Rick Santorum: "I have gay friends"

All right friends and family, the time has come to address the real possibility of former Pennsylvania senator Rick Santorum that he may be the Republican candidate for president or vice-president.

You all know "nice guy" Rick don't you?  Senator "Man on Beast" when referring to gay marriage?

Here is an interview Rick gave on Fox News recently addressing his "gay problem".

Listen carefully Rick's responses.  You might have to replay them.  Below I've pulled out some of the quotes from the interview:

Megan began the interview calling Rick "compassionate and caring."  Are you kidding?

Rick states:  "I have friends who are gay and I accept them as they are..."

This falls under the same condescending remarks some whites used to make justifying their racial prejudice during the Civil Right era: "Some of my best friends are black....but..."

Rick states that he doesn't like anybody because of their sexual orientation:

"I don't dislike anybody because of their sexual orientation.  I respect their...that decision."  

Excuse me?  I don't remember making a decision to be gay.

Rick states that he is against same sex marriage because "it is destructive to the family."  

How so Rick?  Specifics please.

He also states:  "I want the ability to proclaim the Truth as God laid it out in the bible."

Again, excuse me?  Exactly where in the bible does it say "one man, one woman?"  

Rick goes on to say that traditional marriage between a man and a woman "is in the best interest of society."  

So, are we saying that a family consisting of two moms or a family consisting of two dads isn't in the best interest of society?  What should we do with those families Rick?  Disband them.  Put the two moms and two dads in jail.

Remember this folks, if Rick Santorum is elected president of vice president this country will have taken a
GIANT STEP BACKWARDS.  Here are just a few items that "compassionate and caring" Rick Santorum would put into place:

• Repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell"
• Making a woman's right to choose a criminal offense
• End of Social Security
• End of Medicare

That folks is just a few of the time items on "compassionate and caring" Rick Santorum's agenda.

Romney and Gingrich spout the same lines but they only do it because they know that is what will get them nominated.  They have to play to the right wing evangelical base.  Santorum is different.  He actually believes what he says.  Idealistic zealots like Santorum are the most dangerous kind of politician.

Don't be fooled by the Nice Guy Demeanor.  Nominating and electing Rick Santorum to any high office in our land is NOT IN THE BEST INTEREST OF SOCIETY.

Go home Rick and take care of your family.

By the way Rick, your concern about "what we're going to teach our children in schools."  Here is the answer to that concern of yours:  NO ONE CAN BE TAUGHT TO BE GAY.

Don't worry Rick.  And just remember, I don't hate you (well, maybe a little bit) but


I DON'T APPROVE OF YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE DESTRUCTIVE TO OUR SOCIETY.  

Rick Santorum - Homophobe

Rick Santorum is surging in the polls.

More people are starting to take Rick Santorum seriously.  Some say "He's a nice guy."

Yes, this is the same Rick "Man on Dog" Santorum who equates same sex marriage with men marrying goats..THAT Rick Santorum.

Lest anyone get too caught up in the current euphoria over "nice guy" Rick Santorum, just remember this...he is an unapologetic HOMOPHOBE.

He truly believes that if same sex couple marry and receive the same tax benefits that heterosexual couples now take for granted that those same sex couple are getting "preferential tax treatment."  


Rick Santorum is the same man who doesn't believe that same sex couple should raise children.  He believes that the only viable environment to raise children is a traditional heterosexual man-woman parents.

I could site many more examples of the twisted way this man thinks but I won't in this post.  This short video clip, taken a few days ago while Santorum was campaigning in New Hampshire, meeting with a student group, shows better than I can say the way this man thinks about equal rights for same sex couples and gays and lesbians.  He cuts off any dialogue that doesn't agree with his strident ONE WAY ONLY thinking.

This man is dangerous!  Don't let the sweater vests and the pearly teeth smile fool you.

This man is as much a bigot as if he was wearing a white sheet and carrying a flaming cross.

When Rick Santorum was in the Senate some of his fellow senators had a private joke about him.  They said "Santorum" was Latin for asshole.  They were right.

The student from the audience asks him about two men marrying. Right away Rick Santorum states "what about three men marrying?" When it is pointed out to him that that isn't the question, he cuts off the person.  It is obvious that Santorum has a one track mind.  He will not even listen to the ACTUAL question which is "WHY CAN'T TWO PEOPLE OF THE SAME SEX MARRY JUST LIKE A MAN AND A WOMAN?"  No, he has to change the questions to one of polygamy which someone in the audience rightly pointed out to him was irrelevant to the question actually being asked.  Santorum waves her off and gets back to his polygamy scenario.  Then when he sees the discussion isn't going his preconceived way, he ends the discussion.  This is why this man will never be elected president of the United States.  He DOESN'T GET IT!

Sort of reminds you doesn't it when Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad casually brushed of a reporter's questions about gays in Iran by saying "We have no homosexuals in Iran" and was puzzled when the audience laughed at his answer.

Folks, I don't see a whole lot of difference between Mahmoud and Rick, they're both bigots.

What is a Good Christian?

"Kerouac"

Hard to believe that another year has flown by.  One thing that you youngsters ("youngsters" is anyone who is younger than me) will notice as you get older that the days, weeks, months and years fly by.  Wow, I hardly got used to using "2011" and here we will be up to "2012" in less than two weeks.

One of my pet annoyances (among the many that I have) are the year end retrospectives.  I hate all that rehousing on the television stations at what happened last year.  I KNOW what happened, don't remind me.  I think the reason the cable channels and communications media does that is because most of their regular staff is off work and that material was in the can and they play it to fill up the airwaves.

Well, my stuff isn't canned.  It's fresh out of my mind right now.  Oh, by the way, the kitty pictured at the top of my blog is "Kerouac".  He is my friend Larry's cat.  Kerouac is named after the famous Fifties Beatnik (the first one) Jack Kerouac.  "Kerouac" is appropriately named.  His story is below.

I usually talk to Larry on FaceTime on the weekend at his home in Claymont Delaware.  Larry and his family have about a dozen cats they have rescued from the animal shelters and a few rescued right off the street.  Kerouac was rescued from a parking lot as a kitten nearly starved to death.  There wasn't much to Kerouac when Larry's son Darryl Yes, Larry has a son named "Darryl" as in the characters in the old Bob Newhart Show who were brothers named "Larry, Darryl and Darryl.  Larry assures me it is just a coincidence that his son is named Darryl.  Uh huh, that Larry, I've known him for over sixty years (we went to grade school together) and I think this is Larry pulling a slick one on his innocent son but be that as it may.

Feeding time at Larry's house 2003

One night maybe about a year and a half ago (if I'm wrong on the details Larry will correct me) Larry's son Darryl brought this poor, pitiful, near death kitten home, hoping to get permission to add it to the feline menage that already occupied Larry and Lois's humble abode in Claymont.  I think at that time the kitty population of their home was about two dozen kitties roaming the premises.  There was hardly room for one more but Darryl pleaded and begged and his parents consented to "just one more" (famous Last Words).  Larry and Lois finally caved in and reluctantly accepted this new scraggly member of their household.

Kerouac had some medical issue that had to be addressed and Lar and his family took care of those issues.  That's the kind of family they are, just good kind people rescuing a poor, neglected critter that few would care about otherwise.

You know, I began this post with all good intentions of writing about my wrap up at year end and here I'm writing about my friend Larry's cat.

As most of my regular readers know I write off the top of my head.  Nothing "canned" here my friends.  I'm not like those TV news stations that have canned material ready to plug up the airtime.  No sir folks,  it's all fresh here.

So this morning while I was on FaceTime with Lar, I had to leave for a few minutes and when I came back I saw this live FaceTime picture of Larry's cat Kerouac relaxing.  When Larry knew I was back he put the camera on his puss again.  I asked him to turn it back to Kerouac so I could take a picture (you can do this with FaceTime). This is the picture I took, one of God's creatures rescued from a certain death by my good friends who actually practice the Christian faith of peace and goodwill toward all, including even an emaciated and injured kitten found in a parking lot scurrying beneath parked cars just trying to survive.

You can put all the pictures of people in the paper giving each other awards for God know what and all the Rick Perry's of the world who refer to themselves as "persecuted Christians" while at the same time asking "what is the matter with this country when gays in the military are allowed to serve openly while there is a war on good Christians like him."  This is a man who go for his morning walk with his gun and brags that he shot a coyote.  Yes, we have plenty of examples of so called Good Christians but folks, this little cat to me represents what a Good Christian is.

You don't have to go to church every week to be a good Christian.  You don't have to proclaim you are a good Christian.  All you have to do is BE a good Christian and folks, this little cat named "Kerouac" is God's work.

Peace, safety, love

Rick Perry - Man of Faith

Have you seen the new Rick Perry "Man of Faith" ad?  If you haven't, take a look below:



Ah yes, another good Christian man who espouses hate against gays.  What a jerk!  Can you believe how totally stupid this a-hole is?  Here he is in his Heath Leadger "Brookback Mountain" sheepherder's jacket spewing his Christian homophobia hate against gays in the military and some imaginary "war on religion." Hey, somebody...send this Texas cow patty-kicker who is so punch drunk on his own ego that he doesn't even recognize that he is the biggest a-hole to come out of Texas since...well George W. Bush!  Even Ole "W" wouldn't be this stupid.  Ah yes, Rick Perry, the gift that keeps on giving.  I'm going to miss him when he crawls back in his hole under that rock with the "N Word" at that Texas country club he used to belong to.  Yes Rick Perry, you are a bigot.  And another thing, I have friends and family who are Christians and Rick Perry, you are no Christian.  You are a stupid, a-hole opportunist from Texas.

Check out the answer to Governor Perry's ad below.  I couldn't have said it better myself.




Below is even better:

Homophobia Alive and Well

Me at Gay March in Washingtoon D.C. October 4, 2009
Out of the closet BIGTIME

I have three blogs.


One of my blogs is this one, "Retired in Delaware".  This blog is my personal journal.


My second blog is one for my former high school class, called "Downingtown High School Class of 1959".


My third blog is for my family genealogy called "Tipton Tales and Trails."


As regular readers of this blog know my profile list me as a gay man.  When I first posted my profile I hesitated to publicize the fact that I was gay, lest that I offend some readers of my blog.  That hesitation lasted for about four seconds because I thought "This is who I am, if a reader of my blog is offended then that person is a homophobe and I do not want them reading my blog. "  

I haven't had a problem identifying myself as gay in my profile.  That changed today.  Homophobia raised its ugly head again today.  


Today I did a mass mailing of my "Tipton Tales and Trails" blog to a new mailing list that I obtained from the new president of the Tipton Family Association of America.  His name is John Parrish and he has resurrected the TFAA and started to publish a newsletter.  Ten years ago I was the TFAA editor of the newsletter.  When I published the newsletter, I did not identify myself as gay.  It wasn't necessary.


This morning I wanted to help John by publishing his newsletter to my blog.  I also included the mailing list he sent to me.  One thing I neglected to remember, was that my profile on my "Retired in Delaware" blog also appears on the profile on my "Tipton Tales and Trails" profile.  Much of the mailing list for the TFAA newsletter is in the south.  Yes folks, many of my Tipton relatives are conservative southerners. I hesitate to paint all southerns with the broad brush of gay bigotry but we all know that many of those in the South feel quite comfortable exposing their discrimination against gays.


Thus it was with some sadness that I received this response from this person who I e-mailed a link to my "Tipton Tales and Trails" blog this morning.

"Who gives a rat’s ass about your sexual preference!!! Otherwise, it’s pretty interesting."


You know folks, as long as I've been on the receiving end of this kind of hate, I never get used to it.  


I'm reminded of a quote that Charles Tipton, my predecessor as editor of the TFAA Newsletter always had in quotes on the top of each edition of his newsletter:

"You can pick your nose but you can't pick your relatives"

As regular bloggers know, your profile appears the same on all blogs that you own.  I don't have the ability to "censor" my blog on "Tipton Tales and Trails."  However, even if I did I wouldn't.  I am gay.  I think it is pathetic that some people in this day and age still feel uncomfortable when confronted with the fact that some of their fellow human beings are gay. 

Ron, out and proud Washington D.C. March, October 4, 2009

I came out of the closet in 1963 and I never intend to go back, no matter how many people I upset. In fact, I think it's time for more gays to come out like me and to make more of these gay haters expose their ignorance and bigotry.  

Me with my gay friends at the Washington D.C. March
We're all out of the closet -never to look back!

While I'm a bit upset this morning (and after a good morning too), I feel like I accomplished a lot more than I intended to today.  I exposed another bigot.  

I'm tempted to send an e-mail back but I know that won't do any good to persuade this ignorant bigot to change his views.  I've seen that movie and I know how that ends.  Unless someone in their family comes out, they will go to their grave with all that hate.  

Sad isn't it?

Bob

Forty seven years ago on a Friday in April I was in an after hours gay club called the Pennrose Club in Philadelphia, PA.  I was a young, inexperienced, 21 year old recently out of the Army after a three year stint.  I had recently moved from Pittsburgh, PA to Coatesville, PA, a suburb of Philadelphia.  I was in the club that night with friends.

I had moved to Pittsburgh right after I got out of the Army to be near a gay friend of mine that I had met in the Army.  My stay in Pittsburgh was short (three months) because I was homesick.  I had moved to Pittsburgh because I was gay and didn't want to come out at home and embarrass my family and friends.

My stay in Pittsburgh didn't work because in addition to being homesick I was intimidated by the gay scene in Pittsburgh.  It seemed like every time I went out to a bar and met a nice guy, he was trying to get me into bed with him.  I knew I was gay but I didn't think "nice gays" did things like that.  I thought all they did was kiss and cuddle.

That shows you how inexperienced I was.  I was one of those young men who knew he was "different" from a young age (in my case four years old - before I started grade school when I was five years old) but I never had a "mentor" or anyone molest me.  Since I've grown up I now hear all these stories of how young guys who were gay were either molested as small children (thus "turning them gay") or they had a friend who "showed them the ropes."  No such thing happened with this young boy, even as cute as I was at that young age.

In Pittsburgh I had a few occasions where I thought I met someone nice only to escape from their clutches once they started groping and removing my clothes.  Oh no, that wasn't for me.  Oh how innocent I was at that time.  Hard to believe now.  However, on this Saturday night at the Pennrose I was leaning against the bar with my friends when I saw this very attractive man dancing.  He was of slight build (my type) and wearing a light colored, loose fitting a suit that hung on his slim body just perfectly.

He was fast dancing, the Twist I think.  What I particularly remember about him was his beautiful smile and sparkling dark eyes.  He was obviously having a very good time dancing.  He radiated a glow about him that was infectious.  I was mesmerized by him.

Then he noticed me looking at him.  Looking in my direction,  he smiled and his black eyes had a mischievous sparkle to them.  Oh my.  My knees went weak.  I looked around.  Was he really looking at me?  Oh yes, he was.  Then the music stopped.  He walked over to me where I was leaning with my back to the bar with my friends.  Still smiling that dazzling smile of his and flashing black eyes, he asked me if I wanted to dance.  Did I want to dance?  I would say so.

He put his hand out to take my hand and led me to the dance floor.  Once we got to the dance floor he put his right hand on the small of my back and took my left hand and raised it.  This was a slow dance and he was going to lead.  Even though he was quite a bit shorter than me (5'7" to my 6'3") it felt natural for him to lead.

He pulled me in closer to him and we began to dance.  Immediately I felt something hard against my leg.  At first I thought he had something in his pocket like a screwdriver or a pack of toothpaste.  But I quickly dispelled that notion when I looked at him and his smile got even bigger.  My heart skipped a few beats when I realized that "that wasn't a gun in his pocket but instead he was glad to see me" to quote Mae West.  And, of course, I was "glad to see him too" and he noticed.  Again, that smile and mischievous sparkle in his eyes directed at me.  He had me from that moment on.

It was then I realized why dancing, especially slow dancing, was so popular.  So this is what it is all about?  All those dances I had been to in high school and in the Army and those guys were having all this fun.  Wow.  Look what I was missing!

To make a long story short, this was the man who eventually introduced me to my first gay male sexual experience.  He didn't have an easy job of it.  He had to do a lot of cajoling and convincing for me because I thought if I did "the nasty" a lightening bolt would come out of the sky and strike both of us dead on the spot.

His name was Bob. His full name was Robert D. Surina.  He was 29 years old and a recently relocated Washington state resident to the Philadelphia area.  He worked for Boeing Vertol Aircraft.  He was married and had three young children.

I remember clearly at the time thinking he was an "old man"  but that I still liked him in spite of his "advanced years."  Now that I'm 68 years old now I see how ridiculous my thought process was at that time.  Ah, the ignorance of youth.

We didn't go home together that night but he did want to see me again.  I gave him my address and phone number.  I lived in a small efficiency apartment in Coatesville, PA which was a grimy steel town 37 miles west of Philadelphia.  I believe at that time Bob lived in Upper Darby with his family.

Bob would visit me on Saturday mornings and we would spend a few hours together.  For the first month or so we only kissed and cuddled.  That's all I was comfortable with.   After a while Bob was asking to go further.  I was reluctant.  I was sure I would die if I went any "further."  Finally, one Saturday morning he convinced me to "try it."  Looking back on "it", "it" seems very tame now.  Simply put it was mutual oral sex.  What we call a Sixty-Nine.  But oh was I scared at that time.

A funny thing happened though.  Once we got into position, it felt so natural to me.  I had none of that awkwardness that I experienced when I tried (unsuccessfully) to have sex with a woman.  Those episodes were disastrous.  This experience was so natural.  I knew then that I was 100% homosexual.  No doubt about it.

Bob and I continued to see each other almost every week.  He told me that he gave his wife the excuse that he was taking his kids out for a Saturday morning excursion.  What he told me he did was to drop his kids off at a friend's house and then we went to visit me.

I should be ashamed to admit this but I felt no qualms about having sex with a married man.  If his wife couldn't hold on to him then that's her problem.  What I did have a problem with was that he was supposed to be spending time with his kids and instead he was spending it with me.  I have to admit that this guilt did gnaw at me.  Plus, as much as I liked Bob I still wanted to go out and experience life.  Bob did not want me to do that.  He wanted me as his "mistress."  I didn't want to live a life like that.  I wanted to do something different.  He was aware of my desire and tried to do something about it.

The next Saturday morning he arrived at my front door and said "Get ready!  We're going sky diving!"  What?  I asked him "Jump out of a plane?''  With a very matter of fact attitude he said "Sure, it will be safe.  There are experienced people there to show you what to do."  Oh no.  I wasn't jumping out of any airplanes.  But that was Bob, always up for an adventure.

His Saturday morning visits continued for another month until one Saturday morning when my Mother knocked at my ground level apartment door.  Bob and I were in the bedroom.  The only way out of the apartment was out the front door and that's where my Mother was, waiting for me to answer the door.  What to do?  I told Bob to go into the bathroom.  What happened next is the subject of my next blog posting.  That event changed my life forever.

Thoughts on a Cold January Morning

The sun is out, the snow is almost gone and the cold winds still blow.  I'm debating whether of not to go out to the cemetery next door to take a couple of Find a Grave.com photo requests.  Do I want that cold wind cutting through me this morning?


Bill and I didn’t go out for breakfast this morning. We’re both feeling a little bit down.

It’s the same problem. Bill doesn’t think I pay enough attention to him so he goes into a deep funk. He gets depressed. This is his usual cycle. He will come out of it.

Basically I’m a solitary person. The oldest of three boys, I was always a loner. My two younger brothers hung around together. I was always a step or two off the side. It is interesting to look at old pictures of us together. Almost always the body language says it all. They’re a pair. I’m the odd man (boy) out.


From my earliest memory I’ve always known I was “different.” “Different” is a term my cousin Lois used to describe me when she had a conversation with me last year about her son Mickey, who she also termed “different.” She was curious to know why we were “different.” By the way, for those readers who don’t understand what is meant by “different”, she mean gay. She just can’t say the word. I told my cousin that I was always “different.” She said her son said exactly the same thing. Bingo!

Yes, I’m “different.” I always have been and always will be until I take my last breath. Trying to explain what “different” is to a straight person is usually very, very difficult. Most of them can’t help but think we “different” people have made a choice somewhere along our life. When I tell them it wasn’t a choice, many of them still can’t but help to think that I really did make a choice.

What I really get annoyed about are those self righteous religious folk who say they “tolerate” my “lifestyle” (whatever that is, please someone explain THAT to me because I’m not swinging from the chandeliers.) Then they offer me an out by suggesting I ask for forgiveness (for what?) and obey and praise Jesus Christ.

I patiently explain to these people that while I respect whatever religion people chose, don’t put their religion on me. If they get comfort from their religion then I’m very happy for them. There are so many unhappy people in the world. If one receives comfort from whatever they chose to believe then I’m all for it. But please, please don’t try to “save” me. I’m doing quite well or as well as one can be at 68 years of age with his longtime partner holed up in his basement bedroom giving me the silent treatment.

Rules of Life

Life is as serious as it is and especially lately for me. My Mom and my best friend are in the early stages of dementia.  Some of my good friends are undergoing grueling cancer treatments.  And I was recently the target of homophobic hate on my Facebook account from the husband of a friend of mine (who is probably no longer my friend, sad to say.) 

As long as I live I will never get used to the mindless cruelty of some people just because of who I am and the fact that I don't live my life as they deem I should. But, I will attempt to put that behind me and look forward to the friends that I do have that I care about and they care about me.

Yesterday I had a very nice lunch with a new friend.  That helped to bring me out of my recent doldrums.We had a few laughs, enjoyed each other's company then we were on our way.  Yesterday's lunch was a delightful interlude in an otherwise drab and dreay day.  I needed that.


Yesterday I also discovered that Facebook is a great new way to get in contact with the newer generation of my relatives. That will help me greatly in keeping up to date my genealogical family tree as well as arrange a family reunion this summer. I love working on my family genealogy.  That is my lifetime task from which I receive a great deal of satisfaction.  I would much rather spend my time in this manner than responding to someone placing his hate on me.  Love conquers hate everytime. 



I have much to be thankful for. I have good health. I have good friends and I have a wonderful, caring family. I have a nice home and a loving and caring life partner in Bill. I cannot and will not let the hate of those few people who harbor hatred towards me because I am a gay man deter me from happiness.




Below is my humor of the day. I promise my future postings will be more upbeat. I post my life as it happens. Hopefully there won't be too many more incidents like this in my life. I thought they all disappeared with the enlightenment of the past few years. I was wrong. Here is the humor:



Rules of Life They Don’t Teach in School



1. Never give yourself a haircut after three margaritas.


2. You need only two tools. WD-40 and duct tape. If it doesn’t move and it should, use WD-40. If it moves and shouldn’t, use the tape.


3. Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.


4. If he or she says that you are too good for him or her – believe them.


5. Never pass up an opportunity to pee.


6. Be really nice to your friends. You never know when you are going to need them to empty your bedpan.

Hate

I recently deleted a post about someone who invaded my Facebook account and directed his homophobia at me out of respect for a friend of mine whose account he used.  However, I want this person to know he doesn't control my life.  I also want this person to know that he should leave me alone to live my life as I choose.  I don't need him or his view of religion to tell me how to live my life.  Leave me alone.  Respect my privacy as I have shown respect for your family by removing my original post.

Like an unchecked cancer, hate corrodes the personality and eats away its vital unity. Hate destroys a man's sense of values



and his objectivity. It causes him to describe the beautiful as ugly and the ugly as beautiful, and to confuse the true with the false


and the false with the true.

Martin Luther King

Religion

Here is the first of my many future posts on religion. Yes, I have decided to take on the BIG SUBJECT, religion.



I was raised as a Baptist. As a child I enjoyed going to Sunday school. I even have a certificate for perfect attendance at a Summer Sunday School in Downingtown, Pennsylvania, which you know is pretty darn good for a 10 year old kid out of school.



Where I went off the rails with religion was when my Aunt Margaret took me to church with her one Sunday at her church in West Chester, Pennsylvania. The church was a Pentecostal Church. I believe I was about 12 years old at the time.



My one searing memory of the sermon that day was that the pastor who delivered the sermon scared me to death. He was a red haired, pale faced man but when he delivered his sermon his face was red and it seemed like foam was coming from his mouth. The only part of the sermon that I remembered was him screaming "You are a sinner! You were born in sin! You will die in sin! You must accept Jesus Christ as your savior or else you will burn eternally in the fires of Hell!"



As I left church that sunny, brisk day in leafy West Chester, I was shaken. At ten years old I already knew I was "different." I was aware of my homosexuality but I didn't know the name for it other than "fairy" for the ten letter word beginning with "c" and ending in "r." I knew that wasn't me so I didn't know what I was. Remember, this was in the early Fifties (1951 to be exact.)



From that day to this day I have never looked at organized religion the same way again. Oh yes, I have gone to different churches over the past fifty years. But I have never regained the comfort I had when attending Sunday school.



I could never express adequately in words what turned me away from the organized church other than this pastor who obviously relished the fact he was scaring the be Jesus out of his congregation by passing judgment on them over something they had no control (being born.) It wasn't until a recent e-mail exchange with a fellow blogger who is an atheist that I realized what the problem was. The church I went to that Sunday wasn't about peace and love. That church was about obedience. You obey and you get to Heaven because you're born with a major strike against you. You are a sinner. No matter what kind of life you lead, no matter how exemplary your conduct, unless you ACCEPT Jesus Christ as your Savior, you're not getting into Heaven.



Over the past fifty some years I've read a lot about different religions. I've tried some of them on for size. None fit exactly. None gave me the comfort level that they obviously give their many millions of devoted followers. Oh sure, I could tell my friends that I accept Jesus as my savior to please them but in my heart I just didn't feel it. And that is what it is all about any isn't it? You have to feel it in your heart.



It is my belief that this obedience aspect of organized religion comes from our European medieval heritage. Back in the Dark Ages the way the nobility (not us) kept the serfs (us) in line was to promise them a golden after life. They made this promise in lieu of the horrible circumstances serfs lived in; poverty, filth, disease and lack of freedom. The promise was "Sacrifice now for the prosperous after life in Heaven." Does this sound familiar? It should. That's what the terrorist suicide bombers are promised if they sacrifice their life by killing the Infidel.



How did I arrive at this belief? For one thing there is a lot of emphasis in all religions, especially the Christian religion about "praising God." Also, have you noticed God is always referred to as "The Lord?" How did the peasants and serfs refer to their nobles in medieval times? They bowed and said "Yes, my Lord." They also did a lot of praising. This is not a coincidence. It is a fundamental part of the culture of the Christian religion.



So you sacrifice today for a better after life. You do a lot of praying but make sure you give sufficient praise and under no circumstance DO NOT MOCK GOD. To many fundamentalist religious persons, any criticism of The Word or their belief is MOCKING GOD. “Do not mock God!” One half expects Charleton Heston to appear as Moses issuing thunderbolts from his fingertips to zap anyone to dares to question the existence of God.

This is just the first of many future postings I will have on this subject. My stating my religious belief, or lack thereof, I am not demeaning or criticizing those who do find comfort in an organized religion. I do understand that religious rituals offer comfort to many in this threatening and dangerous world. The way I feel about it is that if you find comfort in religion, then I am happy for you. I am happy the same way I would be if you found comfort in sailing a boat or spending time with your family. But when one takes their religion and tries to shove it down my throat because they want to "save" me, that am when I rebel.



It has never been satisfactorily explained to me how Jesus died for me. That he died to wash me of my sins. Sins that I was born with. Again, I remember back to that sermon on that spring day in April in West Chester, Pennsylvania. The thought that ran through my head was, "I didn't ask to be born and here I was born and I don't have a chance because I'm a sinner." The only way I could not be a sinner to take this nebulous step of "accepting" Jesus Christ as my savior.



What does "accepting" actually mean? Does it mean going through this charade even though my heart didn't feel it just to please my friends, relatives, and neighbors. Does it mean living a lie?



All my life I have been pushed, encouraged and then demanded to live a lie just because I happened to be born a homosexual. "Do this or something bad will happen to you." It just didn't make sense to me.



For many years I struggled with this dilemma, pleasing my friends, relatives and neighbors or be true to myself. Perhaps the turning point came about ten years ago when I was having an in depth discussion with a long time friend of mine who I like and respect in spite of his hard core conservative Republican and religious views.



He told me I would never get to Heaven unless I accepted Jesus Christ as my savior. I asked him, "Do you mean if I led an explemary life, harmed no one and then died I would not go to Heaven." He said (as best I can remember it) "Ron, Ted Bundy will go to Heaven before you will. He will go because he accepted Jesus Christ on his death bed (Mr. Bundy, a serial killer was about to be executed)



I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Ted Bundy, a notorious serial killer, would go to Heaven in spite of all the evil he did during his time on earth, but I, a quiet, unassuming, honest, good hearted, woefully naive, guy would not go to Heaven no matter what I did. Plus, I had another BIG strike against me because I would not renounce the sinfulness of my homosexuality. The way I figure it, I was born the way I was for a reason and that reason wasn't some big test of wills.



I think that day was the day I stopped believing and saw through the hypocrisy of organized, or "man-made" religion (as I call it.)



I will continue to lead my life the best way I can. Of course I know I'm not perfect but I'm not an evil person either. I do like to engage in gossip every once in a while and sometimes I experience schadenfreude. But other than that I'm a pretty uncomplicated person who wishes the best for my friends, neighbors, relatives and humanity. If I believe anything it is the belief that those among us who are truly evil will receive their comeuppance either in this life or the afterlife. Maybe there is such a thing as reincarnation and they will come back as a cockroach or some other despised life form. That makes more sense to me than all the contradictory religious teachings and proselytzing of Christians.



One thing that makes perfect sense to me is that if there is a Heaven and I get there some day I know I won't see that preacher who shouted at me all those years ago.

The Power of Prayer

Today's posting is a little different for me. As though of you who know me personally, you know that I do not buy into "man-made" religion. Another way of describing "man-made" religion is that or the organized church. The organized Christian Church left me when I was 10 years old because of my homosexuality. There are those friends of mine who criticize me for "always being the victim." Well, sorry about that but when the man-made church tells me I will burn in Hell for eternity because of who I am, and then I have no choice but to leave that church for the Select Few who were lucky enough to be born with the socially acceptable chromosome makeup.

After I left the organized man-made Christian Church when I was 10 years old I continued to have my own personal religion. Many times over the years I have prayed for guidance in this perilous minefield called Life. Many times I have had guidance from a Greater Power that has helped me through some very difficult times. I don't know whether it was my guardian Angel or Buddha or just a Spirit in the Sky. One thing I do know is that organized religion has never helped me nor has man helped me. The only thing that has gotten me this far in life (67 years) is my personal spiritual belief.

A friend sent me an e-mail this morning that best epitomizes the way I feel sometimes. The friend who sent this e-mail to me this morning is going through a difficult time of her life at this time. She recently lost her job. Then she discovered she had breast cancer. Just last week she lost her father, with whom she has lived with and cared for these many years. Now she is alone except for her brother who is caring for her.



I met my friend many years ago (1965) when I worked at Girard Bank in Philadelphia. She started work a short time after I began working for the bank. We were good friends even after we both changed our jobs and went to work for another bank up the street when Mellon Bank took over Girard Bank.



We worked together at the new bank for about seven years until I left in 1994. Over the years we have remained in touch by e-mail. Her friendship is one of the few I have maintained over the years in all my job changes and travels. She is one of those True Friends. I am very fortunate because I have a handful of these True Friends whose friendship I value more than just about anything.



My friend believes in religion but makes no judgments. My friend doesn't warn me about burning in Hell because I am a homosexual and I refuse to "accept" Jesus Christ as my Savior. My friend does not discount me as a human being because of my homosexuality. My friend does not patronize me by saying she "tolerates" me in spite of my "weakness." My friend accepts me just as I am, a human being created in the image of God.



This is her prayer. It has meaning for me. I want to share it with others who feel as I do. And why do I post an image of a made-made representation of Jesus Christ? It is only a symbol of Peace and Love which in the end is what religion is all about anyway.



 

This prayer is powerful, and prayer is one of the best gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of rewards.



Let's always pray for one another.






The prayer:






Father,


Thank you for each and every day you have


blessed us here on earth.


Thank you for your tender mercies.


Thank you for giving us friends and family to share these internet joys with. I ask you to bless my friends, relatives and those I care deeply for who are reading this right now.






Where there is joy, give them continued joy.


Where there is pain, give them your peace and mercy.






Where there is self-doubt, release a renewed confidence.


Where there is need, fulfill their needs.






Bless their homes, families, finances, their goings and their comings.














In Jesus' name..






Amen.

Just a Closer Walk with Thee

Sometimes I feel melancholy. Not sad, but melancholy. Today was one of those days. I am saddened by what I see happening in our country. There is a persistent and increasingly successful campaign by those on the Right to delegitimize our president. This cannot bode well for our country. At best our country will be led by an ineffectual and irrelevant president. At worst (and I hate to even contemplate this thought) our country will dissolve into an anarchy worse than any that foreign terrorists could wish upon us. As Pogo said many years ago “We have met the enemy and he is us.” Indeed, this prophetic announcement made in a cartoon all those years ago is coming true today.


I will not go into the politics in this blog. My only purpose in this posting is to express my sadness and concern.



Those who know me know that I’m not a church going religious person. The church left me down a long time ago when it condemned me to Hell for my homosexuality. I could never accept man made organized religion after I was condemned so heartlessly for the mere fact of being born. However, I do have my private spirituality. Listening to this song, “A Closer Walk with Thee” brings me peace and contentment. When I die (and I will as all of will), this is the song I want played at my funeral service. I am specifically requesting the Patsy Cline version.



These days I prefer to think all that is beautiful and pure in our lives and world. One such beauty is the rose with dew on its petals. I took this picture this morning in my garden. Another beautiful and pure thing is visiting my friend who is about to embark on a long trip. Bill and I had a good visit with our friend Big Bob. We joked about old times and kidded him about the possibility that he will have to be stripped searched before he could board a plane for his trip. It was all in good fun.



Then I come home again and check the news on my computer. There isn’t any good news. It all seems bad. After this posting I’ll go out again and take a walk through my garden where the only activity is the insects busily swirling around my many flowered plants enriching their short lives. Soon I too will be coming to the end of my life. I have to honestly say that I will go without any regrets. I really don’t want to be around when I see the direction this country is going. Maybe tomorrow will be better. In the meantime I seek pace and solace in this beautiful song, “A Closer Walk with Thee.”

Single Payer Health Care System

Up until a few days ago, I was a strong advocate of single payer U.S. health care. However, an experience with the Veterans Administration health care system last Tuesday caused me to lose some if not all of my confidence in a single payer system.

Since 2001 I’ve been using the VA health care system. I didn’t have a choice when I lost my job at the hotel where I worked in Lionville, PA. Luckily for me I had signed up for the VA health care system in 1998 just in case I would ever need it. Lucky because in 2001 the Bush administration discontinued the eligibility of non service connected (meaning we didn’t have a service connected disability) veterans like me from using the VA health care system which I was promised when I joined the Army in 1960. This act alone (making veterans like me ineligible to use the VA system) was the main factor in causing me to change my political registration from Republican Party did not care for me or my well being unless I was connected to the power structure. Since I neither was employed, rich or have political connections, I was on my own according to the Republican Party. My first doubts about the Republican Party began during the 1992 Republican Party convention in Houston Texas after the hateful homophobic speeches of Pat Buchanan and Pat Robertson. That was my first clue that I, as a gay man, was not welcomed in the Republican Party unless I turned straight. But that is another story for a future blog posting.

The VA health care system was a lifesaver for me. During the time I was unemployed I had one medical emergency and two operations. The VA took excellent care of me. In fact, they took better care of me than my private health care ever did. The one major operation I had with my private health care system almost killed me. I contracted a staph infection and it took me six months and three operations to finally get rid of it. I barely survived. The whole ordeal was a nightmare which I will never forget. I never received an apology from any of my private medical care providers for what happened to me, including the doctor I went to who insisted it was "all in my head" when I complained of horrendous headaches. It was only when my surgery scar burst from the build up of pus that I was delivered to the contagion ward of the hospital in an ambulance. Then the medical establishment realized that something was dreadfully wrong.

I liked the VA health care system because they seem to really care about me. I wasn’t just a number to increase the doctor’s volume of patients. The VA had a different attitude. Since they’re not operating for profit, they took more time with me. My doctor (or nurse practitioner) actually sat down with me and made eye contact with me and discussed my health. I had annual labs to monitor my health. Except for the fact that since I moved the main VA facility was now 90 miles away (as opposed to ten minutes away when I lived in Pennsylvania), I was very happy with the VA system. No, I couldn’t choose my doctor but I always had the best doctors available for me when I went to the VA for care.

Alas, it seems that has changed now. Last year the VA opened an outpatient facility in Georgetown. No longer would vets like me have to travel 90 miles one way to Wilmington, DE just to take labs or to visit our doctor. Now we could travel to the outpatient clinic in nearby Georgetown. It all looked good on paper. However, what looks good on paper and what is reality are two different things.

I have visited the VA Outpatient Clinic in Georgetown about a half a dozen times. Every time I have visited them I have a different doctor. This wasn’t good. There was no continuity. The last time I visited I had a doctor and I expressed my concern about the turnover. He assured me he would stay there because he said he liked treating “old vets” like me. I think that was a compliment. So imagine my disappointment this past Tuesday when I visited the VA Outpatient Clinic for my labs. A lot of red flags went up.

First, there was no sign in sheet. There were no instructions as to what to do. I see the obese woman behind the glass partition (what’s with the glass partition? Afraid someone is going to rob them?) I asked her “where is the sign-in sheet?” She looked up at me with a dull look and said “Hepa.” I said “Hepa?” She repeated “Hepa.” I said “Oh, it’s a privacy thing?” She said “Yeah.” Okay. Then I tell her I have an appointment for my labs. She now asks my name (why didn’t she do that sooner?)

I take my seat. A short time later a woman in a white medical jacket comes out and proceeds to rip a new one for one of the veterans. I don’t know what he did but she said to him “Sir! You will have to wait your turn! There are 30 other patients before you and you will have to wait your turn! Do you understand?” Oh that was nice. Not what you would call professional or respectful. Even if the vet was inquiring about when his turn was I don’t think that was an appropriate way to answer his question. The woman turns on her heel and stomps in the back to continue doing whatever it was she was doing before this hapless vet dared to ask his question. An uncomfortable tension settled over the rest of us vets in the waiting room. What next?

Then I was called into the back to get my blood drawn for my labs. It was all very organized, including the needle at the ready. My brother had told me a few weeks earlier that whenever a medical person inserts a needle into your arm you should see them break open a new needle and throw that needle away. I didn’t see that and I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t question it either. I should have. I was intimidated by the white jacket woman who was administering a needle to the veteran sitting next to me. Yes, they were taking our blood simultaneously. Yes, we were on a production line.

After three vials of blood were taken from me I returned out front and inquired as to when my next appointment would be. The usual procedure was to schedule an appointment the next week to go over the results of the labs or blood test. I was told that they would contact me “if there was a problem.” Otherwise, if I wanted a copy of my labs I could call them next week. So there you go. No longer did I have a doctor, or even a nurse practitioner to discuss my medical condition with me. I wasn’t asked if this is what I wanted. The decision was made for me.

Another incident which also caused me great concern was that they had no record of my partner Bill. He had not heard from them in over a year about getting his labs. He went with me and inquired at the front desk. He was told “You’re not in the system.” Not in the system? He’s been in the system since the early 90’s. They made an appointment for him and also a follow up appointment to review his labs. Why didn’t they make a follow up appointment for me?

As I was leaving I overheard another vet questioning the person at the front desk as to why he had not received his heart medicine. The woman at the front desk didn’t seem to care. The old veteran was pleading with her that he needed his medicine. She finally advised him to see the woman around the other side of the front desk. Hopefully that woman took care of his problem.

All these events on this past Tuesday morning in the span of about a half an hour left my confidence in the VA health care system very shaken. It has even affected my sleep. That’s when I know something is serious because I rarely have problems sleeping. I can sit in front of a TV or read a page or two of a book and I’m off in Wonderland in only a few minutes. Not now, I’m waking up during the night worried about my health care.

This morning I decided to do something about it. I called the VA in Wilmington and explained my concern to the operator. She immediately connected me to a woman who is the patient’s advocate for veterans. She wasn’t in so I left a message. Much to my surprise, she called me back in about 20 minutes. I told her of my experience at the Georgetown outpatient clinic and explained my concerns. She told me that the Georgetown clinic was having a great deal of difficulty keeping a doctor. She said part of the problem was probably the computer system which was frustrating to use for the doctors and nurse practitioners. She seemed genuinely concerned about my loss of confidence. She offered to reconnect with a primary health care provider at the Wilmington location. She acknowledged that it would be a long trip for me but I told her that didn’t concern me as much as I needed a primary health care provider. The trip by the local American Legion Post 28 van takes up half of my day. That is a small price to pay for the peace of mind to have a permanent, consistent health care provider with whom I can discuss my medical condition.

The lesson I am taking from my experience this past week was even though I ran into difficulty with the single provider system that I’m using through the VA, I was able to resolve the problem immediately through the VA’s patient advocate and thus stay with the system that has provided me the best health care I have ever received in my life. I have regained my confidence and peace of mind and now I can sleep again at night.

One of the Biggest Lessons in Life

A friend sent me this prescient message in an e-mail that I received from him this morning:

I think that one of the biggest lessons to learn in our lives is to be happy with who we are. We all spend so much time trying to be something or someone else and are never happy. When we can accept who we are and look at life through our own eyes, then life unfolds before us and we welcome the challenges and joys.

What a beautiful, life affirming message. This message has much more relevance to me than the “you are a sinner and you must be saved” message from my other friend and former classmate from my school days. My former schoolmate friend thinks that I should be attending church services in order to save my soul. I tell him that I cannot attend most Christian church services because they condemn homosexuality and since I am a homosexual, I am automatically discounted the moment I walk through those church doors.
My friend berates me by saying “Why do you always have to bring up the subject of homosexuality and play the martyr?” Apparently he believes in the "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy in church as well as our military. In other words, stay in the closet. Keep your homosexuality a secret. Don’t upset the “good” folks in the pews. Play along. Then if you admit you are a sinner and pray for forgiveness, then maybe you will be accepted into the Kingdom of Heaven.

Forty six years ago I broke down my self imposed closet door. It was the spring of 1963 and I decided to stop living a lie. I decided to stop substituting “she” for “he” when talking about relationships. I decided to stop sitting in church pews listening to preachers rant and rave about “fornicators, rapist, thieves, murders, and homosexuals” (notice how the bible thumpers always have a habit of lumping in homosexuals with the worst elements of society.) I told everyone; my family, my friends, my neighbors, that I was gay. Remember, this was before the Stonewall riots. This was before “Will and Grace.” This was before it was fashionable to be gay. I was stepping into Unknown Territory.

As a result of coming out, my Mother dispatched my brothers and father to “rescue me.” They appeared at my apartment and tried to physically take me to the hospital for the “cure.” Unbelievable as that sounds, that was the scene that chilly spring Saturday morning outside my apartment in Coatesville, PA. Both of my brothers pulling my by my arms outside while my father had his truck, motor running, waiting to rush me to the hospital. The scene played out that morning was bizarre, surreal, and out of this world.

They were unsuccessful in “rescuing” me. I resisted and they gave up. The struggle probably didn’t last more than fifteen minutes but it represented a irretrievable break with my former life of hiding, lying, fear, and guilt. I broke free in more ways than one. What followed were several years of estrangement from my family. Contact wasn’t made again until I was invited to a Thanksgiving dinner. By that time I had moved from Coatesville, PA and was living in Pennsauken, New Jersey with my “lover” (now called "life partner".) By the way, I am still living in sin with my "lover", 45 years later.

I accepted their invitation with one caveat; I would only come if I could bring Bill (my partner) with me. They reluctantly agreed. I don’t remember exactly how that first Thanksgiving Dinner went other than it was somewhat subdued (except for me of course, I was my usual ebullient self – I always had a hard time feeling guilty about being gay because to me it seemed so natural.) Over time Bill frequently accompanied me on visits to my parents and brothers. In fact, both my Mother and Father became quite friendly with Bill, once they discovered that he didn’t have horns growing out of his head.

Gradually, over time I would encounter people from my “previous life” who would look at me in askance when meeting me again with this new knowledge about my personal life. I encountered the usual comments like “I would never know that you were gay.” “You don’t look gay.” “You don’t talk gay.” Then I would get the well meaning folk who would give, what they would think anyway, the ultimate permission statement “Some of my best friends are gay.” These comments have continued on over the years. Perhaps my favorite was my cousin who, upon discovering I was gay (hide the kids!) said after a telling pause “Will and Grace is one of my favorite programs!” Oh, that’s wonderful. Straight people playing gay but you will never see two men kissing on that TV screen (here’s a flash, gay men kiss in real life if not in reel life.)

Straight homophobia comes in all forms and sizes. Some well meaning and some just mean spirited. I’ve experienced it all. What I am getting very, very tired of is people trying to “save” me. Save me from what? Myself? As my friend said this morning (who, by the way is gay but also was married and has two beautiful, straight children – so much for “catching” the gayness):

"….be happy with who we are. We all spend so much time trying to be something or someone else and are never happy. When we can accept who we are and look at life through our own eyes, then life unfolds before us and we welcome the challenges and joys."

I remember a few months ago watching Ted Haggard (looking haggard by the way) on Larry King Live with his wife trying to explain away his “sickness” of being gay. I felt no anger towards this former preacher of the gospel. I felt pity for this gay man who is ruining his life by trying to be something he isn’t. Watching him through the TV screen, I wanted to embrace him in my arms and say “It’s alright Ted, be who you are. Don’t try to be what others want you to be.” But, unfortunately Mr. Haggard seems resigned to living the rest of his life as others in his church hierarchy have determined. They have already passed judgment on him. He will live a life of misery and denial. How sad to live one’s life by the will of a group of self righteous, dogmatic, self-appointed experts of a man made church. I feel profound sadness for this man and his family. My heart goes out to him.

There was perhaps no better display of the ugliness of this self righteous, homophobic bigotry recently when a contestant at the Miss USA contest (Miss California) was asked her views on same sex marriages by one of the judges, Perez Hilton:

Hilton, who is openly gay, asked:

"Vermont recently became the fourth state to legalise same-sex marriage. Do you think every state should follow suit. Why or why not?"

"I think it's great Americans are able to choose one or the other," Prejeans answered. "We live in a land that you can choose same-sex marriage or opposite marriage.

"And you know what, in my country, in my family, I think that I believe that a marriage should be between a man and a woman.

"No offence to anybody out there, but that's how I was raised and that's how I think it should be between a man and a woman."

This is a perfect example of the self righteous arrogance that many Christians, especially those on the right of the political spectrum, have. They don’t see it. My friend brags about his horse blinders that I accuse him of wearing. He says it keeps him “focused.” To me this is a form of mental cowardice. He is afraid of being exposed to other ideas because he is scared to death he might change his mind and his whole world would come crashing down around him.

After Carrie Prejeans didn’t win the crown of Miss USA, Miss California responded to the ensuing controversy by saying:

..........she knew instantly after answering the question that she would not win, "because I had spoken from my heart, from my beliefs and for my God".

Note the usage of “my God.” Is this the same God that gays like me are supposed to confess our sins? Is this the all inclusive God or the God just for a select few?

This young lady has every right to live her life convinced that “her God” only accepts “opposites” in marriage. However, she doesn't have the right to tell me how I should live my life no more than I have the right to tell her how to live her life. What she needs to do is drop her self righteous attitude that God is only on her side and accept the world as it is, full of diversity and different views. Miss California may have been beautiful on the outside but she showed her inner ugliness by her answer which casually dismisses the rights of same sex couples to marry and enjoy all the legal and financial benefits that straight couples now enjoy.

It wasn't all that long ago that another beauty queen, who was also a runner up for the big prize, (Miss America) had similar warped views of reality. Anita Bryant had a very successful singing career and a role as a spokeswoman for the orange juice growers association until she decided to show her true ugliness and go on a crusade to wipe out homosexuality from America.

However, times have changed since Anita's crusading days against the "scourge of homosexuality." Carrie Prejeans, Miss California, runner up to Miss USA need not worry about where her next job is coming from. Fox News will be calling soon.

Why Does Susan Boyle Mesmerize Me So?

I dream a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung so wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

I continued to be enthralled by this modest, unassuming woman from Lothian, Scotland. What does the beauty of her voice and soul say to all of us? I find it hard to put into words my feelings of joy when I watch her video again and again. Susan is much more than the Pop Flavor de jour. She represents something in all of us, the desire to be accepted as we are and for our own unique talents whatever they may be. There is so much pressure in this world from the time we begin school to conform to someone else’s notion of what we should be that it is almost impossible to be ourselves. Susan, bless her heart, is Susan. She represents true beauty, the beauty that comes from within. It is the beauty of the soul.

We all have this potential to be ourselves. God made us all unique. I think what I find so appealing about Susan’s story is that she didn’t let the naysayers and people mocking her to keep her from her dream. And the way she did it, with grace and good will, is a lesson to all of us. After having come out of eight years of the divisiveness of the Karl Rove politics and resulting failure of the George W. Bush presidency, our world was ready for new leadership. Barack Obama is providing that enlightened leadership in our country even as the hard core Republicans and their Politics of No are melting into a green puddle on the ground like the Wicked Witch of the West in “The Wizard of Oz.” Susan Boyle is providing another kind of leadership, the acceptance of all people as one on this very small planet called Earth. The young and old; the short and tall; the thin and fat; the black, white, yellow red; the gay, straight, bi and transgender. Susan brings out the best in all of us.

Below are just some of the thousands of positive comments that I have taken from the Internet of Susan Boyle’s performance:

1. The power, present, interpretation put altogether is like nothing I have ever heard. Others sing technically perfect but miss the connection with the audience on a grand scale. She did it starting with just the first few words – an accomplishment seldom heard in a lifetime.

2. God shows himself in all shapes, forms, colors and genders.

3. Susan Boyle – plain of physical appearance, but angelically beautiful of voice and spirit
The music of her voice went straight through my chest and to my soul. One voice, one song, a few notes made me feel better than I had that whole day.

4. Susan Boyle has already won.

5. Why does Susan Boyle move us so:

Her performance was so perfect it felt like it came from Heaven
In one way or another we all have a less than attractive side to us – whether it be in looks, personality, quirks…..you name it…. that get in the way of us being appreciated for our special qualities. What Ms. Boyle demonstrated – rather profoundly I think – was that we can believe in ourselves in such a strong but healthy way – with humility dedication and humor – that we can transcend the stereotypes and challenges to be.

For me the past few weeks have been difficult. First the job I took with the Census Bureau that didn’t work out and the subsequent criticism I received from some for that decision. That was followed by the worst cold I’ve ever had in my life, from which I am still recovering. Then, on top of everything else my long time friend from Pennsylvania renews his proselytizing efforts to “save” me for eternity. I again remind him that I cannot participate in a religion that out of hand condemns me for being gay. Our ensuing conversation deteriorates to a point that I lost my desire to make the trip to Pennsylvania that I was going to make today for my class reunion committee meeting and to spend some quality time with my friend. That wasn’t going to happen since he accused me of “always bringing up the homosexual thing and acting the martyr.” That dismissive tone of voice and discounting of me as a human being belies an undercurrent of prejudice which is not conducive to a mutually respected friendship. It's just not something I can or will tolerate anymore. One of the reasons I moved down here to lower Delaware near the heavily gay populated community was to get away from this superior attitude that many straight people don't even realize they have. I don't need to make a trip back into that oppressive atmosphere.

As I said in a previous blog, I’m going to stop putting myself in situations in which people (friends included) bring out the worst in me. Those days are over. Instead I will watch this amazing woman and what positive lessons in life that she is giving us. Thank you Susan for bring a smile to my face, a lump in my throat and warmth to my heart. I, along with millions of others, appreciate the beauty that you have brought into our lives with your angelic voice and pure spirit. And please, please don’t change a thing about yourself. We love you just the way you are.