Spotacular

The "Spotacular", "Spo-ma-geddon", "Spo-a-thon" or "Spo-rama-lama-ding dong"; however you identify meeting Dr. Spo in Lewes, Delaware is fast approaching.

Scott and Matt

For those of you not familiar with this grand event, Dr. Spo of "Spo-reflections" blog fame has generously agreed to meet his East Coast blog friends in Lewes, Delaware on the weekend of March 22nd and 23rd.  Dr. Spo and his wife, husband, lover, better half partner, "Someone", will be staying at the hotel where I work in Lewes.  

The Inn at Canal Square Hotel, Lewes, DE

We have a fabulous weekend planned for Dr. Spo and Someone in our fantastically liberal state of Delaware.  Dr. Spo is coming from the state (Arizona) where the governor greets our president on the airport tarmac waving her finger at him and has a sheriff who dresses his prisoners in pink.  Yes friends, Dr. Spo and Someone come from that never never land where if you have brown skin it's "show me your papers" time.  We all have to show Dr. Spo and Someone what it like to live in a blue state.  No one will ask to see your papers here Dr. Spo.

No pink boxers for Delaware immigrants - we give them jobs

As of now ten Spo fans have reserved five rooms at the hotel, including the fabulous Captain's Quarters luxury suite right on the Lewes-Rehoboth Canal.  The Captain's Quarters will be the gathering location for the Spo fans staying at the hotel and local visiting Spo fans.  

Me at the elevator at the Inn attending to a guest need

On Saturday, March 23rd, there will be a catered Meet and Greet cocktail party  from 6 pm to 8 pm at the Waterview Room on the canal.  The Waterview Room is on the ground level from the Captain's Quarters.  The fabulous Nage Restaurant of Rehoboth Beach is catering.  Cost is $25.00 per person (payable to me on that day).    

Breakfast at the Inn

There will also be an open bar.  No cost.  Dr. Spo and I are also covering the cost of renting the Waterview Room.  

So far we have about a dozen bloggers staying at the hotel (some with their spouses). About another half dozen live in the area and will be attending the meet and greet but not at the hotel.  

For more information on who is attending the East Coast Bloggers Convention (as Dr. Spo would prefer to call our gathering, he feels all this attention on him is akin to "meet the Queen Mother"...hey, I didn't say it, Dr. Spo did), check with Cubby of Patently Queer. 

Lobby at the Inn

I promise we will all have a gay old time at the Spotacular Weekend in Lewes, Delaware.  Everyone will go home with a liberal sprinkling of fairy dust, guaranteed!

Dr. Spo (himself) 

John and Isaac - My Brothers

My brothers Isaac and John 1954 - buddies

I have two younger brothers, John and Isaac.  I may have written about them before but I'll write about them again.  I do so because sometimes I pause and count my blessings that I am so fortunate to have such wonderful brothers.

John and Isaac 1952

We are all about a year apart in age, I am the oldest.  I was born late in 1941.  Isaac was born in the spring of 1943.  John was born in the summer of 1944.

Isaac, me (messing with John's hat - I remember doing this) and John -1946

Growing up, John and Isaac were best buddies while I stayed apart.  I don't know why I wasn't best buddies with my brothers.  Maybe it was because I was aware I was the oldest and had to maintain my aloofness.  I find it fascinating to see old photos of us now.  Almost always John and Isaac are closer together and I'm standing off an extra bit, maintaining my distance.

John, Isaac and me (space) Ron 1947

We are three brothers of the same parents but, like all siblings we couldn't be more different.

Isaac, John and (space) me - 1955

John is a pastor in a Christian fundamentalist church in Greenville, South Carolina.  He is married (first wife) and has had three children.  His two oldest are girls and his youngest (named after him) was a boy, who died at birth.  John lives in Greenville, South Carolina.

Mom, me and (space) the two buddies John and Isaac 1949

Isaac is a retired welder who is now divorced.  He also had two older daughters and his youngest is his son, also named after him.  Isaac lives in Downingtown, Pennsylvania.

The Boys of Summer at the old Swimming Hole - Sam (our dog), buddies Isaac and John and (space) me - 1951

I am a retired banker (Trust Operations).  I live with my longtime partner in Milton Delaware.  I have no children.

Isaac, me and John enjoying our ice cream treat after pulling weeds in our father's cornfield - 1955

John is an extrovert.  Everyone likes John.  Even I like John.  John does not have a temper.

John, Isaac and me Christmas 1967

Isaac is an introvert.  Everyone likes Isaac.  Isaac has a big heart.  He has a temper.

Me, Isaac and John Christmas 1974

I have a passive/aggressive personality.  Sometimes I'm an extrovert and sometimes I'm an introvert.  I also have a hot temper, but mine takes longer to warm up.

John, Isaac and me - Christmas 1987

There are only three people in the world that I trust 100% to never let me down .Sorry friends, I love you all but from past painful experiences I have found that even the most devoted friends will put their family and career first before they would stand by me.  Just two weeks ago that theory was reinforced to me again when a person, who I thought was a friend, was so offended by a blog posting I did where I indirectly said he "wasted my time" by not taking advice which he asked of me decided that was the time to end our friendship.  That selfish action proved to me again how feckless some "friendships" are these days.  Step on somebody's toes and they take their ball and go home.  Friends like that I don't need.  Friends like that I don't want.

Me, John and Isaac at the Happy Days Restaurant Thorndale, PA - 2011

The Third Person who will always stand by me is, of course, My Bill.

Me and my "Little Brother" John in North Carolina - 2010

When all is said and done, I sleep well at night knowing that whatever happens to me, or whatever mood I'm in, I know there are two other people who will never abandon me, John and Isaac.

My other "little brother" Isaac - 2011

My brothers and I may have differing political views (oh brother do we ever!) and different religious views (again, BIG DIFFERENCE) but no matter what we are still brothers.

John and Isaac, animal lovers - both of their daughters have inherited their  dad's love of animals

So here is a shout out to my two wonderful brothers, John and Isaac.  I love you guys!

My brothers John and Isaac at Loew's last summer - still Best Buddies

Halloween 2011

Me, Halloween 1980

That Halloween party invitation still hasn't appeared in my mailbox.  Whatever could the matter be?  Perchance I don't have any friends down here in Gayberry to would be considerate enough to invite me to their Halloween party?  Would they really be that thoughtless and rude? Me thinks so.  Oh sure, there are the Halloween parties where you PAY to go.  No thanks.  I'm at the age where I need to be invited.  But alas, I think my chances of receiving a Halloween party invitation are about as likely as someone inviting me out to dinner to celebrate my 70th birthday which occurs nine days after Halloween.  Yep folks, I have a Halloweeney birthday.

No folks, I'm not hinting, just stating a fact.  In fact, if anyone invites me out now, I will turn them down flat.  In fact, one of my acquaintances (and he knows who he is) has said he "owes me a dinner."  Well folks, no one OWES me anything.  This was a birthday dinner from a couple of years ago.  He says to contact him but when I do he's never available.  He's always busy.  No time seems to be a good time for him.  You're wasting my time "friend."  One knows when one isn't interested.  If he was really interested he would make time.  That's like friends who say "Call me and we'll get together."  But when you all, they're never available.  Never.  Get a clue Ron.  They're NOT INTERESTED.  Been there, done that, tired of that, won't do that anymore.  Bye bye.

To be very frank with you all, I'm going through a transition right now.  I'm fed up with my job and the way the owner treats me.  Fed up.  Last night was the last straw.  I won't go into detail here because I still work there but for how much longer I don't know.  Come this April I will have worked at this establishment FIVE YEARS and only had ONE raise and that was three months after I started.  Since then...nada.  Yes, I know I'm very patient.  I put up with crap that hardly anyone else will put up with.  Maybe that's why I set myself up so often to be taken advantage of.  I'm on call 24/7.  I work part-time but am frequently called to go in and fill in for my co-workers for a variety of reasons.  I always go in.  I've never turned them down in the 4 1/2 years I worked there.  I do an excellent job.  I go above and  beyond.  Never a word of thanks, never a sign of recognition.  I've had it.

I'll be 70 years old nine days after Halloween (which I do believe I said before but it bears saying again).  Perhaps it is time for me to take stock and assess where I stand now.  Do you know the number one reason workers are dissatisfied with their job?  No, it's not the money.  The number one reason is a lack of appreciation or recognition.  I don't get the money nor the appreciation or recognition.  All I get is grief because I don't have the ability to read someone's mind.  At this time of my life do I need this stress?  Especially when I'm looking at a possible case of prostate cancer?  My appointment with my urologist is October 14th.  Yep folks, that's what I'm looking at, another Journey.

So here is the situation.  I've stocked up on candy for the little neighborhood munchkins.  All chocolate mind you.  I know what I liked when I was a kid, none of that cheap candy, give me chocolate!  I have my costumes.  Maybe I'll put one on when I answer when the little darlings ring my door bell Halloween Eve.  Lord knows I won't be going to any parties.  One would think living in Gayberry I would be inundated with invites since Halloween is the big GAY HOLIDAY.  I may not of inherited the gay gene that gets a hard on over Broadway musicals but I certainly do get INVOLVED with Halloween.  So if I'm going to have a happy Halloween this year, I'll just have to make it myself.

By the way, I didn't have a chance to watch "Dancing With the Stars" last night because I WAS WORKING LAST NIGHT. Yep folks, I was called in again to work nights that I'm not usually scheduled to work. I'm working again tonight so I won't be able to see the elimination round.

Do I sound a little bitter and cynical today?  All I can say to that is that you all are very perceptive.  One good thing, I do see the sun shining outside for the first time in what seems like weeks.

Have a great day everyone! Maybe I'll be more upbeat and cheerful on my next blog posting, but then maybe not.  Just like Forest Gump said about life being a like a box of chocolates, "You never know what you're going to get."  You sure don't.

Me (on the right!) with my neighbor Barbara - 2009

Bound To Happen

The Coolspring Presbyterian Church, Sussex County, Delaware

It was bound to happen.  Sooner or later I would be at the same cemetery taking photos of headstones and my Find a Grave.com competition would show up at the same graveyard.  That is exactly what happen just about an hour ago.

This afternoon I decided to take a ride on the backroads and look for the Coolspring Presbyterian Church Cemetery.  I haven't visited this cemetery yet.  Most of the burials are recorded on Find a Grave.com but many of them did not have photos.  I thought this cool fall afternoon would be a nice time to visit another one of these many old church graveyards that are so plentiful here in Sussex County.  Also, I had checked and my main competition here in Sussex County apparently had not visited it yet.  Ah ha, I saw an opportunity to get one step ahead of him.  Competition, it is good.

Another one of these backroad church cemeteries here in Sussex County, DE

Well, I had a heck of a time finding this church and the cemetery.  I must of drove through every remaining black rural section of Sussex County.  After about an hour of driving around, I noticed that I was going over some of the same roads.  So I backtracked and started all over again.  That worked!  I found the Coolspring Presbyterian Church.  Actually, it is only a short distance from my home.  Isn't that always the way?

I pull in the church parking lot.  I get out and survey the graveyard.  Just the kind I like; it was quiet and off the main road.  However I did hear some yokel playing a radio too loud but that didn't bother me too much.  I am in redneck country after all.

After about ten minutes, I see a little red car pull up and a guy give me a LOOK.  Uh oh, trouble.  I'm ready to explain what I'm doing there.  He comes up to me and says "Hi Ron!"  Why it is my Find a Grave.com competition!  He asks me how I'm doing.  I was puzzled at first because I didn't think he knew I had a health situation.  He must be reading my blog.  Uh oh.  I've been saying some unkind things about him on my blog.  But he doesn't refer to that but says to me "You look good."  I'll always take a compliment.  I explain to him that I'm scheduled for an appointment with a urologist next month but in the meantime I'm trying to get as much done on my grave photos as possible.  He askes me "You're not here to fulfill a Find a Grave photo request are you?"  I told him that I didn't know there was one (I missed it again) but I wasn't.  He said he was and started to look for the grave.

My Find a Grave.com competition fulfilling a photo request

While he was looking I talked to him and found out he actually is quite a nice guy.  He explained to me why he became involved in Find a Grave.com.  It was through Find a Grave that he found his long lost half-sister after 38 years.  I missed the detail on that drama but he was very thankful that he found his half sister alive.  He said taking photos for Find a Grave.com is his way of paying back.

So here's the deal folks,  from our conversation it was obvious he has been reading my blog.  He asked about my health.  How else would he know that?  He didn't refer to my blog postings where I think I made some unkind references to him.  Did I ever feel like an ass.  Sometimes karma brings situations like this around to make me realize that I do go overboard sometimes with my bitching and complaining.  It is obvious to me that I was being very unfair to my fellow Find a Grave contributor.  I thought I was the only Game in Town.  And here comes competition that got me twisted out of sorts.

Actually I am appreciative of him for giving me competition.  I have been working furiously the past two weeks to post all the photos of headstones I've taken the past three years.  I've been sitting on them, posting them when I felt like it.  Now that I have serious competition I had to up my game.

I also owe my competition (who shall remain unnamed out of respect for him, he didn't even want me to take his picture but I snuck one anyway) an apology for saying unkind things about him on my blog.

So if you're reading this my friend I apologize for any unkind things I may have said about you on my blog.

A Mile Wide and an Inch Deep

Down on Rt. 9 towards Georgetown there is a furniture store on the right side of the road called Beschels.  I've been in the furniture store a few times, checking out their wares.  The furniture store is unremarkable except for one feature.  Outside of their building they have a big deck with a wooden statue of an Alaskan fisherman clad in an yellow slicker rain gear.  The deck this fisherman stands on overlooks what is a vast, large pond.  Every time I ride down Rt. 9 I look over at the this pleasant sight of the fisherman by the pond.

However, this summer we've been having a drought here in Lower Slower (aka Sussex County, Delaware).  The pond is dried up.  The yellow rain gear clad fisherman still stands on his deck but now he overlooks a dried up pond.  Now when I ride by Beschels and look over to my right, I feel sad.  What is supposed to be isn't.  And that is because that "pond" was only a few inches deep.  When there is water in it, it looks vast.  Without water it looks like what it is, a dried up indentation of land.

Tonight I went to our usual Friday Night Dine Out group.  Tonight's restaurant destination was the Ocean Point Grill in Lewes.  On this early August summer evening I decided to join my gay friends for our weekly get together.  I walk into the restaurant looking for my friends.  No one was there. I tell the owner/manager who is at the cash register "I'm here with the group."  He looks at me like I just stepped off of a spaceship.  I say "There should be a group meeting here tonight."  He says "I know of no group that is meeting here but we have tables if you would like to eat here." Uh oh, I better check my e-mail.  I tell the owner/manager that I'm going to check "something."  I go outside and bring up my e-mail on my iPhone.  There it is, a message from the organizer of the Friday Night Dine Out group.  The message says that only me and one other person have responded.  He said he didn't reserve a table and if we're interested that we should contact one another.  Well, I don't think so. It's another "blind date."  I've already had one of those this summer.  I'm not up for another.  Embarrassed and humiliated that I put myself into this position, I don't respond to the e-mail.  I get in my car and leave.  I won't do this again.

As regular readers of this blog know, one of the reasons I moved to the Rehoboth Beach area of Delaware was to make friends with other older gay men like myself.  Since we moved to Delaware in November of 2006, I have met a number of people, both gay and straight.  Most of them are nice and pleasant people.  A couple of strange ones and one or two real creeps but for the most part, nice folk.   However, I've only been able to make one true friend.  I will not state his name here but he knows who he is.  I have made several really good straight friends.  In fact, I've made more straight friends that I have made gay friends.

I've met and know a number of gay friends (all male, lesbians don't want to be friends with gay men no matter how hard I try.)  But, like the "pond" in front of Beschle's Furniture Store, the pond is a mile wile and an inch deep.  Tonight the pond dried up.  Tonight I had a true picture of what my gay friendships are really like here in Gayberry, DE.  Nothing.

Now this could all be my fault.  I may not be quality material for friendship.  I know some gays  can be very superficial.  Gee, do you think? I remember all too well one of my early friendships.  Oh he was the Toast of the Town with Potlucks and Big Involvement in the Gay Community with the local gay organization called Camp Rehoboth, which is really a private club for two longtime lovers whose only goal seems to be raising money for gay slave auctions and gay dances to raise more money all under the guise for "creating a more accepting community for gays." I could go on about that fallacy but that is a subject for another whole posting.  Back to my friend (and he knows who he is because he reads this blog...sometimes and will probably post a bitchy comment).  Once Mr. Involvement in the Community needed help because of the breakup of his longtime union with his partner and had no place to live, not one and I mean NOT ONE of his circle of friends came forward to help him.  I helped him short of inviting him to live in my home which was not possible.  I help him move, I helped him find a job, I went out to dinner with him when no one else would.  I'm not bragging on myself and I don't expect anything in return but only mention this to illustrate the shallowness of gay friendships here in the East Coast Gay Capital.  I don't recall anyone from Camp "Inclusive" Rehoboth busting down his door to help him in his transition from Gay Couple to Gay Single Man and all the trauma that he had to go through in this chapter of his Passage of Life.

I am very fortunate in that I have Bill, my longtime partner.  Bill doesn't and won't involved himself in any of these gay friendships because he sees them for what they are, false and shallow.  As I said earlier, we have made one friendship since we've been down here and we value that friendship very much.  Bill expressed surprise that we have that one friendship.  Bill has been around a lot longer (13 years) than I have and he knows how these things work.  He was on the gay scene long before me.  When we met, he withdrew from the gay social whirl and hasn't regretted it one bit.  He has often told me how foolish I am to expect to make any gay friends and apparently he is right.  There is no doubt that I felt like a Big Fool tonight standing at that cash register looking for my group of "friends."  The laugh was on me.  One thing is for sure, it won't happen again.

During my time on this earth I have made many friends.  Most of my friends are straight.  Some are from my school days, who I still keep in touch with.  Some are former friends from work who I also keep in touch with.  Of course I have relatives who are friends but most of them keep me at arm's length because I am gay.  They still think that is some kind of sickness of illness but they "forgive me" for my "deficiency of character" and accept me in spite of my gayness.  I've made  some friends in my neighborhood but ironically of the three gay couples in my neighborhood we are not friends.  Two of the couples are lesbians and as I said earlier lesbians generally have nothing to do with gay guys unless they want advice on a window treatment.  We were friends with the other gay couple in the neighborhood for a short time until I found out one of them was an unapologetic racist who freely uses the "N" word and the other a constant critic who was always belittling us.  We couldn't keep that friendship.  Just because they were gay doesn't mean we were compatible.

A long time ago I heard the definition of a true friend.  It went something like this "A true friend accepts you are, not the way they want you to be."  I am fortunate in that I do have some true friends who know me well.  They know the Good Me and the Bad Me and they accept me just as I am.  They ask nothing of me. They like me for who I am.

Unfortunately, most of the gay people I've met down here either want something from me, want to control me, or don't have time for me because I have nothing to offer to them.

Ironically, one of the main reasons I moved to Delaware (other than the low taxes and I did just get my tax bill today which is the same as it was five years ago), was to be with my one true gay friend that I meet over 50 years ago when we were both serving in the U.S. Army.  Unfortunately, a few years ago he started to show signs of dementia.  In the past couple of years he has slowly gotten worse to the point that he called me a few weeks ago asking "What night does the Friday Night Dine Out Group meet?"  He has no cognitive skills and doesn't remember anything.  He still remembers my name but our conversations are always one sided (with me doing all the talking) and minutes after our conversation he doesn't remember what I've said.  He may be here in body but his mind is gone.  We can't do the things we used to like taking rides, dining out, and just having late night conversations on the phone catching up on the latest gossip.

I know this has been a long post and I offer no apologies.  If you're this far in my post than I guess I'm of some interest to you.  For some others, I probably have bored you to tears.  Well, that is just the way it is.

This morning I went to a local graveyard and took about three hundred pictures with my "friends."  When I work in my back yard I'm with my "friends" the birds, bees and plants.  When I walk, I'm with my "friend" nature.  I have a good friend from my school days that I call on FaceTime in the early morning.  He's straight and doesn't discount me as a human being because I just happen to be gay.  We always enjoy each other's conversations.  I talk to Bill every day.  He says I don't talk to him often enough.  I tell him that's because if I talk to him too long then he starts with the criticisms and our conversations end in an argument.
 
Yes, even after forty-seven years together, we still have to work on our relationship.  It's not all his fault though, I have a low tolerance point for constant criticism, probably because I had to endure so much growing up from my father but then again, that is a story for another blog posting.  How ironic I ended up with a man who is so much like my father.

I have a longtime friend from my workdays at the bank in Philadelphia who asked me once when I wrote a similar post like this "What are you looking for in friends?"   He sounded a little bemused when he asked this question because I think he thinks I have a lot of gay friends down here in Gayberry the Rehbooth Beach/Lewes/Milton area because of the large group that goes to the Friday Night Dine Out.  Not so, that large group of "friends" is like that large pond...a mile wide and an inch deep.

Friday Night Dine Out Group Bomb Rescue

My Garden Fairy

Phew!  We're finally getting a break from this heat.  I just returned from dinner with my friend Bob C. from Milton.  I was to meet my regular Friday Night Dine Out Group at the Broadkill Boathouse in Milton but I had to change my plans.  I arrived at the Boathouse on time, I could hear the loud music from where I parked way up the street from the Boathouse parking lot because it was packed.  The closer I got the louder the music got.  Not a good sign.

I make my way through the folks outside the door having a smoke (another "not a good sign") to the cool inside of the noisy bar which I have to pass through to get to the dining room.  I look for my group.  At first I couldn't see them from the din of noise of the music and loud people screaming over one another.  Then I saw them.  There!  Over in the corner, packed together like sardines.  Actually, more like packed together like an old man bowling league dine out group which is what a lot of people think our little gay group of older men look like when we dine out together like this.  The only thing that gives away our sexual proclivities are Rick and Nick who like to hold hands while out in public - not that there is anything wrong with that.

So I look for my chair.  Nada.  None.  There is no chair for me.  So do I want to bust into this group of old men bowlers and demand a chair?  I don't think so?  I'm not to enamored with the offerings of the Broadkill Boathouse either, even though my friend Don V. is enthralled by this new restaurant in the heart of downtown Milton, DE.  Me?  Not so much.

It took me all of perhaps a second or two to make the decision "I'm not eating here tonight."  I was undecided all day anyway as to whether I wanted to go out tonight in this stifling heat and breath taking humidity.  Seeing our group of old gay men shunted over in the corner of this noisy restaurant sealed my decision.  In a situation like this I can foresee the future.  It wouldn't be a good experience because the waitress would invariably get our orders mixed up; we would be shouting over each other all during the meal trying to have a conversation; and then there would be the usual confusion over who got what check.

I backup, turn around and make a determined retreat to my car in the parking lot up the street by Wagamon's Pond.  My car is the only car in the parking lot which is the way I like it.  I try to minimize my opportunities for getting dings in my car door after paying over $100 to have a couple of dings removed from my new car door.

When I got to my car I had a brainstorm and called my friend Bob C. and see if he wanted to go to dinner in a less crowded and noisy restaurant.  Just on the off chance.  I called and Bob answered.  He answered in the affirmative but he would have to change first. He said he would leave his door unlocked and I could let myself in.  That I did.  I didn't have to wait too long until he descended from his second floor staircase in grand fashion in a suitably appropriate Hawaiian shirt for our impromptu date.  My blogger friend Dr. Spo would have approved.

We drive down to the Bay Leaf restaurant near the car wash (many of our restaurants have the weirdest locations).  The cold of the air conditioned air envelopes us as we walk into the front door of the Bay Leaf.  This restaurant is also busy too but not packed and certainly not as noisy as the Broadkill Boathouse.  I did see a baby in a bassinet on a table which is usually a killer for me.  The woman waves to Bob.  He knows her.  She's the lady who runs the Milton Historical Society. I learn later it is her adopted baby. She's allowed. This obviously is not the time to make my predictable scene about babies in restaurants.  Instead I asked to be seated in the next room in a booth.  I'll manage.

We were seated, waited on, ordered and we had a wonderful meal!  I could actually talk to my friend and he could talk to me without each one of us shouting.  And, a big plus, there was no musical accompaniment.  I don't know what it is with these restaurants around here where they think it is necessary to hire the local "talent" (which is debatable) to sing and strum along with the meal and the din of diners shouting over one another.  No, instead we had a very enjoyable meal.  Bob had stuffed flounder and I had a roasted vegetable panini which was DELICIOUS!

So tonight I performed the rare task of turning another potentially disastrous restaurant dining experience (which I've had too much of recently) into a positive restaurant  dining experience.  At the risk of being a bore (which I am always at the risk of being and might actually be but I prefer not to acknowledge that at this time), I must say I am quite proud of myself for my quick thinking tonight.  Maybe I learned something form all those force fed all those management training seminars I blackmailed into taking endured my banking career heyday in which we were taught to turn around bad situations.  You know, make lemon aid out of a lemon.

When I got home tonight at about 8:45 pm, the sun had set and total darkness was inevitably settling down upon the landscape.  The temperature had dropped to a downright tolerable 88 degrees.  It was actually comfortable in spite of the humidity that was still in the air and clung to my body.  I took this picture of one of my favorite girl statues that is illuminated by one of my solar powered floodlights.

Yes, this day ended well.  Disaster was avoided.  Tomorrow another adventure awaits.  I am having brunch at Cafe Azafran in Lewes with the infamous famous"Anne Marie of Philly."  Film at eleven.

My favorite girl garden statue - not appropriate for a garden but I like it anyway

Friday Night Dine Out Group at the Cracker Barrel

This is the first video taken with my new iPhone camera.  I'm loving it!  


Almost always, every where I go I have my Canon Power Shot A560 camera strapped across my chest.  Tonight I decided to forego the usual accessory and go with my iPhone instead.  The video above was taken with my iPhone by my friend and Mac Mentor, Don V.  Pretty good huh?  I am impressed.


Well, today was quite the day.  The temperature rose into the 70's thus affording me the opportunity to get a head start on my spring cleanup of my backyard.  First thing I needed was a new hedge clipper.

Bill and I headed down to Lowe's and I purchased a Black and Decker Monster Hedge Trimmer.  It's already paid for itself.  I trimmed five HUGE Pampas Grass plants.  All my holly trees (about 20 I think) and all my roses.  The back yard is looking good and ready for the new growth.  

The only downside to the day was that my body aches all over now.  I am coming to the realization that his 69 year old body just doesn't have the stamina it used to have when I could go all day at yard work.  I am facing the fact that I may have to hire a young (preferably good-looking) young man to do this work next year.  That is not an alternative that displeases me by the way.  Now I'll be one of those Old Guys who hires people to do my work.  I've arrived!

I knew this day was coming.  Some years ago I remember my Mother telling me, right after she finished hoeing and weeding six rows of corn after working an eight hour shift at Pepperridge Farms, that she realized she was old for the first time because she just could knock out those rows of corn like she used to.  My Aunt Mabel told me the same thing when she was 74 years old after she whipped up a huge Sunday Company Dinner, which she used to do effortlessly.  My Time has come.  My body aches ALL OVER.  I will sleep well tonight.


Thus, our Friday Night Dine Out Group meeting at Cracker Barrel was very welcomed tonight.  This is just another reason why I'm glad I retired to southern Delaware and the Rehoboth Beach/Lewes/Milton area of LSD.  We have a large retired and semi-retired gay population of delightfully interesting older gay men in this area.  Tonight was no exception.  Long gone are the days when my gay socializing was arriving at the 247 Bar in Philadelphia at the proper 11 PM time on Friday and Saturday night.  Then boozing the night away gabbing with friends and hoping to score a trick.  These days at 11 PM I'm going to bed.  Times have change and I will say they have changed for the better.  

iPhone, iPad, iMac and FaceTime

Bob C. on FaceTime from Sarasota, FL to Milton, DE

We finally did it! My friend Don V. and I talked our friend Bob C. into downloading FaceTime onto his new Mac laptop.   


Now I'm talking about a bunch of guys in their advanced years.  Bob C. is the baby of the group at "only" 67 years of age.  I'm 69 and Don V. is 70.  We all have a lot of information stored in our gray heads.  I don't know how much room there is for all this new advanced technology but we're trying to keep up with the younger folk who have more empty space in their heads than we do for learning all this new fangled stuff.


Don is our computer guru.  He's been using Mac computers for 27 years.  He has graciously been teaching both me and Bob all the cool functions of our new Mac computers.  I have an iMac and a iPad.  Bob C. has a Mac laptop.


Don was over for dinner with me and Bill last night.  After dinner he picked up on his Mac tutorial lessons for me where he left off last week, when he was also over for dinner (the least I could do for Don's generosity in sharing his Mac information).  


Last week Don didn't get to leave until after midnight.  We were both exhausted.  Last night we both petered out at about 10:30 pm.  One fact of life we have to face is that we're no Mark Zuckerberg (we're better looking and we can blink our eyes).  

Larry M. and me at my Mom's home 1962

A couple of weeks ago Don got me hooked up to FaceTime which is a face to face telephone communication between users of Mac products with cameras.  I was sold on this wonderful function immediately.  Now I can talk to my good friend Lar from my school days who lives in Claymont, DE. 

Larry M. and me at 10 Downingtown Street in Downingtown, PA 2004

This morning I talked to my brother John who lives in Greenville, SC.  Prior to our FaceTime conversation I used to talk to John over his poor phone connection.  Now we have a clear phone conversations plus we have all the nuance and subtlety of conversations by face to face that one can never have over the faceless phone conversations.

Brothers Ronald and John Tipton 1948 

Don has shown me just a fraction of the thousands of apps that are available for Mac users. He has been urging me to get an iPhone and now that I see all the neat new things I can do, I am convinced.  I'm going to order two iPhones (one for me and one for Bill who is 82, we're pushing the envelope here).  I think Bill was sold when he saw me and Don playing Angry Birds last night on my iPad.  Bill likes computer games.  He finds them relaxing.

My "baby" brother John and me at his home in Greenville, SC 1994

So now I have an iMac.  On February 9th, I order two iPhones.  And this spring when the new iPad comes out with a camera, I'm ordering that baby.  I'll give Bill the iPad that I'm using now.  


Who would've ever thunk that a bunch of old guys like us could ride this technological wave?  We're doing it and I feel great about it!

A Little Spontaneous Action

Me and "The Cajun" - Riverboat Gamblers

Wayne (AKA "The Cajun") and me at Olde Time Photo in Rehoboth Beach


After having slept most of this rainy Sunday, I decided late in the afternoon to take a ride into Rehoboth.


Normally I would not do this on a Sunday night in season but since it rained today I figured the vehicle and people traffic wouldn't be too bad. I was right.


As I was making my left turn off of Rt. 1 onto Rehoboth Avenue (Rt. 1A) I thought to myself, "Why not stop by Dos Locos and see if Wayne is still there?"  Wayne is a host at Dos Locos.  He usually gets off around 5 pm.  I thought on a lark, drop by, pick up Wayne, treat him to dinner at the Purple Parrot and then go to Olde Time Photo and have a crazy picture taken.


I was in luck.  Wayne was just getting off work.  He was surprised to see me but he was up for the adventure.  He said he had already eaten but would join me for a drink at the Purple Parrot while I chowed down a Wimpy hamburger (with cheese and crispy bacon - no raw bacon for me thank you.)


About a year and a half ago (was it that long ago), a group of us used to meet at the Feathered One (AKA the Purple Parrot restaurant) on Sunday nights for a weekly get together of old friends.  Really OLD FRIENDS.  


However, somehow that tradition has fallen by the wayside for several reasons of which I won't go into at this time.


It was good to get our table by the window again where we could view the parade of people strolling down Rehoboth Avenue while we chatted and waited for our order.  Wayne ordered a margarita.  He was sampling the competition.  Dos Locas has the best margaritas this side of Rt. 1.  The margarita he got at the Parrot missed the mark.  Obviously from a mix, it was bitter and not pleasant.  Somewhat awkwardly he asked the waiter to take it back.  But that was the only sour note on the night.  My Wimpy hamburger and fries were perfecto.  Just as I remembered them from a year and a half ago, the last time I was at the Parrot.


While stuffing my face with my Wimpy,  who do I think I see walking by outside than none other than one of my blog fans.  I do believe it was Mark with his partner Fred.  Was that you Mark?  I think we made eye contact but you swiftly averted your eyes.  You came into the Parrot and went to the bar with Fred but you left shortly thereafter.  I was tempted to go up and say "Hi!" to you but Wayne advised me against it.  I didn't want to cause any problems in your marriage.  Ah, the drama that unfolds when one ventures out into the night.


It was a beautiful night.  After dining at the Parrot, Wayne and I crossed the street to the old time photo place.  This Sunday Rehoboth Avenue was busy but not crazy busy like it is in the height of summer.  A cool breeze surrounded us, the soft lights of the avenue was kind to our old visages, and we were in an adventurism mood.  Almost like two young kids even though I'm 68 and Wayne is 64.  God, we're old.


As luck would have it, they were empty.  I didn't want to have our pictures taken with a bunch of screaming, irritable, restless kids around.  I did that when I had my Christmas card pictures at J.C. Penney Dover last year.  I didn't want to go through that experience again.  


The two young ladies from some eastern European country (one from Russia) who were working at the old time photo place were delightful.  We decided to have our pictures taken as two old time western gamblers.  Oh and did we ever look like the gamblers.  I'll post those pictures tomorrow (I have to scan them and it's too late now for all that activity.)  


After our pictures were taken and we were choosing what pictures we wanted to keep, Wayne's two bosses stopped by to say "Hi!"  The picture posted on this blog is the one they took of us.  I know, I know, my blue plaid shirt does not match my gambler outfit (Wayne already told me.)  However, the smiles are genuine.


All and all, a good night in the town.  One is never too old for a little spontaneous action.  


We're not dead yet.  

The night didn't end well - our usual relationship - contentious

Friends

Jim and Bob - my friends.

I met Bob when I was in the Army in 1960.  We were best friends.  We went to Army Security Agency training school together in Ft. Devens, Massachusetts.  We were inseparable.

After we completed school we were given the option to choose our allocations.  Our order of choice was based on our standing in class.  I was 6th in the class, Bob was 7th.  When it was our turn there was only one allocation for Ft. Meade, Maryland.  The rest of the allocations were multiple.  I wanted to stay with Bob.  However, he told me that if I didn't take Ft. Meade, he would.  He wanted to be close to his home in Norwood, PA.  So I took the Ft. Meade allocation.

Bob took the next allocation closest to his home which was Ft. Bragg, North Carolina.  Yep.  He had to qualify for the parachute jump.  Boy, I'm glad that wasn't my choice.  Lucky Ron.

Bob and I kept in touch the following two years by letters.  Remember a long time ago when people actually wrote letters?  That was how we kept in touch.

After I got out of the Army I came out as a gay man.  Much to my surprise I found out my friend Bob was also gay.  He didn't know anybody else who was gay.  Ironically, neither one of us had a sexual attraction for the other all the years we were best friends.  This gives lie to the fact that many straight people believe all gay people are interested sexually in EVERYONE of the same sex.  Not so.

I introduced Bob to his first gay bar in Pittsburgh, PA.  It was a disaster.  The first gay guy who talked to him, Bob bolted out the door and returned to Norwood, PA.  By the time I moved back to Coatesville, PA, Bob had calmed down.  I introduced him to another gay bar, the Westbury Bar in Philadelphia.  This time Bob hung around and got "acquainted" with the denizens of the bar.

We continued our friendship.  Eventually Bob bought a weekend retreat in Sussex County Delaware.  This is where he and Jim live now.

Bob met Jim at a bar in Wilmington about 28 years ago.  They have been a couple ever since.

All during the late 70's, 80's and 90's I visited Bob and Jim at their single wide (now a double wide) on their 22 acres of woods near Georgetown, deep in the heart of Sussex redneck country.  They are within walking distance of Wilson's General Store which still sells sandwiches as well as ammunition for guns.  Folks, Sussex County doesn't get any more redneck than that.

When I decided to retire, Delaware was my first choice.  My second choice was Johnson City, Tennessee.  I decided on Delaware because of the close proximity to my Mom's home in Downingtown, PA.  I was also attracted by the tax friendly climate of Delaware towards seniors like me.

Another factor was the large gay population.  I thought once I moved to Delaware I would make a lot of gay friends.  That hasn't happened.  I've been here four years now and I can count the friends I've made on one hand.  They are Wayne, Bob C., Doug, Paul and Jack.  Of course maybe this is saying something about me.

It could also be saying something about the unique gay culture in the Rehoboth Beach/Lewes/Milton area.  Most of the gay men I met are very cliquish.  Probably because most of them come from the Washington, D.C. area.  You know; six figure salaries, high pensions.  I'm not in that crowd.  I don't fit.

I'm not complaining.  I just think it is interesting how cliquish the guys are.  Of course the lesbians are another matter altogether.  To them, men are invisible.  They want nothing to do with us.  That's fine.  They do their golfing thing and go on their Olivia cruises.  Hey, I'm happy for them.  But I think most of them have the attitude towards us guys as all window treatment "guys."  That is how one local lesbian writer refers to her "guy friends."  I loved it when she wrote "I'll have to get one of my gay guys to come over and do a proper window treatment for me and my lady.  We're too busy buying tools at Loew's to be bothered with such triviality."


But I digress.  Back to Bob and Jim.  Bob is 73 years told now.  He's been retired for several years.  He used to do handyman work.  Jim was a nurse and retired last year due to health reasons.  Both are very forgetful these days.  Bob more so than Jim but Jim is rapidly catching up.

Bill and I stopped over today to see Jim's new car.  I also took over the Memorial DVD that I made of pictures of my Mother.  Bill always likes to pay a visit to Bob and Jim because they live in the woods.  Bill misses the woods so much.  We used to live in the middle of the woods in Pennsylvania.  Now we live on an open acre of land in a development with one tree.  Bill hates it.  I love it.

Whenever we visit Bob and Jim these days they're both in a tizzy looking for something they have misplaced.  As I said, they are both very forgetful.  Jim has already seen my new car, but I had to explain to him again today that I had a new car.  He came out to see it again.  Maybe he will remember the next time.

Bill got angry at me when I was leaving because I opened the sun roof.  He thought I did that just to aggravate him.  Maybe I did.  But he wasn't in the mood for it today so now he's not speaking to me.  This is nothing new.  He goes though these cycles.  He was due to get mad at me.  He'll get over it but this will probably last a few days, maybe a week.

Bill will be 82 years old on September 26th.  He is in fine health.  I am 68 years old.  Chances are that I will survive him.  If I do, I will never......NEVER have another partner.  We've been together 46 years but they haven't always been easy.  I don't know of any long term relationships that run smooth.  Ours certainly doesn't.  But I love him and I'll stay with him in spite of his moods.  At least as long as we wants me to stay with him.

So, back to Bob and Jim.  I'm glad they're together.  I'm glad we're friends.  I hope we all last a long time.  However, when that time comes that I lose these friends and lose my partner I know what I have to do.  Get a cat.