December 2005

Hold On Tight.

Time, keeps flowing like a river
To the sea

Whomever sang that song in the 70s was a nut. Time does not flow like a river. Time flows like raging rapids with the waterfalls just ahead and no life jacket in sight. But would we rather have it any other way? Sometimes I feel like you just need to grab on and go for the bumpy, twisty, intense ride that we call life. Where does the time go? It seems like it was just yesterday that I spotted a very attractive man staring at me from across the bar. The was back late in 1995. Why it feels like we just moved into this house. That was December 2003. Tom is just a kitten. He’s tipping 12.

Where does the time go?

Because of my fascination with time; my collection of synchronized school clocks, my internal clock constantly reminding me of upcoming events (i.e. “only 2 3/4 hours left in the workday today!”), the fact that I have a clock within eyeshot at all times, it feels like time is just speeding along at an outrageous pace. Am I really 37 years old? I certainly don’t feel 37, I feel like the young man that was ready to take on the world who decided college wasn’t really right for him. In fact, I feel younger now than I did three or four years ago. All my body parts are working properly and aside from my constant mixing up of words punctuated with my usual stammering and stuttering, my mind doesn’t feel cluttered. I feel like I’m on my game right now. I don’t want that feeling to end. I refuse to let time take over.

But where does the time go? It seems like yesterday that Earl and I were looking at the holiday season with lots of time to do everything we need to do. Now he’s trotting around the eastern seaboard on business and I’m dreading that one last trip to the mall to pick up last minute Christmas gifts. On Saturday we’re sitting down to send out our Christmas cards, going grocery shopping for the party we’re hosting on Wednesday for Earl’s co-workers and clean the house from top to bottom, in between the two Christmas parties were are attending this weekend.

When do we get to sit down and catch our breath?

Why.

I was recently asked why I feel the need to have a blog. Why do I basically live my life out loud on the internet, eternally framed in bits and bytes forever and ever amen. I couldn’t come up with a definitive reason when I was asked this question, but the various reasons have been among the multitude of thoughts jumping around my head as of late, so I thought I would write it all down.

One of the reasons I have a blog is because I enjoy telling a good tale and I enjoy writing. I’m not the world’s best writer by any stretch of the imagination (perhaps I could win a junior high writing contest by a slim margin), but I feel that I make up for it with proper capitalization, enhancing adjective use and a judicious use of commas. One of my favorite writers of all time was humorist Erma Bombeck. She always had a unique flair to her words and a quick wit to act as the cherry on top of a delightfully delicious novel or newspaper column sundae. If I was a stay at home lazy bear, with lots of time to do housework, I would probably aspire to be the gay male version of Erma. I’d also probably clean the living room drapes by setting fire to them.

This space also serves as a way for others to know what’s going on with the both of us. Earl and I like to think we live life as an adventure, whether we’re exploring a new diner, throwing some bucks around an out of the way mall or walking up to the edge of Area 51 in Nevada. I like to share our experiences with the world.

I like to think that those that read this blog find Earl and I to be two guys that are very, very much in love, committed to one another in every possible sense and are as close to married as the current laws will allow two men to be. I don’t want our relationship to be a role model, as every relationship is unique in it’s own way, but I do like to demonstrate that there are gay couples out there that stand the test of time and really mean it when we say “it’s forever”.

You may have noticed that the world map/reader counter that was in the sidebar is gone. It was a little trinket I had added to the site for a couple of months. Initially I was curious as to how many people actually visited the site on a daily basis. The number was never consistent and quite frankly, I don’t really care how many people stop by. It’s not that I don’t care. I just don’t have to be at the top of the charts. There are some wonderful, engaging bloggers out there that have hundreds or thousands of readers a day. These folks win prestigious blogging awards and have comment lists longer than our grocery list and computer inventory list combined. And I’m very happy for them. They are great writers and have very interesting blogs. But I’m content to have my little corner of the internet here and whomever stops by does and those who pass me by do.

I could go on and on and on but then it would get boring to read this and you’d invariably click the back button. I’d just like to thank you for stopping by my little corner here. I hope it didn’t scare you too much.

Cookie Production.




Cookie Production.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Earl and I just completed Act I of our annual Christmas Production: “Parade of the Cookies.” If you look at the photo, you’ll notice the ever-present chocolate chip cookies on the left, followed by sugar cookies on the right.

Note the subtle color on the sugar cookies. In a proud Martha Stewart moment, Earl mixed a little food coloring with regular sugar to make a festive little sprinkle for the cookie tops. It adds just a hint of color without being garish. Add one point to our gay membership cards.

Dreaming With Angels.

Early this morning I had the most interesting dream. As I look back on it, it’s odd to refer to it as a dream, because it seems to have been more of an experience. Whatever it was, the effects from it have lingered with me all day long.

Anyways, in the dream I was no longer living in my body. I was fully aware of who I was, I knew myself to be ‘me’. I could go anyplace I wished by just thinking about it. I could fly by just wishing to fly, not in a Superman sort of way as I definitely was not wearing red tights in this dream, but I could float to whereever I wanted to go and it felt like second nature. I flew over a very large valley with twinkling crystal-like lights and vibrant purples, blues, silvers and golds for as far as the eye could see. The sky was almost a rose color.

The colors in this dream were beyond brilliant. They were breathtaking. The color of anything and everything was more colorful than anything we have here in reality. It was as if the color itself had a life of its own.

So here I am, basically a ghost or spirit or soul just walking and flying about. I can see my loved ones; Earl, my sister, my mom and dad, but they can’t see me. I touch them and they seem to have an impression of me, but they can’t actually see or hear me. As I touch them, I know that they feel comfort. Contentment. They don’t seem particularly sad without my touch, its just the feeling my presence makes them feel even better. (Perhaps someone is telling me that I’m full of myself?)

Then all of a sudden, there is a bright, golden apparition appearing next to me. As the being appears, I realize it’s my cousin’s daughter Lindsey, who passed away nearly two years ago. As I look at her, she is absolutely breathtaking beautiful. Now Lindsey was a beautiful young woman when she passed, and here her beauty is, well, accelerated, by the inner golden glow that I see all around her. She is infinitely happy. She tells me to write in my blog that “it’s all good, the best is really yet to come.” She then vanishes with a flash of gold and the hint of a giggle, and literally jumps on to the wings of the wind.

I then woke up, feeling wonderful for the most part but with just a hint of sadness because I couldn’t fly anymore. I wish my writing ability could accurately convey how I felt during my dream and how I feel today.

But sometimes words just don’t do it justice.

Practice Makes Perfect.




Piano.

Originally uploaded by macwarriorny.

Tonight I started getting ready for the holiday celebrations by practicing some Christmas carols. I’ve never had one-on-one piano lessons in my life; the closest I came to that was a very early morning piano class when I was a Music Education major at SUNY Fredonia. And that was a disaster because as I’ve mentioned before, I’m not an early morning person. And I didn’t really care for college. And I had no interest in learning how to play “God Save The Queen”. So I play by ear.

My grandmother’s piano, and in my heart it will always be my grandmother’s piano though I guess it’s ours now, sounds as wonderful as I remember. It’s amazing how each piano has it’s own unique sound, however subtle the difference may be. To play it requires a firm touch, whereas the piano my folks had when I was growing up accepted a softer touch. This piano also has a distinct smell that I thought was inherent to their house but I guess it was the piano that carried the scent all these years. Or perhaps the piano smells like my grandparents’ house. Nevertheless, walking into our newly dubbed “music room” is such a joy.

I don’t think the piano has been played very much in the past ten years since my grandmother passed away. There’s some keys that need work (you can see them in the picture), the middle pedal needs its spring replaced since it was robbed long, long ago the fix the right pedal. It needs tuning.

But the music is so sweet. I’m actually looking forward to playing “Silent Night” in my own unusual way on Christmas morning.

Peameal Bacon Sandwich.

Earl and I, along with our friends Tim and Steve, headed over to St. Lawrence Market today in Toronto to do a little shopping among the natives. Tim and Steve introduced us to Peameal Bacon Sandwiches. W00t they are TASTY! Yummy, yummy, yummy.

St. Lawrence Market is much like Reading Terminal in Philadelphia in that it’s a huge building with various vendors (mostly food) selling their wares. People wander about, it’s got a “barely clean” feel to it, basically it’s controlled chaos. I love it.

After the peameal bacon sandwiches, we headed to a kitchen gadget place that sold the exact cookie cutters I’ve been looking for! These cookie cutters have a handle and serrated/ridged blade that my grandmother used for sugar cookies. I intend to do the same. I’ve held back on making sugar cookies until I could find these cookie cutters and now I’m good to go.

After St. Lawrence Market we headed over to the Distillery District and browsed through the galleries in these renovated old mills and factories. It was a typically chilly Toronto day in December, so we warmed up at a coffee shop with a little pastry, I had organic hot chocolate.

Then it was onto the Eaton Centre for some shopping. We were going to buy the last of our Christmas gifts but I ended up buying some clothes for myself. A couple of heavy, long sleeved shirts from the Timberland store. Just my style. I’ll model them for the blog during the week.

After we did our bit at the Eaton Centre, we headed back to the states. As we driving along the QEW in the bumper to bumper traffic, two cars in front of us came to a screeching halt, causing the car in between us to naturally stop as well. The driver of the car that initially stopped then got out of his car and walked to the car in front of us and started beating the driver! He opened the door, grabbed the guy, and started punching him! I guess he didn’t appreciate the tailgating. So then he slammed the door and started back to his car, where the ‘victim’ then bumped into the car in front of him! The guy came back and started opening the door again, but this time it was apparently locked. By then we were able to get the hell out of there. I must admit that was the worst case of road rage I had ever seen.

After we got back to the states (and breezed through customs, I made add), we headed to a local pub for supper – I had the traditional Buffalo Beef on Weck that was out of this world. Now we’re resting up a bit before heading to Bear Night here in Downtown Buffalo.

I love weekends like this.

Toronto.

Earl and I are spending the night in Toronto with our friends Tim and Steve. We just got back from dinner in Chinatown. I have no idea what I had for dinner. I looked for familiar ingredients and pointed at the menu. When the server appeared to ask if we enjoyed our meal I rubbed my stomach, smacked my lips and said “yummy” in a very loud voice.

Of course I’m kidding about that. It is true that I have no idea what I ate though. It was quite tasty for what it’s worth.

If you’re up to the minute with my blog entries, you probably saw some cell phones pictures on here for a little while. I took a look at them after checking in the hotel and found that the quality absolutely sucked so I deleted them. Photo quality is important to me. Apparently I’ve dropped my cell phone too many times and screwed up the built in camera. Oh well. Good thing I brought the real camera along!

Tonight we’re going to enjoy a little bit of the nightlife here in Toronto. It’s been a very long time since we’ve been up here and it’s a welcomed change of pace.

One of the things that I really enjoy about Toronto is the particular dialect of English spoken up here. It sounds so refined. So distinguished. A number of years ago I did some diction work to improve my speaking voice (and de-emphasize my nasal Central New York accent) on the radio and I used a couple of Canadian personalities as examples to mimic. That practice kicks into high gear whenever we’re up here.

I’m looking forward to going out tonight. It should be a good time. Steve and Tim are always fun to play around with.