Ponderings and Musings

I glance out the window and see large snowflakes quietly and peacefully falling from the sky. There’s no wind blowing them around, no ice or sleet mixed in to spoil the fun, just beautiful snowflakes settling in for the winter. I find this to be absolutely beautiful. The camera on my iPhone 5 doesn’t do the moment justice, the closest I can come to capturing the beauty is to use my “real” camera. Luckily, it is close at hand.

Scenes like these, with the delicate beauty and soft calmness I rarely find elsewhere, remind me as to why I love living in Central New York. Sure, I dream of living in other places and I will probably live in another place someday, but only if I can find moments similar to this. Central New York will always be home.

This moment, this calmness, is a beautiful way to start a beautiful New Year.

17 years ago this evening there were two men standing on the end of a pier at Penn’s Landing in Philadelphia. In the cold, dark December night, these two men were accompanied by a young couple, and it was at this time that the two men held hands, said some vows and exchanged wedding rings. The two witnesses watched with a smile, the moment was private, quiet and perfect. There were hugs, there were tears, there was beauty.

Even though it was in 2011 when New York State said we could be married, in reality, 17 years ago today I married my best friend. Many said it wouldn’t last, saying that we could never settle down. Others couldn’t figure out the union of a geeky farm boy from Upstate New York and a business leader originally from lower Bucks County. But the two that watched the small ceremony that night knew what we knew all along: some things are built to last. We had the honor of being there when the young couple built their reality. Life is wonderful that way.

Earl and I were recently talking about life and relationships and the like and both of us agreed on one thing: divorce has never crossed our mind. We might get angry in the moment, we might want to kill each other, I yell and he yells back, but divorce has never been an option for us. The “bad” (and it’s not really that bad when you think about it) is fleeting, and the good is forever and definitely outweighs everything else.

Right before the first time I told him that I loved him he said, “you better mean it if you’re going to say it”. When I got down on one knee at the top of Rocky Mountain in the Adirondacks and proposed to him he said, “you better mean it forever if you’re going to ask it.” And when I told him that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, I told him that it was forever. That has never changed. And the last 17 years have whizzed by in a flash. I still fall in love every day.

So, as I sit at the kitchen table typing this blog entry during my lunch hour, and I gaze at my husband, framed in a beautiful backdrop of a snowy landscape, courtesy of the patio door, I know that while this very moment is fleeting and will be superseded by another moment, I know that this journey is forever. I have been truly and utterly in love for over 17 years and I have no intention on stopping now.

A repost of a blog entry I wrote a while back.

It was 1990 and I was living in Jamestown, New York. I had just returned to Jamestown in September, having lived in greater Boston with a really cool tech-job for what was at the time the second largest computer company in the world. I had made some unfortunate choices thinking I would find something better with the move. There was also a strong element of me trying to hold on to some good feelings from my past with that move to Jamestown and while I don’t regret any choices I have made, I certainly wouldn’t dub that era a “shining moment” of my life.

I was working in the layaway department of the long-gone Hills Department Store. The folks found that I was really good at that sort of thing and were planning on adding me to the sound and video department of the store after the holidays. I was often called up front to run a register and always ended up on register 16, the express lane. It was on the end of the network loop so it ran the slowest. My speed and efficiency as a cashier apparently helped in this situation. I wore an off-purple vest.

It was Christmas Eve. I had no one special in my life. My parents lived 275 miles away. I was scheduled to work until the store closed at 1800. I wore a Santa hat for the occasion. Along with the little beard, the get up either made me look like a young Kris Kringle or a big elf. It was snowing like hell and the express lane was populated with men buying last minute gifts for their loved ones. Their faces indicated stress. I wanted to see my family.

The plan was to leave right after work and make the trek to my folks in time for church. We closed the store and I jumped on Route 60 with hopes of hitting the Thruway. Everyone was driving slowly and and foolishly and then a deer decided he was angry because he didn’t have “rein” before that which describes his species so he ran across Route 60 to get that beat Hyundai. I slammed on the brakes and slid to the right, barely missing a sign declaring I was at a Parking Area. I spun my tires and backed up and into the Parking Area and composed my thoughts.

I look skyward and speaking to whomever I thought was god at the time, I said “I just want to go home for Christmas. Once I do that, it’ll all be better.”

With that I continued my trek up to the Thruway and headed home in crazy snow for most of the trip. What should have taken four and a half hours extended to nearly six; I made to my folks just in time to go to the Methodist church in town for the candlelight Christmas Eve service. I remember thinking a loud “thank you” in my head for making it home safely.

That is when I truly felt the Christmas spirit and that carols and the lights and the candles and being with my family made me feel like it was all good. I can’t tell you what I got that year for a gift, save for a videotape of Madonna’s “Justify My Love” because I always remember dirty things, but shortly after that holiday I left Hills when I was hired full-time as a house manager for the local ARC. With that I found my path again and was able to make the move to where we live today.

It was in 1990 that I found my path and found myself back where I belonged. And it was the Christmas spirit that put me there.

A couple of bloggers that I follow have announced that they are focusing more on their blogs again and less on their social networking via Facebook, etc. I find this interesting because I have been thinking the same thing, though I haven’t done a lot about it yet. The trend over the last several years has been to abandon your blog and blurt out nuggets of content in 140 characters or less. I’m happy to see that some are going against that grain.

Back in August I tried to blog via Google+, where I would write my blog entry on Google+ (and have it shared all over Google) and then it would be pushed to my blog here, which in turn would push it to Facebook and Twitter. It didn’t really work that well and when push came to shove, I wasn’t pleased with the set up. While I enjoy the interaction I have with others on Google+ (for the most part), I didn’t like the fact that the photos I posted or that my words weren’t actually living on *my* webspace, they were living on Google’s. And when it comes to Google I’m more Sybil-like than usual: I love the “freemium” services that Google provides and then I hate the fact that they’re ad-supported and being used for data mining purposes, so I go all hot and cold and I decided that it would just be best to use my webspace and then push my words out to other places. At least this way I still own the content.

There are times that I worry that this blog is a waste of bandwidth for all involved but then I rationalize its existence by saying that if you don’t want to visit, you don’t have to, so I just keep on doing what I’m doing. Some days I think about writing a blog under a pseudonym, where I’ll change the names to protect the innocent and everything, so I feel completely free to say what I’m thinking and feeling, but then I get lazy and just write it here. I don’t really censor my words on my blog; I think it’s safe to say that if you were to meet me in person you’d find that I’m like I represent myself to be here.

Maybe this blog thing will catch on big someday.

The other day I told Earl that I was seriously questioning the value that being on Facebook brings to my life. On one hand, connecting to friends and family through Facebook allows me to connect to those I haven’t seen in a really long time and/or with those that live quite a ways away. In that regard, I think Facebook is great. However, outside of that, I’m finding Facebook to be a study in frustration lately.

First of all, why can’t I just look at my timeline in chronological order from newest to oldest. If I wanted to be part of a popularity contest I’d run in one of the many gay-themed contests that are available to the today’s homosexual or I’d go back to high school and sit at the corner table in the lunch room. It’s not my bag.

Yesterday a local friend commented that someone she is “friends” (her quotes, not mine) with on Facebook didn’t recognize her in real life and from what I remember, kind of ignored her. Well that’s not really being friendly, in my opinion. She commented that she’s going to need to weed out her friends list again and of course I shared my two cents on the subject: “if you can’t hug them, don’t friend them.” I came up with that at that moment. I’m deep like that.

I know tons of people that use Facebook to make friends. They seek out likeminded individuals and friend them, with hopes of making a connection someday. I’ve made several friends on Facebook over the years, however, I usually “friend” someone on Facebook after I’ve met them some other way, even if it’s through some other social network like Twitter or a message board or something. Generally, my rule is I won’t friend someone unless I’ve met them In Real Life or I plan on meeting them in the relatively near future (say, within the next year). And my rule, despite my use of salty language from time to time, is that I use Facebook for content that is PG-13 at the max. There are plenty of other sites for R and above, there’s no need to mingle that sort of thing with pictures of your Aunt Matilda. I friend people on Facebook because I genuinely like them or at one time I thought I liked them.

Over the past several months I’ve tried to follow some of the interest groups on Facebook: road geek stuff, maybe some gay bear stuff, etc., but I’m finding that those boards remind me way too much of the old America Online days when everything was inside of the AOL framework. I like the idea of information being free and I believe that discussions such as politics or the merits of the shape of a route marker or whether celebrity X looks better with or without facial hair belongs in a forum where everyone has access, not just to the folks that have jumped on the Facebook train. So last week I gave up on the discussion areas. I might browse a political discussion once in a while or I might “like” a subject, but I’m much more comfortable on the message boards geared for these topics. On those boards I might make friends that I would want to meet in real life, then we’d end up as friends on Facebook. That’s how I see the workflow working best for me.

I’ve been weeding out a few extraneous friend connections on Facebook on a daily basis over the past week or so and I’ll probably continue to do so through the end of the year. A while back Earl and I joined a group of guys for drinks and I introduced myself to one of the others in the party, who had absolutely no recognition of me whatsoever. He didn’t know who I was with, who I was, where I was or anything. Quite frankly he was a little standoffish. I was in my usually friendly sorts as I tried to strike up a conversation and I mentioned to him, “oh, I saw on Facebook that you’re thinking about changing careers.”

“How do you see my Facebook feed? It’s private!”. He seemed shocked.

“Uh, we’ve been friends on Facebook for several months now”, I stammered.

“Oh”. He went back to his air of quasi-disinterest. The conversational void must have been of my doing so I went back to amusing myself with watching people chew or something.

I unfriended him when we got back home. I don’t think he noticed.

Recently a “friend” went on a rant about Tim Cook not being “out” enough. That pushed me over the edge. While I fully believe that a militant-homophobe can be quite dangerous to the LGBT community, I also fully believe that a militant-homosexual can be just as dangerous. Tim Cook has never denied being gay. He doesn’t really talk about it but he doesn’t deny it. What do I care? It’s his life. Who says that a public figure needs to be wearing a neon sign and scream about gay rights every breathing moment? He’s not running around with a woman claiming to be married to her. There’s no dishonesty. Why complain from the cheap seats? Since I’m weeding out negativity in my life, I decided that I didn’t need to follow this “friend” after all. Delete delete delete.

I’ve been scolded for using the term “I’m just a guy with a husband”. I use it on several of my profiles. It’s just way I talk. I’m loud enough with my gayness, I don’t need to scream it with every online introduction. “Why don’t you say you’re gay?” My response of, “I believe being a guy with a husband is pretty much a no brainer that I’m gay” didn’t hold water in his aquarium. They’d really gasp at my old tag line of “more guy than gay.”

I’ve been scolded for not having a beard anymore. “A man that shaves is called a woman.” Aside from the implied “less than” when it comes to being a woman, my response was, “Yeah? Tell that to the soldiers keeping you safe, or the fireman that has raced into a burning home to save lives or to the pilot that landed the plane to safety while you choked for air on the oxygen mask that fell from the panel above your head, because none of them have beards either.” Besides, in the grand scheme of things, who cares what I look like? It’s my face and if I’m still getting kissed after nearly 18 years of being with my husband, I must be doing something right. As for the friend that likes to scold? Delete delete delete.

What all of this rambling boils down to is, my list of 250+ friends on Facebook is dwindling rather quickly. I have no problem with this. I’d rather just enjoy life for what it is, in the moment and share it with those that have had some sort of positive impact in my existence. As I have grown fond of saying lately, “I’m either becoming obsolete or just plain old fashioned.”

Now keep those kids off my lawn.

Tim Cook recently spoke at Auburn University as he received the Lifetime Achievement Award. I hope everyone hears the words of his speech.

So this grocery store was just a little over a mile from the house I grew up in. Sometimes it seemed like we were there once a day, tagging along with mom as we picked something up for supper that night (that might be a slight exaggeration). I always had one of those Hostess Apple Pies as a treat. As an adult I wish I still had the ability to burn all those calories.

I always liked the original sign on the front of the building. While they used to be common in communities around where I grew up (there were quite a few “Red and White”s, most of these signs are long gone. It’s great to see these in such good shape.

It’s a shame that the store has closed down. A victim of a shrinking community, it just couldn’t hold its own anymore.

At least the sign is holding up.

So if you were following my Twitter feed on Thursday night, you probably noticed that my contribution to the Twitterverse blew up starting at 8:00 p.m. (7:00 p.m. Central) in tandem with “The Sound of Music Live!” on NBC. In a way I was excited to see what NBC would do with this perennial classic, but another side of me was wondering why on earth they were trying to redo another perennial classic. Because I have a brain made of Swiss cheese, I had forgotten that it was on until Earl was flipping through channels on the television in search of “The X-Factor”. I suggested we watch this exciting live performance.

I was kind of snarky on Twitter during the presentation. Ok, I was probably more than “kind of” snarky, but the truth of the matter is, I was smart enough to refrain from posting the very inappropriate joke I made about “The X-Factor” when Earl and I decided that we needed to flip away from “The Sound of Music Live!” for a little while.

On Friday there were a bunch of people posting bunches of things about “The Sound of Music Live!” and I added my two cents to the discussion. I think this conversation was taking place on the CNN site, but it basically boiled down to this:

1. The sound mix was horrible. There was this ridiculous hissing throughout the program and I firmly believe that technology today is at a point where we should be able to get the hiss out of the sound mix before going live before millions of viewers.
2. Audra McDonald was phenomenal.
3. Carrie Underwood can certainly sing but her acting was so wooden that it was making me uncomfortable.
4. In some scenes the costume choices were quite odd. Looking at the photo at the top of this entry, you’ll notice that Maria looks like she’s singing to the children before the dash off to join her on her latest TWA flight.
5. The fact of the matter is, you either have the chops to pull off a live performance like this or you don’t. Honestly, while Carrie sounded lovely and I’m sure she put all of her heart into her performance, I don’t know that she was ready for this live play on television experience.
6. Overall I was happy that NBC tried something different and I was hoping that they would do it again sometime.

Now, a couple of folks have sent me emails telling me that I am a horrible man and who did I think I was for writing such horrible things about “The Sound of Music Live!”.

First of all, I think it’s extreme to call me a “hater”. Those that called me this pointed out that Carrie and the rest of the cast should never be compared to a Broadway show because on Broadway they have months to prepare and apparently the cast had a week (after the set was completed). Well, I’m sorry, but that NBC’s fault, not my fault. If you’re banking your Thursday night lineup on remaking a definite classic in American theatre, well, you better have your stuff together and not give yourself just a week to prepare. That just shows a lack of commitment to the production.

Secondly, I’m not the only one that thought Maria turned into a flight attendant in some sort of weird time warp of the show.

Third, I was attacked on several occasions about the play being based on “the original music, not the movie!!!!!” (with multiple exclamation points). Fair enough, if that’s the case, why was “Something Good” included in the musical numbers, when that was a song written for the movie?

And lastly, I think that someday Carrie Underwood may certainly win some sort of theatre award for her acting. I just don’t think that her first foray into this arena is award worthy. Unlike many in contemporary society, I don’t believe that everyone deserves an award for doing their job or what they’ve elected to do. I believe that you have to go above and beyond and show qualities clocking into four digit percentiles to be worthy of an award. “Participation awards” are one of the concepts that is going to be the death of this country. I refuse to applaud mediocrity and I don’t expect someone to applaud me when I am just doing what I’m suppose to do. Call me old-fashioned.

The truth of the matter is, I was excessively snarky in my Twitter stream and this is something that I recognize as a fault of mine. It’s fun to bash on that which we have no control of and people titter occasionally when we say something snarky but this is an item on my personal improvement list: I need to be less snarky. I stand by my criticisms of the show but as has been pointed out to me, I probably should have just enjoyed it for what it was.

So let me state for the record, I enjoyed “The Sound of Music Live!” for it’s spirit. I might not have thoroughly enjoyed the execution of the project, but I certainly enjoyed the heart behind it.

Perhaps I should have just focused on that.