fine for them and I'm happy for them. But for me, I look forward to the quiet and stress free days of cold January and February. Putting another Christmas season behind me.
Thursday, December 07, 2017
Sorry folks, I'm so backlogged with things to do this Christmas season that I'm not able to update my blog. I don't know whether it is that I have more to do or that I'm just slowing down. I suspect it's a combination of both. One thing I do know is that I'm losing ground in keeping up. I feel like that hamster in a wheel.
Now to get back to those Christmas cards.
Sunday, December 03, 2017
Folks, I have returned!
Yes, I'm back from my week long sojourn in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. And as usual I (we) had a FABULOUS time!
I just got up from a much need nap about an hour ago. Didn't take any naps while I (we) were in Philly so I have a lot of catching up to do.
Pat just texted me. He's still on his way back to his spectacular condo in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. He caught his bus out of Philly this morning at precisely 7 AM. Yes, it takes him over twelve hours to get home. He just texted me a few minutes ago from Buffalo, New York. He's about to go through customs before entering Canada. Customs is tough, I hope they don't strip him looking for contraband.
I need a lot of recoup time. I'll write more about our stay in Philly and it's environs in the coming week. Right now I need some dinner.
Ah, it is so nice to be home. Nice to go on trips and all that adventure but also very nice to come home with this new appreciation of my home.
Life is good folks but I am tired. I can see the time where I will no longer be able to make these trips. But for right now I'll take these trips and experience and enjoy all these new adventures that I have with my good friend Pat and share those experiences with you, my loyal blog followers.
Love you all!
|And believe me, I did contribute generously to the local Philly economy this past week!|