Pour Me a Drink

Can I just say, I had a faboo time at a holiday party this last weekend?

I did. 

I mean, I might not have, but since I had more booze than blood in my system, I at least felt like I had a good time. And isn't that really the same thing? 

With my depression it is easier to cancel on events and just stay home and not socialize. But for these hosts, they are ones for which I always want to be present. They know my current state of mind, so it makes it easier (for me anyway) to show up and just kind of let go. 

It was not a large gathering, which is good and bad when also having anxiety. Other than the hosts, I knew I'd know three people, not all of them well, but it would give me some comfort level. Still, it's harder to blend in.

Oddly, in the Myers-Briggs world, I'm an I with E tendencies. I used to be firmly in the E category, but that has morphed over the years. 

As it would turn out, I'd know a few more folks than expected. Not well - but we'd been introduced before - not that any of them could have ever actually recalled meeting me prior, but that's all well and good and expected. I don't always make an impression. 

Oh. It was all dudes. A veritable sausage fest, though I saw no sausage, though the charcuterie board did have salami, but that's not quite the same even though it was good - and the only protein I had all night. 

There was good conversational exchange with new acquaintances and lots of laughs. There was a pocket of folks that somewhat devolved into some political talk but both guests and hosts tried to tamp that down, which was appropriate and welcome. 

Many in attendance were newly retired or soon to be. So, it was a gathering of men of a certain age. That made it easier too. The three young 'uns I was introduced to, but didn't really have any discussions, were pretty to look at but they were out of my league. And it was a 98% chance they'd never get any of my cultural references to streetcars, tooth polish, the talkies or rotary phones. 

Without any discussion starting from me, I was a bit surprised to hear how many people said they stopped watching and reading the news. I know others here have said something similar, but it felt affirming that I'm not quite the odd man out. 

I don't know I made new friends per se but the only time phones came out was to exchange contact information with two other people. 

I noted to the hosts, afterwards, that it was incredible that phones weren't out. No one was checking a thing. No one took any pictures - no one was Instagramming or Facebooking a thing. Everyone was engaged in their surroundings and with the other guests. I honestly cannot remember the last time that happened. It felt so great.

Probs a good thing phones were not out. I was over-served. Mostly by me, but there were enablers. New folks who'd refresh my drink or a host who would top me off as they walked by. Or just me, getting up to get a refill. Or 10. 

I can honestly say I had more to drink at this party than the last 18 months combined! 

This is not a boast. 

There was a time I was well used to binge drinking - mostly because I used to do it several times per week and for years on end. Those days had been behind me, but man, it is super easy to revisit your past and fall into that behaviour. It was as easy as breathing. 

You'd think the morning after would have been horrific, and it should have. But that's another thing that came back easily. I was tired and groggy for a bit and my voice was sexy as fuck, but I wasn't nauseated or headache-y or anything. But I was always good at that in my "youth" (read: 18-48!). I bounced back easily - which is a hidden problem. If there is no deterrent to that kind of consumption you don't think there is a problem. 

And I'm not saying I have a problem. Which is probably what most alcoholics say, but one recognizes the path.

Now, I think I was a delight at this party. I don't think wasn't sloppy. I'd say I wasn't "loud" but as my mother said, and my friends still remind me, "I've been blessed with a voice that carries".  That was as close to sugarcoating it was it comes. I'll just assume I was loud.  But I had people laughing and joining in our conversations, so I'm taking it as a win. 

That'll be my big and only drunk of the holiday season and the rest of the year. The rest of the celebrations are lunches and brunch types of things. 

My bigger take away was: I had fun. I don't feel a lot of that as of late, so it was nice to be outside my current nature and truly soak it in. 

Song by: Post Malone

Q

I'm not drunk drunk or anything, just up WAY past my bed time. 

I blame Georty. They MADE me come to Columbus and take me to holiday parties. I had a lot  some of wine, but spaced out over like six hours, so it's really nothing. 

More on this maybe later. But I have one question.....maybe two: 

1. Why don't I have an xmas ornament of Q?

2. Where can one get an xmas ornament of Q? 

Yes, I know I can Goooooooogle search it, but I'm not drunk drunk.   

Just drunk. 

Tipsy, really. 

Song by: the Brothers Johnson

Neighborhood #2

Yesterday was our annual* block party.   ......in our new neighborhood. 

Yes, we had them in our old 'hood, but this was our first here. And it was different. And good. 

There was no pot luck, like our old place had been. It didn't dawn on me immediately (read: 2 weeks)  that it was due to Covid. Touching and feeling piles of food that multiple people will encounter isn't a good look these days. 

So, it was BYOB (and we did) and there was a taco truck -- which only took touchless payment. Ahhhhh.........the new normal. 

710 wasn't in the mood to go, but I pushed it a bit. Due to the pandemic, we have met next to no one on our street, let alone the surrounding area. Everyone is either sheltering in place or avoiding us. At least that's my story. 

And truthfully, it was a slow start. We finally knew one couple, and our realtor. 

Honestly, I had a goal: to meet the other gay couple who lived two streets away. They are younger than us, for sure, and have a gaybie. But we'd seem them as we each walk our respective dogs (and their baby).  I mean, I don't think I was looking to be friends with them, but at least being able to do a chin nod and say  " 'sup " as we passed each other didn't seem beyond the pale. 

Oddly, one of them made a point of leaving a group of other folks and coming over to us and introducing themselves. We had a great convo and then his husband joined and it continued. I actually ended up liking both of them a lot -and their baby has an INTENSE stare. Unnerving, actually. But he's cute. 

As we got our tacos, we met a couple on our street - who are slightly older than us. Sara(h) was THRILLED to meet someone else. She was hoping for a more community feel to the street and didn't think it was there. She and her husband invited us to sit with them and eat.  And it was nice. We plan to at least sit outside for drinks soon. 

And we met our brand new neighbors from two doors down. They just moved in. They seemed great too. Loved the husband. He's funny, so we'll be fine. 

Oh - and we thought we met the person who sent out the email for the event. But as it turns out Taylor wasn't the guy who sent out notice. It was his wife..........Taylor.   Yes. They are both named Taylor. Now when they call out names during sex, it might just be a bit narcissistic and could possibly not be even directed to their partner.   .....and the opening of mail could be a challenge. 

So, our planned 30 minutes in-and-out turned to two hours. ....and we came away with some potential new friends but at least with names of neighbors on the street. ...and the neighboring streets.  I'm happy we went. I think 710 is too. 

*no block party happened in 2020 due to Covid. 

Song by: Arcade Fire

Here for the Party

Yesterday was our 14th (!) neighborhood 4th parade and pic-a-nic.

This time though, newer neighbors took over the festivities. And these neighbors, well..........wow on the house.

The house is one of the oldest in the hood, and where they filmed part of Captain America: Winter Solider.

The house had been on the market for over eight years before the current couple purchased it. Three years, and I'm guessing millions of dollars later (no lie!), they finally finished the renovation. It looks nice.

They added this pool. And a pool house. Let's just say, their pool house is nicer than our actual house. Their outdoor kitchen is way more up to date than our indoor one. I have no idea what it would be like to drop that kind of dough on a renovation.

I love for this party the owner went to Costco......................and purchased 100 chairs.  100 hundred fucking chairs.  Decent ones too. And they have a place to store them.

The kids went in the pool.  Not our kids........since we have none. Adults were allowed too, but I like my neighbors, but never enough for them to see me shirtless.

As it was wicked hot, the best side I could do was caprese skewers: tomato.mozzarella.basil.tomato. Oh, and balsamic to drizzle over it.  They probably would have been better had the skies not opened up and poured.  It was so incredibly hot, I didn't care.........I stood out in the rain and just let it happen. I'm sure the hosts didn't want dozens of soaked neighbors traipsing through their house......or even pool house. Or tea house. Yes, they have one of those too.

Then it was home for a quick nap and then a hike with the Shepster.

I hope you had a nice day off as well.  Assuming you had the day off.



Song by: Gretchen Wilson

A Singer Must Die

What does one do when out of town on a Saturday night? 

Well, it's Halloween weekend (kind of), so you tag-along as a third wheel to a party that is centered around Halloween...and
karaoke.

Yes. You read that correctly.

Longtime friend, Doug, and his relatively new husband, Erik, really wanted to see me yet had plans. Their solution was to have me go. I kind of tried to beg off, but they were hearing none of it - with Doug even driving in rush hour traffic to get me.

It did beat sitting in my hotel room for another night with room service.

The party was costume related.  I went as out of town tag along who didn't know he was coming to a costume party.

Nailed it !!!

But they had a room - a ROOM - for karaoke.

Morty, Becky and Dith can attest to the first (and last) time I sang karaoke. I'm thinking 1992. This was not that.

It used to be you did it from a book of pre-selected tunes you'd not normally want to sing....or hear. Now, we have the intertubes with versions of ANY song. Some well done, some not so much.

Doug, seen there, kicked off the festivities with Bauhaus' "Bela Legosi's Dead" .  You don't get that song on most play lists.

Save Doug and Erik, I knew no one, though everyone was super nice. I had nothing to lose by singing.  I started with "Girlfriend in a Coma" by the Smiths. The pseudo host (it's a long story) had never heard it. He said to me afterwards, "there should be a lesson in Ethics with that one".

I joined in on a horrible version of Petty's "American Girl" and Doug and I dueted on Split Enz' "I Got You".  I took solo for "There is a Light that Never Goes Out".  I didn't suck.  There is no video (of which I know), so you can't say otherwise.

It was fun. But more fun hoping in an Uber not worrying about getting to point B.

Now it's time for bed.




Song by: Leonard Cohen

Odd Man Out

Hope everyone had a nice holiday.

It was ok on this end. Hot weather, bad t-storm (though a cool one) and then nice weather. In that order.

Between yoga and visits to the hospital (my mom is status quo, but still in the hospital) we did go to a Memorial Day cook-out.

The food was phenomenal. In theory, the company was too. Yet, I felt a little out of place.

I cannot quite put my finger on it. I knew almost everybody. Well, I did know everybody - or had at least met them in the past. Granted we knew the hosts better than anyone else in attendance, and I could not rely on them to keep us entertained, they were busy.

Oh, don't get me wrong, everyone was friendly, and while we've known the hosts for a decade, everyone else has known them for 2-3 decades. We were odd men out.

A lot of the afternoon talk centered around politics. That's fine. We are all like-minded in our political beliefs, not that I don't mind a good debate. And I'm ok with local politics. But these guys did a deep dive - talking about state districts all over Ohio. They knew the incumbents, the challengers or potential challengers of every small podunk area in Ohio.  All 88 counties. I'm not a dork (ok ok...that is up for debate), but when they get to that level, I have zero to add to the conversation.

Oddly - but probably not really - the most I had in common with were the 16 and 19 year old boys of two lesbians in attendance. They were actually extremely mature for their age - and very comfortable talking to people they don't know and they asked really good questions and were engaged in the conversations.

I wasn't like that at 16 or 19. Possibly not even at 26 or 29.

Maybe not even at 52.

I'm not complaining and we had a good time, it was just this type of event comes around every so often to show me how not in the 'in' crowd.

It's high school all over again.



Song by: Poco

Come Together

I mentioned we went to Columbus last weekend. And yes, I'm just getting around to chatting about it now.

We went for the wedding reception of Georty.

Yes, just the reception. They had gotten married earlier in the week on their own, which we always knew was the plan. They were smart and got married on their non-gay marriage anniversary date, so unlike 710 and myself, Georty only has one date to remember.

Still, there was a party to be had - which is something we didn't do. I'm kind of regretting that fact now.

710 and I, I believe, traveled the farthest to attend, though only a few out of towners were invited, as Georty didn't want anyone to feel obligated to attend. As if they could keep me away.

Actually, the weekend worked out well for us - meaning 710 and myself. We got to do lunch on Saturday with Georty. Everyone at the wedding. Then separate time with Dith and then Becky and her family. All very spread out and even.

By happenstance, as we walked to Dough Mama on Saturday, we came upon a group of protesters. I wasn't proud asking, nay, begging George and Morty to let me take their picture, as the protest couldn't be any more apropos.

Morty, being Morty, told them they had just gotten married. I was surprised by the 'congratulations' comment. I was less surprised by the 'we'll pray for you' one.

But seriously, almost a year after the Supreme Court ruling, this is still a thing!



Then it was the reception with all - though save our core group, I knew few others.

I won't pretend to understand the photo / dress-up station, but we tried to make the most of it. I don't know what I was going for. I don't know what Rebecca and Dith were going for either.

Dith caught Becky and I in a moment. I was sitting across from a humourless, judgemental lesbian. Sure, you could say that's redundant, but this seemed worse than usual. So, I actually had to turn my back to her to talk and have fun with Rebecky.

And of course, there was the happy couple.

Well.....couples. Friends forever.....and ever....amen. We love Morty and George and were so honored to be in attendance. It was a great night, and no one got too too drunk (meaning: me).

And right after their toasts, I caught the sunset.

George, ever being the educator, told me this was a sun pillar. I know I had never heard the term, and I'm not 100% sure I'd ever seen one. But I liked the shot - and I liked that it presented itself at the reception.

It was a great weekend. Je loved it.



Song by: Echosmith

(You're the) Devil in Disguise

Well you can't say I didn't call that one. With Sunday's post I said I'd be in no mood or shape to post a Halloween entry for Sunday.

I don't know about my mood, but I can tell you I was in no shape. It's been a while since I've woken up and wondered if I even bothered  (or able) to take out my contacts. And taking a glass of water to bed doesn't help when you basically just pass out after you get upstairs.  Sure, it seems like a good idea, but it is fairly useless. The time change didn't help matters much.

Previously I had said that Markie and Scott (mostly Markie) are really into Halloween. The house is done up inside and out. There is even a special room where Markie keeps a bunch of creepy faceless dolls.

So yes, from the title image, you saw I went as Beelzebub himself.

The outfit turned out pretty well, if I say so myself.

The horns? Much better than I anticipated after seeing them in their packaging. Of course the folks at Halloween City (you know, one of those pop up stores) were of zero help. So from the package instructions, I gathered I needed fake blood (I didn't). Said I needed some blending powder (I didn't). Said I needed the spirit gum to adhere the horns (I did) and some adhesive removers (and I didn't).

And as it turns out, all sales are final, so there is $13 bucks down the drain for that other crap.

But I wasn't just going as the Devil. That was never the plan. Anyone can go as Satan. Well - anyone who has $50 for horns, the trimmings (that were not needed), a pitchfork and a cape. No, I had other ideas. Well.....idea. Singular.

The t-shirt was supposed to be the pièce de résistance.

Ted Cruz was always my first choice, because of his mole-like fart face, but I had to wait. From the time of the costume idea to execution, it was anyone's guess if he'd still be in the race. No worries, Marco Rubio was my next choice. Trump and Carson were never on my radar for this, and let's face it, I'd be surprised if Pataki's camp has even bothered to spend money on apparel.

And no worries, I got the shirt through amazon. It was not technically Ted-approved, but it also cost me one-third of the official shirts and I didn't get stuck on some donor list of which I could never remove myself. And since it was Amazon Prime, two day free shipping.  Score!

Now, while our 'hood is a fairly liberal bastion, others would be at the party too. I know I could be courting "controversy" {sing that like Prince!}. So be it, I say!

Folks seemed to notice the shirt or the Devil outfit, but rarely the two together - at least at first glance. So I would make remarks like:  "He (meaning Ted) does my bidding!"  Or I'd switch it around and say that I did Ted's bidding. Or the ever popular, "sometimes people don't ask the big guy upstairs {point upwards with the pitchfork for affect} if they should run for President."  My fave would be, if someone asked 'why Ted Cruz?', I'd go "I'm (Satan, that is) a big BIG fan!"

These would usually garner some howls. Save once.

Yes, some man - un-costumed, I might add - told me he really liked what Cruz had said during the last debate. Groan. I will give him this, he's not sold on Cruz and even said it is the first time in his life he cannot imagine voting for anyone.

I think I excused myself to get an eclair.

One of the hosts of the party is a professional costume designer - and we are talking big playhouses et al. So he and his partner's costumes (above) were elaborate and very detailed. Many of the guests work with Markie (as Pinocchio) in the theater, so theirs were too. A steampunk Annie Oakley. An abandoned bride. Mary Poppins. And Alice and Alfalfa.

Actually, a number of their friends and our neighbors were dressed by Markie. He didn't offer it to me, but I would have refused. It was his party, he shouldn't have to work at dressing people too lazy to have their own ideas. Yeah - I said it.

Our friend and neighbor Piet, came in a Venetian mask that creeped the hell out of me.  Me! The Devil!   You look at him for more than 15 seconds and you just get weirded out.

He was smart enough to come with a second mask that would allow him to eat and drink.

In the end, I ended up talking to a bunch of people I knew and many more I did not. It is amazing what a little alcohol (and isn't "little" all relative.....I mean, really???) and hiding behind a mask can do for any social awkwardness.

As it was, I walked home alone, drunk and in the dark - red satin nylon cape wafting in the breeze behind me.

Petey was happy to see me - well, to be let out to pee. I peeled the horns off my head (and apparently took out my contacts). Markie told me any natural skin oils will help remove the adhesive and they did. That and sweat.

And a few minutes later, the Devil passed out......water sitting at bedside......untouched.



Song by: Elvis Presley

Cheers Darlin'

I'd like to say I had a better planned out post.

I started one a day or so ago, but New Years Day got in the way. Or the bar at an open house did, to be more specific. 

I did have plans for a post, but that is now probably for next week. 

Alcohol - the cause of and solution to all of life's problems. 

Our NYD open house, which we've attended now maybe four years in a row, is by far our favourite neighborhood gathering. Steve & Laura do it up right. Casual, but well executed. Servers (ooh) and a bartender (oooooooh). And a lady to take your coat. It seems much more less casual than it is, but it is very welcoming and easy. 

We got there an hour after it started, and still were one of the early arrivers. 

After saying hello to the hosts, it was a stop at the bar. José was a very attentive and generous bartender. Glasses we're very full of wine. Probably too full for the Granthams, but for me, I was fine with putting a head on it.

Their featured cocktail was kir royale but I stuck with a dry white wine. Fully filled glasses. Oh yes, multiple. José wasn't one to stay behind the bar. He was proactive in getting you a new glass as he saw fit.

José was an enabler.

José practically scoffed at me when, near the end of the party, I refused a refill. But Blobby was
d-runk. ...and he was the help! Carson would have dismissed him with no reference.

I kid. José was great.

So were our neighbors. I really do like most of them. And all of the ones who actually showed. I'm always surprised how few take these guys up on this open house. We're not the most social of creatures, but comparatively, we do pretty well.

While they had food, I would have been wise to partake in more of it than I did - at least within the ratio of alcohol.

We had great conversations with folks.

When 710 and I were in separate groups, I was talking with two men, one of whom is a great guy, and the other I've exchanged nods and waves to while walking the dog, but whom has never uttered a syllable my way.

However, John and I were talking about his blow up, full size yard snow globes.....that light up and rotate. This is out of character for him and the 'hood. But it was kind of a joke to his wife, but now they are purchased, so I suspect we will see them in upcoming years.

Somehow, he mentioned they were very Pee-Wee Herman-esque. Which began a conversation between the three of us on Pee-Wee's Big Adventure and Pee-Wee's Playhouse.

BTW, we are 50+ year old men.

But as I said, men (myself included) never progress past 14. Or 12, if I'm being honest.

Peter, John and I then just stood there throwing out random Pee-Wee quotes......and laughing. Everyone agreed it was Morgan Fairchild's best role ever.

John was super excited when I told him they just released the Playhouse on Blu-Ray. He hopes his wife will now get it for his upcoming birthday.

Both John and Peter were completely stoked when I told them Pee-Wee had a Christmas special. In my haze, I may have offered to host a viewing.

That's not weird, right?


So, we went home, drunk-walked the dog and then I passed out took a nap for 40 minutes.

Not a bad way to end a holiday season.



Song by: Damien Rice

Party Time

Saturday, I ventured down to Columbus, while 710 stayed home with the kids.

Friends, George and Morty, had a non-annual house party. As often as I've spent time with these guys, I've never attended this shindig and wasn't sure I was going to this one.

710 encouraged me to go, thinking that with recent events, me going would be good for me.

If nothing else, it gave me a few hours to release some tension.

I'm pretty good in social situations where there are lots of folks, though I don't know many of them. But here, I could count on one hand (well, maybe one and a half) how many people with which I'd be familiar.

I "surprised" Georty, since I didn't actually tell them I was coming down. Mort had his suspicions since I ignored a text from the night before as to if I'd be attending.

Even being 20 minutes fashionably late, I was still one of the first folks there. I was hoping to sneak into the crowd and have Georty just stumble upon me. No such luck.

Until Meredity arrived (finally!), I was the second oldest (not in age!) friend of Morty's there. A high school friend of his was there as well. If I'm remembering correctly, it was he and his wife who brought a six pack of Schlitz. Apparently, we time-traveled back to 1978 to pick that up.

Still I met some of their newer neighbors and some of Mort's Ironman peeps, who eventually identified me as the go-between who inadvertently pimped-out Torn and Serge as tour guides to Montreal.

This woman, Robin, figured that out and goes....."but Morty called you by another name....what was it...what was it..........?".  I rolled my eyes, took a swing of beer and go, "Blobby?"

"YES, that's it."

Oh Meredity loved that.

Speaking of, Meredity didn't drink.......at all.  I may have made up for her. Honestly, I did not have a lot - at least for the "old me". For the "current me", I had a bit to drink.

I'm glad I made the trip. It was a good outlet for me. It was good to see friends. And I even got to have b'fast with Georty the next day, which was great.

Oh, and I got to see their Beags......and that's always fun.



Song by: Moby

Dusk and Summer

To continue on with the beginning of summer celebration, Saturday 710 and I went to, what is now, an annual event at the Cleveland Museum of Art:  Summer Solstice.

What started off five years or so ago as a party of music and art at the museum, now has two separate entrance times and a total of 5,000 attendees.

Since this was our first go-round, we'll assume the older farts opted for the 20:00 time and the youths went for the cheaper (half priced) 22:30 time - you know when night life just gets going for them.

Long ago, I was one of those youths - one who never thought about going out before 23:30.  Now that's an hour past my bed time.

So yes, I am one of those old(er) farts.

I'll also assume that a bigger gay faction came at 22:30, but who knows.  I saw some gay men of our age, but they fall in with the older fart crowd - like us.

I didn't know what to expect, actually.  We weren't casual, but we weren't dressed up.  Yet some were there in seersucker and bow ties. Another guy had a cut off Puma t-shirt and workout shorts, and then there was everything in between.

Food and drink were reasonably cheap (and the the food was better than good!!!).

But the set-up is this:  a few DJs (including one I even heard of (!) Afrika Bambaataa), live bands outdoors - all of whom were great and great to listen to (not that I'd ever probably buy their music to play in my car, but it was great as live world music), dancing, access to the art museum, including the just opened North Wing, and then all the people viewing you wanted, or could, take in.  Oh, and balloon people.

Forget the entire balloon folks, I'm digging this chick's skirt made out of blown-up latex.

Tickets are not cheap - $60 per person for the 20:00 entrance time.  That doesn't cover food, drink or parking. If you were a big eater / drinker, for an additional $50 it was all you could eat / drink. We didn't do that.  I had yoga then next morning.

But we wandered the museum.  We listened to music - one what I would call World Music

One of the other bands had a song called "Brass & Drums", which couldn't have been a huge stretch since the entire band was made up of percussion and brass instruments (which I thought I videoed, but didn't).

We ate.  We drank. I did more people watching than 710, but that is my style.

And true to form, we left at 22:30.  Mostly because it was hot as the blazes.  Summer Solstice was actual:  we had gone from 70 degree days to 90, and it was a tad bit warm without 3,000 of our closest friends.

But for fun, here are some pictures of the evening.

Mummenschanz-like creatures.  Similar to what they have at Parade in the Circle.  Still fun to view. 

Front of the museum with the stage.  

Front of the museum with some early revelers. 

Projecting art on front of the building while the concert is going on. 

.....and then there is the dancing.  Maybe more people danced later on, but before 22:30, it was just the balloon folks..............plus one lady holding her purse.

I think we'll try to go again next year.  We might arrange things differently, but we have a few months to figure that out before tickets go on sale.  Oh - and yes, they sold out in a matter of days.



Song by:  Death Cab For Cutie

We are Family

Over the weekend we had a birthday celebration for my father's birthday.  His 90th.

I should let you know that my father had his 90th birthday 10 months ago.  He turns 91 in two months and one week.

Clearly, my mother who insisted on doing this was a little behind schedule.  I also don't know the impetus to go with this party.

Normally, my father eschews this kind of event, especially where he is the center of attention.  But he really seemed to enjoy himself and was lively.  Well, as lively as an almost 91 year old can be at a dinner hosted at a country club.

In attendance were some cousins, an aunt or two, an uncle or two, some long long long time neighbors (ok, three couples - but they've lived near my parents for 42 years), and four sisters (see above)........and myself..........oh our spouses and my sister's kids, or most of them.

The company was pretty good, the food was pretty bad.  But at least they are consistent.  I'm not sure I've ever had a decent meal at this place.  The dessert was good.  And well, as you saw in yesterday's post, the bar was an open one, ergo, it was good too.

I can't say there was time enough to truly socialize with some people for more than a minute or two.  Maybe that's the way it should be.  I have few social graces, so what the frick do I know?

My mother did ask us kids to get up and say something, and I was hoping no one would remember that request.  Alas, she did and my eldest sister said she'd stand up there with me while I spoke.  Fun.........for her!

As it turned out, you can see we all stood up.  My little sister started and I finished.  The others were eye candy, I guess.   It was a nice, but short, tribute to my father.

BTW, I love my glasses, but in each pic taken, they look like they've slid halfway down my nose - I'm not liking any of the pics at all.  At least the ones with me in them.

I will share two more:

Three of my sisters and myself.  I was thanking all attendees and wishing my father a happy birthday, both 90 and 91....since i wasn't sure which one we should be focusing on.   

Here is me, then me in 43 years and me in 38-ish years with a "blonde" wig.  It's my dad and his sister. Genetics are a scary scary thing. 

 I really need to work on my posture when I'm drunk.

Song by:  Sister Sledge

Here for the Party

Yesterday was the every other year New Year's open house event hosted by our friends Chef Bob and Nurse Matt. Ok, he's not a nurse, it's an inside faux pas from Rebecca.

Poor Matt was maligned for being a gay man in a hospital setting. "Someone" assumed if he was gay and male, he must be a nurse.....or murse, if you will. He isn't. He's a surgeon. He was miffed - but that's just Matt. Everyone but Matt found it somewhat amusing.

Anyhoo - they have their open house on New Years, but only every other year. It's still nice to be on the invite list. It's a nice house and with a chef as one of the hosts, you know good food will be involved. I had Bob cater my parent's 50th anniversary. ....and it has to save them a boatload of cash when doing this party.

While certainly a gay friendly event, it's not a gay party - except for the hosts. It is equal part work event - mostly for Matt. I ran into many a physician or hospital staff that I know/knew from back in the day.

Normally, we run into a number of homos that we know or at least see at places like this. Not so much this year. Yeah there were a few - and one couple we know well, so that was fun. But another couple that was there......it is a reason I get stymied by socializing.

One of them I know fairly well. His partner of 3-4 years not as much, though I've met him a dozen times. It's not that he doesn't remember my name - which he doesn't. It irks me that he doesn't remember me at all.

I'm not sure if this is his issue or mine. Well, clearly it is mine, I'm just not sure if it mine alone.

Maybe his memory sucks. Maybe he just doesn't care to know me, so why bother remembering my name of if he's ever met me. Naturally, I told one of my friends this little tidbit and when they approached, said, "well you remember Denton and Blobby". Of course, he replied in the affirmative, even though I don't believe him for a nanosecond.

And yes, I know I'm seemingly hypersensitive about a couple I really don't care about in the big picture. But I remember them and make them feel welcome, is it that hard to do the same? It's Cleveland and being gay - the community just isn't that big. Make a fucking effort, I say.

I've mentioned my lack of self-esteem in these issues over the years of this blog. I pretty much remember most folks, but always assume no one remembers me. Or I like to use it with self-deprecating humour - but it happens more than I care to believe. It sets off all kinds of triggers that dig in deeper that lack of self-esteem.

Am I not memorable??

Please, discuss amongst yourselves.



Song by: Gretchen Wilson

Party Doll

Last night we went to a party down the street.

It's always a nice affair, given by two of our friends - and it's in walking distance, so I can imbibe as much as I need want. They cater it and normally have it outdoors, but Mother Nature did not cooperate with the party planners.

On one hand, I did feel bad about the weather screwing up the party plans for the guys, but on the other, we needed the a seven hour rain so badly! And these guys adapted so well - the tables came inside and everyone still had a great time.

It was a mix of neighbors, friends - gay and not, and a number of people from the gym and one of my former employers. Plus a number of folks whom I had not met before.

The good was good. The company was good. The house is incredible. ...and of course, an open bar!

And there was a new puppy.

This is Tulley. He's not the new puppy. But he is a sweet as can be Wheaten Terrier. I could have gotten a full-on facial shot of him, but I liked this contrast a little better for a pic.

Tulley's brother, Grady, unfortunately passed away a few weeks ago. Since birth, they had never been a part from each other even for a day. I felt so bad for him. I feel so bad for Bill & Marty too.

But this is Calley (Cali?). A new 11 week old female Wheaten. Or as Bill calls her, 'Spawn of Satan'.

How can anything this cute be evil???? She just has a lot of energy as any 11 week old puppy would have.

She has more red in her than Grady or Tulley had. And she'll lighten up in color, but keep some red highlights apparently. She was so cute and soooo friendly. If I could get her and keep her that size for life, I'd get one like her in a heartbeat. I think Denton would too (though someone at the party thought his name was Duncan - which was new, even for us), as he thought Calley was just adorable.

Trying to not be the last ones there, like we end up normally being, we took a somewhat early departure and walked home in the rain, hand in hand.



Song by: Mary Chapin Carpenter