If We Were Vampires

"It's knowing that this can't go on forever / Likely one of us will have to spend some days alone / Maybe we'll get forty years together / But one day I'll be gone or one day you'll be gone."

I think of this lyric a lot. I have since I first heard this song years ago.

Today 710 and I hit 'forty years together'. 

I'd say 'ugh' but that's more of a thought of time passing (and time left) than with whom I'm passing said time. 

40 years is a fuck of a long time. There is just no way around that. I was probably wearing two Swatch watches at the time. The horror!

I know I'm a better man / person because of 710. Better half, if you will. He is kinder, nicer, gentler than I. He is funnier than you'd expect, which kind of makes him even more funny due to that. 

Over the years here, I've said we had tough and trying times with the relationship. That was a long time ago, but things that have stuck with us from which we've learned - and learned not to forget or take for granted. 

I always feel weird when someone asks how long we've been together. You can see them start to do math in their head. I was 21; he 24. Obviously, at the time, we didn't know it would be a lifetime thing. Who does at that age?

When we married in 2010, the vows you've heard so many times about sickness/health, richer/poorer etc actually meant something. We had lived all of that in the 25 years we had been together before tying the knot. Couples who get married after being together for 2-3 years and saying those things truly are going through the motions. Those words brought us to tears. 

"Maybe time running out is a gift / I'll work hard 'til the end of my shift / And give you every second I can find / And hope it isn't me who's left behind."

I have also said in this here blog, I want to go first, just like the lyric says. It is 100% selfish and I recognize that. I try not to think about the time we have left, but hitting 60 just makes me feel old(er). We talk about age more. I don't know how we survive without each other - though billions of other couples have done it in the past. I try not to dwell on that. 

710 is confident he'll go first, just due to my genetics. He's usually right about so much, so here is hoping he is wrong on this one. 

The idea is to spend our time in the present and loving and appreciating each other - even though I know I make it difficult. There is a LOT of eye rolling on his part - and it is deserved. 

As you probably know, our anniversary / wedding dates do not match up. I somewhat regret that, but what are you gonna do?  January dates suck mostly due to the weather. 

We have nothing planned for today. Absolutely nothing. 

We had opted for a nice dinner out, as we rarely do that anymore. But it will be below 0°F. That does not sound like fun. And I think we would have done it, but Shep has a minor procedure at the vet tomorrow, so we are spending the evening with him. 

We will attempt dinner this weekend. I think we know which restaurant we will want to patronize. 

I'd like to say we are on our way to closing in on the Golden Anniversary, but we'll also be past 70 years old.........and that is just weirding me out.  I'm assuming if we are still ambulatory then, we'll do somethign special. 

You won't be able to hold me to that though. 

I don't often do this, but here is a link to the blog title song that goes along with the lyrics. 

The title image is thanks for Meredith, and is from November 2000. 

Song by: Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit

Love is the Answer

I just found this Washington Post story to be rather sad. 

For those who can't link to it, as you might not subscribe, in a nutshell a man comes out at the age of 85 - in his obituary. 

A fire fighter, a friend, a strong family background - and could never tell anyone he was gay. 

I mean, he did. And some people knew, but never discussed - at least with him. You know friends and family (even co-workers) talked once he was out of the room. 

Edward Ryan even had a partner for a quarter of a century. Rarely were they seen together and never at Ryan's family events. They would attend the partner's family events, but always taking separate cars. 

I totally get that some families will not accept a same-sex relationship. And I get that some families are close. But these things are not mutually exclusive. They can't be. They shouldn't be.  Having the feeling the family will shun or judge you for who you love totally fractures the idea that your family is truly close - or even truly your family. 

Blood is just blood. 

I always say that Family Planning should mean you get to plan that family - not just be thrust into it. You don't see me talking to 2-3 of my sisters since my parents passed. I feel zero need. There is not an ounce of regret or second thoughts on this. I even successfully avoided three of them at a viewing for a cousin of ours. I guessed - incorrectly - that they'd go to the afternoon viewing hours, not the morning. Yet I made it in and out without exchanging a syllable. 

That said, 710 and my relationship might have been discussed behind our backs - who can know for certain......except you know it. But we had relationships with each other's families and I was welcomed by his, and he by mine. I still attest that mine liked him more than me. And it's valid, for sure. 

Still, Ed Ryan and his partner lived a life of covering tracks and secrecy that, while by his own words had "25 wonderful years together", the omissions had to be exhausting over time. 

But in his obit, he himself writes that he'd always been gay and was sorry he didn't have the courage to come out to his family - afraid of being ostracized. 

With his obituary, he says he is at peace now being able to say it. At 85. 

I'm happy for him, but I'm so sad for him too. He probably doesn't want that pity or sadness, but I want the younger generations to be able to be themselves - whomever that might be, and with whomever they might love. 

Song by: Todd Rundgren

39

Laurie Anderson once spoke: "days go by.....endlessly.....endlessly pulling you........into the future....days go by...". 

She's not wrong. 

As an unconscious (subconscious?) rule, I think I don't delve into the past too too much here. There are somethings I dredge up as anecdotes to tie other, more current things together. 

With that said, now and then I throw a few things in from long ago. Though this older thing still ties in a current one. 

39. 

As the title states.  That is how long Mr. 710 and I have been together in some capacity or other. 

39 years today.

We'd known each other a little longer than that, from work. We both were on the 3p-11p shift and a number of the people at work would go out afterwards now and then. But I, nor he, counted those as "dates".  We weren't even 100% sure the other was gay, let alone interested. I was. We were. 

Even this first date was mired in havoc - my '71 Maverick breaking down on the way to his place. Him coming to rescue me as my car got towed to some unknown mechanic. And all in the days before cellphones. How that all came to be is still cloudy to me. 

Today is the date we have etched into our rings. Though with 1985 on the end. 

I won't lie. 39 years isn't easy. Well, the first 15 weren't. I mean, how emotionally and mentally equipped can a 21 and 24 year old be? Ones with little life experience too. So we weathered it all together - as the vows would eventually say: for better or for worse. 

There isn't a lot of 'worse' anymore. Yes, normal life changes - birth, school, work, death, as the Godfathers might sing. We are stable, mature and strong enough to deal with it all. That wasn't always the case - mostly in my case.

It helps that 710 has the patience of a saint (whatever that actually means). I do not, Maybe Paula Abdul is correct with opposites attracting. 

It doesn't seem like 39. And 50 seems a long way off.........considering our age(s). Time is a funny thing.

As I've said before, January is a sucky time to have an anniversary. Maybe we'll go out for dinner, but the weather has been sub-zero when the wind if factored into the equation. We are not ones for the big hoopla, so, it might just be home cooking tonight. 

Maybe we will celebrate at 40. 

the title image is from 1988 (?). Our hair was darker. Our hair existed. We were thinner. That duplex is now a single house residence. I don't even know who took that picture. Clearly Ted Lasso stole his look from 710. 

Song by: the Cure

Bang a Gong

Over a month ago, in the comments on one of my running posts, David asked "when's the marathon?". 

He's an intuitive one, that man. 

Months ago, I signed up for the Columbus Marathon. While I won't say I immediately regretted it, I did feel I had overreached, and not by a little. One month before I signed up, I told myself I'd never do a full marathon.........and yet, here I was. 

I chose Columbus for a number of reasons:  One - I didn't want to wait until the following May to do Cleveland.  Two - Columbus is as close as I'll have to having a second home city.   Three - Morty, my bestie and biggest running champion, is in Columbus and is a race coordinator for the marathon.  Four - for the most part, the course is fairly flat. 

For my first marathon, that last reason was kind of vital to me. I'm doing better on elevation training, but in my head, I could not get a DNF, and I needed every advantage to completing the race. And truth be told, I couldn't bear to fail in front of Morty. 

Until the two weeks prior to the run, I was fairly confident in my abilities to finish, even with calculating (over and over and over again) my probable finish time. But tapering is as much about the mental wind down as it the physical aspect - though I didn't know about that part. The latter wasn't hard for me, but the former........fuck. I spiraled. Big time. 

The morning of the race, my first words to 710 weren't, "morning dear", it was, "I don't want to go". And I kind of meant it. Yet, I dressed, left the house at 05:30 to head to the event. I was as ready as I could be - ready or not, if you will. 

I met up with some of my running group who were also doing either the half or full marathons, and headed to my corral, where I nervously waited to start. My running wife (above) so had the same feeling of not wanting to run - it oddly made me feel better.  It was a chilly 47° but there I stood in shorts and short sleeve shirt.  And gloves (which I would eventually ditch at mile 18). 

The set-up, the crowd, the energy was just amazing. It puts Cleveland's marathon to shame.

I went out strong - stronger than I should have, but ultimately, while it would hurt me near the end, overall I think it helped. 

For the first half, the crowd engagement was plentiful and up-lifting.  I shaved 18 minutes off the first half marathon I did - though I still had 13 more to go.  The second half, save for a few pockets, crowds were almost non-existent.  To be fair, all the race info told me that up front. 

At the 17 mile mark a pacer passed me. Somehow I had been going much faster than I realized. This would not last, but it gave me hope. 

I have great friends though. Morty was such a help before, during and after. Becky showed up at mile 7 which was really nice, and she and her husband truly surprised me at mile 20. It was my first true stop (not counting hydration stations) as I hugged both of them. I was starting to die a little before seeing them and that helped me enormously. 

Race bibs had your first name on them - big enough for the crowd to see. At first it was uplifting to hear someone say, "You got this, Blobby!"........and while it was probably more me than them, as time and miles went along, it seemed to be aggressive and I became internally slightly annoyed. 

I heard the theme from Rocky played from people's houses more than I care to hear (read: ever!) and "The Final Countdown" twice. There were DJs and live bands along the route (thanks to Morty!), and they kept me entertained. I had music too, but it seems my watch playing music and tracking my run via GPS full time is a battery drainer. At mile 24 it died. I could no longer see my timing or splits. Part of it was horrible, part of it was great I was no longer tied to it all. 

After mile 20 mile, my back was tender, and I found myself going slower, yet I kept moving. At 25.5, a number of people from the running group was there to cheer the rest of us on, some who had already completed the half, some who just came down to cheer. I won't lie, it meant a lot. 

The crowd picked up significantly for the last 0.2 miles. I tried searching for 710 in the crowd, but it was useless. The amount of people and the noise, I'd never hear him call me, and near impossible to pick any one person out. 

I could hear them announcing some names as they approached the finish line. Then I heard mine. But it went on......and on. Effusively.  Telling everyone where I was from, and that it was my first marathon and to give a big cheer for me. This was more than anyone else was getting - and I was grinning.  

I cocked my thumbs back and me and yelled to the crowd "he's talking about ME!!!" !!!!    No one could hear me. Bastards. 

In a nano-second, or two, I knew it was all Morty's doing and I loved him even more (if that's possible) for that. 

As I was a few yards from the finish, I saw Morty waiting for me on the other side, as he had always promised he would. It took me a few more seconds to see that 710 was there too. Non-workers and non-athletes are not to be in that area. Again - Morty and his string pulling. 

Both men got vicious hugs - Morty first and then 710. 

As everyone would comment, I was upright, I was running and looked strong at the finish. I beat my expected time by 14 minutes. I was pretty happy with my performance. 

I got my medal and the swag - which was mostly chocolate milk (which was incredible!), banana, cookies et al.  But I got a mylar sheet to wrap around me to keep me warm, though I wasn't horribly cold until a while later. 

Pictures where taken avec medal. 

And I got to bang the White Castle™ PR Gong. That's 'personal record', not "Puerto Rican". Technically it was my first marathon, but also a personal record. And for the record, my first boyfriend was Puerto Rican.  So, somehow it all fits. 

It was a great first marathon. Weather. Course. Friends. Family. Friends (again!). Even the acquaintances that are the running group. Everything was on point. My running wasn't always pretty, but I was determined. 

Whether there will be a second one is yet to be seen. When it comes to running, I stopped saying 'never'. As it is, I have two more races in the next month or so - neither marathons. But as 2023 goes, that will probably be it for the year, though I'll continue to train. 

Song by: T. Rex

37

Today marks 37 years with the man I married a little over 11 years ago.  

Scratch your noggins while you attempt to figure that one out. 

But this date, in 1985, is the one that is inscribed on the inside of our rings. 

When I stop to think about it:  it is a fuck of a long time. When I really stop to think about it, I just feel old. I don't normally think I look old, but I did catch myself in the mirror the other day and went: "well. fuck!".  ....but not in a good way. 

Of course, my body feels old most days. 

Here is a weird truth of this being together this long: I feel weird / guilty about saying it. 

Yeah yeah - I get it should be a proud moment, and it is, but I see people mentally calculating in their heads any number of scenarios and starting to carry the 1, while also trying to do Chisanbop to figure out current age, then subtracting to find out what ages we were........and the invariable: "wow. that's a long time", to which I think I internally process a "fuck you" to them, while keeping a smile. 

Yes, gay men aren't always known for their longevity. Allegedly! And even we have struggled. Well not "even we", like we are some sort of super-beings. We are not. 

I do say we've been together 37 years - and we have and we haven't. We "dated" and then we dated, then we lived together, then we didn't. But we were young-ish and had a lot of growing up to do. It could be argued, I still do.

Still, even in that "break" we saw each other almost every single day. Every night on his way home from work, 710 would key into my place and we'd recap our days before I went to bed (or out!) and he went home. We'd still go out to dinner. We'd still go on vacations. And then we moved back in together........for the next 117 years. 

It is possible to be together apart. We made it work and even after that, it was still a lot of work to where I actually did mature. Well........kind of. 

There were times when it seemed like the relationship was all work. "New" city. New house. New jobs. New responsibilities for which one can't always be prepared. I wish I had realized when all that working on the relationship finally found it's forever groove. It's been good for a long long time. Not carefree, but still...we are older and wiser. Mostly older. 

But with all that above is why we cried at our own wedding. The 'for better or worse, sickness / health, richer / poorer' thing really of meant something - because we did live all of that before tying the knot. For those marrying in their 20's it is a 'sure..........we'll do that, should it ever happen' pseudo-promise.  

January is a sucky time for an anniversary. Even without Covid, the chance of going out were slim. Now they are nil. That it's scheduled to be single digits outside wouldn't have helped matters either.  I don't know what we'll do tonight, but hopefully something meaningful - not that 37 is some magical number. It's just a big one. 

....and yes, that's what she said. 

Song by: Devo

a View to a Kill

I took off Thursday and Friday for some mental health days. 

We had an idea of going down to a state park to relax in a cabin and go hiking. Neither one of us was horribly committed to the idea, and the thought of being in a cabin with snow seemed...........less than ideal. 

Yeah, I'm a freeze baby, but the reality is: you can only hike so much in the snow and woods with a dog. And since we didn't plan-plan the trip it seemed a would be bust. 

Last time we did this it was nice, but we still didn't plan well with supplies et al, and there ain't much around these parks for which to go for a food run, so we made this partial week a stay-cation. 

Meh. 

It was easy and cheap - that's about all I'll say about that. However, we did go hiking each day. Locally - some farther out than others. 

But between Thursday and Friday it snowed. Not SNOWED, like meteorologists predicted. Our supposed 5" became less than 0.5".  That made Friday's outing a bit more............well, precarious. 

As you all know by now - over the last four years or so, I've become a falls risk. 

The trail 710 picked was snowy, muddy and leafy. I just turned to him at the top of the slope we were about to decline and said, "you know, you could just shoot me. No need to James Bond this death with elaborate schemes that never seem to work out in the end for the villain."

At least he laughed. Or knew I was onto his plot. 

Still the image is reality. I trailed.......on the trail. I'd say it's illogical, but it's not - any more, I second guess many of our walks. This could be on where, the conditions, my shoes, the weather - or any mix. I won't say I'm afraid of falling (again), but it's burned into my psyche. 

Our neighborhood walks are great, but I'm usually on the street while 710 & Dog are on the sidewalks. The slate sidewalks, that out of nowhere can become super slippery. Oh, I've slid and caught myself before the need to tip over. The street is a safer bet.  I can only imagine what the neighbors think we can't be near each other for any host of reasons. 

I wasn't grumbling on this hike or anything, but 710 said I should take in the beauty. 

I had to tell him, when we walk in the woods on sloppy / slick / muddy days, THIS is my view.

Yup, it's at the ground. Most all of the time. 

There might be birds, blue sky and sites to be seen, but that's for when I'm standing still, not when mobile. 

Admittedly, it's a horrible annoying way to exist, but I find myself second guessing any way I walk unless it's sunny and dry.......and even then...........sometimes. And it's not like I fall all the time. It's only been four times in four years, but each has been painful and / or expensive. It tends to give one pause. 

Clearly, I made it through the hike.

Ironically, when we came out of the woods to where we parked, there was a park ranger and an ambulance, both with their lights on. 

Alas, some poor soul didn't make it out alive.  I mean, I'm assuming............

Song by: Duran Duran

Pottery's Gay

Truth be told, I have no song titles with the word 'pottery' or 'bronze' in them, so I'm sort of faking the title / artist thing today.  Though - who couldn't love the name 'Anal Cunt' as a band?

You're probably wondering why I care about bronze or pottery...........and the short answer is, "I don't".

The longer answer is, these are the traditional items for an eighth anniversary, and I needed a tie in for a post that it is our eighth anniversary.   ......plus 25 years.....plus 10 months.

I love how "they" can't just have one item for this year. Bronze or pottery. They are pretty much mutually exclusive, unless you come in third at the state fair pottery making contest.

Technically, the anniversary was yesterday. But I know how you all get up in arms if there is no Sophie or Shep. And then there'd be pitchforks and torches......and what the hell people, I don't even live in Charlottesville!

So I delayed the post for a day.

We are celebrating, but more on that in another post.

Eight years is nothing to sneeze at - nor is almost 34. Truth be told, I'm amazed the man has stuck around this long. Granted for the last seven or so, it's been for Petey or Shep. Without either, I wouldn't have a prayer in the world.

I kid of course.

No one is getting bronze or pottery today.  I'm happy with a good meal and a bottle of wine.



(the image today is from our 'reception' after the wedding. I couldn't imagine taking that pic with the current administration being in that residence.)


Song by: Anal Cunt

Valentine

Puns.

Who doesn't love a good one?

While yes, the card that Becky sent to the group is funny on the most basic level - I think I'm more amused that Vlad and SCROTUS are dressed like Deiter or from the band Sparks{oh yes, they have a website}.

Of course, Vlad/SCROTUS valentine is just a similar image of Cruz/Dump last July.

Vlad is looking a little pasty; and Dump is looking far too pink - when he's really orange.

Neither here nor there - but it should be continually pointed out that these two are BFFs - Best Fascists Forever !!

....and as make-out pals goes - Putin could do a lot better.



We have zero plans for the "holiday". Well, that's not quite true. We've discussed getting carry-in from a decent place. It doesn't have to be fancy for us. It will just be nice that neither of us has to cook.  ....or clean.

Of course, someone will have to order and pick-up.   .....and it most likely won't be me. I'm the guy who rushes home to take the doggie on his evening hike.

Since I'm drafting this the evening before, there is only a 27% chance any of this will happen - other than the dog walk (that is a 100% certainty).  So I better start thinking of things to cook.




Song by: Fiona Apple

Sweet Nutthin'

Two days ago I saw the sweetest and possibly saddest thing I'd ever witnessed.

But first, a set-up...........


I was out running errands and doing some holiday shopping for my sister's kids. First off, kids are very specific about what they want and not fucking shy about asking for it regardless the price. Sometimes I'll play along, sometimes not.

This time, not. Exactly.

What my sister requested was too late in coming to get it for the holiday, so before just getting her a gift card, I thought I'd try "the mall"!

First I tried the good mall. It had kiosks that sold iPhone covers, but not as one as ugly as what was requested. So I took a chance on the absolute shittiest mall in town. Ugly mall should figure ugly products, right?

Well, yes.......and no.

They did not have what I was looking for. But to be fair, they didn't have anything for which anyone would look.

The mall, in its heyday, was a sad sack. And we were well beyond its prime, though I haven't been in there for years.

As I relayed this story to Becky, she thought I could find something at Claire's Boutique. As if.

Claire's would be a huge 'get' for this mall. Every store was a lesser version of a real store. Gone was Starbucks, FYE, Old Navy or something as high-brow as Five Below.

Let's just say, the anchor store is JCP.  They didn't even have 'the Dollar Store'. What you got what you see in the title image.

I stood there for minutes trying to figure out what it meant.  Ms. Dollar +?  Miss Dollars?  I don't know what the fuck it was, or supposed to be. I didn't go in.

No but if you need a glittery 4th rate prom dress to pass off as a NYE get-up, then this is your mall. If you need your acrylic nails done or have your weave fixed, this is the place. Of if you need a Lenscrafters - which is the only other name brand anything in this mall.

Even the food court was suspect. You'd have killed for a Sbarros here. But no, you got the no-name pizza by the slice establishment. There was a mid-eastern food place, but you'd kind of hope a suicide bomber hung out there, waiting to take out the entire place.

In the food court itself - the seating area - the cloth backing of the banquettes are torn or worn out. There were a total of 7 people sitting there eating some kind of food.

I am not a proud man, it was nearing 13:00 and I was starving. I knew it would be a mistake, but I got the Chinese food.  Eeek.

Oddly enough, this is not the sad part of the story. Though make no mistake, it was sad. On many levels.

As I was taking my 'food' to a table, I'm in danger of running into two of the few folks in this dump of a mall. Both were heavier-set, looking a little worse for the wear, in general. The man was African-American, the woman, Caucasian.

Like playing a game of chicken, we veered away from each other at the last minute, me taking my seat (after checking the seat!) and they went a few tables away, though they had no food.

Now normally, I have my camera at the ready. I take pictures of just about anything absurd, but nothing about them seemed out of the ordinary.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see him kind of looking my way, and then he goes down on one knee. His hand comes out of his Member's Only (like) jacket pocket with a ring box. She does not seem phased. In the slightest.

I'd say, "he went to Jared", but I can almost bet this mall doesn't have one. Is there something less than Kay or Zales? I mean something less that isn't a pawn shop?

Of course, maybe he didn't buy it there.

If not, then why oh why would you pick a basically abandoned food court to propose marriage?

OMG - this wasn't where they had their first date, was it? That just now crossed my mind.

Both were probably past child bearing years, so they save themselves the embarrassment of telling their kids that "daddy popped the question near where Dog-on-a-Stick used to be".

The woman took out her iPhone and snapped a pic of her ring. Becky admonished me for not noticing what the ring looked like. I'm a bad homo.

She then got on the phone and made some calls. It all seemed pretty underwhelming, as now I could not turn away.

"Brad* just proposed."

Not

"O.M.G.  Brad JUST proposed!!!!!"

It did go through my mind, "oh, isn't this sweet".  And then I looked around, and my next thought was, "oh, isn't this sad".


And sad that I took no picture of him on one knee. On a floor, which lord only knows the last time it was mopped.

As I made my way out, I did pass Santa's Workshop.

No surprise here. It was sad too. Two elves, sitting doing nothing, as no one was around to tell the big guy what they wanted for xmas. So St. Nick opted to kill time himself.

I'm guessing he's not checking his list once or twice. He's reading Fifty Shades of Grey or checking his Tinder account.




*made-up name, since I have no idea. 


Song by: Chrissie Hynde

Half as Much

Today is 710's birthday.

....and I've done next to nothing.  I could make dinner and dessert, but chances are we'll just go out to dinner on the weekend instead. It will be a typical Thursday at Chez Blob.  ...and that's ok.

There will be a present, but a small one. ...and it might not arrive on time. It's is currently tracked to Columbus - well, at 13:41 yesterday. If it's moved, no one at UPS has updated their system.

The renovation was our presents - for the next 12 years, so he isn't really expecting anything - unless he reads this instead of the morning paper (which he won't).

Of course the big present is me. I mean, why wouldn't it be?

I was thinking, yesterday, in the new shower, that while I won't tell you how old he is, that in his entire lifetime, he has spent more birthdays with me than without. That is kind of semi-incredible fact....at least to me.

On another birthday note, my oldest niece turned 21 two days ago? How'd that happen? Wasn't it just a few years ago I held her after she came home from the hospital?  Didn't I just attend her first birthday party - seen here?

She didn't have a rough b-day and ralph in the trash can - she just dropped some stuffed animal in there.
Where has the time gone? Whether it be my time with 710 or having my niece become legal.

Katie will get a nicer gift than 710. We'll get her a Amex gift card she can take to Italy. Oh yes, she's going to Italy and Croatia after school is out next month. I'll want her to have a good time and a little money she can use for fun.

710?  No gift card.  No Europe. No trash can.  He just gets me.



Song by: Patsy Cline

Komm Gib Mir Deine Hand

The construction has been a pain in the butt for our daily living, and not just for us.  Poor Sophie has been a prisoner up in the apartment / office during the day - whether I'm traveling or not.

It seems in the last two weeks, I've gone from "warden" to "companion".

How can you not love this?

Sure, she makes it hard to type and sure my productivity is in the toilet.

....and it's totally worth it.



Song by:  the Beatles

I Can't Make It Alone

This note was left at my desk, in my office yesterday.  It now resides on the bulletin board next to me so I will be able to see it daily.

Don't bother asking about the "Mr. MB" signature - there are somethings I will be keeping to myself.  Yes, normally, I vomit stuff out for everyone here, but private isn't always bad.

We had a friend and neighbor die quite unexpectedly on Tuesday. It was quite upsetting for us. By us, I mean the few neighbors who were aware of the event.  His partner was out of town on business, which added to the sadness and angst.

Of course we empathized and sympathized with our friends, but I also know that I wasn't the only one thinking the same fate could have been any of our own.

Bill was older than either 710 or myself, but he was at least in the same box.  You know those age-range boxes you check for certain things?  He was in ours. Well, in 710's. I'll be in that box in 17 months.

Sleep was restless Tuesday night, or actually Wednesday morning when we got to bed. We held each other tight with thought of Bill, thoughts of Marty, thoughts of us.

I've always had this "plan" that I get to go first. While, sure it would be convenient for me,  it was heartbreaking to see the sorrow that leaves behind. So there really is a no win in this scenario.

One (or is it just me?) has fleeting thoughts of would it be safer to be alone than have a lifetime commitment only to be left alone?  That is quite a sad thought to have, admittedly, but one that has passed through my head.

I suppose the pain of loss is worth the time of love.  At least in theory. Time will tell - at least for one of us.

Until then, one Mr. MB will love me forever.



Song by:  Maria McKee

The Heart

If?  IF??

Girls wish they were boogers!

You know I'm not a big fan of this day of Valentine. Saint, though he might have been.

I make the effort, at least some years, to get 710 a card, but overall we leave the "holiday" alone.  No going out to dinner - and certainly trying for a place that will be over run with Valentine special,  couples and 'meals for 2'.

Truth be told  - it is not very reaffirming trying to buy a Valentine card for your husband. At least one that doesn't have a woman on it or that is shoved into the corner of traditional cards.

It's not that I want to go the route of those pseudo-porn / suggestive cards with the creepy gay-for-pay guys they get to pose on those "adult" cards, but there has to be a something in between.

With the state of Washington now allowing gay marriage (yayyy) and New Jersey taking steps to make it so, there has got to be a market for the same-sex couples out there.  It might not be the biggest market, but a niche one nonetheless.

The world is a-changin', all these ancillary services need to do the same thing.

But tonight there are no plans other than to hang with the man and the cat. Quiet, peaceful  - and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a new blog post tomorrow that revolves around cooking.   No promises.



Song by: Lucy Kaplansky

Secret Love

In my ever-something quest to blog about something that doesn't look like a frickin' diary entry (seriously, I'm one step away from starting posts with "Dear Kitty...."), I took a challenge from Stevie B. to do five entries based on these topics.

Dumbest Thing
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / Lust Secret Loves

I have no idea from where he got them or how he picked them, and while some of them seem like I have to put actual time and effort into them, sometimes that's better than coming up with a subject all on my own.

I'm already a day behind him, but I'm also on the last day - then it's back to my regular blogging schedule. So here you have it: Secret Loves.


You know how I said one of Stevie B's other topics were the hardest. I take it back - this one might be. Not that I'm (too) embarrassed to write about a 'secret love', but maybe because it is too close to the Crush/Lust one.

Of course, I guess it could be a love of anything: Andy Gibb songs, Jewel's poetry, or the PWT* way I love to eat peanut butter and jelly on Saltine crackers. Oh the shame. By the way, only one of those three things is a truth. I'll let you figure out which one.

In my mind, I made up love (human love, that is) - but I doubt it was love. I was too young to know the difference. I've mentioned him once. Chris. Well, Christ - he dropped the 't'...and not pronounced in the Jesus-y kind of way. Thank g-d!!! .....pun totally intended. Greek by nature he was.

Cherubic in his face, but what a face. Handsome as all get out. Nice as could be and liked me for me. ....acne and bacne included....though things never got to a point where he saw anything but the zits on my face.

We hung out of a few months and both were oh-so-tentative on saying the word 'gay', that well, we actually never said it. We never said we liked each other or that we wanted more from each other (yes people, I'm talking about s-e-x). So nothing ever happened.

Naturally I am assuming he did like me and wanted more. I'm not assuming he is gay. Not anymore. I did run into him a few years ago - the first time in 20 years - with his partner.

But between that time, while I knew he was still in Columbus, I started going "out" and never ran into him - and trust me, I was going out so often if he had, I would have encountered him.

So, was the love secret? Yeah. Secret for both of us.

I think the bigger question is - was the secret, love?



Song by: George Michael


*Poor White Trash

Happiness

In my ever-something quest to blog about something that doesn't look like a frickin' diary entry (seriously, I'm one step away from starting posts with "Dear Kitty...."), I took a challenge from Stevie B. to do five entries based on these topics.

Dumbest Thing
Toughest Choice
Happiest Moment
Crush / LustSecret Loves

I have no idea from where he got them or how he picked them, and while some of them seem like I have to put actual time and effort into them, sometimes that's better than coming up with a subject all on my own.

I'm already a day behind him, but I'm up to topic #3:

I don't find myself an unhappy person, but that is far from saying I am a happy one. And 'bubbly' certainly isn't one of the first few hundred adjectives you'd use to describe me. So of all of Stevie B's subjects, this is the hardest for me.

I'm sure when I was 8, going to Cedar Point was my happiest moment. Once I was drunk and was really happy to have a gyro at 03:30. I suppose getting through cancer treatment unscarred (well....you know what I mean) should be my happiest moment. So what qualifies at the happiest?

I don't think there is one. I don't think there can be. But since people, myself included, tend to think closer to the present I will go with getting married.

Yes, that old ball and chain. The institution.

Look, I'm so happy that I cropped him out of the picture.

Oh, you all know the deal. He signed up for me, not to be a starring member of my blog. Of course he's cropped out. But this was a self-portrait we took after our 'reception' at the W and on our walk back to our hotel after sending Becca off in her cab to the airport.

Yes, it's only been four months, but I still think back on that day fondly. The weather, the company, the actual ceremony itself, the lunch afterwards. Yeah, overall the official pictures came out fair at best and I lost my iPhone, but it was still a great day.

While I know our marriage means zilch in Ohio, I'm still very happy we did it.



Song by: Alison Krauss + Union Station

My True Love

We flew in under the radar. At least the news and at least to most people.

Yesterday, Denton and I got married in Washington DC.

Mallied? Yeah - mallied.......sheeesh (you have to say it like Long Duck Dong).

I know most of you who follow this here blog-thingy knew we were planning on getting married, I even probably put a date of August/September on the books for this to happen. Alas, it did not - and all due to my work schedule.

Partially because of this, it was even smaller of a ceremony than we anticipated - and that the original wasn't sizeable to being with. We had a window of opportunity and we took it. It was either that or wait until 2011. We discussed for a while and decided to go for it.

Because of our decision, we knew we were giving up a few things - and mainly those were people we wanted to be there, but we made it difficult for them to attend. I'm sure if we even gave them two more weeks, they might have - but frick, I would have felt guilty about them having to trek to DC for that, especially so close to the holidays and their own vacations.

It sounds lame when you say it out loud like that, but it is the truth. As it turns out we had one guest: Rebecca.

She really dropped everything to be there. I was elated, I was guilt-ridden. It was between her class schedule and going on her 10th anniversary trip with her husband. That she showed was nothing short of amazing. And she really did represent our other close friends who could not attend.

As I mentioned in a July post regarding getting married, we were not planning on doing it at the courthouse. First off, I didn't like the venue. Secondly, we would have had to battle the final day of the Chandra Levy trial. We wanted to do it outside, if possible.

I had vetted a number of officiants, some who were good, but unavailable, some who were just loons before I found one I really liked. While a religious man, he didn't push that aspect - and he was gay too, so he kind of got where we were coming from.

Ed, the officiant, helped me with narrowing down a location and even helped with a photographer. He was a great non-wedding planner, wedding planner.

We opted for the Enid Haupt Garden, right outside the Smithsonian castle. The photographer, a graduate student from American University. I snapped this pic while we waited to start.

The ceremony was not long, but it was very emotional for not only Denton and myself, but Rebecca too. No one is ashamed to say that tears were shed by all. Well, maybe not by Jordan, the photog.

Since we were out in the open, a number of people witnessed the ceremony. Four people eating lunch in the garden broke into applause and congratulated us. Ditto with some people elsewhere in the garden when we took pictures afterwards. It was very nice and very reaffirming.

...and it was a perfect day. 60 degrees, blue sky with white clouds (see above pic). What more could you ask for?

I said - "I couldn't have planned this better". Becky came back easily with, "you didn't".

True that! We didn't.

There was very little planning. And by little, I mean almost none.

We had "rehearsal dinner" (i.e. small plates and tequila) the night before, and then a great dessert of oh, say, toffee covered pretzels and Prosecco....all while back in our hotel room with TV and each on our laptops. Ahhhh.....the 21st century!

Becky did a few grand gestures one being going out the morning of the wedding and getting us boutiners....and she read a Navajo poem at the ceremony as well. It was beautiful....and she made a little funny at the end of it. She also went and did the whole something old/new/borrowed/blue thing, which never even crossed our minds. Maybe pictures of that later.

After all was said and done, we had our "reception". Or as you people call it: lunch.

On a whim, we went to the W on 15th St. We hit the rooftop for lunch, as it overlooks the White House.

Yes, wine in mid-day....and more small plates. And a great view, with my now husband, and a great friend.

Once we sort through the pictures and such, I may post some here. Denton has been fairly invisible here and he likes that, but we'll see. If nothing else, I'm sure I have shots of just me I can post.



Song by: the Eurythmics

Single Girl

I'm single again!!!!

Nah - not for the long term, just for two days. But g-d, I revert to single me so quickly when I'm alone, it's really quite frightening.

The Cleveburgh nightlife is at my disposal; the world at my feet. And what do I do? I sit at home too uninterested to do a frickin' thing. The old single me would have been way drunk and possibly missed an opportunity to post on a blog due to extracurricular activities.

The now me, is a drafting this the night before it is to be published while trying not be too pathetic by going to bed before 22:00. Sad but true.

However, keeping with the old single me, when I'm alone - I eat (and ate), like crap. I'm too embarrassed to tell you what I had for "dinner", but I can tell you I didn't have the left over pizza or the grilled chicken, which still reside in the refrig. Suffice to say, I will be at the gym at opening atone for my sins.

I rarely ate a balanced meal when I was single and living alone. Egg Roll King was my mainstay. Ahhhh South Campus, how I loved you. Seriously, two egg rolls each and every day for lunch. ...and I still cannot figure out why my acne never cleared up. Hmmmm.

Here's the joke - I'm single 50% of the time with work travel. I normally have balanced meals on the road. I don't really do nightlife much when I travel - as I just go to the hotel and work. Hell, I rarely turn on the TV. I think I mentioned, it was two days before I knew Haiti had an earthquake!

But when I'm single at home, I'm just a schlub. I sit here, still in my work clothes - that is how lazy I am.

Oh, I'm single because Denton went home to see his parents - leaving me to be the sole participant at our neighbors 4th of July cookout on Sunday. And the only one of us to do our little neighborhood parade - which is just adults following the kids around while we carry liquor - and drink it.

Denton also gets to be the hero. The iMac his parents owned died a few weeks ago - one he bought for them. Well, technically we did, since it came from the joint account, but I'll assume I received no credit. I will also assume I get none for the iPad he picked up on the way out of town to bring to them.

I really do not care about getting any credit, I'm thrilled they are getting this. Though I've barely played with the iPad, I think they'll love it - eventually. They'll say it was too much. They'll say they don't know how to operate it, but in short order, I predict they will love it. Of course, Denton probably will too - so I half-suspect there might be one in his near-future too.

So yes. I'm single. For now. Maybe tomorrow will be more adventurous, but do not bet on it.



Song by: Pat Carroll (yes, that Pat Carroll!)

Fifty Years After the Fair

Because of my migration, which seems to have worked, I neglected to write about a big event in our lives. Well, mostly Denton's, but hey, I was along for the ride.

He had his birthday the other day. One of the bigger ones. But 50 is the new 40, right? Ok, it's not - people who say that are just in total denial. But Denton is good with where he is, I'm ok with where he is and where we are.

I won't say it was a week of celebration, but we did drag it out a bit. The traditional going out to a new restaurant happened last Saturday. It was ok - nothing outstanding. But it was somewhere new and we know I abhor change.

On the way out, we ran into my cousin Bill and his wife. That was a pleasant surprise. They'd never met Denton before and while it was a brief introduction - as they were waiting for their table - it was a nice ice breaker for both of them.

Monday was the actual day. There was a card and some gifts and a simple meal at home. But I was stumped on dessert. I can cook, but I'm not a baker - not by a long shot. Yeah, I did those orange pound cakes for thanksgiving, but that was about it.

But the day before the big day, I got it in my head I'd make a cake and do butter cream frosting all by my lonesome. And I did.............

Ok, it ain't the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it worked. The cake cracked more than I thought it would as it cooled, but nothing a little homemade chocolate butter cream frosting wouldn't patch up. And it did.

The cake was incredibly moist (because instead of oil I used a stick of butter) and the frosting wasn't nearly as sweet as it seemed when I was making it (maybe that was because I used two sticks of butter in there). The coffee in the mix worked too - and no matter what Ina Garten says, you can taste the coffee, it doesn't just give the chocolate a depth of flavour.

What you see on top of the cake isn't fur or anything. I got the grand idea to grate chocolate infused with orange flavouring over the top. That didn't make or break anything - that's for sure.

Denton liked it - and that's all that mattered. Let's face it, even if it sucked, I racked up all kinds of points just for making the effort.


Song by: Aimee Mann

Silver Lining

Hard as it is to believe, and as weird as this might sound, despite a few years break, today Denton and I celebrate our 25th anniversary!!!!

What you say? A quarter of a century??? But that's not what you're saying right now. Right now you're really saying: What????.....a few years break?

It's true. We were young and not necessarily equipped to handle all the things that two gay men in their early 20's have thrown at them. And we separated after 3 years together. We moved out into our own places but never really embarked on lives of our own.

We had keys to each other's apartments and Denton used his daily....or nightly, as the case may be (he worked 3-11p) and would stop over every night as I was getting ready for bed. We'd talk, he'd tuck me in and then he'd go home.

I would go to his place and house sit when he was out of town. I'd go down to use our (yes, it was still ours) washer and dryer. I'd go down to play with Kylie, which he got as a kitten when we lived apart - but it was I to set those wheels in motion by getting him kitten food, litter pan, etc so he would get a cat.

We went on vacation together. We basically did everything but live together and sleep together while we were apart. The two of us even dated other people, which all ended disastrously because deep down we knew that we were meant to be together. I think we even sabotaged those pseudo-relationships by introducing who we were dating to each other. Even most of those guys could see that we were passing time till we figured it all out on how to be together.

It was just a growing-up time for both of us and deep down, we never really feel like we've been apart and that this truly is our silver anniversary.

The image above isn't far from the truth. We were young and were lacking many funds, all I had to give was my heart. Regardless of what we have achieved financially, it is only the heart that really matters. It is all I really have to give that is of any value - not that Luigi, the Pawn Broker would give me anything for it.

When it comes down to it, I wouldn't be where I am without Denton. I would like to think he wouldn't be where he is without me by his side.

Regardless of what the religious or political right say, we have established very stable lives because of each other: personal, professional, family. So, they can't take that away from us as a couple or a group.



So - 25 years. Who knew?

Today we have no big plans, I mean, I have yoga! Just kidding. Kind of. I do have yoga. We'll do something over the weekend. A really really nice dinner out. We're pretty low-key people.

There are no gifts. We're planning a trip for mid-spring and that will be our gift to each other. I mean, who really wants to go away in January unless it were someplace like Hawaii? And in reality, I just started a new job. I can't really up and leave after only three weeks of being there.

Anyhoo - I'm pretty psyched to make this milestone. And the "joke" is, most every couple of guys we know are 10 years plus together, but more of them closing in on 20. Maybe it's the crowd we run in, but I think that we are and can be a committed cohort.

So, if he reads this - Denton should just know that I love him. That's it. Simple.


Song by: Rilo Kiley