Respect.

At work we have a television that silently shows a pictures from CNN. We’re suppose to use this TV to monitor the weather but we got bored watching the clouds roll by so a number of years ago we opted for the 24 hour news channel instead. This past week we’ve been silently following the fate of the miners in Utah but today Bush Lite was up there doing another press conference. Watching this man with the sound turned down is kind of interesting. It lets you look at his body language a little bit.

First of all, everything I say about the leader of the free world smacks completely contrary to what I was taught by my parents and my teachers as a child. It is ingrained deep into my morality that we should always respect the President of the United States and his office. I fully believe that. However, I can not bring myself to respect this current administration. I just can’t do it. I try. I look for good points but I find few. The current administration does not respect me, simply because I’m wired to be attracted to the same sex. (“If God made you that way, then God must have made a mistake.”) Furthermore, they don’t respect my relationship with Earl, even though we are completely in love, completely inseparable, the best of friends, and still crazy about each other after more than a decade of doing this whole “until death do us part” thing. And don’t even get me started on the war, civil liberties, failing infrastructure and the building economical nightmare.

So even though I respect the role of the president, I don’t respect the man or any member of this current administration. Heck, I respected Reagan and the first Bush more than I respect this guy. The man is a dumbass. As I was watching him on the screen, I can’t help but notice the “I can’t believe I’m president!” look on his face. I’d have more respect for the goons that sell “I can’t believe its not butter!”

I have to admit I’m already tiring of the 2008 presidential elections. The mud is slinging, the words are flying, the coverage is endless and it’s already exhausting and we’re still 15 months away from the decision. I’m not sure for whom I would vote, but I’m pretty confident that whoever takes the coveted prize next year will automatically earn my respect until proven otherwise.

‘Round The Clock Goodness.

Earl and I have just returned from one of our semi-nightly summer rides. When it’s hot and muggy and the air is thick we find it comforting to jump into the Jeep and drive around to cool off. We usually stop for a treat along the way.

Tonight’s stop was at Dunkin’ Donuts. There was a woofster working behind the counter. We think he belonged to the Jeep parked behind the store. The plates on the Jeep said “BEEFSTEW”. I’m really tempted to make some meat and potatoes jokes here. We didn’t take any pictures.

You know, I find it kind of humorous that 25 years ago the only thing you would find open at 10:00 p.m. was the Byrne Dairy, my hometown’s substitute for 7-11. Gas stations were closed, both chain grocery stores closed at 9:00, Ames closed at 9:30. Nowadays it’s odd for anything to close before midnight, with many establishments opting for the 24 hour deal. As Americans we demand instant access to anything and everything at any hour of the day. Back in the day everyone thought the management of Zayre had lost their mind by going 24 hours for the holidays. Heck, now our Planet Fitness is even open 24 hours. I guess it’s to help counter the guilt one feels for eating Dunkin’ Donuts this late at night.

There’s something decadent about going out late at night and grabbing a goody from the local Dunkin’ Donuts. Perhaps when historians write about these times they’ll call it the “Age of Decadence”.

Candid Camera.

During our merry little adventures, once in a while Earl and I will see a woofster out in the wild that simply takes our breath away. There are times we have common tastes so if we both “woof” at someone in unison and are armed with a camera, we might try to non-chalantly sneak a picture of said woofster. It’s a rare event, but it happens.

We did the candid camera routine during our 2005 visit to the House of the Mouse. This handsome bear and his partner were at Epcot at the same time as we were and happened to be taking photos near where we were standing. Earl and I woofed in unison and we snuck a photo for our little woofster collection. His picture even made it into our Disney scrapbook, evoking a question from my sister, “Who’s that?” “Oh, just someone cute.”

Well we ran into Mr. Woofster online last night. Doing a search of Albany turns out he lives in Albany, Ga. I was busy in the studio when I heard Earl yell – “You’re not going to believe this.” There he was in all his world wide web glory. So we dropped him a line and said hello and admitted that we snuck a photo of him.

I think he was flattered, however, I don’t think we made the same impression. Nonetheless, at least we now have a name to go with the face.

Iceberg Ahead.

There are many uncertainties when a person joins a workgroup environment. Will the person in the cube next to me use their perfume as a marinade? Does anyone count the number of trips that I make to the bathroom? Will I get hollered at for standing on my chair to talk to the person in the next cube over? Luckily, my fears have gone unfounded on these questions unless the NSA is keeping track of me pee breaks or something.

The chief concern of our workgroup boils down to two simple words. Temperature control. I discovered early on that he who holds the rights to the thermostat essentially holds the secrets to the universe.

Working in a fancy place called the “Network Operations Center”, we have a LOT of computer equipment and related electronic devices scattered all over the place. To maintain optimum efficiency, it’s important that they run at their proper temperature, so the room has to be relatively cool to achieve this. Being a diehard geek I totally get this and understand it and so I know how to deal with it. I do have metabolism on my side, however, as my body temperature is always unusually low, hovering around 95 or so degrees Fahrenheit. I’m hardly ever cold. Except when I’m at work. At work, I freeze to death.

The room is actually a bunch of smaller rooms with all the walls knocked down and then subsequently divided up by having cubicles thrown all over the place. Our supervisor sits in the middle of the chaos and closest to the thermostat. He holds the secrets to the universe. Having to deal with the headaches associated with his job and other fun scenarios, it’s understandable that his blood pressure boils and makes him warm. So he cools the place down by spinning the dial down. This results in a couple of things. The co-worker behind me starts chattering her teeth like Linus waiting for the Great Pumpkin to arrive. The co-worker next to me wraps up in a shawl, sometimes so tightly that she looks like she’s mourning the death of something. Apparently I’m cold blooded because I go into hibernation mode where my eyes glaze over, my web browser browses aimlessly and I eat little scraps of food. I then announce that I’m coming back from lunch with a parka, complete with hood. To add to the fun, I bark over the intercom for someone to pick up a can of Alpo for the sled dogs.

It is then that a brave soul takes a letter opener and jimmies it under the thermostat control, getting the dials to spin in the other direction. Good by Alaska, hello Arizona. But at least it’s a dry heat.

And so it goes, eight hours of a temperate roller coaster. I have to admit though, I kind of enjoy the ride and the folks I’m riding with.

Bedtime.

What’s a night owl to do on a hot, muggy summer night in the beginning of August? The alarm is set for 6:00 a.m. I have hopes of going for a bike ride before getting ready for and to work by 8:00. I’m not tired at all. I can’t even fake being tired right now. All that’s going through my head is that my alarm is going to blare out the news on NPR in less than seven hours.

God bless Earl. I’ve already tried going to bed with him and purposely falling to sleep by his side. I’ve sang “Mr. Sandman” complete with bass line. I’ve chatted like some crazy cross between a whippoorwill and a loon. I’ve done impressions of Earl’s soon-to-arrive CPAP machine by covering my mouth with my hands, breathing really hard and saying “Luke, I am your father.” I’ve flipped back and forth and ended up with my knee in Earl’s back. I’ve played the beginning rhythm of Copacabana on his bare ass. He finally blurted out, “Would you shut the f*ck up?!?” His statement was full of love, no worries there.

I’m still not asleep.

Sigh. Night owls shouldn’t have to fake the day life.

Spin Again.

Once upon a time I was a club and radio DJ. While I didn’t enjoy the politics or business side of radio that much, I really enjoyed spinning tracks in a club or at parties. I am decidedly very gay DJ as you won’t find me playing the Macarena or Alley Cat at a wedding, nor will I let the dogs out over a bar mitzvah. My talents are best served for the gay bear crowd.

Over the past 48 hours or so I’ve been obsessing about spinning in a club again. I think it’s because I recently turned down an offer to be Program Director for the local Kiss-FM as I really don’t have an interest as what’s being called Top 40 music these days. But I am feeling the need to do some mixing in a club. I want to get a dance floor jammed with hot, sweaty, gyrating people pumped up. I want to command the pulse of the party.

Last night I entertained Earl with a 35 minute or so set off the PowerBook. It was at 35 minutes in that I realized I was recording the whole thing in mono, which doesn’t sound very good to the ears, so I did a quick fade in the middle of whatever was playing. However, I’ve been keeping up with the latest music and my mixes were tight so it was good practice. I think I’m going to make another run at it tonight.

I’m thinking that if I could spin in a bar again I could make some money as a struggling college student and enjoy what I’m doing at the same time. If I had my way, I’d love to spend a summer working at one of the gay campgrounds, but they all seem to be set in the DJ department these days.

Oh well, at least I’m able to entertain Earl and me.

Bumble Bee.

With another beautiful day upon us, I decided to take full advantage of the weather, dress up like a bumble bee of sorts and hit the pavement with my bicycle. Earl took the obligatory shot of me in my cycling gear, complete with my new cycling glasses. I’m also excited because I found my cycling headband and cover so I don’t have sweat dripping in my eyes.

Cycling.

Not really having a destination in mind, I ended up riding the local streets and roads and the Rail Trail that was built back in 2005. All in all I clocked in 25 miles in about 1 1/2 hours. My body is feeling worked out but that’s all good. It helps combat the lingering effects from the field days food from last night.

Years ago I rode a number of times with the local cycling group. They must have had money to burn as their cycling clothes often matched their bicycle. As you can see by the picture, I enjoy dressing up like a bumble bee but I create a huge faux pas by wearing a blue helmet, red and black gloves and then of course my red road bike. This created gasps of dismay in the cycling club. Well, they also didn’t like the fact that I wore my camelback (backpack with built in water supply) while I rode as they preferred to have a van follow along with the fancy water bottles.

I guess I’m a loner of sorts when it comes to cycling, which is really not a surprise since I’m a loner by nature. I am looking forward to riding with Thom in Virginia this fall when the leaves are changing color. He’s a great guy and like minded in many ways.

I guess Earl will follow along with the fancy water bottles.

Field Days.

Pulaski Field Days.

After a lazy day of relaxation, catching up on sleep time via a few cat naps and more relaxation, Earl and I decided to get our day started around 6:00 p.m. After finally showering and getting dressed, we hopped in the Jeep and headed for my home town for the annual “Field Days”.

We didn’t make it in time for the parade, which we heard was rather disappointing, but we did arrive near supper time, so we headed for the chicken barbecue in the beer tent. I waved hello to several former classmates along the way. Good ol’ chicken dinners were being sold for $7.00 a piece. Accompanying your half of a chicken was some macaroni salad, a dinner roll and some cold baked beans. Earl and I have never been able to figure out why they serve cold baked beans. Why bake the beans if you’re going to serve them cold? The chicken seasoning seems to be pure salt, but that may be why they’re being sold in the beer tent, so that you buy more beer. We skipped the beer and stuck to pop.

Attendance seemed to be rather low at the Field Days this year. Back in my day, the field would be shoulder to shoulder with people after the big parade. Tonight you could clearly see from one end of the field to the other. I found this rather odd. We did see several people from my high school days, which is always a delight. We even ran into my best friend from high school. In my junior and senior year people thought he and I were dating, and we could have since we’re both gay and all, but we never dated. On overnight trips with the band and chorus and whatnot people assumed we would share a bed, and we did, but we never did the touchies. Perhaps that was a missed opportunity. Who knows.

It’s funny that my two closest friends in high school were also gay. I had several other gay friends in school as well. Earl has asked what was in the water, as he didn’t remember so many gay people in his high school, which was bigger than my school. Maybe us farm boys like to roll in the hay after all.

After our run at the Field Days, we took the long way home and met my mother at a 24 hour diner for some dessert and some chatter. It was a great spontaneous visit. I like doing that from time to time.

Oh – and today is my 6th blogaversary! “Life is such a sweet insanity” turns six years old today. Yay!

Friday Afternoon.

Today I’m running some errands, doing some research for my roadgeek website and just enjoying the beautiful summer weather. My first stop was a local bike shop to pick up some needed tubes and some proper cycling glasses, courtesy of a gift certificate from my mother and my sister. I was actually able to buy two pair of glasses that are just perfect, one for day riding and one for riding in the evening or at night (they’re very slightly tinted). I feel like one of the cool kids when I have them on. I’ll have to share a picture in my full gear.

Now I’m sitting at a Panera, trying to eat a sandwich that deconstructed itself as soon as I touched it. The bread slid one way, the cheese another and the mayo laughed it’s head off.

For some reason I’m absolutely delighted about a rather large party that is taking up several tables in the middle of the eating area. They seem to be having a birthday celebration for a grandmotherly looking woman that reminds me a little bit of my “grandma city”*, especially in her demeanor. Her gift is a large potted plant arrangement. The way her eyes are sparkling at the gesture has made my day.

There’s a number of people surfing the internet and conducting business on their computers and cell phones here. Surprisingly, they’re not intrusive about their conversations at all. I like to think that my constant complaining of cell phone use on this blog is getting the message out there that we don’t appreciate that sort of rudeness, but they’re probably just cell phone savvy. I don’t have that many readers.

I’m curious as to what the weekend has in store for us. This was to be the weekend that my high school alumni marching band made it’s debut, but too many people bailed out of the project on me, leaving me with a tuba player, a trumpet player and a bunch of flute players. Maybe next year. Earl and I have thrown around a few places to travel to, including Niagara Falls, Pittsburgh or Baltimore, but I think we might enjoy the summer sun rather locally and perhaps go to the field days in my home town.

* I’m sick of writing “maternal” and “paternal” grandmother, as it sounds entirely too formal to me, so I’ve opted for “grandma city” and “grandma country”. My sister and I were fortunate to have two loving grandmothers that were different in many respects.

Infrastructure.

35W

As a budding Civil Engineer with dreams of working for the Department of Transportation, it’s only natural that I am very interested in yesterday’s tragedy in Minnesota, where a bridge that carries Interstate 35W over the Mississippi River collapsed, plunging several vehicles and their occupants into the river below. While I understand the scope of this tragedy, I have to admit that I am a little dismayed at the media “hype machine” that’s kicked into gear. It seems like reporters are nearly grabbing family members of the victims from the site and trying to get an interview. I think that’s kind of rude.

While there will undoubtedly be an investigation into the cause of the collapse, I think we are seeing a symptom of a growing concern in the United States, and that’s our aging transportation infrastructure.

The bulk of the interstate highway system was built around 50 years ago. Naturally, there have been improvements, modifications, inspections and whatnot along the way, however, many of the bridges and roadways in the U.S. are nearing the end of their shelf life. Unfortunately, with a seemingly unending war that is costing hundreds of billions of dollars and an American need for an increase in vehicle size and such, our roads are getting abused without the monetary support necessary to keep them in shape.

When I was a child there was talk about removing the tolls from the New York State Thruway. This was slated to happen some time between 1992 and 1996, though it never did. I think this is a good thing. As a young driver, I couldn’t wait for the Thruway to be “free”; as a more experienced adult, I find tolls to be a good thing because the road is being paid for by the people that use them. I don’t have a problem with tolls as long as they are used for what they’re intended for and that’s the upkeep and improvement of the roadway that’s being tolled. I’m NOT in favor of hiring toll booth operators at a huge salary simply to hand out tickets or push a “GO” button to let an E-ZPass car through, to me that’s a huge waste of money. However, I am in favor of tolls if it’s going to keep our roads in better shape and allow various transporation agencies to do their job and work to make driving safer for all involved.

I’m also in favor of increasing the tax on fuel. As Americans, while we bitch about gas being nearly $3.00 a gallon in actuality we have some of the cheapest gas prices in the world. Perhaps if we all paid a few more cents at the pump and/or drove smaller vehicles that didn’t beat up the road as much, we could avoid tragedies like the bridge collapse in Minnesota yesterday.