Laurel Flea Market

Bill checking some of the "goods" for sale at the Laurel Flea Market this morning

Just got in from taking Bill (and myself) for a ride around southern Sussex County this morning.  The temperatures are supposed to get up to 104 degrees today so I figured if I wanted to get out today I better do it early.

We left about 8 o'clock for the car wash in Milton.  I am obsessive about keeping my buggy car clean.  I had road scum on my car from a couple of thunderstorms the past few weeks.  I had to have that film on my shiny, red Subaru.  Got that off this morning at the car wash.  With this heat, even though it was early in the morning, it didn't take too long to dry off my car.


Then, since it was still early I thought I would take a ride to the Laurel Flea Market in Laurel, Delaware which is way down at the southern end of our country.  I didn't want to drive through the circle in Georgetown so I thought I would take the "back way."  Well, you KNOW how that turned out.  We ended up going through the speed trap that is Ellendale, Delaware (no cops or ticket thank goodness even though the speed limit was 25 MPH - I felt like I could have walked faster).

After Ellendale, the road took a sharp turn to either the left or right.  I wanted to get on 13.  Delaware only has three main roads: Rt 1, Rt. 113 and Rt. 13.  The "thirteens" I always get mixed up, I don't know which one comes first.

So of course as is my predilection when faced with making a decision on directions, I took the wrong turn.  Well, to make a long story short, we ended up in the Scrapple Capital of the world, Bridgeville, Delaware, home of Rapa Scrapple.  I love scrapple, used to eat it cold and raw when I was a kid (you all should really fry it though).  I haven't eaten much scrapple since I moved to Delaware though.  I don't eat big breakfasts like I used to (only a bowl of Corn Chex with bananas or strawberries).  No more with all the fried breakfast goodies clogging up my arteries.  I passed on the scrapple this morning, even though I was in the CAPITAL.

The outside tables at the Laurel Flea Market this morning (that's Bill with the blue hat)
Not too many vendors setting up tables outside in this heat

Further on down the road we finally found Rt. 13.  South on 13 about 25 miles is the fabulous Laurel Flea Market.  Folks, the Laurel Flea Market is HUGE!  Most of the vendors are native Sussex County rednecks (a bred all to themselves folks) and our local farm labor pool and dependents, the Guatemalans. Our Little Brown People aren't Mexicans, they're from Central America.  And let me say right now, they are all hard workers and keep our economy going down here in Lower Slower.  I'm not one of these immigrant bashers.  Every day I see these men (who I don't think a one is over 5'4" tall) working in this blazing heat, working their landscaping chores for us privileged Yankees.  I go out of my development in the morning (like this morning) I see them working mowing and trimming the lawns of my neighbors.  I see them working along side the highways.  This morning I saw them at the Laurel Flea Market on their day off (for some of them anyway) with their families. Does my heart good to see these folks working on their American Dream.  I'll take them any day over the spoiled and lazy retired Washingtonians who get way too much in pension benefits and whose only concern is at what restaurant are they going to eat next? Was it really necessary for me to say the last comment?  Perhaps not but I did anyway.  Felt good.

So anyway, Bill and I meandered around the flea market looking at all that trash that these people are selling to each other.  We're soaking up the Local Flavor.  Of course we look like what we were, a couple of ass wipes slumming.

One of the inside booths:  "Bras Galore!"  - something we have absolutely no use for

We pulled into our flowered bedecked driveway a few minutes before 10 a.m., before the heavy hand of heat and humidity of the day begins to strangle us.  I refreshed the bird baths and now I'm going to make my own version of Panera Black Bean soup.  I don't plane to go out the rest of the day except to change the water in the bird baths.  This hot weather is a killer for the birds.  I look out my bedroom window and see the poor things with their beaks half open, panting for air.  I'm glad I have a lot of bushes around my house because that is where they take refuge during the height of the heat of the day.

If you're also in this heat wave, stay in a cool place.  It is dangerous out there.  I'm still dizzy from this morning's escapade.

Wilting!

Bill in his sauna this morning

Oh yeah, we're sweltering under this heat wave like much of the country.  No break for us here on the coastal shores of southern Delaware.   Usually when the rest of the country get slapped with a heat wave, we lucky folks here on the Atlantic coast smugly bask in ocean breezes.  Not this summer folks.  Oh no, we are wilting.


Bill upped the time our backyard irrigation system is on from 25 minutes to an hour.  The birds love it!  You know this hot weather is hard on our critter friends?  I feel so bad when I see at the birds at my planter oval panting, waiting for their turn at one of my three bird baths.  I even put out extra saucers of water that the birds now use to relief from the heat.  I have to change the water five and six times a day.  I love doing this.  This is my volunteer effort.

The days are starting to get shorter.  I noticed it tonight when I took my walk in the Oyster Rocks development behind where we live.  Usually I can walk until 9 o'clock until the moon shines in the sky above.  Tonight that old moon showed up at about 8:40 pm.  Won't be long now until the Purple Martins in our backyard raise the last of their young this season and take off for their long journey to South America to spend the winter.  I'm sort of looking forward to fall and winter.  Not that I don't love summer, I do but I appreciate the change in seasons.  I don't think I would ever be happy living in part of the country where the seasons didn't change.

Tomorrow the temps are forecast to hit 104 degrees.  Bill and I made our Walmart Run early this morning so we don't have to go out tomorrow at all.  The only reason I have to go out tomorrow is to change the bird baths.  By the way, why do the birds always poop in their birdbaths?  Just asking.

Stay cool!

Russell "Rusty" Edward Henman

Russell Edward "Rusty" Henman
June 16, 1978 - July 1, 2012

Still in a bit in shock over the death of Russell "Rusty" Henman, a man I met only once but felt an immediate connection with.  Many times when someone dies, the accolades pour in about what a wonderful person the deceased was.  Haven't we all wondered at times at how true were all those wonderful statements?  Well, I can say for certainty, even though I only met Russ once (but followed his Facebook account ever since our meeting in October of 2009), that this man was one of those rare individuals that brought a smile to everyone's face.  They say the "good die young."  Russ was one of the good ones.

Here is my Find a Grave memorial tribute to this man.  I know Russ is in Heaven right now bringing smiles to the angels' faces.  Rest in peace big guy.

Russ

Russ Henman in K-Mart parking lot October 11, 2009

This morning I've been thinking long and hard about what to post today for the Fourth.  Of course the obvious is something patriotic.  I post a picture of the flag.  Post something about how great it is to live in this country, which for all its faults (and we have plenty) is the best country on this planet.  But a recent event keeps intruding in my mind that I feel I have to post.  And that is the untimely death of a kind and gentle man named Russell Henman.

I didn't know Russ well but I did know him.

Sunday morning, October 11, 2009 I parked my car in the K-Mart parking lot to wait for the Camp Rehoboth sponsored bus to take me and others to the National Equality March in Washington D.C.

I was early.  There was on other car in the parking lot.  A big guy got out of his car and walked over to me and introduced himself to me.  He said "Hi, I'm Russ." I was somewhat taken by surprise because most of the gay community down here in the Rehoboth Beach area is pretty cliquish and not prone to introduce themselves to a stranger unless that stranger has been prescreened by their friends first.

The first thing I thought was "This guy is trying to pick me up."  That's what we gay guys think when a stranger approaches us.  Well, he wasn't my type because he was a big "Teddy Bear" kind of guy and a bit on the "gay" side.  By the way, I make no apologies for saying someone is "a bit on the gay side."  You all understand what I mean.  I don't always abide by the current political correctness rules.

After exchanging some small talk I realized that this guy was just being friendly and not on the make.  There is a difference.  And again, I was surprised because of his open friendly attitude.  I liked him.

I asked if I could take his picture.  He said "Sure!  Here, let me stand beside my car." He posed and I took his picture.  I asked him for his e-mail address so I could send the picture to him.  He suggested his Facebook account.  We became Facebook friends.

That was two years ago.  I never saw him in person again but I often saw his postings on Facebook.  I could tell from his postings that Russ was a very popular guy.  And I knew why, because he was a truly nice guy.  No false airs about him.  He reminded me a lot of my longtime friend Big Bob.

Me and my friend "Big Bob"

Big Bob, who I just returned from a visit this morning, I met when I was in the Army in 1960.  We have been good friends ever since.  Big Bob was also a big guy (hence the nickname "Big Bob", duh).  Although Bob was gay (something I never knew while we were friends in the Army), I wasn't sexually attracted to him nor he to me.  However, I did like his personality.  Bob was and is a truly nice guy.  No false airs about him.  Big Bob is the kind of guy who welcomes strangers, just like Russ welcomed me that day in the K-Mart parking lot.

Yesterday, I saw a story on the front page of our local newspaper, The Cape Gazette.

"Cyclist dies in crash outside Rehoboth Beach"

I casually looked at the story because there are a lot of cyclists in Rehoboth during this busy season.  I worry about them because of the heavy traffic and crazy drivers.  I limit my travel into Rehoboth because of all the cyclists.  

When I saw the name "Henman", I recognized the name.  My first thought was "Oh no, this couldn't be Russ."   I read further.  It was Russ.  

A wave of sadness immediately swept over me.  Even though I didn't know Russ well, I felt an immediate loss.  

Russ was hit from behind after leaving a friend after 2:00 a.m. in the morning. Earlier he had spent time at a local gay bar then, after the bar went with a friend to get a pizza and a soda and talk to his friend.  After their conversation he got on his bike to go to his new home across the busy Route 1.  A bartender, who was later proven to be drunk, hit him from behind.  He carried Russ's body on the hood of his car for 400 feet before hitting a curb which propelled Russ's body to the ground.  Russ died at the scene. 

The driver of the car that hit Russ attempted to flee the scene of the accident but Russ's bicycle was caught under his car.  He stopped and tried to remove the bicycle.  That's when the police apprehended him.

I don't mean to make the tragedy of Russ losing his life about me.  That is not why I wrote this post.  My purpose is to illustrate how fleeting life is.  We're here one minute and just like that, we're gone.  

This is why I believe that we should live every moment like it is our last.  Of course be reasonable about it, don't break the bank account fulfilling your Bucket List but do live by doing what you want to do.  Be kind to people and animals.  Don't waste your time on activities or people who bring you down.  

Russ may have had a short life but from what I see now, the outpouring of love from his Facebook friends, his many friends in the gay and straight community of Rehoboth and his many other friends, I would say Russ lived a good life.

This kind and gentle man will be missed greatly by many but he will not be forgotten.  

Rest in peace my friend.  

Happy Anniversary!

Bill and Ron - 48 years today

Forty-eight years ago today, on a rainy Friday night at the Westbury Bar, a gay bar at the corner of 15th and Spruce Streets in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania I decided to go over to the other side of the bar and thank the man who had been sending me drinks for the past two months every time he saw me in the bar.

Bill Kelly - 1963 - the man who kept sending me drinks from the other side of the bar

I wasn't particularly attracted to this man even though he was very handsome.  He wasn't "my type."  Even though he had been trying to get my attention that he was interested in meeting me by sending me drinks via his friend Jerry the bartender, I was more interested in Jerry than I was him.  I especially wasn't interested in meeting this man because he was very popular in the Westbury and it was quite obvious that I was "next on his list."  I had no intention of just being another notch on his bed post.

Me, with cigarette in hand, at my efficiency apartment in Coatesville, just prior to going out to the Westbury bar with my friends Ron and Ed who came by to pick me up 

Usually when I went to the bar I was with my friends Ron and Ed.  However, this night for some reason I can't remember I was by myself.  I remember the first time that Jerry the bartender sat a drink in front of me and said to me "This is from the gentleman over there" which he indicated with a nod of his head.  I looked over and I saw this handsome man with a wide grin on his face and my first thought was "Oh no, I'm not that easy."  My friends and I had a chuckle over the whole situation because they too knew me and knew this situation was all wrong for me.  They knew I wasn't looking for an older man (he was 35 to my 22) and I definitely wasn't a pickup for a drink.

As the months went by, my erstwhile suitor would invariably send a drink my way, sometimes two a night.  He was unrelenting as we were by making fun of him behind his back.  Of course I took the drinks (I'm no fool and besides I had little money) but I had no plans to go any further than that.

Then, on this rainy Saturday night, July 3rd, 1964 my suitor sent me another drink.  My friends weren't with me and I did feel a bit guilty for never having thanked him for the many drinks he had sent over for the past few months.  I could at least be polite, that's the way my Mother raised me.  Believe me, I had no other intention than of just thanking him and moving back to my regular spot and looking for Mr. Right.

So I move from my "spot" (we gay guys all have our "spot" when cruising in gay bars) to the other side of the bar near the Skeet Ball machine which was his "spot."  He sees me coming towards him.  A small (knowing smile) creases his face.  I stop in front of him and say "Thanks for the drink." 


Now, I don't remember exactly what he said but what I do remember was he wasn't at all like I thought he would be, arrogant and pushy.  In fact he was pretty damn nice.  And he was even better looking in person.  Uh huh.  Well, well.  His name was Bill Kelly.  I decided to stay a while and chat.  He was interesting.

Me with a staged shot changing a flat (I don't know how to change a flat, are you kidding?) on our first road trip Skyline Drive, Virginia - 1964

Yes, I succumbed to his charms and did go him with him that night.  He lived in a garden apartment in Pennsauken, New Jersey. I lived a furnished efficiency apartment in Coatesville, Pennsylvania, 52 miles and an hour away from Pennsauken.

I stayed with him that weekend.  Bill drove me home to my apartment in Coatesville, Pennsylvania on Sunday.  I had no car. I had depended on my friends Ron and Ed for transportation to the Westbury Bar for my weekend outings looking for Mr. Right. That summer weekend my life changed forever.

For the next seven months Bill would make the one hundred mile round trip and pick me up at my apartment in Coatesville, PA on Friday to spend the weekend with him at his apartment in Pennsauken, NJ.  On Sunday he would make another one hundred mile round trip to return me to my apartment in Coatesville, PA.   Who else would do that for me?  No one.  Absolutely no one in this whole wide world.  I do believe I met my Prince Charming who treated me like a prince.  Every gay boy's dream come true. Mine just came true.  And has been true ever since, except for maybe a few little "bumps" here and there, for the past forty-eight years.

Me at our first house in Philadelphia - 1969 - our fifth anniversary

Sometime around Christmas of that year Bill asked me to move in with him.  I always wanted to get a job in Philadelphia and I told him that I would once I got a job in Philadelphia.  The following year in February, through the help of my friend Ron who worked at Girard Bank in Philadelphia, I got a job at Girard Bank.   I quit my job in Coatesville, left my apartment and moved in with Bill at the Penn Manor apartment complex where he lived in Pennsauken, New Jersey.  And as they say, "the rest is history."

Bill in the living room of our house in Philadelphia - 1969

So what have the past forty-eight years been like?  Well, to quote the first president Bush after he left office  and he was asked about his presidency he said "It's been quite a ride."  And indeed it has folks.

Bill Kelly, my friend/lover/partner/spouse of the past forty-eight years has literally been the best thing that has ever happened in my life.

Today, the anniversary of our meeting forty-eight years ago, finds us to both way past our prime.  In fact, we're both OLD MEN now.  But you know what?  We have a love that is undying.  I know I am one of the lucky few in this world to have been granted the blessing of meeting and sharing my live with someone who truly cares for me and someone I care for very much.  And to me friends, that is what life is all about. Love.

Bill's card to me this morning

Below are photos of Bill and me in 1951 when he was 23 years old and in the Army and stationed in Bamberg, Germany and I was a 10 year old third grader at the East Ward Elementary School. Can you imagine if I met this man when I was 10 years old?  Oh yes, I knew I was gay then and I would have definitely fallen head over heels in love with this man.  Twelve years later I did.

Bill, my Prince Charming - Bamberg, Germany - 1951
Bill was 23 years old and in the Army

Me - third grade East Ward Elementary School, Downingtown, PA - 1951 - 10 years old

Anderson Cooper Comes Out!

Anderson with BF Kathy Griffin

Well it happened folks, Anderson Cooper finally came out as gay.  Anderson, as one gay man who came out (in 1963) to another, let me tell you this:

• You will immediately feel a tremendous burden lifted from your shoulders.  
• You will be surprised by how many people who will still support and love you.
• You will also be surprised by those few who will distance themselves from you.
• But the main thing, you will now know what it truly means to be free.  It's a damn good feeling.

Bravo to you Anderson!

Here is the e-mail that Anderson sent to his friend Andrew Sullivan in which he announces that he is gay.

Andrew, as you know, the issue you raise is one that I've thought about for years. Even though my job puts me in the public eye, I have tried to maintain some level of privacy in my life. Part of that has been for purely personal reasons. I think most people want some privacy for themselves and the people they are close to.

But I've also wanted to retain some privacy for professional reasons. Since I started as a reporter in war zones 20 years ago, I've often found myself in some very dangerous places. For my safety and the safety of those I work with, I try to blend in as much as possible, and prefer to stick to my job of telling other people’s stories, and not my own. I have found that sometimes the less an interview subject knows about me, the better I can safely and effectively do my job as a journalist.

I've always believed that who a reporter votes for, what religion they are, who they love, should not be something they have to discuss publicly. As long as a journalist shows fairness and honesty in his or her work, their private life shouldn't matter. I’ve stuck to those principles for my entire professional career, even when I’ve been directly asked “the gay question,” which happens occasionally. I did not address my sexual orientation in the memoir I wrote several years ago because it was a book focused on war, disasters, loss and survival. I didn't set out to write about other aspects of my life.

Recently, however, I’ve begun to consider whether the unintended outcomes of maintaining my privacy outweigh personal and professional principle. It’s become clear to me that by remaining silent on certain aspects of my personal life for so long, I have given some the mistaken impression that I am trying to hide something - something that makes me uncomfortable, ashamed or even afraid. This is distressing because it is simply not true.

I’ve also been reminded recently that while as a society we are moving toward greater inclusion and equality for all people, the tide of history only advances when people make themselves fully visible. There continue to be far too many incidences of bullying of young people, as well as discrimination and violence against people of all ages, based on their sexual orientation, and I believe there is value in making clear where I stand.

The fact is, I'm gay, always have been, always will be, and I couldn’t be any more happy, comfortable with myself, and proud.

I have always been very open and honest about this part of my life with my friends, my family, and my colleagues. In a perfect world, I don't think it's anyone else's business, but I do think there is value in standing up and being counted. I’m not an activist, but I am a human being and I don't give that up by being a journalist.

Since my early days as a reporter, I have worked hard to accurately and fairly portray gay and lesbian people in the media - and to fairly and accurately portray those who for whatever reason disapprove of them. It is not part of my job to push an agenda, but rather to be relentlessly honest in everything I see, say and do. I’ve never wanted to be any kind of reporter other than a good one, and I do not desire to promote any cause other than the truth.

Being a journalist, traveling to remote places, trying to understand people from all walks of life, telling their stories, has been the greatest joy of my professional career, and I hope to continue doing it for a long time to come. But while I feel very blessed to have had so many opportunities as a journalist, I am also blessed far beyond having a great career.

I love, and I am loved.

In my opinion, the ability to love another person is one of God’s greatest gifts, and I thank God every day for enabling me to give and share love with the people in my life. I appreciate your asking me to weigh in on this, and I would be happy for you to share my thoughts with your readers. I still consider myself a reserved person and I hope this doesn’t mean an end to a small amount of personal space. But I do think visibility is important, more important than preserving my reporter’s shield of privacy.

Me too.

 Anderson Cooper with his partner Benjamin Maisani, the co-owner of New York City gay bars Eastern Bloc and Bedlam. 

Cooper becomes at least the sixth, though by far the most high-profile, openly gay anchor in the news business. He joins CNN colleagues Don Lemon and Jane Velez-Mitchell, as well as MSNBC's Thomas Roberts, Rachel Maddow and Steve Kornacki.

Too Hot To Squat

Unknown young man taking a siesta at Walmart this morning

OMG!  I just read the temperature and it says 102 degrees!  OMG!  No wonder I was feeling faint after planting a few flowers.  My tee shirt was soaked to my skin.  I just took Shower Number Two for the day.

This morning Bill and I took off real early for the Walmart in Rehoboth.  I had a few items to pick up and I didn't fancy fighting the heat and traffic later in the day.  At 7:30 the temps were already in the 90's.  And the humidity, let me tell you I don't know how ANYONE can stand living in Florida during the summer.  I would be knocked out just like this guy was at the entrance to the Walmart this morning.

I'm showered, cooled off and in the house now and this is where I plan to stay the rest of the day.  I don't want to make this a Three Shower Day like Thursday.  Yes folks, I took THREE showers Thursday after my friend Lar came down for his annual birthday celebration. I treat him to lunch and an old timer photo.  Perhaps you saw it, we were pirates this year.  Me with that big goofy hat.  I better stick to cowboys in any future old timer photo shoots.  I can pull that off better with my grizzled old look that I'm stuck with now.  Oh fleeting youth, where have you gone?

I'm not scheduled to go into work until Wednesday.  The operative word here is "scheduled."  Don't even bother calling me Mike (my manager) when my fellow part-timer calls in with her latest emergency.   I say "No" this time.  It's not easy for me to say "No" but sometimes it is necessary when the extra effort is not appreciated and I'm looked upon as a fool.  The worm turns.

Stay cool folks!