February 2005

Earl is off to Jacksonville, Fla. for the Super Bowl (go Eagles!) and I’m at home working an on-call weekend. It’s going to be interesting. This is one of the few occasions that I thank the universe for the cell phone, as Earl and I can easily keep in touch while we’re so far apart.

I’m busying myself around the house as super geek, installing Solaris on our old computers in the basement so that we have a place to back up our files. I’m contemplating shaving my beard off, simply because I’m becoming a little bored with it. I might do an all popcorn and iced tea diet for the weekend. I’ll exercise a lot. And I’ll goof off on the internet half the time.

I don’t think I’ve spent an entire weekend alone since Earl and I started seeing each other. This is kind of weird. Oh well, chalk it up to another experience.

A co-worker is celebrating her birthday today. She is describing today as one of the worst days of her life, simply because it’s her birthday. I think she’s nervous as she approaches the big 3-0, turning 28 today. It’s kind of unfair that she has to work on her birthday (I believe people she get their birthday off), but two others in our five person team had the day off, so she couldn’t really take it off as well. She generously offered to take tomorrow off instead. But it still kind of sucks that she has to work on her birthday.

It’s funny, but as I look back I don’t think I would ever want to relive my 20s. Definitely not my early 20s. I didn’t feel like I fit in with the crowd, I didn’t really know who I was and I didn’t really relate well to others around me. Part of that is still true, I’m the first to admit that I hear a different drum beat than most.

With most gay men, it’s about youth, youth, youth. “I need to look young.” “I need to feel young.” “I need young guys to like me.” At 36, I don’t really feel that need. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that need, even when I was 22. I’ve always been young at heart, but I don’t feel the need to be perceived as younger than I actually am. I’m always looking for new experiences. That can sometimes be perceived as a ‘young’ thing, but I just see it as part of life’s evolution. In my eyes, when you stop experiencing, you stop living. Then you’re coasting, and that’s no fun.

I recently saw an early 50s something guy at the mall desperately trying to look younger. He had an open shirt revealing a shaved chest. His hair was dyed various shades of platinum and strategically placed to cover up bald spots. But his eyes didn’t lie. His eyes revealed his true age, framed in the wrinkles and such that one earns through the passage of time. There was really nothing wrong with the way he looked, but he gave off the vibe of being afraid of what lies ahead. He didn’t carry himself with the confidence one would expect. Like he was playing a character part and he didn’t know all the lines.

I wanted to tell him to just celebrate his life. Celebrate all the experiences that have brought him to where he is today. I’ve recently learned to do that myself… look forward, accept life as it comes at you, make adjustments and changes as necessary and have no regrets.

Even if it’s not your birthday, celebrate who you are today. You might like what you see.

After several nights of restlessness, I am pleased to say that I got a wonderful night’s sleep last night. For the first time in a couple of days, I feel quite rested. I was a little surprised to wake up this morning after a night of sound sleep for a couple of reasons. I’m on call this week, which sometimes can lead to interruptions from my pager in the middle of night and, Earl’s in town and sometimes he’s restless which makes me restless. Last night I suffered from neither and today my mood proves that fact.

I realized a little while ago that I’ve been humming to myself today. Not any specific tune, just a quiet little ditty to myself. “Hum hum hum.” When I left for lunch, I was singing, out loud “To lunch, to lunch…” to the tune of “Tonight” from West Side Story. I should have really shocked them and sang “I Feel Pretty”, but I didn’t want to press my luck.

I don’t know if its feeling well rested or watching American Idol that’s making me feel so musical today, but I’m not complaining. It’s another balmy (32 degrees) February day in Upstate N.Y., full of sunshine. I guess that sparks the song in my heart.

Today was an absolutely glorious day. Work went well, the sun was out bright and human beings seemed to have their shit together. Why is it that when everything is going well, I seemed to get extra pissed at the human condition?

Earl and I watched last night’s Airline via TiVo tonight. I like the show. But I find it so damn frustrating. Are people acting the way they’re acting simply because there’s a camera on them, or do they really act like that in real life? There was a woman who was absolutely put off because her flight to Las Vegas was cancelled and she was bumped to a later flight. She said, not once but twice, that it’s a good thing that she’s self employed because she doesn’t know how the middle class people could travel under such restrictive circumstances, with the meager one week a year of vacation that they get. “Let them eat cake.”

“Let her eat my boot.” As I began yelling and starting to throw things at our television, Earl had to remind me that it was just a television show. And while I’m on the subject of Airline, please keep in mind that getting sloshed to the gills is not how we fly anymore. No, no, no. The martini days are over, you now have to be sober to board an aircraft.

Driving back to work at lunch earlier today, I was absolutely amazed that people were driving 35 MPH on our local expressway, which has a speed limit of 65 MPH. The sun was out, the sky was clear, the roads were dry and there was light traffic. I know the expressway is new, and it did replace a two-lane road that had the same route number with a lower speed limit. Just because the speed limit on the Old Route 49 was 40 does not mean the speed limit on the New Route 49 is 40.

Then we have this ass who thinks that PBS is trying to make the world gay because the bunny rabbit in a cartoon has two mommies. So what’s the natural reaction? Cut all funding to PBS of course! Another asshat in Washington. Yes, Margaret Spellings, its folks like you that get me all fired up about politics. You’ve got your panties in a knot because there was a cartoon that promoted tolerance to children. Why let them love one another when they need to be brainwashed to dislike anyone that’s not of the same color, sexual orientation, religion and/or moral thinking. That idiot in Oklahoma was worried about rampant lesbians, apparently you’re worried about rampant lesbians in cartoons. Go find an iceberg to sit on.

And you know what I don’t get? These young people smoking. H E L L O. Clue phone. It does not make you attractive. It makes you stink to high heaven and our tax money is going to have to fund your medical bills because you’re in the poor house paying for your expensive habit that is killing you. I think that if you were born after 1970 and you smoke, you should be exempt from any medicaid or medicare benefits. Period. You want to kill yourself? Fine. Just don’t do it on my dime. “You don’t know what it’s like to be addicted.” You’re right, I’ve never smoked in my life. I’m too smart for that.

I know I sound excessively cranky, but really, I’m not. Not at all. I’m quite happy, calm and serene today. I am just constantly shocked at the unbridled idiocy that has gripped this country.

Ok, I’ll get off the soapbox and leave it for the other blog.

As I was walking in the house during lunch, I heard a familiar, comforting sound near the door. It was the sound of water dripping, the unmistakable symptom of melting snow.

Mother Nature is being kind to us this week!

It’s the first of February and it’s sunny and 35 degrees as I type this entry. I’m sure there’s more winter ahead of us, but it’s days like this that give me a touch of spring fever. Our trip to Florida in three weeks is going to reinforce that fever even more.

I’m ready to hit the road, top on the Jeep down, sun in my face, wind at our backs.