Maneesh de Moor

On those days that I have to go to work at 3 in the afternoon (Wednesdays and Thursdays) I try to always take at least an hour nap before I leave the house at 2:30. The alarm I use is a CD by Maneesh De Moor called "Sadhana". You may never have heard of Maneesh se Moor and I didn't either until last year. I don't remember how I discovered him but what I do know is that his CD totally relaxes me and makes me feel one with the universe.


Click the 'play' button on the video while you read the blurb from the CD album:


Stunning in its sensuality and lush with ethereal and earth rhythms, Sadjhana gathers a circle of musicians from around the globe for ten tracks of ethno-ambient chill/world that serve as an "aphrodisiac for the soul." Here Dutch composer Maneesh de Moor has created an ecstatic blend of Tibetan chanting and didgerido, tamboura and acoustic bass, Persion santoor and pine, and the heavenly voices of Suda and Sandhya Sanjana that will allow listeners to hear their walls dissolve into a joyful awareness of life.


A master of keyboard layering, Maneesh has taken his mastery of sound synthesis and infused it with the sounds of nature-birdsong , flowing water, crickets in a nighttime soundscape-and the human voice-from whispers to deep, baritone chanting-to evoke "Sadjhana": a contemporary tribute to the spiritual life of devotion and meditation.
On this new musical creation, de Moor ventures off into a sublime and devotional sound all on his own. "This album is not about musicality but about transformation-the music is made for energetic, physical, and mental state of well-being in the listener" says de Moor. "The music on the CD came through from the Beyond, guided by Spirit. All I had to do was to be open and receptive to it and record that space, that energy: The result is Sadhana, a journey inspired by the magical rituals of India, Tibet, Yoruba, and Native American and Sufi worlds - and mean to create a space of visions and Oneness.


Listening to this music soothes my soul.  I am transported when I listen to the steady beat and the sounds of nature and feel the energy that comes from this music.  Maybe I'm a closet Bhuddist or whatever they call those religious people who meditate to the soul cleansing sounds of this music.  It is unearthly.  It is the music I want played at my funeral.  Is that too weird?

Bye Bye Miss American Pie

A very good friend sent me this video.  While I see touches of Fox News in it and no depictions of a gay couples, nonetheless, I think it is a feel good video.  Still, it would have been nice to see a gay couple or two to reflect the real diversity of American culture.  Enjoy.

This is Gay Pride?

Men dresssed and made up as women to celebrate Gay Pride Month of June

June is now universally known as gay pride month.  June is the date because that is the anniversary of the Stonewall riots of 1969 when the gay patrons of the Stonewall Inn in New York City rebelled against the time honored tradition of the police busting them just for assembling in a bar.  Most of the gays who rebelled were drag queens.

Now I'm the first to admit that some of the bravest "men" I've meet and seen over the years have been drag queens.  I especially remember one event that occurred at the Westbury Bar in Philadelphia in 1969 that involved a black man named "Sara Vaughan" and my obnoxious butch gay friend (not really, more of an acquaintance) Joe M.  Joe was casually insulting Sara for being a 'drag fag' (Joe was gay himself by the way) while they were both in the waiting line to go to the Ladies Room at the Westbury.  Sara finally had enough and 'she' turned around and gave butch Joe a punch right in his face.  Joe, in shock and disbelief, swung back and the next thing everyone knew, both were on the dirty, drink-spilled floor of the bar, trying to land punches on one another.  During the melee, Sara lost her wig.  The bouncer finally separated the two gay men (one a black drag queen and the other a plaid shirted, dungaree wearing cowboy) Sara screamed "Where's my wig?!  Where's my wig?!"  Somebody scooped it up off of the mucky floor and handed it to her.  It looked like week old roadkill that had been through several rains.

Needless to say, I had a new found respect for drag queens.  Now having said that, now I'm going to get something off of my chest that has been bothering me for a long time.

Every June there are gay pride parades through out the world.  These parades are covered by the media.  There are many participants in these gay pride parades.  SOME of the participants are drag queens much like the two pictured at the beginning of this post.  MORE are just regular gay folk like myself.  So who does the media cover when reporting on the gay pride parades?  Drag queens.  That bothers me because it presents a picture of all gays as drag queens.  I have no desire, no have I ever had a desire to be a drag queen.  I have always enjoyed being a male.  In fact I am so thankful that I was born a male, not that there is anything wrong with being a female (some of my best friends are after all), it's just that I prefer being a male.  In fact I like males so much, that I've lived with one for the past 46 years (soon to be 47 this July).

So every year when the gay pride parades hit the news, let's lay off the drag queens.  Hey, I like them and have been entertained by them many times over the years.  And at one time one of my good friend was a drag queens ("she" died some years ago).

I now live in the Rehoboth Beach area of coastal Delaware.  Rehoboth Beach and the surrounding areas of Lewes, and Milton are very gay friendly and becoming more so as the years go by.  Many straights also visit this beach resort area.  What the straights see mostly of the gays are the very visible drag queens who put on shows for the straights.  I believe everyone has the right to earn a living but to me gay men performing as drag queens (and STILL impersonating Liza, Barbra and Judy - when is THAT GOING TO STOP?) is like black men performing minstrel shows for the whites. This might be considered a harsh judgement by some but hey folks, that's just the way I see it.

Now that I've gotten that off of my chest I want to say that I am proud to be a gay man and very impressed with the progress that has been made towards 'acceptance' (I hate that term but can think of no other) of gay men and women in the year 2011.  Never in my wildest dreams when I was the Only Gay Man in the World in 1960 did I think this country would have ever come this far.  But now that we have, can we please drop the gay stereotype of the drag queen?

A Taste of Summer

This afternoon I experienced a little spontaneous combustion and took the ten mile ride down Route 1 to Rehoboth Beach.  I rarely venture into Rehoboth during the "season" because of the hordes of touristas.  But I was feeling brave this afternoon plus I wanted to get one of those Tervis hot-cold glasses that don't condense.  The only place I know to get those is a place called Odeysea in Rehoboth and it is only open in the tourista season after 11 am.  When I do go into Rehoboth during the season I go very early in the morning around 6 am and I'm gone by 8 am before the meters kick in.

Yesterday I was invited to an impromptu lunch by my next door neighbors Bob and Barb along with another neighbor Jane.  Those Tervis glasses were used and it reminded me that I MUST get one this season.  Thus I put on my cruise wear and headed to Rehoboth this afternoon.

Of course the traffic was heavy as it always is once the tourist season swings into full Horde Force after Memorial Day.  Today was no exception.  I quickly found a parking slot.  Now to figure out the meters.  The charge for the privilege of parking in Rehoboth during the Height of the Season is $1.50 per fifteen minutes.  The meters now have the option of sucking up your credit card.  That's an automatic $3.00 charge for I don't know how many minutes.  I never got that far because I couldn't figure out what way to put in my credit card.  I think I tried ever position, something which I haven't done in my real life of 69 years and nothing worked.  Thus I retreated to my Bag of Quarters I keep for such emergencies.

After depositing more quarters in the meter than I did when I opened my first savings account at Downingtown National Bank when I was a 10 year old kid, I was on my way down Rehoboth Avenue looking for this store called Odeysea.  I couldn't find it.  I stopped into Critter Beach, an overpriced pet store that sells rhinestone collars for pampered pooches and ask "Where is the Odeysea."  The smile on the proprietor's face quickly faded once he realized I wasn't going to make a needless deposit in his store and he said "It's down at the end of the block."  Uh huh.  I acknowledged his helpful advice by saying "Hi" to him, hoping that maybe he would remember that we were introduced before. His partner is my dentist.  Alas, I don't think he remembered me.  I would like to think that I am memorable but among the masses of the flip-flop shoed masses on Rehoboth Avenue, I was just another Tourist Inquiring About Directions.

I couldn't find the store.  I went down as far as Hooters.  I knew it wasn't there.  I stopped into another store; one of those stores that sell overpriced beachwear to the gullible out of towers in town for Fun and Games.  The foreign sales clerk (we have a lot of Eastern European women and some men who work in Tourist Land during the season) didn't have a clue as to what I was talking about.  At least she was pretty and polite, unlike the brush off I received from Mr. Gay Man in Critter Beach.

I stop in Insight, a store that I have made many purchases from in previous years.  I got the Big Smile For the Potential Customer from the proprietor of this eclectic one block from the beach.  And the Smile didn't fade when I asked him direction to Odeysea.

Well, long story short - I found Odeysea - purchased my glasses - put them in my car -feed the meter again and then WHILE I WAS IN TOWN I MIGHT AS WELL DO THE BOARDS - I headed to the boardwalk to soak up Summertime.

I walked to one end of the boardwalk and back again, seeing very few opportunities for pictures in the midday sun.  The beach was loaded with white, flabby bodies soaking up the first rays of Summertime.  Every now and then I spied a young man (or young woman) who was very trim - not a trace of a spare tire of Love Handles - and I wanted to smack them.  How dare they!  But, I managed to control my more base instincts and played the Cool Older Dude Who Is Still In Shape while I briskly walked the boards.

As I walked by Funland, the 250 year old amusement section of the boardwalk, I hear the screams and laughter of Summertime.  All the years I've been to Rehoboth and walked on the boardwalk I've never been to Funland.  Oh I've been to "Funland" before but that was the back room of the 247 bar in Philadelphia during the 70's.  This "funland" was another whole different ballgame (no pun intended).

So I go into Funland with my iPhone video running.  That is the video you see on this posting.  This is my first and probably only visit to Funland and what Going to the Beach is all about for the out of towners.  The video is pretty cool until the ending when tall young lady who was operating the rides was  mesmerized by my iPhone cover.  My cover is of me hugging my Mom.  She loved it!  Of course I forgot to turn off my iPhone video while we were having the conversation.  But hey, this is what spontaneity is all about isn't it?

On my way back I stopped by the Mexican restaurant where my friend The Cajun works as the Host with the Most.  Of course he wasn't there again today.  This is the fourth of fifth time I've stopped by and  he WASN'T WORKING.  I'm beginning to believe that his blog postings of his overworked status with the young folks and his AS (after shift) cocktails are a figment of his overwrought imagination.  I saw him working there last winter but I haven't seen him since.  I've been there during a Friday Night Dine out group, stopped by a couple of time around 11 in the morning when then open and two more times during the midday.  Nada.  Oh well.  Whatever world he's in, I wish him well.

So this was my First Day back on my regular schedule or work.  I have off every day except Wednesday and Thursdays.  The other days I can do whatever I damn well please.  I love it.  Especially in the summertime.  I think I may even hit the boards early tomorrow morning before the Horde descends.  I might just get some beautiful and idyllic pictures of this summertime resort where I am so fortunate to live.  I'm back baby!

The Boardwalk, Rehoboth Beach, Delaware June 6th, 2011

The Bluebirds of Happiness

Bluebird eggs May 1, 2011

At the beginning of May, when Bill and I left for our weeklong strip South, mama bluebird had just laid five perfectly oval blue eggs in the bluebird box in our backyard.  I was worried that the eggs wouldn't be there when we got back.  Last year when we left for our trip South, we left four young bluebirds in the box but when we came back the baby bluebirds and the next were gone, pulled out by the bored eight year old son of the Hispanic man who mowed our neighbor's lawn.  I vividly remember how angry, sad and disappointed I was that the stupid, mindless, thoughtless act of an unsupervised child destroyed a whole nest of baby bluebirds.  Especially after all the difficulty I had with keeping the sparrows out of that bluebird house.  The previous two years mama and papa bluebird had raised two sets of young bluebirds each season.  Last year they never came back.

Our Bluebird box in our backyard - home to generations of bluebirds

Thus it was with some apprehension that I left for vacation this year.  One thing, my neighbor no longer employed the Hispanic man to mow his lawn.  That kid is probably off somewhere else destroying something because of his bored curiosity.  I prefer not to think about it.

What was also ironic, that the bluebirds laid their eggs just as I was to begin a busy month of activity.  I knew once I returned from our trip south I would be working full-time at the hotel, until the new front desk clerk was trained.

I was very relieved when we returned from our trip and I saw that the bluebird nest was unharmed.  Mama and papa bluebird faithfully feed their young ones all day, every day.  In the past their were only four eggs so I could open the bluebird box and observe and record their growth.  This year, perhaps to make up for last year, mama and papa bluebird laid FIVE eggs in the tiny bluebird box.  I was able to open the bluebird box a few week before they got too big then I had to observe from afar.  I didn't want to take a chance of one of the baby bluebirds falling out of the box when I opened it.

Freshly hatched baby bluebirds

Growing baby bluebirds - the last time I opened the box to observe

Then yesterday, as I returned home from my last full-time shift at the hotel, I walked over to the bluebird box to see if I could still see a baby bluebird's mouth sticking out of the entrance to the bluebird box.  Much to my surprise (and delight), the bluebird box was empty!  The baby bluebirds were out.

Empty nest yesterday - they're gone!

Now wasn't that the perfect metaphor for my past month of hectic activity?  I began the month with the freshly laid bluebird eggs and ending the month with the baby bluebirds now having their freedom.  Just like me, I now have my freedom.

I love my job and hope to work at it as long as I can but I also want the freedom of enjoying and participating in my summertime activities.  I can't do that stuck behind the front desk at the hotel six days a week (then recovering the seventh day).  I am so happy to get back to my normal routine.  I'm back!

Frozen Lime Margherita

"Ah yes"

Well folks, can  you think of a better drink from a warm summer night?  I can't.  I just returned from our Friday Night Dine Out Group meeting.  This week we met at the La Quezalteca Mexican Restaurant in Millsboro, DE.  I like Mexican food.  I like this restaurant.  It is located at the intersection of Rts. 24 and 30 just before you enter Millsboro, Delaware.  It is a lovely early evening ride to meet friends for dinner.

Usually, I don't order an alcoholic beverage when dining out because I'm driving.  But tonight I made an exception.  After a long, hard day of work (in at 7 am this morning after getting off of my shift last night at 11 pm), I thought I deserved a little drinkie poo.  After I saw my friend Don V. order a Lime Margherita, I thought "Why not? What harm can one do?"  I am glad I ordered it.  It was delicious!  Just the thing to loosing my nerves and take my anxiety away.  One drink only though. Any more than that then I'm loopsy do.  I don't want to get that way, that's loss of control.  I do not like to lose control.

I have one more day of work before I resume my normal schedule of 3 to 11, on Wednesday and Thursday night.  That is tomorrow, Saturday.  I am so looking forward to getting back got my regular routine.  I've been off of it since our vacation at the beginning of May.  I've lost 12 pounds (most of it around my waist which is where I wanted to lose it) and my system (bowels) are all screwed up.  I just have to get 'regular' again in more way than one.

I love tonights like tonight.  Millsboro is a good 30 minutes away from my house.  I don't like to travel in the dark but on these long spring days, it is the perfect and relaxing time to travel.  And it is always good to get together with friends.  Dining out with friend is probably my third favorite activity (my second is gardening, and I'll let you guess what my first is).

Today was a good day and I'm just about ready to call it quits.  See you all again tomorrow.  Thank you Don for taking the pictures!

My friend Don who too the pictures enjoying HIS lime margherita

Strawberry Fields

Yes folks, that is how I spent my early morning hours, picking fresh strawberries.  My boss and his wife told me about this farm in Lewes that you can pick your own fresh strawberries.  He told me that about three weeks ago.  I've been working so much that I haven't had time to even look for the farm let alone spend an hour or so picking fresh strawberries.

I love strawberries.  I have them on my breakfast cereal every morning.  The strawberries I eat are those faux strawberries that they sell in the supermarket for $4.99 a plastic container.  The strawberries look like strawberries but they have the consistency and taste of the plastic container that they come in.  Well, after all, they had to make the long trip from the fields of sunny southern California.  We have our own sunny fields here on the eastern coastal shore of Delaware.  So I made an extra effort this morning and got my behind down to the Magee Farms on Wescoats Road in Lewes and picked me a batch of strawberries.

Picking the strawberries brought back memories when I used to help my Mom pick strawberries out of her personal strawberry patch at her home in Pennsylvania.  With the sun, warm breezes and fresh air, and memories of Mom, I had a super morning picking strawberries.

Now it's time to go to work again.  I work tonight then tomorrow at 7 am and the next day and then, hopefully I go back to my regular schedule.  The new guy is working out fine.  In fact I like him very much.  As my former co-worker says "Sometimes one door closes and another door opens."  It's going to be nice working with a normal person for a change.  She was such a drama queen.  I need to get back to normal.


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