Monday, December 7, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Friday, November 14, 2008
Thrilling mornings
Started the day at the top of Mt. Tabor Park. It was a wet and grey morning, but I couldn't get over how good it felt to be up and so high above Portland. Toby (the mutt) and I shot up the hill in the hopes of stumbling across the other dog-owners and their 4-legged masters. Sadly, I think we were too early. Only two rain-filled water bowls waiting for us at the top of about 60 near-vertical stairs.
We rounded the reservoir and up the hill behind it to a bench-lined ledge at the top. Portland is beautiful. Early mornings just after sunrise are beautiful, no matter how rainy.
Legs burned a bit coming back down the hill and stairs -- a reminder to get my ass to the gym. Dog collapsed in the middle of his hamburger-shaped bed while I got ready for work. Anxious to get home and lunch and see if the view from the mountain is as good in the afternoon hours.
Chivalry
First, chivalry isn't dead. Second, the finer art of being a gentleman isn't dead either. We Gay men love to bitch. We complain often to our straight friends about how hard Gay love or life is -- even go so far as to use our bitching as the shaky common ground necessary when first meeting someone. I know now more than ever that there is really little difference between straight and gay love. At the core of each one of us is the desire to be respected, and the opportunity and ability to be respectful of others. Critics can get laughs and cheers, but rarely find love. Gay men - I love us. The more honest I am about my goals, standards, hopes and dreams, the more you share with me that you feel the same. You're beautiful. Your recognition of this fact will do more for the attraction of others than any pair of jeans, car, house, or job.
Favorites
More and more often I find myself coming across certain experiences, smells, tastes, feelings and other experiences that bring me comfort, or that could be considered "my favorites." Each time I come across such an experience, I think to myself, "I should really keep a list of these things so I can refer back to them." So, this is the list. It'll grow as I think of new things.
1) The sound of the sigh my dog makes just before he falls asleep.
2) The smell of previously dry pavement having just been rained on.
3) The smell of new leather.
4) The feeling I get when I've cleaned-out my email inbox.
5) Two cosmos. Two people and a couch.
6) The sense of adventure I get when I start a new book.
7) The sense of accomplishment I get when I finish a book.
8) The excitement I feel when I meet a new friend.
9) Knowing a person well enough to know their flaws, and love them deeper because of them.
10) The feeling I get when I am finally unpacked in a hotel room & have arranged the furniture.
11) The excitement my puppy shows me when I return home.
12) Any child's laugh.
13) Anyone who sings to their dog.
14) The smell of tomato vines.
15) Green olives, especially in martinis.
16) Innocence in any person, young or old.
17) Life experience in any person.
18) A child's perspective.
19) Gum-ball machines
20) Kissing someone who knows how to kiss back.
21) The feeling I get when surrounded by friends and I realize that the moment we're in will soon become a favorite memory.
22) They way most of my friends make fun of dance music, but are the first to dart to the dance floor when we're out.
23) Trips to Home Depot and resulting projects which go as expected. The ones which don't do not make this list.
24) The smell of wood-burning fireplaces, only after dark and while walking down damp, leaf-lined sidewalks.
25) The smell of grilled cheese for dinner.
26) Making pot roast -- buying the ingredients, preparing them, eating them -- you name it.
27) Anytime a child uses the term "pet'ed" as in "Does your dog like being pet'ed?"
28) When cookies come out of the box stuck together -- that only counts as one!
I did Dog Mountain
Wow. 3.8 miles up, then 3.1 miles down. I've been on plenty hikes before, but none where the first steps out of the car are up, and continue up for the next 3.8 miles. I was up at 6 a.m., picked-up at 7 a.m., at the trailhead at 8:30 a.m. and back to the car by 12:30 p.m. What an incredible hike! Ironically, my dog stayed home and guarded the side-yard. He's not so good with long hikes where he can get cold and wet, or near shear cliffs.
I was with a great group of seasoned hikers. They all had hats, gloves, camel bags and BIG sandwiches. I had Adidas shoes, cute cargo shorts, a t-shirt, brown leather belt and fashionable backpack -- South Beach Diet snack bar and a small bottle of water. lol
We stopped twice during the climb. I took some pictures & posted them below. Between the lower body workout last night, and the hike today, I am fairly certain I won't be able to move tomorrow. It's worth it -- the climb, the burn, the hard breathing, sweating, burning hot, freezing cold and then the quick descent.
It's not a hike I could have done a year ago, at least not easy. 23 lbs. lighter, 6 lbs. of muscle heavier, 4.5% less body fat and far more endurance, engery and stamina.
Here's a link to the trail map:http://www.imacnw.org/maps/dogmountain05_b.jpg
Lose yourself, find yourself
Life's been a little nuts since the holidays. Work has demanded a lot of me, so has home. The stress of the holidays seemed to spill over into the New Year, now almost five months old. With this last week came the pinnacle of my stress, and by week's end, I was emotionally exhausted.
Then it came, the March of Dimes Walkamerica Event. I woke up this morning, excited that four months of fund raising was about to pay-off. $790 raised for the research and prevention of premature births. I put on my Kaiser Permanente Pre-Term Birth Unit team shirt ("I am pro antioxidant") and was out the door. I stood in line to register, and watched the young families all around me. Strollers, backpacks, toddlers, teenagers, grandmas, grandpas, and babies lost to premature birth pictured on the t-shirts of the loved ones they left behind. It's a very moving event; I highly suggest you attend next year.
After meeting my teammates, we took a group picture. Then, I was pulled aside. At first I was worried as the only non Kaiser employee and shy (stop laughing), but was told that I'd raised the most money and the Kaiser staff wanted my picture. That felt good, real good.
My very good friend Tracey asked if she could walk with me. Two years ago, Tracey gave birth to premature twins, Tyler (girl) and Garrett (boy). I turned right, and there she stood -- tall, blond, tan and cuter than ever. The twins were tethered into their jogging stroller and seemed quite pleased to be entering the Rose Quarter at the same time as the marching band.
We walked the entire 10k, or roughly 7 miles. Tracey and I got caught up while Tyler and Garrett dined on fruit snacks and bee cookies. I missed Tracey -- she's a wise woman who knows me quite well. In just 7 miles, we had most of my life sorted-out and some of her life too. ; )
After the event, we jumped across the river to lunch at Manzana. I was sad when we had to say goodbye, but know I'll see them again soon.
What was lost was now found, and a small part of my heart put back in place.Death be to you Mr. Squirrel
When I was young, my Mom would read a book to me called Miss Suzy...
Miss Suzy lives in a comfortable Oak tree. She has her home perfectly arranged, just the way she likes, until a band of nasty red squirrels invades her precious home. These guys are terrible -- like the Taliban of the squirrel world. Miss Suzy is forced from her tree to a beautiful doll house where she meets some nice, strong soldiers. I do still love a man in uniform; and yes, a white pharmacy coat counts.
Here I sit in my house, wonderfully arranged so as to provide the most comfort for me, Dan and Toby. And who comes along with their early morning, partying ways? The SAME rebellious, nasty red squirrels. It's not uncommon to hear them drag-racing the full length of the house, their pointy-nailed claws scrapping the rooftop as they lean into the corners, attempting to overtake the other red-racing squirrel. This would be cute if they wore small helmets and drove matching red and yellow mini race cars, but they don't. They chirp, click and swat their tales at each other, leaping from my Birch tree to the roof, back to the Birch tree, back to the roof, ZOOM one lap around the roof, back to the Birch tree, stop to shit, continue racing until someone falls onto the lawn, repeat.
As if this wasn't enough, they've sought the warmth of the house during the winter months. No, not actually inside -- between the current siding and the original exterior walls of the house. This space wasn't designed for squirrels, and as such, the siding bows WIDE as their fat, furry asses crawl sideways like some scene from the Squirrel Matrix.
I couldn't take it anymore. I went to the local hardware store and stepped into the rodent torture aisle. Wow, I had no idea there were this many ways to kill rodents. Did you know you have to fit the device to the body weight of the offender? Don't you think if I could get close enough to weigh him, I'd snuff the last little squirrel breath from his fat little body? I am not fitting him for a tux – I AM BUYING A TRAP. I found one, on sale for $1.99, made in America no less. I felt so Republican leaving there, I just about called into a conservative talk radio show to tell them of my planned offensive attack.
I got home, unwrapped my instrument of death and attempted to set it up.
Step one -- determine that, were we hunting hairless human fingers the size of asparagus, this trap would be adequate. Step one -- accomplished. The first two "kills" of the night were my index finger and my toe. (Yes, once my finger was caught, I placed the trap on the floor and used my foot/shoe -- much less painful than the naked finger.)
Step two -- consider your bait. I opted for Adam's 100% All Natural, Creamy Peanut Butter. Hey -- I am trying to kill them, not poison them. It was refrigerated, so it was easy to work with, at first. I topped the teaspoon of peanut butter with a whole pecan. Again, it's his last meal, I want it to be nice.
Step three -- arm the trap. I am not joking here; it took me an hour of research on the web to figure out how to arm my trap. The now sticky and running peanut butter does not help this process. I considered cleaning the trap before continuing, but figured the smell of Formula 409 would let them know a crazy man was nearby.
Step four -- select a site. This was easy. I decided to crawl out the window on the second story and onto the cover of the front porch. Much like a Navy Seal, I waited for night fall so as not to be detected. Note for future reference: killing missions at night are tougher because you cannot see what you are doing.
Step five -- disarm your trap. Attempting to carry your baited trap upstairs while "set" will only propel a whole pecan into your TV room covered in creamy peanut butter. I still haven't found it. Toby the no-nut wonder mutt hasn't found it either, but this hasn't kept him from running in tight circles near the top of the stairs. You see, when Dad is carrying a device which catapults peanut butter covered treats into oblivion, it is time for CELEBRATION.
Step six -- once you have some confidence in the poorly constructed "safety switch", practice setting down your trap without setting it off. If you wince like a small female child, worry not -- it's dark and the neighbors aren't likely to notice you. Unless, that is, you are dumb enough to give a friendly "hello" as a matter of habit. There was no taking this "hello" back, as the nice elderly couple were already protecting their eyes from the motion light, and scanning the front porch attempting to locate me. I raised my voice, waived my hands and shouted "I'm up here, on the roof...hi, how are you guys tonight?" The elderly woman answered as if I was standing on the sidewalk next to her, "Good. Beautiful night, isn't it?" I gave a polite "Yes, yes it is. Have a good walk you two!" The elderly man nodded and took four steps before stopping at my walkway, turning to the house and saying, "What are you doing?" I said, "Setting a rat trap to catch the squirrels that are racing on my roof." The elderly woman turned to the man and said, "What did he say dear?" The elderly man attempted to whisper, but I heard him quite plainly. "I don't know what he said. He's on the roof in shorts in February and he has his finger in his mouth." This was the first I was aware that in my nervous state, I'd started sucking the peanut butter off the fingers on my right hand.
Imminent danger awaits you nasty red squirrels. I, like Miss Suzy, will reclaim my comfortable house and protect it against all invaders.
To the families of the soon-to-be-maimed squirrels -- I am very sorry for your partial loss. I will toss some whole pecans into the neighbor lady's yard. Please just enjoy your treats there; my roof is off-limits.
And then there was me
Three years and three months ago Toby and I moved into the house on 57th. My brother Dave moved in with me and my ex. The ex moved out not too long after. Jess, Dave's girlfriend, moved in (upstairs) with Dave. We lived together for nearly two years before they moved into a new house in
Last Summer Jesse moved in with me. It was just a temporary thing until she was due to leave for
I didn't love everything about you all, but I did like coming home to a house that was alive with light, the smell of food, a recent shower, hairspray, freshly sanded wood, perfume, or my cologne sprayed on another. I didn't mind too much that a car was in the driveway, or if the heat was turned up to 75. The dishes in the sink or piled across the counter don't bother me now. The LONG girl hairs stuck in the corner of the room don't make me want to scream anymore. I miss finding the occasional baby doll t-shirt mixed in with my laundry and laughing that it was too small to fold. I don't miss the panties -- sorry ladies. I do miss a bottle of wine shared on a summer afternoon in the garden planted as a present for my birthday. I will always miss the smart debate over environmental issues with you. As for you, I loved your bright spirit and your cheerful voice, even when you were seconds away from crying as I hugged you. Your smile is stunning.
I guess what I am trying to say is, goodbye. I care for each of you. You've sought out what life has in store for you. Thankfully, my soul has remained planted here in
My roots are here in the shadow of Mt. Tabor, walking the paved streets dusted with sweet pine needles on a 90 degree day in summer with my dog, or moving downhill over slippery mud trails in the wet winter trying to stay fit.
So for now, it's just me and Toby. It's a big house for just us, but we're learning to love the new space and making the house on 57th even more comfortable for us and for Danny when he's able to break from his school/work routine.
May this house forever be filled with good food, laughter and love.
Roots exposed
Even though three months have passed since I met Daniel, I didn't know him completely until last weekend.
Late last Friday afternoon, we set out to visit his folks in Milton-Freewater. The sun was bright, but behind us as we headed east along I-84. Funny thing how two people with good communication share even more once in the car. What about facing forward on the open road, while sitting side-by-side, opens the heart and causes us to reveal ourselves more than usual?
We talked about life, past love, broken hearts, proud moments, our hopes and dreams as mile-markers passed us and the wheels hummed a low tone. I am at a loss for words when he reaches for my hand, or places it on his knee. It's a bizarre sense, but hand holding seems to be the wired version of high bandwidth love, where normal affection happens on a more broadband level. (Yes, thats a geek expressing love.)
After four hours or so, we exited I-84 and started weaving through the highways that tie together
We pulled off the road and into the driveway of his Parent's house. Orchards are the most popular landscape in Milton-Freewater, and the Christian house is no different. Rows of apple trees hide the house from view, except when standing in the driveway.
The first to greet us was Jack, Bob's hunting dog. He's a medium-sized Vizsla. Jack is a sweet boy who stands guard and lets no one pass who isn't of kind heart, or packing a pocket full of treats. Truth is, he's quite protective of the place when it comes to male passers-by.
Next was Marilyn, Danny's Mom. She's an incredibly kind woman who focuses her complete attention on you when you're speaking, something that's rare these days. Her love for Danny is very apparent -- big smiles and hugs for him, the same for me. That was reassuring given we were now on her turf, not at the Hillsboro Stadium surrounded by Gay softball players, or in my backyard.
We entered the house and dropped our bags in the middle of the front room. Danny's Father sat in his chair, but rose to greet his only Son. Bob is a quiet guy, like most of his generation. He's a broad shouldered man, with hands that prove he's hardworking, but a smile that can be seen by the entire room, despite his best efforts to hold it back.
Then came Clancy, Daniel's 6 year-old Yorkshire terrier. This dog is as cute as he sounds, even if he was given his "summer cut" and looked more like a miniature lion than a dog. Danny's sister Nicole (one of two sisters; Kim was at home with baby and husband) was visiting from her home nearby. She was busy researching something on the internet, but stopped to say hi.
I'd be lying if I said that touring the house and seeing his childhood bedroom didn't remind me that there are near eight years between us. His room is nearly perfectly preserved; the glow-in-the-dark stars and planets still decorate the ceiling of his room. He asked his friends to name their favorite star or planet, and then pinned the names on the ceiling. The drawers of Danny's desk are full of photos he took as a kid -- bus trips to cities far away, birthday parties, sleepovers, and even a trip to
I slept hard the first night, I guess because it was so quiet and dark. True, the three dogs (two resident and one visiting Pit Bull) in the backyard occasionally barked at what I assume were woodland creatures passing in the dark, but for the most part it was very quiet.
We got up Saturday and sat in the front room slowing collecting ourselves and getting ready for the day. Bob, Marilyn, Danny and I set out to get some shopping out of the way. It was one of the hottest weekends of the year in MF, so we kept our errands to mostly air-conditioned locations. The Christian family has the super-saver gene, which allows them to sense a good-buy from miles away. I was along for the ride, directed to one clearance aisle after another. Slowly my bags started to outnumber those of the Christian Family. (They were good buys, stop laughing!)
We did make it to one estate sale, which was interesting. The house was a beautiful white home on a large lot with a huge duck pond in the backyard. It smelled old, but comforting at the same time. Something strange happened there -- I realized that someday someone will likely walk through my house, see my dress clothes and winter jackets hung on a rod in the middle of my bedroom, and giggle about how dated the style is. People will point at the vase my brother gave for my 27th birthday, the framed picture of my Grandparents, or my salt 'n pepper shakers, and not understand what they meant to me. They'll ask if my belongings can be sold half-price, or if they can have my set of Superman mugs for a discount due to chips in their enamel.
Note to self: be buried with vase, picture of Grandparents, salt 'n pepper shakers and Superman mugs.
Saturday afternoon we stopped by to visit Dick and Ducky, Danny's Grandparents. We sat in folding chairs in the near 100 degree heat, but our visit was made less scorching by a can of soda and freshly picked apricots. I was completely distracted by the wise partial founders of this family. Although elderly and frail in all the usual ways, these two are full of stories of hard work, childhood follies, wise or unwise investments and life lessons. After an hour or so, we said goodbye and set off to buy groceries for dinner.
Dinner was incredible! Besides marinating and grilling salmon, fresh sweet corn and chilled "pink salad" were served. Don't stick your nose up at the pink salad -- it is GOOD. I could have made a meal outta that alone. Our bellies crammed full of food, Danny and I went into town to meet his friend Josh at his Father's highway market. Josh is a lot like Danny -- same height, big smile, dark hair and very personable. Josh was just one of four to five friends who spent afternoons and weekend nights playing video games together. We went back to Josh's house and arranged the furniture around the TV in preparation for a Smash Bros. battle between the two guys who can actually play the game. Luckily, we'd stopped by a friend's house on the way and picked up the equipment for Donkey Kongo, a game more suited to my utter lack of gaming skill or sense. Not that I am terribly uncoordinated, but this game didn't make me nauseous as my eyes tried to track the lightening-fast characters bouncing all over the screen, lasers blasting and bits of exploding character flying to unseen depths of the TV.
Sunday was our last morning. We passed the early morning hours watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a family. The front room is arranged to accommodate as many family and friends and possible. Central to the room is the large TV, where the family enjoys sporting events or Sci-Fi series together. Family-time and imagination are key themes in this house which has produced straight-A students, national sports stars, and a new Mom.
The love his family has for Danny was never more apparent than when we started loading up the car. Crates of peaches, cherries, berries, bananas, onions, water, snacks, large bottles of juice, boxed goods, handmade gifts, and leftovers; you name it, his Mom sent it with us. One gains intense perspective when looking in the direction of a large city from a smaller, more rural location. Few in MF fear
There was less conversation on the way home, I suspect as most topics had been explored during the first stretch. This drive was spent listening to music and catching glimpses of windsurfers on the
We got home near 6:30 p.m. on Sunday. We were hungry and tired (what about sitting on your ass for four hours makes you so tired?) and spent the night watching more Buffy, while I unpacked, did laundry, and Danny played Neverwinter Nights (RPG on his laptop.)
I love Danny for all the contrast that exists inside him. He's the younger brother to two sisters, so he loved by every woman he meets. He's a strong man, an athlete and quite fit, but his touch is as gentle as any I've ever known. He's an indoor game'er, but wouldn't miss the chance to head outside for an intense softball game, complete with cracking bats and sliding. He's an accomplished student and quite smart, but can easily lose himself in a good work of science-fiction. He suits up in slacks, a dress shirt and a white lab coat for work, but roams the house in comfortably worn t-shirts and gym shorts. He giggles like a kid, but has tackled many challenges on his own, far away from home, far away from his family's guidance and immediate support. He's a man in his own right, but a son, a brother, and a goofy playmate for the children of his friends. He also happens to be the man I love, for these reasons and many more.
You
If I grab the hot pan and flinch, you ask me if I am ok.
If I am too quiet or seem distracted, you ask me if I am ok.
You are quick to help with the band-aid.
You insist I offer an opinion about where to eat.
You insist on paying your share. Although I believe that "my treat" means I pay, your responsibility and equal contribution are... well, hot.
I am fortunate to have so many incredible people in my life. I am often asked what will make me happy -- what others can do for me that will make me feel as good as my joke, advice or support made them feel. Know what? You are that something.
Not only are you recognition of all that I strive for, you make me want to be so much more.
I love you.
Why I love you
Wow. It's been a while.
Date #8 was last night. I thought I would take a second and record all the recent reasons I love you.
- You found my house on your own, and you came in the door without knocking.
- You reminded me you like you eat dinner early.
- You let me pick where we ate.
- We tried something new together.
- The table was lit by a single candle.
- We shared food.
- You seem as comfortable with my arm around you in public as I feel when I put my arm around you.
- You acknowledged a favorite activity of mine -- daily shopping with a partner.
- You feel comfortable being a geek in front of me.
- You so often reach out to touch me, even in small ways.
- You look better in scrubs than I do.
- You are a great kisser.
- Going to sleep next to you has quickly over-taken the comfort I used feel when sleeping alone.
- You are comfortable letting me stare at you before breakfast is served.
- You show me your beautiful smile more often than not.
- You don't let me take myself too seriously.
You are rare in this world. You've made my life all that more exciting in past weeks and I am so thankful.
