Happy New Year

I love a New Year.

A fresh start, so to speak, and the thought of infinite possibilities, even though there is that darkness of anger and racism and greed all around us. But maybe I am a bit of a Pollyanna, I believe times are changing; people are growing tired of division and hate, of billionaires complaining, tired of religion as politics, tired of faith being used as a weapon against women, immigrants, people of color and LGBTQ+ people.

Think of what might happen if women and people of color, immigrants and LGBTQ+ Americans, along with our allies, all stood up and voted every single time; think of the changes we could make in this country … equality, fairness, acceptance.

And, while the numbers may be adding up faster than I ever thought possible, I like the idea of being another year older, and another year wiser; okay, maybe not that older shiz. As I once told my sister, who thought I never looked any older, The Gays aren't allowed to age, so I don't mind the extra year under the belt … as long as it doesn’t puddle over my belt.

I look back on the past year, remembering the good times, the tough times, the bad and sad times, because they are all a part of life. I still wake up every morning, look out the window to his spot beneath the trees and say Hello to Tuxedo and then whisper Goodnight atm the end of the day; I still miss the Pocket Dog racing through the house like a small black blur; and I miss MaxGoldberg, heavy as a cinderblock, sleeping on me at night.

And yet while looking back, I also look forward to doing more, and learning more, thinking more, reading more, loving more, laughing more. These aren't resolutions, as I don't make resolutions because when I do, they last about as long as it takes me to say ‘resolution.’ These are promises and wishes, hopes and dreams, positive thoughts that 2025 will be a far better year for all of us, around the world, than 2024.

So, I'll leave you all to have a good day, with a repost of some New Year’s Day thoughts:

The more things change :::blibbety blah blay bloo touch me::: the more they remain the same:  I am a believer in happiness. My parents raised their children to believe that happiness is all we really get in life, and that everything else follows. 

Things don't make us happy, at least not for long. And you can't expect people to make you happy either; you either have it to begin with, and others add to it, or you don't. If you don't believe that, just look around at all the sad, angry, lonely faces you pass on the street. Happiness is something you possess, that you give out, and get back. But we are each responsible for our own happiness; responsible to find it, to hold on to it; to nurture it and share it.

Without happiness in ourselves, for being ourselves, how can we expect to live fully and completely? We suffer loss every day; I've had my share and, sad to say, I know there's more to come, but I feel happy in the memories I have of those who've gone on ahead. I still, even as I reread this from years past, mourn the loss of my father; he would have loved the Dodgers winning the World Series and he would have screamed at America once again for believing a liar.

I like to think things will get better, though it might not be the better I was thinking it would be, but I have seen tough times and I have seen them get better, so I will remain hopeful, because of the things I have learned.

I learned, from my Father the Teacher, never to stop learning and reading and speaking and, well, ranting; the more you learn, the more you grow, and understand, the more happiness you can accept. I've also learned that the best thing you can do for the people you love is to be there when they need you.

I learned, from my Mother the Nurturer, to care for things, for people, for animals, for life; to make each day better for those around us, and to make it better for ourselves in the end. I have learned to hold family close; never let them go; whether it's the family you were born into, or the family you created out of necessity; hold on to them, and protect them, and love them. 

I learned, from my Sister the Temper, to speak up; why sit quietly and let things happen to you? Stand up and demand the things you want, the happiness you want. Don't settle. 

I learned, from my Brother … well, let’s just say he taught me that people change dramatically … they ignore science, even after contracting COVID; that people who never voted will support a traitorous rapist racist. He taught me that people change, and not always for the better, but we are all human and perhaps one day he will change again.

I learned from the Blog People that, while we all may have different lives and different backgrounds and different ideas, we can communicate and listen and learn. I thank all of you for your blogs and the things you say that make me laugh and smile, cry and rant, learn, and even sometimes sing and dance.

I learned from the pets we lost in the last year or so ... MaxGoldberg, Tuxedo, and Ozzo ... and the ones we've lost through the years that sheer, unmitigated joy and pure unconditional love are real things to be accepted and given right back. 

I learned, from my Husband the Optimist, how to actually let go and be in love and damn the torpedoes; how to be open and honest and know that it won't hurt; how to love yourself, and everyone around you; how to take what you’re given, the good and the bad, and live with it, and adapt to it. His eyesight continues to worsen with each passing year and yet he soldiers on, telling people that he may be losing his eyesight, but not his vision.

So, I once again realize that I have learned to be happy; I've earned happiness and I am responsible for keeping it. It is, after all, all you really get in life.

Happy. New Year.

xoxo

Bob, Carlos, Consuelo and Rosita.

Thank.Full.

I first posted a version of this back in Ott-Eight, a few days after I started this here blog thing … cripes, I’ve been doing this sixteen years … and have edited it, as need be, and reposted it every year to remind me of where I was then, what I thought then, and what I wanted out of life. And every year as I repost it, I realize that the more things change the more they stay the same.

Now, not to brag, but I've been told that I am an extremely polite person. I was raised on Please and Thank  You, Yes Ma'am, No Sir, and I still act that way today.

True story: I was selected for jury duty when we lived in Miami and when it was my turn to be questioned, I stood up in the very narrow aisle and put my hands behind my back. As I was questioned, I replied Yes sir and No Sir. The judge stopped and smiled.

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

"No, sir" I said. "I was raised by a military man and a Southern woman."

True story: A few years before that, while living in California, I was in a grocery store buying a birthday cake for a coworker. I asked if I may please order a cake. May I please have a name iced onto it? I ‘Pleased’ and ‘Thank you'd’ my way through the entire process and finally as the girl was leaving to finish my order, she turned and said, “I think you are the politest person I've ever waited on."

I smiled and said, "Could you just shut up, please, and ice my damn cake!"

When all else fails I slip into sarcasm. That's my motto, and I’m thankful for that, too, but I digress.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, probably because there are no gifts involved, except for the gift of time and good food and drink; time spent with loved ones and friends; the gift of thanks. A day of thanks; a truly American holiday, like 4th of July, but one we celebrate not with picnics and beer, firecrackers and sparklers, but with a meal shared with friends and family, and pets, always the pets.

I have so much to be thankful for again this year. Yes, the usual family and friends and health and happiness, blah blah blah, everyone says that, but this year, with the exception of another awful day in February … my least favorite month.

One of those bad days is nearly two years past, the day Tuxedo left us, and it still hits me every single day; but I am thankful for the many years with the Greatest Cat Ever, and his little buddy MaxGoldberg, who left us in 2022, and for Ozzo, that wee black dog that used to tear across the back yard with a four-foot tree branch in his mouth begging to play fetch.

And that bad February day this year when my father passed away. I was lucky—is lucky the right word—to be sitting at his side when he passed, just like I had done when my mother died in 2007; I felt them leave, felt that love, and was thankful for having them in my life all those years, and since then.

My father was a tough man who may not have expressed love openly often—though his last words to me were “I love you.”—but he did so when it was important.

The day I came out to him, he said, “You’re my son and I love you.”

The day I move to Miami to start this life with Carlos, he said, “Be happy. I love you.”

The day Carlos and I got married, he said, “I love you both.’

I am thankful for the time and the years and the memories.

I am thankful for this link around the world that I have found with bloggers, where I find people very different from myself, and people very much like myself, and we all co-exist peacefully. I still miss the glorious Anne Marie and her love for F-bombs and disdain for ABBA, something we shared, and I am grateful for the bloggers who still blog and the words and opinions and jokes and Candy Shop photos they share.

As a gay man I know all too well that … cue PSA music … It Gets Better.

Twenty-four years ago, when we began this ride, Carlos and I couldn’t be legally married anywhere in America, and here we are now, married for nine years … in South Carolina of all places. I am thankful for that every day and will fight to the death anyone who thinks our marriage can somehow be erased. Carlos and I are husband and husband and that’s how it will stay. That bell cannot be unrung, no matter who says what. No matter who sits on the Supreme Court.

Trust. And be thankful.

I am thankful for the years I had with my sister—I miss her every single day—because of the things she taught me and continues to teach me. I am grateful to her four daughters, all of whom she raised so well that when Carlos and I told them we were getting married, they all responded, “Now he really is our Uncle.”

I am thankful to my Mom, especially today. Thanksgiving was her holiday; cooking for her family was my mother’s greatest joy and a great gift to all of us. I am thankful that I can keep that tradition alive and can see my Mom in myself as Carlos and I cook dinner for our friends. I am thankful for her kindness, even to those who were unkind to her; I am grateful for her laughter, which I can still hear in my head, and the way she would say, ‘Bye-bye, sweetie, I love you,’ as we ended a phone call.

I am thankful for icy cold mornings and clear blue skies … colored leaves falling. I am thankful for Consuelo and Rosita because, well, I'm bigger than them and I will always beat them ... just channeling a little Joan Crawford and Christina at the pool.

I am thankful for Carlos. Every.Single.Day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am to have him; even the days when he makes me insane … more insane. I realize I’d rather be driven nuts by him for a moment than not to have him in my life at all. I am thankful for the smirk he gives me; I am thankful for the look of horror on his face when I bust out a showtune; I am just plain thankful. I don’t know where I’d be, or who I’d be, if I hadn’t met him all those years ago.

I am thankful for music and pets and soft blankets and breathing and speaking, and having a voice to use, and use often. I realize we are still facing a tough time in this country; we are still facing division; we are still seeing our Black and Brown brothers and sisters killed by police, and self-entitled crybaby vigilantes; we are still seeing our trans brothers and sisters murdered; we still see hate; we are seeing hatred towards refugees fleeing their homeland to come to a country built by immigrants and slaves.

But I remain hopeful, hope filled, and thankful, that this country, most of this country, will once again stand against that hate and divisiveness; I am thankful that we will stand for one another and not against one another; that we will stand up to those who hate; speak out against those who use fear to intimidate others; resist those who are untruthful. I am thankful that more people are standing up for those who may not feel like anyone would ever stand for them.

I am thankful for being woke. Yes, I am thankful for that … and thinking being feeling loving breathing laughing crying living and speaking.

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.

PS We are celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow with chosen family members and friends and then I'm taking the weekend off. 

Have a thankful day and I'll see y'all on Monday.

Happy New Year

I love a New Year.

A new start, so to speak, and the thought of infinite possibilities, even though there is still a darkness of anger and racism and greed all around us. But, maybe I am a bit of a Pollyanna, I believe times are changing; people are growing tired of billionaires whining about witch hunts, tired of religion as politics, tired of faith being used as a weapon against women. Tired of another round of battles inflicted by the right on women, and people of color and immigrants and LGBTQ+ people.

Think of what might happen of women and people of color, immigrants and LGBTQ+ Americans, along with our allies, all stood up and voted every single time; think of the changes we could make in this country … equality, fairness, acceptance.

And, while the numbers may be adding up faster than I ever thought possible, I like the idea of being another year older, and another year wiser; okay, maybe not older. As I once told my sister who thought I never seemed to age, The Gays aren't allowed to age, so I don't mind the extra year under the belt … as long as it doesn’t puddle over my belt.

I look back on the past year, remembering the good times, the hard times, the bad and sad times, because they are all apart of life. I still wake up every morning saying Hello to Tuxedo and whispering Goodnight atm the end of the day; I still miss the Pocket Dog racing through the house like a small black blur; and I miss MaxGoldberg, heavy as a cinderblock, sleeping on me at night.

And yet while looking back, I also look forward to doing more, and learning more, thinking more, reading more, loving more, laughing more. These aren't resolutions, as I don't make resolutions because when I do, they last about as long as it takes me to say ‘resolution.’ These are promises and wishes, hopes and dreams, positive thoughts that 2024 will be a far better year for all of us, around the world, than 2023.

So, I'll leave you all to have a good day, with a repost of some New Year’s Day thoughts:

The more things change :::blibbety blah blay bloo touch me::: the more they remain the same:  I am a believer in happiness. My parents raised their children to believe that happiness is all we really get in life, and that everything else follows. 

Things don't make us happy, at least not for long. And you can't expect people to make you happy either; you either have it to begin with, and others add to it, or you don't. If you don't believe that, just look around at all the sad, angry, lonely faces you pass on the street. Happiness is something you possess, that you give out, and get back. But we are each responsible for our own happiness; responsible to find it, to hold on to it; to nurture it and share it.

Without happiness in ourselves, for being ourselves, how can we expect to live fully and completely. We suffer loss every day; I've had my share and, sad to say, I know there's more to come, but I feel happy in the memories I have of those who've gone on ahead. I still, even as I reread this from years past, mourn the loss of our MaxGoldberg; that one hit me hard because he was pure happiness, and now he’s gone.

And, yes, I know it's hard to be happy when times are hard … 2020 and 2021 anybody? Sure, we have a new, better, smarter, kinder, more compassionate president, and he’s gotten a lot done, but there’s still more on his plate which makes me wonder if things will ever get better. I like to think it will, though it might not be the better I was thinking it would be, but I have seen tough times and I have seen it get better, so I will remain hopeful, because of the things I have learned.

I learned, from my Father the Teacher, never to stop learning and reading and speaking and, well, ranting; the more you learn, the more you grow, and understand, the more happiness you can accept. I've also learned that the best thing you can do for the people you love is to be there, when they need you.

I learned, from my Mother the Nurturer, to care for things, for people, for animals, for life; to make each day better for those around us, and to make it better for ourselves in the end. I have learned to hold family close; never let them go; whether it's the family you were born into, or the family you created out of necessity; hold on to them, and protect them, and love them. 

I learned, from my Sister the Temper, to speak up; why sit quietly and let things happen to you? Stand up and demand the things you want, the happiness you want. Don't settle. 

I learned, from my Brother … well, let’s just say he taught me that people change dramatically … ignore science, even after contracting COVID; that people who never voted will support a traitorous rapist racist. He taught me that people change, and not always for the better, but we are all human and perhaps one day he will change again.

I learned from the Blog People that, while we all may have different lives and different backgrounds and different ideas, we can communicate and listen and learn. I thank all of you for your blogs and the things you say that make me laugh and smile, cry and rant, learn, and even sometimes sing and dance.

I learned from the pets we lost in the last year or so ... MaxGoldberg, Tuxedo, and Ozzo ... and the ones we've lost through the years that sheer, unmitigated joy and pure unconditional love are real things to be accepted and given right back. 

I learned, from my Husband the Optimist, how to actually let go and be in love and damn the torpedoes; how to be open and honest and know that it won't hurt; how to love yourself, and everyone around you; how to take what you’re given, the good and the bad, and live with it, and adapt to it. His eyesight continues to worsen with each passing year and yet he soldiers on, telling people that he may be losing his eyesight, but not his vision.

So, I once again realize that I have learned to be happy; I've earned happiness and I am responsible for keeping it. It is, after all, all you really get in life.

Happy. New Year.

xoxo

Bob, Carlos, Consuelo and Rosita.

Thank.Full.

I first posted a version of this back in Ott-Eight, a few days after I started this here blog thing, and have edited it, as need be, and reposted it every year … for fifteen years … to remind me of where I was then, what I thought then, and what I wanted out of life. And every year as I repost it, I realize that the more things change the more they stay the same.

Now, not to brag, but I've been told that I am an extremely polite person. I was raised on Please and Thank You, Yes Ma'am, No Sir, and I still act that way today.

True story: I was selected for jury duty when we lived in Miami and when it was my turn to be questioned, I stood up in the very narrow aisle and put my hands behind my back. As I was questioned, I replied Yes sir and No Sir. The judge stopped and smiled.

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

"No, sir" I said. "I was raised by a military man and a Southern woman."

True story: A few years before that, while living in California, I was in a grocery store buying a birthday cake for a co-worker. I asked if I may please order a cake. May I please have a name iced onto it? I ‘Pleased’ and ‘Thank you'd’ my way through the entire process and finally as the girl was leaving to finish my order, she turned and said, “I think you are the politest person I've ever waited on."

I smiled and said, "Could you just shut up, please, and ice my damn cake!"

When all else fails I slip into sarcasm. That's my motto, and I’m thankful for that, too, but I digress.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, probably because there are no gifts involved, except for the gift of time; time spent with loved ones and friends; the gift of thanks. A day of thanks; a truly American holiday, like 4th of July, but one we celebrate not with picnics and beer, firecrackers and sparklers, but with a meal shared with friends and family, and pets, always the pets.

I have so much to be thankful for again this year. Yes, the usual family and friends and health and happiness, blah blah blah, everyone says that, but this year, with the exception of one awful day in February, has been good. I am thankful that Carlos and I are fine; we have been pricked and boostered and can say that neither one of us has ever tested positive for COVID.

That one bad day: the day Tuxedo left us, and a day that hits me every single day since. But I am thankful for the many years with the Greatest Cat Ever, and his little buddy MaxGoldberg, who left us in 2022.

I am also grateful for the memories of a wee black dog tearing across the back yard with a four-foot tree branch in his mouth begging to play fetch; Ozzo was one of a kind.

I am thankful to this link around the world that I have found with bloggers, where I find people very different from myself, and people very much like myself, and we all co-exist peacefully. I am grateful to our dear Anne Marie and her love for F-bombs and disdain for ABBA, something we shared. I miss her wit and sarcasm and musical Saturdays, but I am thankful for having have them. I also miss her husband, ArTeeGee, who left us to join her. I am grateful for the bloggers who still blog and the words and opinions and jokes and Candy Shop photos they share.

And I am thankful, as well as hopeful, that even though America is still mired in hate and division, us versus them, and criminality, there are still spots of decency and inclusion and hope. I may be a bit of a Pollyanna but I am hopeful that things will change and we will keep our government from the hands of tyrants, racists, bigots and traitors. Sure, it’s still a bit dark here, but we are all becoming more aware that if we want to change we must make change and I am thankful that we live in a country where we have that freedom.

As a gay man I know all too well that … cue PSA music … It Gets Better.

Twenty-three years ago, when we began this ride, Carlos and I couldn’t be legally married anywhere in America, and here we are now, married for nine years … in South Carolina of all places. I am thankful for that every day and will fight to the death anyone who thinks our marriage can somehow be erased. Carlos and I are husband and husband and that’s how it will stay. That bell cannot be unrung, no matter who says what. No matter who sits on the Supreme Court.

Trust. And be thankful.

I am thankful for the years I had with my sister—I miss her every single day—because of the things she taught me and continues to teach me. I am grateful to her four daughters, all of whom she raised so well that when Carlos and I told them we were getting married, they all responded, “Now he really is our Uncle.”

I am thankful for my Dad. He didn’t ask for a gay son, but he got one; he didn’t know what to do with a gay son, but he did the best he could. And, when the time came to marry Carlos, it made my Dad’s day that he could be there. I wish every gay person could have a Dad like mine, who sees that change is good, and sees that not everyone is alike—even in your own family—but who loves you just the same. I am thankful and grateful that he came through his surgery feeling good and strong and ready to rumble.

I am thankful to my Mom, especially today. Thanksgiving was her holiday; cooking for her family was my mother’s greatest joy and a great gift to all of us. I am thankful that I can keep that tradition alive and can see my Mom in myself as Carlos and I cook dinner for ourselves and friends. I am thankful for her kindness, even to those who were unkind to her; I am grateful for her laughter, which I can still hear in my head, and the way she would say, ‘Bye bye, sweetie, I love you,’ as we ended a phone call.

I am thankful for icy cold mornings and clear blue skies … colored leaves falling. I am thankful for Consuelo and Rosita because, well, I'm bigger than them and I will always beat them ... just channeling a little Joan Crawford and Christina at the pool.

I am thankful for Carlos. Every.Single.Day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am to have him; even the days when he makes me insane … more insane. I realize I’d rather be driven nuts by him for a moment than not to have him in my life at all. I am thankful for the smirk he gives me; I am thankful for the look of horror on his face when I bust out a showtune; I am just plain thankful. I don’t know where I’d be, or who I’d be, if I hadn’t met him all those years ago.

I am thankful for music and pets and soft blankets and breathing and speaking, and having a voice to use, and use often. I realize we are still facing a tough time in this country; we are still facing division; we are still seeing our Black and Brown brothers and sisters killed by police, and self-entitled crybaby vigilantes; we are still seeing our trans brothers and sisters murdered; we still see hate; we are seeing hatred towards refugees fleeing their homeland to come to a country built by immigrants and slaves.

But I remain hopeful, hope filled, and thankful, that this country, most of this country, will once again stand against that hate and divisiveness; I am thankful that we will stand for one another and not against one another; that we will stand up to those who hate; speak out against those who use fear to intimidate others; resist those who are untruthful. I am thankful that more and more people are standing up for those who may not feel like anyone would ever stand for them.

I am thankful for being woke. Yes, I am thankful for that … and thinking being feeling loving breathing laughing crying living and speaking.

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.

PS We are celebrating Thanksgiving tomorrow with chosen family members and friends and then I'm taking the weekend off. 

Have a a thankful day and I'll see y'all on Monday.

Happy New Year

I love a New Year.

A new start, so to speak, and the thought of infinite possibilities. The knowledge that we are coming out of those dark years after so long. I like the idea of being another year wiser, another year older … okay, that last one not so much. But, as I once told my sister who thought I never looked any older, The Gays aren't allowed to age, I don't mind the extra year under the belt … as long as it doesn’t puddle over my belt.

And I do look forward to doing more, and learning more, thinking more, reading more, loving more, laughing more. These aren't resolutions, as I don't make resolutions because when I do, they last about as long as it takes me to say ‘resolution.’ These are promises and wishes, hopes and dreams, positive thoughts that 2023 will be a far better year for all of us, around the world, than 2022.

So, I'll leave you all to have a good day, with a repost of some New Year’s Day thoughts:

The more things change :::blibbety blah blay bloo touch me::: the more they remain the same:  I am a believer in happiness. My parents raised their children to believe that happiness is all we really get in life, and that everything else follows. 

Things don't make us happy, at least not for long. And you can't expect people to make you happy either; you either have it to begin with, and others add to it, or you don't. If you don't believe that, just look around at all the sad, angry, lonely faces you pass on the street. Happiness is something you possess, that you give out, and get back. But we are each responsible for our own happiness; responsible to find it, to hold on to it; to nurture it and share it.

Without happiness in ourselves, for being ourselves, how can we expect to live fully and completely. We suffer loss every day; I've had my share and, sad to say, I know there's more to come, but I feel happy in the memories I have of those who've gone on ahead. I still, even as I reread this from years past, mourn the loss of our MaxGoldberg; that one hit me hard because he was pure happiness, and now he’s gone.

And, yes, I know it's hard to be happy when times are hard … 2020 and 2021 anybody? Sure, we have a new, better, smarter, kinder, more compassionate president, and he’s gotten a lot done, but there’s still more on his plate which makes me wonder if things will ever get better. I like to think it will, though it might not be the better I was thinking it would be, but I have seen tough times and I have seen it get better, so I will remain hopeful, because of the things I have learned.

I learned, from my Father the Teacher, never to stop learning and reading and speaking and, well, ranting; the more you learn, the more you grow, and understand, the more happiness you can accept. I've also learned that the best thing you can do for the people you love is to be there, when they need you.

I learned, from my Mother the Nurturer, to care for things, for people, for animals, for life; to make each day better for those around us, and to make it better for ourselves in the end. I have learned to hold family close; never let them go; whether it's the family you were born into, or the family you created out of necessity; hold on to them, and protect them, and love them. 

I learned, from my Sister the Temper, to speak up; why sit quietly and let things happen to you? Stand up and demand the things you want, the happiness you want. Don't settle. 

I learned, from my Brother the Father … well, let’s just say he taught me that people change dramatically … ignore science, even after contracting COVID; that people who never voted will support a traitorous rapist racist. He taught me that people change, and not always for the better.

I learned from the internet that, while we all may have different lives and different backgrounds and different ideas, we can communicate and listen and learn. I thank all of you for your blogs and the things you say that make me laugh and smile, cray and rant, and even sometimes sing and dance.

I learned, from my Husband the Optimist, how to actually let go and be in love and damn the torpedoes; how to be open and honest and know that it won't hurt; how to love yourself, and everyone around you; how to take what you’re given, the good and the bad, and live with it, and adapt to it. His eyesight continues to worsen with each passing year and yet he soldiers on, telling people that he may be losing his eyesight, but not his vision.

So, I once again realize that I have learned to be happy; I've earned happiness and I am responsible for keeping it. It is, after all, all you really get in life.

Happy. New Year.

xoxo

Bob, Carlos, Tuxedo, Ozzo, and Consuelo.

Thank.Full.

I first posted a version of this back in Ott-Eight, a few days after I started this here blog thing, and have edited it, as need be, and reposted it every year … for fourteen years … to remind me of where I was then, what I thought then, and what I wanted out of life. And every year as I repost it, I realize that the more things change the more they stay the same.

Now, not to brag, but I've been told that I am an extremely polite person. I was raised on Please and Thank You, Yes Ma'am, No Sir, and I still act that way today.

True story: I was selected for jury duty when we lived in Miami and when it was my turn to be questioned, I stood up in the very narrow aisle and put my hands behind my back. As I was questioned, I replied Yes sir and No Sir. The judge stopped and smiled.

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

"No, sir" I said. "I was raised by a military man and a Southern woman."

True story: A few years before that, while living in California, I was in a grocery store buying a birthday cake for a co-worker. I asked if I may please order a cake. May I please have a name iced onto it? I pleased and thank you'd my way through the entire process and finally as the girl was leaving to finish my order, she turned and said, “I think you are the politest person I've ever waited on."

I smiled and said, "Could you just shut up, please, and ice my damn cake!"

When all else fails I slip into sarcasm. That's my motto, and I’m thankful for that, too, but I digress.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, probably because there are no gifts involved, except for the gift of time; time spent with loved ones and friends; the gift of thanks. A day of thanks; a truly American holiday, like 4th of July, but one we celebrate not with picnics and beer, firecrackers and sparklers, but with a meal shared with friends and family, and pets, always the pets.

I have so much to be thankful for again this year. Yes, the usual family and friends and health and happiness, blah blah blah, everyone says that, but this year, following the pandemic, good health is a wonderful thing. I am thankful that Carlos and I are fine; we have been pricked and boostered; our families are healthy, well, except for my Thing 45 loving brother who called COVID a hoax, even after he and his whole family tested positive for it, but, again, I digress.

I am thankful to this link around the world I have found with bloggers, where I find people very different from myself, and people very much like myself, and we all co-exist peacefully. I am grateful to our dear Anne Marie and her love for F-bombs and disdain for ABBA, something we shared. I miss her wit and sarcasm and musical Saturdays, but I am thankful for having have them. I also miss her husband, ArTeeGee, who left to join her. I am grateful for the bloggers who still blog and the words and opinions and jokes and Candy Shop photos they share.

And I am thankful, as well as hopeful, that even though America is still mired in hate and division, us versus them, and criminality, there are still spots of decency and inclusion and hope, and that spot of light that appeared earlier this month. Sure, it’s still a bit dark here, but we are all becoming more aware that if we want to change we must make change. I am thankful that we live in a country where we have that freedom.

As a gay man I know all too well that … cue PSA music … It Gets Better.

Twenty-two years ago, when we began this ride, Carlos and I couldn’t be legally married anywhere in America, and here we are now, married for eight years … in South Carolina of all places. I am thankful for that every day and will fight to the death anyone who thinks our marriage can somehow be erased. Carlos and I are husband and husband and that’s how it will stay. That bell cannot be unrung, no matter who says what. No matter who sits on the Supreme Court.

Trust. And be thankful.

I am thankful for the years I had with my sister—I miss her every single day—because of the things she taught me and continues to teach me. I am grateful to her four daughters, all of whom she raised so well that when Carlos and I told them we were getting married, they all responded, “Now he really is our Uncle.”

I am thankful for my Dad. He didn’t ask for a gay son, but he got one; he didn’t know what to do with a gay son, but he did the best he could. And, when the time came to marry Carlos, it made my Dad’s day that he could be there. I wish every gay person could have a Dad like mine, who sees that change is good, and sees that not everyone is alike—even in your own family—but who loves you just the same. I am thankful and grateful that he came through his surgery feeling good and strong and ready to rumble.

I am thankful to my Mom, especially today. Thanksgiving was her holiday; cooking for her family was my mother’s greatest joy and a great gift to all of us. I am thankful that I can keep that tradition alive and can see my Mom in myself as Carlos and I cook dinner for ourselves and friends. I am thankful for her kindness, even to those who were unkind to her; I am grateful for her laughter, which I can still hear in my head, and the way she would say, ‘Bye bye, sweetie, I love you,’ as we ended a phone call.

I am thankful for icy cold mornings and clear blue skies … colored leaves falling. I am thankful for small dogs and cats because, well, I'm bigger than them and I will always beat them ... just channeling a little Joan Crawford and Christina at the pool.

I am thankful for Carlos. Every.Single.Day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am to have him; even the days when he makes me insane … more insane. I realize I’d rather be driven nuts by him for a moment than not to have him in my life at all. I am thankful for the smirk he gives me; I am thankful for the look of horror on his face when I bust out a showtune; I am just plain thankful. I don’t know where I’d be, or who I’d be, if I hadn’t met him all those years ago.

I am thankful for music and pets and soft blankets and breathing and speaking, and having a voice to use, and use often. I realize we are still facing a tough time in this country; we are still facing division; we are still seeing our Black and Brown brothers and sisters killed by police, and self-entitled crybaby vigilantes; we are still seeing our trans brothers and sisters murdered; we still see hate; we are seeing hatred towards refugees fleeing their homeland to come to a country built by immigrants and slaves.

But I remain hopeful, hope filled, and thankful, that this country, most of this country, will once again stand against that hate and divisiveness; I am thankful that we will stand for one another and not against one another; that we will stand up to those who hate; speak out against those who use fear to intimidate others; resist those who are untruthful. I am thankful that more and more people are standing up for those who may not feel like anyone would ever stand for them.

I am thankful for that … and thinking being feeling loving breathing laughing crying living and speaking.

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.

Happy New Year

I love a New Year.

The freshness of what may be; the thought of infinite possibility; the hope that we are coming out of the dark, even though, to be fair, we came out of it once and then went back in, and then came out a little again, only to go back.

I like the idea of being another year wiser, another year older … okay, that last one not so much. But, as I once told sister who thought I never looked any older, The Gays aren't allowed to age, I don't mind the extra year under the belt … as long as it doesn’t puddle over.

And I do look forward to doing more, and learning more, thinking more, reading more, loving more, laughing more. These aren't resolutions, as I don't make resolutions because when I do, they last about as long as it takes me to say ‘resolution.’ These are promises and wishes, hopes and dreams, positive thoughts that 2022 will be a far better year for all of us, around the world, than 2021.

So, I'll leave you all to have a good day, with a repost of some New Year’s Day thoughts:

The more things change :::blibbety blah blay bloo touch me::: the more they remain the same:  I am a believer in happiness. I believe that happiness is all we really get in life, and that everything else follows. 

Things don't make us happy, at least not for long. And you can't expect people to make you happy either; you either have it to begin with, and others add to it, or you don't. If you don't believe that, just look around at all the sad, angry, lonely faces you pass on the street. Happiness is something you possess, that you give out, and get back. But we are each responsible for our own happiness; responsible to find it, to hold on to it; to nurture it and share it.

Without happiness in ourselves, for being ourselves, how can we expect to live fully and completely. We suffer loss every day; I've had my share and, sad to say, I know there's more to come, but I feel happy in the memories I have of those who've gone on ahead.

And, yes, I know it's hard to be happy when times are hard … 2021 anyone? Sure, we had a new, better, smarter, kinder, more compassionate president, but he has a lot on his plate so it makes one wonder if things will ever get better. I like to think it will, though it might not be the better I was thinking it would be, but I have seen tough times and I have seen it get better, so I will remain hopeful, because of the things I have learned.

I learned, from my Father the Teacher, never to stop learning and reading and speaking and, well, ranting; the more you learn, the more you grow, and understand, the more happiness you can accept. 

I learned, from my Mother the Nurturer, to care for things, for people, for animals, for life; to make each day better for those around us, and to make it better for ourselves in the end. I have learned to hold family close; never let them go; whether it's the family you were born into, or the family you created out of necessity; hold on to them, and protect them, and love them. 

I learned, from my Sister the Temper, to speak up; why sit quietly and let things happen to you? Stand up and demand the things you want, the happiness you want. Don't settle. 

I learned, from my Brother the Father … well, let’s just say he taught me that people change dramatically … ignore science, even after contracting COVID; that people who never voted will support a traitorous rapist racist. He taught me that people change, and not always for the better.

I learned, from my Husband the Optimist, how to actually let go and be in love and damn the torpedoes; how to be open and honest and know that it won't hurt; how to love yourself, and everyone around you; how to take what you’re given, the good and the bad, and live with it, and adapt to it. 

So, I once again realize that I have learned to be happy; I've earned happiness. And I am responsible for it. It is, after all, all you really get in life.

Happy. New Year.

xoxo

Bob, Carlos, Tuxedo, MaxGoldberg, Ozzo, Consuelo and, perhaps, a little Comet.

Thank.Full.

I first posted a version of this back in Ott-Eight, a few days after I started this here blog thing, and have edited it, as need be, and reposted it every year, to remind me of where I was then, what I thought then, and what I wanted out of life. And every year as I repost it, I realize that the more things change the more they stay the same.

Now, not to brag, but I've been told that I am an extremely polite person. I was raised on Please and Thank You, Yes Ma'am, No Sir, and I still act that way today.

True story: I was selected for jury duty when we lived in Miami and when it was my turn to be questioned, I stood up in the very narrow aisle and put my hands behind my back. As I was questioned, I replied Yes sir and No Sir. The judge stopped and smiled.

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

"No, sir" I said. "I was raised by a military man and a Southern woman."

True story: A few years before that, while living in California, I was in a grocery store buying a birthday cake for a co-worker. I asked if I may please order a cake. May I please have a name iced onto it? I pleased and thank you'd my way through the entire process and finally as the girl was leaving to finish my order, she turned and said, “I think you are the politest person I've ever waited on."

I smiled and said, "Could you just shut up, please, and ice my damn cake!"

When all else fails slip into sarcasm. That's my motto, and I’m thankful for that, too, but I digress.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, probably because there are no gifts involved, except for the gift of time; time spent with loved ones and friends; the gift of thanks. A day of thanks; a truly American holiday, like 4th of July, but one we celebrate not with picnics and beer, firecrackers and sparklers, but with a meal shared with friends and family, and pets, always the pets.

I have so much to be thankful for again this year. Yes, the usual family and friends and health and happiness, blah blah blah, everyone says that, but this year, another year in the Age Of COVID, good health is a great thing. I am thankful that Carlos and I are fine; we have been pricked and are about to get boostered; our families are healthy, well, except for my Thing 45 loving brother who called COVID a hoax, even after he and his whole family tested positive for it.

I am thankful to this link around the world I have found with bloggers, where I find people very different from myself, and people very much like myself, and we all co-exist peacefully. I am grateful to our Anne Marie and her love for F-bombs and disdain for ABBA, something we shared. I miss her wit and sarcasm and musical Saturdays, but I am thankful for having have them.

I am thankful for having known my Tia Gloria; she’s just left us, but still holds court in our hearts and I am thankful for that.

And I am thankful, as well as hopeful, that even though America is still mired in hate and division, us versus them, and criminality, there are still spots of decency and inclusion and hope. Sure, it’s still a bit dark here, but we are all becoming more aware that if we want change we must make change. I am thankful that we live in a country where we have that freedom.

As a gay man I know all too well that … cue PSA music … It Gets Better.

Twenty-one years ago, when we began this ride, Carlos and I couldn’t be legally married anywhere in America, and here we are now, married for seven years … in South Carolina of all places. I am thankful for that every day.

Sure, we’re still hearing the Hate Speech and hate-filled actions of some people, but one thing they can never do is take away my marriage; Carlos and I are husband and husband and that’s how it will stay. That bell cannot be unrung, no matter who says what. No matter who sits on the Supreme Court.

Trust. And be thankful.

I am thankful for the years I had with my sister—I miss her every single day—because of the things she taught me and continues to teach me. I am grateful to her four daughters, all of whom she raised so well that when Carlos and I told them we were getting married, they all responded, “Now he really is our Uncle.”

I am thankful for my Dad. He didn’t ask for a gay son, but he got one; he didn’t know what to do with a gay son, but he did the best he could. And, when the time came to marry Carlos, it made my Dad’s day that he could be there. I wish every gay person could have a Dad like mine, who sees that change is good, and sees that not everyone is alike—even in your own family—but who loves you just the same.

I am thankful to my Mom, especially today. Thanksgiving was her holiday; cooking for her family was my mother’s greatest joy and a great gift to all of us. I am thankful that I can keep that tradition alive and can see my Mom in myself as Carlos and I cook dinner for ourselves, and, in other years, friends. I am thankful for her kindness, even to those who were unkind to her; I am grateful for her laughter, which I can still hear in my head, and the way she would say, ‘Bye bye, sweetie, I love you,’ as we ended a phone call.

I am thankful for icy cold mornings and clear blue skies … colored leaves falling. I am thankful for small dogs and cats because, well, I'm bigger than them and I will always beat them ... just channeling a little Joan Crawford and Christina at the pool.

I am thankful for Carlos. Every.Single.Day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am to have him; even the days when he makes me insane … more insane. I realize I’d rather be driven nuts by him for a moment than not to have him in my life at all. I am thankful for the smirk he gives me; I am thankful for the look of horror on his face when I bust out a showtune; I am just plain thankful. I don’t know where I’d be, or who I’d be, if I hadn’t met him all those years ago.

I am thankful for music and pets and soft blankets and breathing and speaking, and having a voice to use, and use often. I realize we are still facing a tough time in this country; we are still facing division; we are still seeing our Black and Brown brothers and sisters killed by police, and self-entitled crybaby vigilantes; we are still seeing our trans brothers and sisters murdered; we still see hate; we are seeing hatred towards refugees fleeing their homeland to come to a country built by immigrants and slaves.

But I remain hopeful, hope filled, and thankful, that this country, most of this country, will once again stand against that hate and divisiveness; I am thankful that we will stand for one another and not against one another; that we will stand up to those who hate; speak out against those who use fear to intimidate others; resist those who are untruthful. I am thankful that more and more people are standing up for those who may not feel like anyone would ever stand for them.

I am thankful for that … and thinking being feeling loving breathing laughing crying living and speaking.

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.

Happy. New Year.

I love the New Year. The freshness of what may be; the thought of infinite possibility; the hope that we are coming out of the dark; idea that I am another year older. Okay, that last one I don't like so much, but since, as I once told sister who thought I never looked any older, The Gays aren't allowed to age, I don't mind the extra year under the belt … as long as it doesn’t puddle over.

But I do look forward to doing more, and learning more, thinking more, reading more, loving more, laughing more. These aren't resolutions, as I don't make resolutions because when I do, my resolutions last about as long as it takes me to say ‘resolution’. These are promises and wishes, hopes and dreams, positive thoughts that 2021 will be a far better year for all of us, around the world, than 2020..

So, I'll leave you all to have a good day, with a repost of some New Years Day thoughts:

The more things change :::blibbety blah blay bloo touch me::: the more they remain the same:  I am a believer in happiness. I believe that happiness is all we really get in life, and that everything else follows. 

Things don't make us happy, at least not for long. And you can't expect people to make you happy either; you either have it to begin with, and others add to it, or you don't. If you don't believe that, just look around at all the sad, angry, lonely faces you pass on the street. Happiness is something you possess, that you give out, and get back. We're responsible for our own happiness, each and all of us; responsible to find it, to hold on to it; to nurture it and share it.

Without happiness in ourselves, for being ourselves, how can we expect to live fully and completely. We suffer loss every day; I've had my share and, sad to say, I know there's more to come, but I feel happy in the memories I have of those who've gone on ahead.

And, yes, I know it's hard to be happy when times are hard … 2020 anyone? A president like no other, anyone? Sometimes, especially these days, it can be nearly impossible to think that things will get better, but they will; it might not be the better you were thinking it would be, but I have learned that it will get better. 

I have learned, from my Father the Teacher, never to stop learning and reading and speaking and, well, ranting; the more you learn, the more you grow, and understand, the more happiness you can accept. 

I have learned, from my Mother the Nurturer, to care for things, for people, for animals for life; to make each day better for those around us, and to make it better for ourselves in the end. 

I have learned, from my Sister the Temper, to speak up; why sit quietly and let things happen to you? Stand up and demand the things you want, the happiness you want. Don't settle. 

I have learned, from my Brother the Father, to hold close to family; never let them go; whether it's the family you were born into, or the family you created out of necessity; hold on to them, and protect them, and love them. 

I have learned, from my Husband the Optimist, how to actually let go and be in love and damn the torpedoes; how to be open and honest and know that it won't hurt; how to love yourself, and everyone around you. 

So, I once again realize that I have learned to be happy; I've earned happiness. And I am responsible for it. It is, after all, all you really get in life.

Happy. New Year.

Thank.Full.

I first posted a version of this back in Ott-Eight, a few days after I started this here blog thing, and have edited it, as need be, and reposted it every year, to remind me of where I was then, what I thought then, and what I wanted out of life. And every year as I repost it, I realize that the more things change the more they stay the same.

Now, not to brag, but I've been told that I am an extremely polite person. I was raised on Please and Thank You, Yes Ma'am, No Sir, and I still act that way today.

True story: I was selected for jury duty when we lived in Miami and when it was my turn to be questioned, I stood up in the very narrow aisle and put my hands behind my back. As I was questioned, I replied Yes sir and No Sir. The judge stopped and smiled.

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

"No, sir" I said. "I was raised by a military man and a Southern woman."

True story: A few years before that, while living in California, I was in a grocery store buying a birthday cake for a co-worker. I asked if I may please order a cake. May I please have a name iced onto it? I pleased and thank you'd my way through the entire process and finally as the girl was leaving to finish my order, she turned and said, “I think you are the politest person I've ever waited on."

I smiled and said, "Could you just shut up, please, and ice my damn cake!"

When all else fails slip into sarcasm. That's my motto, and I’m thankful for that, too, but I digress.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday, probably because there are no gifts involved, except for the gift of time; time spent with loved ones and friends; the gift of thanks. A day of thanks; a truly American holiday, like 4th of July, but one we celebrate not with picnics and beer, firecrackers and sparklers, but with a meal shared with friends and family, and pets, always the pets.

I have so much to be thankful for again this year. Yes, the usual family and friends and health and happiness, blah blah blah, everyone says that, but this year, in the Age Of COVID, good health is a great thing. I am thankful that Carlos and I are fine; our families are healthy; our friends, and all of you fellow bloggers, are healthy. That’s worth a healthy dose of Thanks.

And I am thankful, as well as hopeful, that America is turning again, away from hate and division and criminality, toward decency and inclusion and hope. We are coming out of a dark time, though we’re not there yet, but I think we all learned earlier this month that exercising our right to vote means to do that every single time and be thankful that we live in a country where we have that freedom. And it feels like the pendulum is finally swinging back towards understanding and acceptance, and the hope that we had for a few years. I am thankful for that.

As a gay man I know all too well that … cue PSA music … It Gets Better.

Twenty years ago, when we began this ride, Carlos and I couldn’t be legally married anywhere in America, and here we are now, married for five years … in South Carolina … and every state in this country.  I am still thankful for that. 

And let me be clear … even with the Hate Speech, and hateful actions, that we have been hearing, and seeing, for the last four years, they will never be able to take that away from us; we are husband and husband and that’s how it will stay. That bell cannot be unrung, no matter who says what. No matter who sits on the Supreme Court.

Trust. And be thankful.

I am thankful for the years I had with my sister—I miss her every single day—because of the things she taught me and continues to teach me. I am grateful to her four daughters, all of whom she raised so well that when Carlos and I told them we were getting married, they all responded, “Now he really is our Uncle.”

I am thankful for my Dad. He didn’t ask for a gay son, but he got one; he didn’t know what to do with a gay son, but he did the best he could. And, when the time came to marry Carlos, it made my Dad’s day that he could be there. I wish every gay person could have a Dad like mine, who sees that change is good, and sees that not everyone is alike—even in your own family—but who loves you just the same. I still get goosebumps when I hear my Dad tell people about his son and his husband. Who knew that would happen?

I am thankful to my Mom, especially today. Thanksgiving was her holiday; cooking for her family was my mother’s greatest joy and a great gift to all of us. I am thankful that I can keep that tradition alive and can see my Mom in myself as Carlos and I cook dinner for ourselves, and, in other years,  friends. I am thankful for her kindness, even to those who were unkind to her; I am grateful for her laughter, which I can still hear in my head, and the way she would say, ‘Bye bye, sweetie, I love you,’ as we ended a phone call.

I am thankful for icy cold mornings and clear blue skies … colored leaves falling. I am thankful for small dogs and cats because, well, I'm bigger than them and I will always beat them ... just channeling a little Joan Crawford and Christina at the pool.

I am thankful for Carlos. Every.Single.Day. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am to have him; even the days when he makes me insane … more insane. I realize I’d rather be driven nuts by him for a moment than not to have him in my life at all. I am thankful for the smirk he gives me; I am thankful for the look of horror on his face when I bust out a showtune; I am just plain thankful. I don’t know where I’d be, or who I’d be, if I hadn’t met him all those years ago.

I am thankful for music and pets and soft blankets and breathing and speaking, and having a voice to use, and use often. I realize we are still facing a tough time in this country; we are still facing division; we are still seeing our Black and Brown brothers and sisters killed by police; we are still seeing our trans brothers and sisters murdered; we still see hate; we are seeing hatred towards refugees fleeing their homeland to come to a country built by, immigrants and slaves.

But I remain hopeful, hope filled, and thankful, that this country, most of this country, will once again stand against that hate and divisiveness; I am thankful that we will stand for one another and not against one another; that we will stand up to those who hate; speak out against those who use fear to intimidate others; resist those who are untruthful. I am thankful that more and more people are standing up for those who may not feel like anyone would ever stand for them.

I am thankful for that … and thinking being feeling loving breathing laughing crying living and speaking.

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.