Bill Mahrer Calls BS on Tom Brokaw

I'm glad someone else noticed what I've often seen the BS of the so-called "objective" reporters on TV.  Every time the Republicans spew out another blatant lie, a TV talking head like Tom Brokaw (the "old bullfrog" as I call him) comes out with this BS "both sides do it."  NO THEY DON'T TOM!

You know why they say it don't you?  They want access to the other side.  They think of themselves and want to make sure they have that interview with Romney or the RNC chairman Rience Preibus.  They know if they call them out on their blatant lies that the Romney's and the Preibus's of the political world will cut them off.

So to all the David Gregory's and Tom Brokaw's say "both sides do it",  stop YOUR lying.  No way, no how are the Democrats telling the vicious. blatant lies that the Romney's and the Priebus's are telling.

Retire Tom, hearing that bullfrog voice of your hurts my ears.

Where Do Old Gay Men Go? Part 2

Bottom right is my friends' apartment

Just got back from visiting my friends who temporarily moved into an apartment because they need more care.

Their situation isn't as bad as I thought.  For one thing they have plenty of light.  I am a firm believer that the amount of light we live in affects our disposition and moods.  I fear living in a dark place.  I would go crazy in a prison cell.  Fortunately my friends are living in a very nice apartment.

My friends at their dining room table - LOTS OF LIGHT!

Their situation is temporary until they can find a place of their own.  They are subletting this apartment from a connection of one of their friends from church.  They had to move to get closer in town for support that they will now need from their friends in their church.  Their church is the Metropolitan Community Church which is a gay orientated church.  It looks like they will get plenty of help from their church.  In fact someone was bringing a meal over for them at 5 o'clock today.  Tomorrow someone will come by to their apartment and taken them to church.

I don't go to church.  There is another potential support mechanism that I will not have in case I have issues as I get older.  For now Bill and I are supporting each other.  In fact, Bill is fixing the garage door opener as I type this blog entry. I'm cooking dinner.  No deliveries here.

The apartment my friends are in now is very comfortable and convenient.  I can see where living arrangements like that would be very advantageous to me if I should have problems in the future as I get older.  Of course I would prefer to stay in this mansion that we live in now but sometimes we don't have a choice, do we?

One thing though, I'm happy for my friends because they seem to be comfortable and well taken care of.

My friends - in a safe place well taken care of

Where Do Old Gay Men Go?

Bill on our deck today in the light

Recently friends of our were moved into an apartment.  Both of them have physical and mental problems.

This raises the question again of what happens to two old gay men who go downhill?  In the case of our friends the nephew(who has the power of attorney) of the one friend worked with two of the church members to move them out of their doublewide home on twenty-two acres of land.  Neither one of them can take care of themselves.  Their ages are 71 and 75.

Bill will be 84 in a few weeks and I'll be 71 in two months.  Both of us are in reasonably good health (both mental and physical) for two old men.  Of course we have our aches and pains but nothing approaching the mental and physical problems of our friends.  Who knows, maybe we'll be there someday.  But I don't think so nor does Bill.  We keep our minds active and get plenty of exercise.  Hopefully that helps in keeping at bay mental and physical decline.

Yesterday Bill and I took a ride to the apartment complex where are friends were placed.  All the apartments looked alike.  The only difference was the number on the door.  The buildings reminded me of one of those prisons on MSNBC's program "Lockup."  Yes, they looked like prisons.  Bill said "It looks like a place where you go to die."  Needless to say, it was a depressing visit.

The only window we could see was on the one side and it faced the parking lot.  Their "Unit" (which is part of their address) looked like a prison cell from the outside.  I would go crazy if I had to live in such a "unit."  Bill felt the same way.

We live in a beautiful development about six miles north of Rehoboth Beach, on the bayside.  Our house is spacious with a LOT of windows.  I need a lot of light to function.  If I lived in a "unit" like our friends I would become so depressed.  I get depressed in winter with the shorter days and lack of light. In our home in Pennsylvania I couldn't even work in our finished basement room because it didn't have natural daylight.  I need light.

We also have a huge back yard.  Both Bill and I like the change of seasons and all the activity that goes on in our backyard from the first birds in spring to all the plants and flowers.  We need this life to live.  Neither one of us can imagine living in a "unit" with one window to a parking lot.

Bill and I have made a pact.  We're not going anywhere.  The only time we're leaving this home is feet first.

Echocardiogram Test

This morning I took my first of a series of tests to seek the cause of my irregular heartbeat.

Today's test was an echocardiogram.

Table ready for Ron

I was almost late for my appointment!  I couldn't find the location where I was scheduled to take my test this morning at 9:30 am.  There are so many medical offices here in Lewes and Rehoboth Beach, after a while they all look alike.  After stopping in the wrong office, I finally found the right office.  Of course my heart was racing when I went into the office.  I hate to be late for appointments.  I usually like to arrive at my appointments at least a half an hour before the appointment.  I got there this morning with fifteen minutes to spare.

My echocardiogram monitor

They took me right away and ushered me into a side room with the requisite table (? - what do you call that bed thingy that you lie on when you go into medical offices)?  The medical assistant asked me to remove all my clothing from the top and lie on the meat rack table.  Thank goodness the room was warm.

I took off my shirt and t-shirt and bared my flab (I don't care at this time of my life) and reclined on the table.  I was ready.

The Old Guy ready for his echocardiogram

The lady came in (I forget her name) and placed all the electrodes on my chest.  Thank goodness they were  not cold.  Nothing like cold electrodes on my old, flabby torso to stimulate me in the morning.

After the test started I heard this "chuck, chuck, slap" sound.  I asked her "Is that me?"  She said "That's your valve."  WOW!  That motor (my heart) has been going on for the past seventy years?  WOW!  I have to tell you I was VERY IMPRESSED.

We take so much for granted.  At least I do.  I couldn't stop thinking about how impressive the sound of my heart pumping blood was.  WOW!

I asked her if everything was working all right.  She said "The doctor will tell you." Well, I don't know what that means.  Hopefully this is routine.

After I finished and wiped all the grease off of my chest I said "goodbye" to one and all in the office.

Next up, an appointment next week for a Halter Monitor.  That is a contraption that I'll have to wear for 24 hours to monitor my heartbeat.

Fun times.

Mitt Romney - Shame

I never did like Mitt Romney but I didn't think my opinion of him could have sunk any lower than it has now after his craven political act yesterday of attacking President Obama with facts that he knew to be false.  What made his act even more reprehensible was that he doubled down on it when confronted with the facts.  This man is not fit to be dog catcher, let alone president of the United States.  Mitt Romney will never be president of the United States.  See here.

Have you no shame Mitt Romney?

Romney Sinks to a New Low

Mitt Romney - the empty, opportunistic suit that is running for president

Just when you think that Mitt Romney cannot sink any lower,  he proved last night that he could and did.

Republican presidential candidate fired off cheap, political shots at the president of the United States even before we learned that United States ambassador to Libya was killed by a mob who attacked the American embassy in Benghazi, Libya yesterday.  Romney played the role of an opportunist seeking to exploit a national tragedy.  Romney made his statement even before the next of kin of the four embassy employees, including our ambassador Christopher Stephens,  were informed of their deaths.  See here.

I am ashamed that a soulless, crass, political opportunist like Mitt Romney, who uses the death of a heroic ambassador and three others as an opportunity to score political points,  is the face we are showing the world.

Voter Suppression - Delaware Style

Voting location Cape Henlopen High School lobby with the requisite Old Doddering Fool in front of me

Hey Karl Rove and all you tea bagging Republicans who want to suppress the vote:  check out the way Delaware is suppressing voter turnout!

I just got back from voting in the Delaware primary.  Whoever came up with this plan for my new voting place was genius!  Guess what they did.  Whereas I used to vote in nearby (emphasis on "NEARBY") Brittingham Elementary School in Milton, now I have to vote at Cape Henlopen High School on Kings Highway in Lewes.  Yep! Cape Henlopen High School ON A SCHOOL DAY ON ONE OF THE BUSIEST ROADS IN SUSSEX COUNTY.  Whoever came up with his idea was a genius!  I almost turned around when I saw the line of cars waiting to get into the school this morning.  Were they voting?  Oh no, they were the kiddies going to school.  Some of the cars were parents taking their kids to school, the other cars were the kiddies themselves.

Entrance to voting location - Cape Henlopen High School

After waiting about 20 minutes in backup traffic I finally got into the high school parking lot.  ALL THE PARKING SPACES WERE FULL!  GENIUS!  I almost turned around and went home.  But I was determined to vote for the gay candidates running in the Democratic primary so I bottled the steam that was coming out of my ears, gritted my teeth and persevered looking for a parking spot on the way edges of the school parking lot.

I think I see a spot only to find I'm going down a one way road which is block with traffic cones manned by a black Marine in fatigues.  "Good morning sir, how are you?"  (be careful what you say Ron, he has a weapon) How am I?  I AM FURIOUS!  Slowly I say, "Where can I park?"  He indicates a spot way to the back of the lot, near the football field.  Oh, okay I can walk but "how am I going to get their SINCE YOUR PARKING CONES ARE BLOCKING ME?"  He says he will remove the cones and LET ME THROUGH.  Thank you Jesus.

The Scooter Lady (with the BLACK HAIR) and the Old Doddering Fool and Wifey Poo holding door for Scooter Lady at the voting place 

So, I weave my way to the back of the parking lot, all the while Bill (who just HAS TO COME WITH ME EVEN THOUGH HE's NOT VOTING) is giving me advice from the Peanut Gallery.

I park.  I get out and walk the mile or so to the high school entrance.  I'm behind an old doddering fool (see the OLD MAN in the black and white stripped pullover who is in all my pictures).  I'm greeted by the People Who Always Hang Out At The Entrance Of The Voting Places.  They seem so glad to see me but in reality they couldn't give a shit about me, all they want is my vote.  I'm in no mood for pleasantries this morning.  All I want to do is get around that Old Doddering Fool and vote.

Next thing I know a woman in one of those personal scooters (or whatever they call them),  sneaks up behind me and almost runs over my foot.  She has her little basket on her personal scooter.  Oh how cute.

The People Who Always Hand Out At The Entrance Of The Voting Places all seem to know her.  Oh joy, we're going to have Old Home Week.  Lots of "Oohing and aching"  and "good to see you!" and all that phony bull crap. Can it lady with the too dark dyed black hair and get out of my way.

I finally get into the lobby of the school where the polling tables are set up.  I take out my iPhone and take my requisite picture.  Right away an officious looking man approaches me with a scowl on his face ("What?  I'm not allowed to take a picture?") He says to me "Can I help you?" I answer "Yes, I WOULD LIKE TO VOTE."  He thinks he has me now when he asks me "Can I see your voting card?" I wiped the smirk off of his face when I whip out my voting card. He gives me one of THOSE looks and points me to a nearby table and wouldn't you know it?  I'm behind not only the Doddering Old Fool who is trying to figure out where he puts his signature on the registration sheet (he's all confused with the upside down thing so the poll worker can read his name - I've dealt with these people before when I used to work the polls when I lived in Pennsylvania).  Finally he figures it out and shuffles off to one of the voting booths.

I'm next!  I sign my name even though my printed name is upside down (see the previous paragraph for the explanation) and I am pointed towards the next voting booth.  Would you believe it but the woman with the pitch black dyed hair and the personal scooter is IN THAT BOOTH!  Of course she is standing but that annoying scooter is sticking out under the curtain.  God, get me out of here!

Finally, her skinny phony ass finishes voting and she astrides her scooter and scoots out, waving to one and all like Queen Elizabeth II making her farewell exit from a public event.

Time for me to vote!  I WALK into the voting booth, curtain drawn and look for my favorite gay DEMOCRATIC candidates.  I push those electronic buttons.  I vote for the only name I know who is running for senator, Thomas Carper.  There are three candidates running for state treasurer or auditor, I forget which.  I know none of them.  One of them is a woman so I vote for her.  When in doubt always vote for the woman or a person whose name ends in a vowel.  That has always been my rule when voting and I don't know the candidates.  Let the women in and non Anglo-Saxon white males.  If there was a way to discern who was gay I would always vote for them too.  I'm a firm believer in breaking up the Karl Rove/George Bush/Dick Cheney/Mitt Romney/Paul Ryan, et al white homophobe male stranglehold on elected offices.

I push the big green VOTE button.  I'm done!  Now to get the hell out of there, past all the students shuffling through the lobby with their backpacks and full uniform, combat, camouflage fatigues. Excuse me but WHAT IS THAT ANYWAY?  I must really be an Old Fuddy Duddy but when I went to high school the only time we wore costumes was on Halloween.

So I weave my way through all the fashion conscious students (or pupils, there is a difference you know - as was explained to me many years ago when I went to school students were there to learn whereas pupils only attended school - see there Miss Hurlock something you said stayed with me all these years).

I walk the mile or so back to my car parked at the FAR END OF THE PARKING LOT NEXT TO THE FOOTBALL FIELD and face my next challenge - how to get the hell out of there.

After encountering several dead ends, I finally found myself on Kings Highway.  I zipped up to Rt. 1, past all the orange wheelbarrows (DelDot is in the midst of road repaving at night - lucky me I get to thread the needle every night when I come home from work at the hotel while they're laying asphalt).

I bitch to Bill about how my head is about to explode because I couldn't find someone to blast for the totally STUPID MOVE to have the voting location at A HIGH SCHOOL ON ONE OF THE BUSIEST ROADS IN SUSSEX COUNTY ON A SCHOOL DAY!

Hey, I love living in Southern Delaware but let me tell you folks, this was a disaster this morning.  I hope to hell they get their act straightened out by Election Day.  At least the school will be closed (I think) and I won't have to see all those wannabee student/soldiers in their Halloween costumes.

  The Annoying People Who Always Hang Out At The Entrance To Polling Locations