Monday Meanderings

 Big whoop! The Philadelphia Eagles won yesterday and are going to the Super Bowl. The Philadelphia fans are the best! I'm going to miss living in the city when they win the Super Bowl and rest assured, the Philadelphia Eagles will win the Super Bowl.

This morning in about an hour I take myself and Bill down to our local hearing aid practice to get our hearing aids checked out.  Bill needs a remote volume control and I need my repaired or replaced charger. They audiology place is near the new Redner's so I'll stop in and see if they have anymore of that delicious sauerkraut and bratwurst I got there a few weeks ago. Expense ($9.99 a pound!) but very, very tasty. Oh sure, all that bratwurst fat and spices caused me some stomach upset but hey, what doesn't now?

The photo above is a picture of two my longtime friend Larry's cats. I think they're both gone over the Rainbow Bridge now but looking at this picture reminds me again of how I would like to have a cat (or two) to keep my company. I think a cat or cats lazing around the house are great stress reliever. Not for me at this time of my life though, just taking care of Bill and myself is all I can handle right now. So for my stress reliever I depend on this deep house continues rave music I have playing on my You Tube Premium account as I type out this random subject blog.

Yesterday I watched the last quarter of the NFC championship game with the Philadelphia Eagles and San Francisco 49er's. Seeing the skyline of Philadelphia reminds me of how much I miss living in center city Philadelphia. I'll never live their again (can't afford it now) but I hope to get back to our twice a year visits with my longtime friend Don McK. Don recently lost his longtime friend who lived in the same co-op building he has lived in for almost thirty years. Now it's Don and the old ladies he plays Scrabble with. Pat and I are trying to talk him into moving with us to Paradise, also known as Palm Springs California when Pat and I make the Big Move. I dread moving again but I have to facile reality, it's Palm Springs or an assisted living facility in my future. I would love to stay here in southern Delaware where I am so comfortable in my house and with my things that I have accumulated over the last eighty-one years of my fabulous life. But it probably is not to be. Pat is a big city boy and living here in Lower Slower would bore him to a comatose state of stultification. I love him too much to do that to him. There could be worse fates than moving to Palm Springs. At least I'll have a support group in Palm Springs. Not for nothing a lot of older gay men retired to that desert oasis. And there is NO SNOW. We haven't had any snow here in southern Delaware yet which is just fine by me.

Have to go now!

Go Iggles!

 

Ah yes, that is yours truly at the top of the stairs (of course)

The Philadelphia Eagles football team will be playing the San Francisco 49er's today at 3 PM EST for the National Football League championship.

The picture above was taken in the year 2001 when I worked at First Financial Bank in Downingtown, Pennsylvania. That was the year the Philadelphia Eagles were going to the Super Bowl in New Orleans. Unfortunately they lost but hey, always exciting when your hometown team goes to the Super Bowl.

I've always been a Philadelphia sports team fan from my preteen days in the early Fifties. I don't follow all the games closely during the season like I used to in those black and white TV days but when a Philadelphia team has a chance to win a national championship or World Series, I'm there!

I have a feeling the "Iggles" are going to the Super Bowl and completely roll over whoever the American League winner is.

Sports competition are so important to our mental health. We humanoids have a natural need for competition. Sports competition is also another way for us to get relief from the every day stresses and pressure of our daily lives.  If you're not a sports fan then something is the matter with you. My opinion of course but there it is. 

Plugging Along

Yours truly supervising the digging of a new well at our old property in Pennsylvania

Now you ask "What is this picture than Ron has posted on his blog?" First, it has nothing to do with this blog posting. I decided to dig into my treasure chest of thousands of photos and post iconic ones from my past. You all have seen enough of my current reality of aged old gay men. These days sometimes I prefer to remember the glory days of my youth. Didn't seem like glory days back then but in retrospect, well you know. This particular photo was taken about 1994 at our Pennsylvania house when our well ran dry. Yes, our two gallons a minute well went dry and we had to dig a new well. This is yours truly butching it up on the well digging machine. By the way, the new well didn't get that much more water but we did have water again.

This morning I got Bill up as I have been doing for the past two years. These days the morning preparation is taking longer. For one thing I'm getting up later. I used to get up before seven o'clock but now my rise up and greet the sunshine day begins with me arising from a dead sleep sometime after eight am. Then, after I complete my morning ablutions (I have to get myself ready for the day too), I descend the thirteen steps to Bill's basement bedroom to the right at the end of the steps. 

Bill is usually awake, waiting for me. I get the pink plastic hospital basin that I had absconded with during one of my or Bill's hospital stays. Into his bathroom I turn on the hot water in the basin and suds up Dial soap in the basin full of hot water.

Into Bill's bedroom I go and give him a fresh wash cloth soaked in the hot water. He washes his bald head (no toupee these declining days) and face. I rinse out the cloth and help him up. I have to undress him and change his Depends. I give him a fresh washcloth and he washes his private parts.  I apply a medicated salve to his buttocks which have had an ugly rash. I rinse the wash cloth again and wash his legs. I soak his feet for a few minutes in the basin of Dial anti bacterial soap suds.  After I dry his feet off wash his right leg wound which is still leaking from the giant blister he got from his last hospital stay where he had a large blood clot in his right leg.

Then it is time to apply the dressing to his leg. 

Clean the wound

Apply a non-adherent pad

Apply a larger gauze pad over the non-adherent pad

Wrap gauze around the two pads

Wrap a expandable bandage over all

Apply a leg holding over all of the previous

Now comes for the hard part, getting his pants on. Bill is so weak these days that I have to put each pant leg on separately. I go through the hardship of putting pants on Bill so he can maintain some dignity in his day to day life. I hope I never have to go the route of my friend Lar who has ALS and spend the day in underwear or shorts. I know that would be more convenient but Bill's never worn shorts in his life when he was healthy and I'm not going to put him there at this time of his life. He's suffered and suffering enough indignities as it is. It took some time to convince him to wear Depends but he does now and is used to it. And that saves me a lot of work folks. A lot. There aren't as many accidents as there where when he first came home from the rehab facility a couple years ago but there is still the occasional accident. Depends work. So much better than taking someone's pants off when the poop is all down one leg. By the way, an interesting fact, the poop always goes down one leg of the pants. 

Now we're ready to go upstairs for Bill's morning medications and breakfast.

I have to crush Bill's pills. He can't swallow whole pills. I give him is crushed pills with a spoonful of applesauce.

I have to grind to a powder his oatmeal. After I make the oatmeal I put three tablespoons of sugar on it (Bill likes his oatmeal very sweet) and half and half, oat milk or egg nog. I put this concoction into my blender and liquify the oatmeal. Bill drinks his oatmeal breakfast.

In between all this I take my medication and prepare my breakfast of strawberries and cereal. 

Bill takes about twenty minutes to swallow his breakfast of oatmeal. He still has trouble swelling but, thank goodness, he not choking since I've been liquefying his oatmeal. 

Bill is very self conscious about his slurping sounds when he drinks his oatmeal so I usually tell him I'm going outside for my morning walk. Lately it's been too cold to go outside for a walk so I go to another room in the house while he "eats" his breakfast. I repeat this routine at five o'clock for his "dinner". For lunch he has a bottle of vanilla flavored Ensure. He used to snack on cookies, especially the shortbread cookies that I made for him but since he's come home from the hospital he's lost his appetite for cookies and any other snacks like caramel candies he used to have melt in his mouth.

Other than our one ride a day and if one of us has a doctors' appointment, Bill spends most of the rest of the day sleeping in his Archie Bunker Chair in our sunroom. Sometimes he listens to the local Fox propaganda radio station (the only one that comes in clear). Often when he go out for out daily ride he repeats those MAGA lies ("caravans of criminals are coming on our southern border!" or "The Biden Crime Family is ruining our country!") I have to remind him that what he's listening to are all lies and propaganda for the gullible Deplorables to send money to those grifters. He confused. He doesn't know what to believe because "he heard it on the radio." Just another challenge I have to face folks but we can't get any other talk radio stations. The other stations are all commercials or current style "music" and for an old guy like Bill that is torture to listen to.

Ah, for the days when our only challenge was digging a new well. I didn't realize how good I had it at that time.

 

The Early Days

Me and Bill on our wedding day July 3, 2013

 Bill and I first met in July of 1964. That's the date we count as our anniversary. We were married on the exact days of our 49th anniversary which by coincidence was the first day (July 3rd, 2013) that marriage was legal in the state of Delaware. The above picture is of me and a mortified Bill (he was always so embarrassed about showing affection in public) on our wedding day at the Sussex County Courthouse in Georgetown, Delaware. We waited a long time to make our relationship official.

Prior to getting married we, of course, lived in sin. Paid higher taxes, were often discriminated against, harassed, threatened and all the other "good stuff" that went with same sex couples. 

Since I began this blog in 2005, I think I've posted most of my old pictures of Bill and I together but there are some I haven't posted. The one below is of me at Bill's garden apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey. We would spend our weekends in his apartment going out occasionally to bowl or just ride around. We weren't much for restaurants or other activity. We just liked being with one another. And like many new couples we took pictures. Suggestive, sometimes racy pictures. Of course I'm not going to post all of those pictures but here is one in which Bill posed me. 

A very young (22) me at Bill's apartment summer of 1964

I've been posting too many sad posts lately so I thought I would post something positive, or funny, depending on your perspective. This photo obviously made back when we were living in sin, just awful homosexuals. But hey, we were happy just being together just like now we're happy being together. 

The first five year or so when we lived together, Bill was often gone for months at a time with his job at RCA then GE. He worked on the Sears Tower in Chicago (yes, he really did climb that highest spire to connect an antenna). When he worked for GE (who took over RCA), he worked on space satellites. For a time he even worked on the Today show in New York City.

This photo from Bill when he was working in New York City at NBC.

Bill has had quite the varied career. I'll post more photos in future blogs. This is my tribute for the ages (those in the future one hundred years from now wondering how two gay men could stay together almost sixty years). 

I'll leave this post with another picture of Bill from our weekends together at his place in 1964. Note the bowling ball, that was our Big Deal back then. Does anybody bowl these days?

Bill Is Back On Home Hospice

 

Bill's hospice care nurse visit yesterday, every time the nurse's visit they always ask "Are those pictures of you?" Yes, folks, that WAS me. 

Bill put them up, not me. 

Bill has been approved and readmitted to home hospice care. Thank God.

He's weaker now and clearly declining. Having him on home hospice care will make it so much easier when he passes. The next time he has an medical emergency I won't have to drag him to the urgent care clinic and then to the emergency room to only end up hooked up to various and sundry tubes and other medical devices monitoring his condition until he dies.

Our number one goal is to have him here at home when he passes. He loves our home. This is where he is most comfortable. Being with me, sitting in his beloved sunroom, sleeping in his cozy, tucked away bedroom in the basement. 

He can still climb and descend the thirteen stairs to his bedroom and personal bathroom right across his bedroom. He is very careful walking. Since he's had his strokes two years ago he hasn't fallen once. I've lost count of the times I've fallen. 

Bill spends about twenty hours a day sleeping now. He's more confused now but still knows who I am. 

I have to liquefy his morning and evening oatmeal ("with extra sugar!") meals. He doesn't snack on his favorite thin lemon Oreo cookies now nor his caramel candies. He doesn't eat his occasional spoonful of ice creams. He does however, take a vanilla instant pudding occasionally. 

He's lost more weight. I think he weighs less than I do now. He used to weigh about two hundred lbs. The last two years his weight has dropped twenty pounds or so. Now he weighs about one hundred and seventy pounds. I hover around 160 to 170. Actually I've lost more weight since this latest health episode with him.

Bill's right leg is healing from the removal of that cup full of blood clot that had so horribly swollen up his leg. His leg is still swollen but less so. I still have to bandage his leg every morning. It weeps. 

Our hospice service has been wonderful. They are so caring and helpful. 

Last week we had the lady come in and stay about three hours while she did the admittance protocol (questions, papers, signatures, et al). The next day a nurse came in to evaluate our medical supply needs. And from here on we will have a weekly visit by a hospice nurse to monitor Bill's condition. 

Bill will stay on hospice this time until he dies. 

I think I have reconciled myself to his death but of course I won't know exactly how I will react and deal with his passing until it happens. What I do know is that I have reacted differently to the passing of others in my life in different ways. None of them have been the same. In fact I've been surprised that I didn't have much reaction at all when some of my friends and family died. Of course I was sad but not devastated as I expected. I'm pretty sure with Bill's passing my reaction will be different. 

Already I'm reacting differently to situations now that I would have in the past. Just this morning I received a very hurtful text from a longtime so called friend about another totally different subject. In the past I would call him out on his arrogance and stupidity and ignorance but this time? I'm letting it go. I just don't have the energy for that kind of vitriol now. I did spout off a bit on my weekly Zoom call this morning with three other friends who know this individual. They let me spout off and made no comment and moved on with our regular weekly conversations, which was probably best. Folks, knowing that I'm about to lose the love of my life puts all other things in their proper perspective. I've known this guy all my life and I've always known he's like this. I think of what Maya Angelo said "When someone shows you who they are, believe them." Indeed. So instead of responding my usual way I will not respond at all but I am letting that friendship go. And if I do hear from him again, and if I do have a response it will be two words "Sail on."

This morning I was on my Facebook Group website for former Ft. Devens, Mass Army veterans.

Me, far left in the back (tallest as I usually was with my friends) at Ft. Devens Massachusetts April 1960 during a break between classes. Yes, my camera. I am so glad I had the presence of mind to have photos taken that day. I've posted this picture many times before on my blog but I do it again for newer followers of my blog. I only wish I had taken more pictures back then.

These guys are from all years at Ft. Devens, most from the 80's on. I was there in April to October of 1960. Most if not all of the guys I was there with then are dead. I think I'm the only one left alive. Bill is not the only one fading out from life here. Right here folks, I'm fading out. But before I go I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure Bill's passage is smooth and peaceful. That folks is my purpose in life now. 

Memories Of My Fabulous Life With Bill

Me making the Big Move from my Coatesville apartment to Bill's apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey February 1965

 I do believe I am slowly adapting to the new reality of the eventuality of not having Bill in my life any more. 

Today was another day he slept most of the day. He's sleeping now. I put him to bed (his recliner chair) abut a half an hour ago. As he rested his head back on his chair he said "Off to Dreamland" and sighed.

There is a noticeable difference this time from his return from a hospital stay. Even though he can walk, he would prefer not to go up and down the stairs to his basement bathroom as often as he did before his latest hospital stay. He has a glass jar that he uses to pee in when we return from our rides or when he gets up from his recliner chair in our sunroom. This is because he is weaker physically. In the past I would have complained but not now, if that is what works for him, so be it. After he pees in the glass jar he pours it out on the macadam entrance to our garage. I rinse it off with clear water when he's done.

I think we're managing his swallowing problem. He so likes his oatmeal and doesn't want to give it up. Tonight I made his oatmeal and put it in my blender and pureed the shit out of it. He liked that. He drank his oatmeal from the bowl and didn't choke once. 

For lunch, instead of his usual vanilla Ensure, I bought him some spiced pumpkin soup. It was pureed. I gave him a tablespoon full but he said "It's OK." That means he doesn't like it so I ate the rest of it. It was delicious. I will go back to Food Lion tomorrow to clean them out. At $2.99 a container (special sale) it's not only a great bargain but cheap.

I had a lot of time to think today because Bill is sleeping so much that we don't talk as much as we used too. I came to realize that he's slowly been dying the past several years. If he does die before me I shouldn't be all that shocked because the Bill I've known all these years began "leaving" me several years ago. 

Bill was always a presence and I mean that in the nicest way. He was always working on some project.  We had a good partnership. I ran the household and he did all the butch stuff like fixing the plumbing, building a stone wall around the three beautiful River Birch Trees that I planted to shade my bedroom in the summer and provide passive solar warmth in the winter when the leaves of that beautiful tree shed. Bill was always the driver in our family. In fact when I met Bill I didn't drive. I met him when I was 22 years old. I didn't get my own car until we move out of center city Philadelphia in 1980 and I was 40 years old. Bill always mowed the grass here. I did the cooking, managed our household finances and interacted with anyone who was necessary to interact with to keep us living. I made the appointments. I talked to the service people. Bill always stayed in the background. That was his preference and I didn't mine doing what I have done these past fifty-nine years we've been together. I'm the manager, Bill is the handyman (and a good one at that). We had a very nice arrangement, often the envy of some of our other gay friends who had a more lopsided arrangement.  I remember our friends Bob and Jim (both now long gone). They always made a big deal of splitting all the bills down the middle even to the penny. That's something I never got. At the end of the month Bob and Jim would sit at their dining room table and spread the household bills out and do the calculation, always to the penny. When they would go out to eat at a restaurant again, they would ask for one bill and then split it after figuring out how much each one owed. 

Yes, Bill and I had a good arrangement until a few years ago. Then after his strokes and Bill came home I noticed that he was diminished.  Like 80% of what he was once before. He was still concerned with trivial things like what are the neighbors doing (we both love gossiping about the neighbors) but realized he couldn't do his projects anymore. But he still held onto his tools. Lots of tools, you wouldn't believe. However, these past few months he started going through all his tools, electrical equipment (loads of transistors) and throwing them away. Even though he can't see, he managed. His strength always amazes me. Even now, as weakened as he is after this latest bout in the hospital, he is still walking, bless his heart. I don't think I could manage if he was totally bed ridden. 

We're both hoping that he passes peacefully in his sleep. He doesn't want to go and I don't want him to go but we both realize this is inevitable and it is best he goes before I go. We often joked that we could go together but "that would hurt too much" whichever way he decided. Of course we were never serious about that suggestion but if we were in an automobile accident and both died at the same time that would be "perfect." But we both realized that eventually one of us would be left and that person would suffer pain that is almost impossible to imagine. 

The closest I came to this kind of pain of a loved one was when my Mother died. She was 87 years old and in declining health for several years. My brothers and I expected her death and she died it was more like a relief because she didn't want to go into a nursing home and we promised we wouldn't put her in a nursing home. It was close (she was living with my youngest brother and his wife at the time, the same brother who died this past year and his widow is suffering the same measurable loss now that I am facing with Bill). when John (my brother) called me to say "Mom died last night", it was a shock to my system but I survived. Of course I miss her terribly and to this day, even though she died thirteen years ago, would like to call her and chat. She not only was my Mother but my best friend for many years. I was her favorite just as my youngest brother John was my father's favorite. Our poor middle brother Isaac, who now lives alone with his cat at the family house, was the classic middle child. Of course my Mother loved him too but he to this day says "You were Mom's favorite." 

Bill (center in the shadows) with my father and my Mother at their house (garage). Both my parents loved Bill. Bill was only four years younger than my Mother, who he was great friends with. He was probably more devastated when she died than I was. After she was buried he stayed at her freshly dug grave for hours saying goodbye. Maybe he will soon be reunited with her and I can see both of them again if there is a Heaven. 

With Bill, he came into my life when I was at a crossroads. I had just gotten out of the Army after a three year enlistment. I was living in a furnished apartment in Coatesville, earning less money than I did when I was honorably discharged from the Army. I was hoping to meet my Prince Charming and live happily ever after. I met Bill, who at that time I didn't consider my Prince Charming because he wasn't "my type" physically or emotionally but he was good looking, butch (I'm not attracted to femme gay guys, which was a dilemma for me when I was young, I'm gay but not sexually attracted to most of the gay guys I met). When I moved in with Bill it was more of a mutual convenience for both of us (I watched his apartment while he went on extended monthly work assignments with RCA and later GE). We had an "understanding" that I could still go out and he could too. And I did. Lots of times. All those affairs always turned out bad. And when it did, there was Bill, my rock. Always supportive of me no matter what my foolishness. Anyone else would have given up on me and tossed me aside. Not Bill. Always there for me, even consoling me a few times when I was inconsolable after one of those breakups. He was never angry. Several times I offered to leave me he didn't want me to. He always knew that no one else would ever love me like he did. And over time I came to realize that I loved him just as much. 

What a wonderful life we have had together these past almost fifty-nine years. Just how lucky I have been although Bill often corrects me and tells me he was the lucky one. Before he went into the hospital this time, when we were doing one of our daily drives, he would often recount how we met. Regular followers of this blog know that story but I'll repeat it for the newer followers. 

Once a month or so I used to visit the Westbury Bar at 15th and Spruce Streets in Center City, Philadelphia with my friends Ron Hampton (an old Army buddy) and Ed Cage (a friend from high school). I only went once a month because that's all I could afford to "go in town." Ron or Ed would drive. We all lived in the western suburbs of Philly. 

Bill with my longtime friend Ron Hampton (who died in 2005) at Atlantic City, New  Jersey 1975

When we went into the bar, usually about eleven o'clock Saturday night, we would station ourselves a the same location always. Way in back to the left right before the Men's and Ladies rooms, near where the bartender could flip up that part of the bar to leave. 

Ron and Ed would sit on stools but I always stood. One Saturday night Jerry the bartender (who I found out later was a good friend of Bill's) brought a drink (gin and tonic, my usual which I paid 75 cents for with a 25 sent tip, dollar total big tipper that I was). We three gave Jerry a puzzling look (by the way, we all thought Jerry was a hottie) and he handed the drink to me and nodded to a smiling man at the other end of the near the Skeet machine which was located near the doorway entrance to the Westbury. Jerry said "This drink is on him." I was a bit surprised because I had seen that man before loudly playing Skeet with his friends, whopping it up big time every time one of them got a good score. The first thing I thought, was "This guy thinks he going to pick up me up just like that? Sorry." Of course I wasn't interested. Even though Bill was very handsome and popular at that time he wasn't "my type." He was six feet tall and too handsome. I usually preferred a more nerdy, bespectacled small guy. I certainly wasn't going to be another "notch on the holster" of one of the most popular guys in the bar who could have almost anybody he wanted. I told this to my friend Ron and Ed and we all laughed. Ron and Ed were interested in meeting Bill but they knew me and I wasn't "easy." I think Ron and Ed would go with just about anybody, and over they years I was proven right but that's them. I considered myself more discerning. I was looking for a relationship, not a quickie one night sexual encounter. 

Over the next three months or so whenever we three were in the bar at the same time Bill would send a complimentary drink over to me. It got to be a joke with the three of us because there was NO WAY I was going home with him now. Ron and Ed would say "There he goes again. I wish he would send a drink to me."

Then there came that fateful rainy summer evening night of July 3, 1964. I again came in with Ron and Ed but they left the bar to check out some of the other local gay bars. I was alone. And again, that gin and tonic complimentary drink made it's way over to my side of the bar. I looked again across the bar and there he (Bill) was, alone this time. Again he nodded and smiled. Well, by now I felt a little bit guilty for all the drinks he had sent to this cash poor 22 year old gay guy looking in vain for his 5'9", 140 pound bespectacled Prince Charming. I thought the least I could do was go over and thank him for all the drinks because after all I am a nice guy under this sometimes gruff exterior (I'm actually very shaky most of time under this exterior even to this day, notice what I'm sharing with you now). As I rounded the bar the only thing I intended to do was thank him for all the drinks and go back to my usual spot at the corner of the bar. As I said before, Bill was alone this time, no Skeet ball machine whooping it up with his friends. He was sitting at one of those little round tables that the gay bars used to have like a night club back in those days of the early Sixties. I walked over to him at the table where he was sitting by himself and said "Thank you for the drinks." I had planned a quick exit because I expected him to be an aggressive ogre thinking I "owed" him at least one night in bed because of all he drinks. But he wasn't like that at all. In fact when he said "You're welcome" and smiled, he said nothing immediately. He just smiled. Then he said "Where are your friends?" I don't remember exactly what I told him, probably "They went to the Allegro" which was another gay bar across the street from the Westbury. What I do remember clearly was his deep masculine voice, his kind eyes, and his non aggressive manner. I hate aggressive people, especially aggressive gay people coming on to me for sex. Total turnoff for me. 

Thus we began conversing with one another. I think he asked me if I would like to sit. I know I did. Thus began to know Bill Kelly. He struck me as being a very nice guy. Again, "not my type" (don't you hate that expression) but a man. A good-looking, masculine man who liked me. What's not to like? I went home with him that night and for the next six months he would travel from his apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey to Coatesville, Pennsylvania, fifty-one miles away across the Ben Franklin Bridge, through Philadelphia via the Schuylkill Expressway to pick me up at my Coatesville apartment and drive me back to his apartment at Penn Manor in Pennsauken New Jersey. 

Every week end. He may have missed one or two but I know it was a lot of driving for him. Who else would do that for me? I'll tell you, NO ONE. 

I had a job in Coatesville but wanted a job in center city Philadelphia. My friend Ron Hampton worked at Girard Bank right smack dab in center city Philly. Bill wanted me to move in with him. I didn't want to because I told him I was still going to go to the bars. He told me "A caged bird never sings. I don't mind if you go to the bars, just be discreet." I still didn't want to move in with him because I didn't think it would be fair to him but I did want to get a job in Philadelphia and out of the small town of Coatesville. I had enough of small town life and always wanted to live in a big city. Bill said I could move in with him at his apartment and it would also be beneficial to him because when he left on his projects sometimes he was gone as long as three months. I still didn't want to move in with him, I wanted my own place. I didn't want clamps on me. I already had two previous relationships (Jim G. and Bob S.) that didn't work out. I didn't want to go through that again. But Bill insisted, so much that for the first time he because angry with me and threatened to end our relationship unless I moved in with him.  Well, at that time of my life (twenty-two years old) I was pretty stupid but (thank God) I wasn't that stupid. Here was this MAN who really liked me giving me all the freedom I wanted and to live with him rent free. I didn't want to end this relationship. I consented and one sunny day (I think I have a picture of that move, my friend Ed drove me over with my houseplant and my few belongings to Pennsauken) I moved to New Jersey to began a new chapter in my life. Coincidentally Bill had already left on a new assignment for RCA so I moved in his apartment when he wasn't there. And thus began my life with this man I've lived with for the past fifty-nine years. He wasn't even there when I moved in!

Me at Bill's apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey 1964 Bill built that Japanese screen, influenced by his stay in Japan with the American occupation forces after World War II - Bill was in the Air Force at that time. Before that he was in the Army and stationed in Germany during the occupation forces. He had a break in service to leave to take care of his mother when his step-father died and she had no means of support. That's Bill, always caring for someone else. He has spent his entire life since I met him caring for me that why I have no problem caregiving for Bill now. My goal is to make him as comfortable as possible before he leaves this life.

Now when we talk about our first meeting Bill tells me his side of the story. He said the first time he sent a drink over to me he told his friends "I'm going to get that one!" I tell him know "If I had ever known that I would never have went over and thank you for all the drinks you sent to me!" We laugh about it now but THAT's what he told his friends! Can you imagine the arrogance? But he said "I could have anybody I wanted in that bar and when I first saw you standing at the corner of the bar across the way I knew I wanted you. You were The One." "I asked Jerry (the bartender) who is that?" Jerry said he didn't know but that we usually came in once a month (which we did, it was all I could afford) and we were usually together. When Bill first asked Jerry to send a drink over to me Jerry said "Which one". Bill said "That tall good-looking one."

The rest is history folks. I have a picture that Bill took of me and Jerry the bartender when he visited us after I moved into Bill's apartment in Pennsauken the photo here:  (yes, that's a cigarette in my hand, I stopped smoking July 10, 1967 my pack a day Marlboro flip top box cigarettes)

Me and Jerry the bartender at Bill's apartment in Pennsauken, NJ 1965

. Looking at that picture makes me so sad because I think of all that has gone on since that time I moved in with Bill. All the ups and downs. The laughter, and the fights (oh yes, we have had some doozies". The stupid entanglements that I got in that almost ruined my life more than once. I still remember them all very clearly and Bill saw that what I couldn't see at those times. He's told me many times he knew those affairs wouldn't work out because no one would ever love me more than he loves me, something he still says even to this day in his weakened and greatly diminished state. Bill may be failing physically but his love is as strong if not stronger that it ever was. Just tonight as I put him to bed in his Archie Bunker chair in his basement bedroom and kissed him on his forehead, he said "I love you so much Potts (his embarrassing pet name for me which I'm revealing now, a shortened form of "Sweetie Pie"). Thank you for all you do for me." Now the tears come to my eyes as I type this because I know, I know Bill is leaving me. Alone. I will be alone again. 

I am thankful that when he does leave he will not suffer the pain of my loss, nor will he suffer any more his physical limitations of the past few years. Losing his eyesight was perhaps the greatest loss. When I look into his eyes now all I see is an emptiness. All he sees is my shadow. He has peripheral vision, he cannot see out the center of his eyes. 

When Bill goes, he will be at peace. If there is a Heaven he will be reunited with his Mother who died much too young at fifty-four years of age of a brain aneurism. He never even had a chance to say goodbye to her. His father, who he never knew, died in a drunk driving accident with several of his buddies after they ran into a bridge abutment in Toccoa Georgia where they lived. His father was only twenty-one years old. He left behind a widow and three children, Bill and this two older sisters. Bill was only one year old.

Bill with his mom and two older sisters and new half brother Jimmy Brown, Jimmy's nephew sent us this picture before he died a few years ago. This is the only picture I have of Bill as a child. He's a cuties, right!

His mother married again to a man who was very cruel to Bill. Bill did not have a good childhood. He said his step-father was an alcoholic who often came home drunk. In later life Bill's family disowned him (this happened a year before I met Bill) when they found out he was gay. Bill often talked about at how at his mother's funeral one of his sisters confronted him by pointing a finger at him and said in front of every one else at the funeral gathering "We know all about you! You should be ashamed of yourself!" Up until a few weeks ago Bill again related that story to me. He was very hurt and embarrassed. He left and never had contract with his family again. A few years ago one of his nephews found us and got in touch with us. Unfortunately he died suddenly and we never got to meet him. Then two years ago one of his favorite nieces found me though my blog and called the hotel to get my phone number and got in touch with me. She wanted to know how "Uncle Buddy" (as Bill was know in his childhood,"Buddy Kelly") was doing. We've been in touch occasionally since. Bill gave her all his old family pictures after the horrible confrontation at his mother's funeral. Even then Bill showed what a decent person her is, wanting someone in the family to have the Kelly and Brown (his mother's maiden name) family pictures. 

I haven't talked to his niece for a few months. I didn't tell her of Bill's latest medical emergency. Maybe she will read this blog. Of course things are different now. Bill would no longer be consider the pariah of his family because he is gay. The times I have talked to her she has been so kind. She even sent us a homemade quilt and an afghan. Both very nice and very kind of her and her mother to do so. She is the daughter of Bill's now deceased half brother Jimmy Brown, who Bill was good friends with while he was growing up in his blended family. He had another half brother but he wasn't close with him.

I'm giving a lot of detail in this blog. I'm wondering why and I think it's because I need to do something for make a permanent record of this great love affair I've had my whole adult life. Also to get my mind off, even if it is only temporally, who what I'm about to endure, the greatest loss of my lifetime. 

God bless you Bill and if there is a Heaven save a place for me so we can be reunited again. 

I love you Bill.

Me and the man I love, July 2010 Milton, Delaware

Bill Is Fading

 

Bill sleeping today in his favorite chair in our sun room

Bill has been home for a day now. He was so tired last night as was I. We both slept the Sleep of the Dead last night. 

I had more errands to run today and as usual I took Bill along with me. He loves to go for rides with me. Today I took an extra long ride. Even staying a while in the car while we were parked in the Redner's parking lot to talk to Bill while we watched the traffic go by on Route 9. Oh how I appreciate this time we get to spend together. 

This morning we were actually able to take a shower. He's still very weak but was able to walk  into the shower while I supported him. And this morning when I changed his Depends, I am reminded why I was glad to convince him to wear Depends for the last year or so. We're back to accidents now but it's no big thing. As a good friend of mine said who was a caregiver for his very ill partner for a long time said "It's only shit" and indeed it is. Just clean it up.

Bill felt so much better after his shower. I am so thankful that he can still walk even though he is much weaker. He wants to walk and I think as the days go by he will regain some of his strength. Bill is and always was a very strong man physically. 

I had to do major wound dressing this morning on his right leg.  It's still swollen but not as bad as last Friday before I took him into the Urgent Care unit. The big blister has broken and clear liquid soaks through the dressing. I change it daily although the medical information says I should change it twice a day. I'll check it tomorrow and if it is getting better, like all the other times before, I'll continue to only change his dressing daily. Otherwise I change it twice a day which makes it more difficult because he wears jeans and I have to either take his pants off or try to roll up his pant leg which is hard to do because his leg is so swollen.

Even though my Bill is home now I notice some subtle changes. He sleeps most of the day. Thank God he knows who I am and is aware but he does sleep almost all of the time. And he's not eating as much. He used to go through a whole pack of lemon cookies but he hasn't touched them since he came home. And the other cookies that I make and buy for him, he hasn't touched at all. This time last year I had to make the Viennese Crescent shortbread cookies at least every week or less. This last batch I made several weeks ago is still in the cookie tin. He has lost his appetite for everything except his twice a day oatmeal ("which extra sugar" he always reminds me). 

He's peeing more often in a jar or one of those hospital pee jugs because he's too weak to go downstairs to his bathroom during the day. He does go down at night although last night he stayed quite a while in his chair in the sun room. Much longer than he usually does. Same thing tonight. He loves his setup in his downstairs bedroom but I sense he's avoiding the effort to go downstairs.  But once I reminded him he did. I check in on him several times during the night, when I get up for my own pee runs as is the case with us older guys (sometimes I get up as much as four times a night). 

Bill is fading folks. I think back to what he was like three years ago before his strokes and we started on this downward path. He was all over the place. Full of life, energy, opinions, and spunk. Even last year, once he started to recover from his strokes he had more energy than he does now. It's almost like he running on empty. He doesn't want to leave me, or leave me alone in the world. And truth be told, I don't want him to leave me. Today in the car when we were parked in the Redner's parking lot looking at the traffic on Rt. 9 go by, he told me again that if I went first he would end his own life. My God folks, I'm so thankful that I'm not sick because it would be unbearable for me to think I would leave Bill alone in the world. 

During our fifty-nine years together I guess most of that time we always assumed we would always be together even during and after my "forays" and even one "foray" Bill had with his friend Damon (strictly platonical) with the twelve kids and wife until Damon's wife found out and ended that friendship. She's probably reading this blog now and I don't care. She was very cruel to Bill doing what she did. Their kids loved Bill. And as I said the relationship was not physical but I committed the cardinal sin by being openly gay and in her conservative religious world I am damn. Do I care? Not for myself but for Bill because he was truly happy during those times he visited Damon. End of this train of thought, it's depressing me.

Back to Bill's slow fade, I can see it so clearly now. 

I know so many people who have suffered the loss of their longtime partner or spouse, the latest being my sister-in-law when my youngest brother died this past September. I talked to her on FaceTime the night before last. So sad. Several gay couples I know here in the Rehoboth Beach area, their spouses have recently died. The suffering they must have endured to lose their longtime partners. I sense my time is coming. I hope I can hold up as well as they seem to be doing. I don't know if I mentioned this before but it bears mentioning again, as my friend Ur-Spo told me in a recent text message:  "There is nothing to alleviate this sort of sorrow. It is the price we pay for loving someone."

I'll end this depressing post with what my friend Jon of Lone Wolf Concerto said in a comment on my recent blog post:

"Time doesn't heal all wounds, it only obscures them."

Time does heal physical wounds but not emotional wounds. 

I see it coming folks. And it scares the hell out of me.

Bill's Home

 

Bill leaving the hospital today

Bill is home from the hospital. 

I picked him up at 4:30 this afternoon, in the sun glare of a late winter afternoon. 

Even though Bill went in for a massive blood clot in his right leg, they were very concerned with his swallowing difficulties. I will just have to manage his food preparation better in the future. One of the options was a feeding tube in his stomach. We're not going to do that just like we're not going to a rehab facility. Someone from Medicare will come by the house in the next few days.

Bill is weak and has to regain his strength. We've been through this before when he had his two strokes almost two years to the day (January 12th and 14th, 2021). We'll do it again.

Today started out horribly. I couldn't get my iPhone on! Every night before I go to bed I put it on a charger. I didn't drop it or do anything else unusual to the phone. But this morning I couldn't get it on. I was starting to panic because the hospital calls me on that phone. And Bill goes berserk if they can't get hold of me. He thinks I'm in an accident or worse. 

I couldn't call Apple because I have to use my phone to call Apple support. I would have to use my neighbor's phone but I know he doesn't get up until around ten o'clock. I didn't want to wake him. And to top everything else off, I had a dental appointment (cleaning and examination) at  11 AM. I had to do some quick thinking. I decided to go down to the hospital and visit in person and tell Bill's nurse my phone was out. Then by the time I got back my neighbor was up. I asked to borrow his phone (what would we do without one another?) and he readily agreed. I called Apple support and they showed me how to reboot my phone. I was doing it wrong. Up volume button, down volume button then hold the power switch in for about thirty seconds until you see the Apple logo. I read on the Internet that you only pressed the volume button down. WRONG. 

Relieved that I got the phone working I headed off to my dental appointment. Of course I forgot my extra partials and had to come back to get them. I just made my dental appointment on time. And my dental hygienist was very gentle. My mouth didn't feel like razor blades whip sawed through it for once after a teeth cleaning.

Back home for a quick lunch and a call from the hospital telling me my options. After lunch while I was brushing my teeth, another call from the hospital with more options including one taking Bill home today. I'll take it!

I'm so glad to have him home even though he is still a bit confused. But he knows he's home and he knows me. I had several intense sad moments today driving around without Bill riding shotgun in our car. At Royal Farms I had to lock my car after getting gas and going in to order my usual of eight biscuits to go. Will Bill as my wingman I don't worry about anybody stealing my car from the gas pump.

I did a lot of riding today without Bill in that passenger seat. When I got emotional was trying to imagine the rest of my life without Bill. I just can't do it folks. I talked to my neighbor (the one whose phone I borrowed) and asked him if the loss gets any better. He lost his wife almost three years ago (January 26th.) He said "No, but you learn to accept it." I don't know folks. It is going to be tough. But for now, Bill's home where he belongs. We're together again.

Bill is home in his favorite chair

Bill Didn't Come Home Today

Me and Bill today in his new hospital room. He's still smiling, bless his heart. He wasn't mad at me today.

 I went to the hospital early this morning.

I spent all day by Bill's bedside, hoping to bring him home today. It was not to be. 

His doctor came by at noon and took a look at his leg and was pleased with the progress. Bill's leg still looks horrible but not as bad as it did when he went into the emergency room last Friday. 

Bill's doctor said Bill could go home as far as he was concerned but there was nothing on Bill's chart for him to go home today. I stayed anyway. It was my understanding that Bill has to get the approval of the physical therapist that he could walk. Also there was the paperwork for discharge. None of that was done today.

A nutritionist came by and gave me information on how to feed Bill with his swallowing problem. That was very helpful and I will make use of the four pages of paperwork she provided for meal preparation.

I didn't want to both the nurses at the nurses' station but did ask a couple of times when the physical therapist would be by. I realize she has other patients to attend to plus this was also Sunday. I didn't know if the staff was less on weekends. Probably. A physical therapist did come by to the new room where Bill was moved to, but she was there for Bill's roommate who had under went a colon surgery. His wife was with him almost as long as I was with Bill. She left at around 2 PM. I stayed until quarter after four but I wanted to get home before it got dark. Even with my cataract surgery I'm not comfortable driving in the dark of night. And I wanted to stop by the nearby supermarket to pick up the new dietary items for Bill when he does come home.

I told Bill I would be back tomorrow. I have a dental appointment at 11 AM. 

I brought Bill's clothes that he had on when he went into the emergency room home with me. I'm taking fresh clothes back with me tomorrow. I also brought home his hearing aids, the batteries were drained. I'm charging them up now and will bring them with me tomorrow to Bill. Hopefully I won't forget.

I won't sit with Bill all day tomorrow like I did today. I hadn't had lunch today nor my regular afternoon nap. I am a creature of habit. My schedule is all knock askew. But I am glad I can be with Bill. I want him home as much as he wants to come home. 

Being with him today I get the sense that he is slowly fading. He doesn't want to die because he doesn't want to leave me. He still feels protective towards me and as he has for the past 58 and a half years. But he is so tired and has often said "I'm tired of living." He's in a conundrum. We wants to leave but he doesn't want to leave. I've told him so often "It's all right Bill, I can take care of myself."  But you know folks, coming home to this house that is so empty without Bill in it, I get a sickening feeling in my stomach. Can I handle his loss? So many others have lost loved ones with whom they've been together for many years. Just this past summer my younger brother died after a long illness. I talked to his wife on FaceTime tonight and she's still processing his loss. She is heartbroken. They had been married for sixty years. John did everything for her. She is lost without him. "My John" as she calls him. My heart breaks for her. If and when I lose Bill I know my loss won't be greater than hers or millions of other people who have lost their "other half" after being together many years. My whole adult life I've been with Bill, my Rock of Gibralter. Bill, probably the only person in the world who would put up with my whims, fancies, foolishness and absurdities. I'm not an easy person to live with but Bill thought I was worth living with and never gave up on me. Few people are fortunate enough to have that kind of love. People richer than me and more famous and talented and unlucky in love. Me? I'm not one of them. I've always had Bill. But now that I contemplate losing him I find it had to imagine a life without him. The almost overpowering sadness is creeping in around the edges of my life now. Little things around the house are reminding me of our previous life when he has hearty, hale and healthy. The past two years have been a slow decline. Bill isn't the same person I met almost fifty-nine years ago but his essence is still there. 

He's fading out folks and I'm about to face the biggest challenge of my life. 

Bill Still In Hospital

 

Bill's blood clot clogged leg

Bill is still in the hospital. 

Hopefully he will be able to come home tomorrow. 

He wants to come home so badly.

He's confused. When he's in the hospital like this he sometimes thinks he is at home. I visited him twice today. This morning at around ten o'clock. I left shortly before lunch. I told him I would be back this afternoon which I did. When I went into his room he was very mad at me. He wanted to leave and wanted to know where I went. I told him I went home like I told him. He didn't remember. Then he said "Something is going on. Why can't I go home now?"

I tried to calm him down. I could see where this was going. He was going to be obstreperous with me and the hospital staff like he was at the rehab facility a couple years ago when he was released from the ICU unit of Thomas Jefferson University Hospital in Philadelphia. One time I visited him at the rehab facility he was so drugged up he could hardly stand or talk. I don't want to go down that road again.

I apologized to the nurses around his station and then went back in to try and calm him down. I think I made some progress but I still couldn't bring him home today, although I would love too. But he had an intravenous in his arm with Heperian (blood thinner). At least they took off feeding him intravenously. He also has trouble swallowing and they want to check that. He can only eat a liquid diet and oatmeal with I ground to a fine powder. He won't eat the hospital food. 

The nurse practitioner told me that he has blood clots in his lungs and still some in his leg. Bill will be on blood thinners the rest of his life. He'll always be cold (here we go again). He has these land mines (blood clots) in his lungs which could result in a stroke at any time. 

Right now I just want to get him home. I miss him so much. Even though it is very stressful being a full-time caregiver, I would rather have Bill here at home with me where he feels safe and comfortable. We all have an END. I hope and pray when Bill's time comes, he can be at home with me.

Bill's Emergency Room Visit

Bill waiting for his vascular surgery early this evening

 Bill is in the hospital tonight. 

Earlier this evening he had emergency vascular surgery to remove massive blood clots from his right leg.

Two nights ago Bill woke up to a tremendous pain in his right leg. I noticed the next morning his right leg was swollen. I decided to monitor it. This morning it was worse, much worse. I called the VA to get authorization to go to the Urgent Care unit in Lewes. They took one look at his leg and told me he had to go to the Emergency Room right away. They took us right away. 

We spent all day in the Emergency Room. I ate the hospital food (I was famished) because Bill couldn't. He has trouble swallowing. They said they could do the surgery tonight which we both agreed to.

I left Bill and the hospital and returned to our darkened home. It's always so empty when Bill isn't here. As much as I complain about being a full-time caregiver without a break (two years tomorrow) I sorely miss Bill when he isn't here. It breaks my heart to leave him all alone in the hospital. He depends so much on me not only for care but for emotional support. I know he will spend a sleepless night tonight but he will be home tomorrow. 

 

Sick Day

 Yesterday was a sick day for me. 

Ever wonder what a stay at home full time caregiver does when he (or she) is sick? 

Do they take a day off? 

Call into work and tell the boss they can't come in because they're sick? 

What we do here at Casa Tipton-Kelly is spend most of the day in bed.

My "illness" was the usual runny nose. I don't know what causes it. Could be allergies. Usually I can catch it in time by taking my allergy pills. Yesterday that didn't work. 

After I got up in the morning and got Bill up and gave him is medications and breakfast I went right back to bed with my runny nose and achy body.

I drifted in and out of sleep until lunchtime. I wasn't too hungry, a sure sign that I was sick. Usually my appetite is very good. Yesterday was chicken soup day and boy did that soup ever taste good. My body said "Thank you! Thank you!" when I finished that can of Progresso Chicken Noodle soup. I was going to make my cabbage veggie hamburger soup but I just didn't have the energy to peel all those veggies. That soup is easy to make once you slice up the onion and prepare the carrots and celery. I'll make that soup today with my exclusive Tipton Potato Salad (I make the absolute best potato salad!)

Usually when I lie down when I get these runny nose attacks, my nose straightens itself out. Not yesterday. All day my nose drainage became progressively worse. After lunch I went to bed again. Didn't wake up until 5 PM. Time to feed Bill and give him his medications again. 

After putting Bill to bed I went into my cozy home office and called my friend Don McK. on FaceTime.  Still my nose was running like an open spigot. No getting away from it. I FaceTimed Pat and told him I was going to bed early, which I did. I didn't even have my usual evening snack. No appetite for it. 

I went to bed around 10:30. Usually I don't go to bed until twelve or one o'clock. Early to bed last time and late getting up this morning to give Bill his every third day shower. And my nose isn't running now.

Time to make some Tipton Potato Salad and Hamburger Cabbage soup. 

Have a great day everyone!

"Bros"

Finally, FINALLY, I found a good gay movie!

The name of the movie is "Bros" and I saw it last night on my Netflix DVD rental.

Oh, not that there hasn't been some excellent gay themed movies ("Brokeback Mountain", "Boys In The Band") but they all ended badly. Spoiler alert!

This one doesn't end badly. The gay characters don't kill themselves or get killed in the end. How refreshing! Even more refreshing this is actually a well written and well acted movie about gays.

Believe it or not straight folks, most gays aren't like the folks you've seen in "Will and Grace" episodes. "Jack" isn't your typical gay guy although he is funny (at times, his Cher impression is fantastic). But so often gay themed movies are played by straight actors. What's up with that? Are there no gay actors? Well we KNOW the answer to that question. Of course there are many gay actors, many still in the closet but the way our culture is now is that if an actor is gay most of the movie going public will not accept him (or her) in a straight role. Sad but true. The brutal truth, homophobia still reigns in the land.

Back to this movie. It has been SO LONG since I've laughed out loud at a scene in a movie and believe me folks, there are plenty of scenes in this movie to get you laughing. And for my gay followers, this is one of those rare movies that UNDERSTANDS US. You know what I mean. It's obvious it was written by gays and acted by gays. Here's a fact for my straight friends, nobody can laugh more at our (gay) foibles than gays ourselves. And this movie GETS it! 

There are also some sweet tender moments in this movie as there should be in any ROM-COM movie.

Me (tall, slim guy far right with head turned) in Provincetown with my friends Gino and Bob circa 1979 - those were the days!

Another thing I liked about this movie is when they went to my favorite gay resort Provincetown, Mass. I was prepared to see scenes Toronto Canada. I remember how disappointed I was when I first saw that long ago "breakthrough" gay TV series "Queer As Folk". It was supposed to take place in Pittsburgh, PA, a city where I came out in the winter of 1963. Pittsburgh's downtown of Grant Avenue, Fifth Avenue, and Forbes Avenue isn't big. I worked at the Pittsburgh Hilton Hotel right on the Golden Triangle in the heart of downtown Pittsburgh. Try to imagine my immense disappointment when I couldn't recognize even one street scene of "Pittsburgh" in "Queer As Folk". I did some checking and sure enough, the series was filmed in, wait for it, TORONTO, CANADA! Thus it was with great pleasure when the story of "Bros" shifted to Provincetown, they actually filmed there! Downtown Provincetown isn't that big either and I actually recognized every scene, including the place where I used to stay in the summer of the Fabulous Seventies. 

And one more thing I liked about this movie that didn't insult my intelligence like most movies and almost all of the lame gay movies I've seen over the years, was the sex scenes weren't gross. No swapping spit, sweaty limbs, grunts and groans. The only nipples you're going to see in this movie are men's nipples and after all folks, especially my gay friends, wasn't that our little secret all these years that the media never hid men's nipples? They don't in this movie either but they manage all the intimate scenes tastefully. 

And of course there is an overall message in this movie. BE YOURSELF! Some may like you, some may not. SO WHAT! Just be yourself and who knows, you may find someone you likes you just as you are even if you aren't the mythical "California Blonde Swimmer", a fact which I never understood. The California Blonde Swimmer type never did anything for me. Troy Donahue? What was THAT all about? Rock Hudson didn't even turn me on and that was before he came out. Sure, he was very handsome. I saw that. Just like I could look at a beautiful woman but to arouse my hormones? Never worked. I like to get to know the guy I'm with. Of course looks comes into it but the personalty is Number One. I have to click with that personality. Lucky for me I found someone after all these years. We click.

After seeing a movie like this I've often thought my life could be made into a movie. Of course it would fail at the box office like this movie did. Yes, this movie failed at the box office even though is was rated in the 90% category by both critics and the audience who saw it. Let's face it folks. Not every movie can be about car chases and violence for thirteen year old boys. I find those movie very boring. Pat likes them though. I much prefer "Downton Abbey". Pat doesn't like "Downtown Abbey". He says it's boring "looking for Lady Mary's teapot." I get it Pat. 

So if you want a good old fashion ROM-COM movie with genuine laughs and a few tender moments and a worthwhile message and an intelligent script and well acted, this movie is for you. Granted there are no "bankable" stars in this movie but I think you'll find the all the characters likable and most of all believable. 

Enjoy!

Me in Provincetown 1979