Why Not Be A Passenger?

I was conversing with a close [straight] friend who lives in a distant state the other day, saying that I was longing to get back on the saddle of a motorcycle. I am unhappy because the weather is gorgeous and yet my Harley remains in the garage, unused, because my doc says I can't ride yet until my leg heals some more after I broke it in January.

My friend asked, "why not ride as a passenger?"

It was a simple-enough question. If I can't put my feet down and man-handle a big motorcycle, I could, at least, ride as a passenger, right?

Well... no, I don't think so.

My partner does not know how to ride a motorcycle, so he couldn't take me. My very close biker buddy friend who wouldn't bat an eye taking me as his passenger was killed six years ago by a cell phone yapping SUV-driving yuppie. And, unfortunately, I do not have any other friends to whom I am close enough and who can ride a motorcycle to ask.

Sure, I belong to a motorcycle riding club and often ride with them on group rides. Unfortunately, I observe that most of these guys, if not all, are wary of me. I am the only "fully out" gay guy among them. (I figure if statistics are accurate, there are other gay men in the club, but if there are, they live completely in the closet.) The club members are friendly enough, but keep their distance socially. I think they're afraid of "gay by association" if they get too close.

I have to admit, I keep my distance, too, mostly because I'm not the social animal that other, younger, single guys are. And the guys who aren't single and who are sociable always bring their wives to social occasions (many of whom are riders themselves.) My partner is so anti-social that he rarely comes to me to any biker-related social events, so it is easy to perceive that I am not all that sociable. And, as I have said before, I don't like to stay up late and drink beer. Thus, I avoid most biker social events because the hours and activities are incompatible with my preferences. I can understand, then, why there are distances in our relationships, and the distances aren't all related to the fact that I am a gay man.

Regardless, when my friend asked me simply about whether I could ride as someone's passenger, I thought, "nope, ain't gonna happen." I really don't know anyone (or think I know anyone) who is man enough, secure enough, and courageous enough to take me as his passenger.

I also have to admit that being a motorcycle operator for some 33 years, it would be darned hard to be a passenger. I think I would naturally try to drive, or to put my foot down, to lean, or otherwise make things unintentionally difficult for the operator.

I commended my (straight) friend for being such an open-minded guy. He is not naive, but since he is not gay, he does not have much of an idea of what I live with. Homophobia comes in a variety of forms. Most of it is not overt. But it shows, for example, as people consider how close to get to me -- or how not.

Life is short: dream of the day when things like this don't matter.

Hobbling Hoppy Easter!

Today I have modified my plans. Usually on the Saturday before Easter, I put small packages of Easter treats (sugar-free Peeps, jelly beans, and chocolate eggs) into my Harley's TourPak, then while dressed in a full bunny costume, ride around the senior's community near me and deliver one of these packages to special senior pals. This has become somewhat of a holiday tradition, and even was featured in The Washington Post a few years ago. It's a hoot! It brightens the spirits of my friends and is so much fun to do.

Well, unfortunately, I can't ride my beloved Harley yet. My doctor told me not to think about riding until at least mid-April. At first I argued, but now I realize that he was right. My leg still hurts a lot and the ankle is still swollen. But it WILL get better! I just have to give it some more time.

But this darned leg isn't going to stop me from brightening the day of my senior pals or stop me from my tradition! I'm just changing it a little bit. My partner ordinarily goes to visit his Mom for Easter, but because he is still worried about me, is staying home this year. He will drive me in my truck. I can and will wear that bunny costume! I will become the "hobbling hoppy Easter bunny!"

Watch out! There's a cwazy wabbit wunning awound wilver wing! Bwa ha ha!

Woo-hoo! Life is short: show those you love that you love them! Happy Easter, Pasqua, or whatever!

You're Too Damn Happy

I received an email the other day from someone who said this: "You're Too Damn Happy." He went on to say, "all this stuff about your partner and how all these old people took care of you. Bullshit."

And that's all he said.

Hey, fella, the reason why I didn't reply to your rant via email is that there really isn't anything I could say. It is obvious to me that you're hurting. I truly am sorry about your plight and mental state that drove you to write to me and say what you said.

Is my life perfect? No. I've got a lot of things going on that I choose not to blog about. Seriously, people don't want to read about the bad stuff. I have read blogs by others who have complained about life serving them lemons, and usually it comes across badly. It sounds like whining and ranting, which nobody wants to read. There are a few exceptional people who can make a rant sound funny. I mean belly-laugh funny. Unfortunately, I don't have the skills to write humorously. So I usually choose not to rant, whine, or whimper about things that suck. (Though I might have sounded a bit whiney as I was dealing with my broken leg.)

There is so much tension in the world, lately driven by tea-bagging morons, but before that, driven by the economy, politics, or other matters -- it would be easy to get sucked into an uncivil demeanor and to wallow in negativity.

I deliberately choose the opposite. Perhaps it comes from my upbringing, when my parents taught us to look ahead and to look forward. Perhaps it comes from being secure and self-confident. Yeah, some bad things are goin' on in my world, but I can handle it. I can, because -- yep, here I go again -- of that 'net that I have supporting me. Heck, even from Australia, my friend Sue commented the other day about the sunny outlook that I have, and that I have inspired her to smile as she walks along the beaches of the sunny coasts of Australia, a place that I have truly enjoyed visiting.

You see, we're all in this world together. The physical world in my home and community, and the larger world of people with whom we engage via the 'net. Through the power of positive outreach and support, I firmly believe that we can make the world a better place -- one step at a time.

'K, I'll take it: I'm too "damn happy." Heck, I'd rather be "damn happy" than "sucky sad." Smile and get a life, buddy.

Life is short: smile. Make them wonder why.

I've Got Products!

How do you like my new Spring image? I was tired of the gray hair, so I had my stylist use a male hair coloring product to return my hair to its original medium blond shade. I thought the hair gel product was just the thing to use, too. Doesn't my hair look great all spiky? The light fuzz on my face is by design -- so many men these days do a light shave, but let facial hair in a full beard show. Not a big fuzzy one, but a light beard -- it's, well, so sheik. I'm sure all the guys will notice my new look.

While I was laid up with a broken leg, I began to study men's style websites and magazines. Man, those style guys sure know how to put it all together, from the new Spring suits, dress shirts, colorful ties, and even pocket squares to add just the right touch. Everybody I follow on Twitter is all abuzz about this year's new men's styles. I can't wait to try on a new pair of dress oxfords that I got at Neiman Marcus. Man, they were a "steal" at only $495. Hmmm, I should consider getting another pair in brown and alternate wearing them.

While I was at NM, I had a long talk with the guy at the men's "product's" counter. This term became popular when the show Queer Eye for the Straight Guy was on television a few years ago. I am amazed, there are so many from which to choose! Hair gel, mousse, facial wash, body splash, and lots of fragrances, too. And oh! This really neat book on how to groom my new beard!






Okay, I can't stand it any longer: APRIL FOOL!

You wouldn't honestly believe that I, Booted Harleydude, the quintessential masculine gay man into boots, leather, mud, and motorcycles, would fall for this stuff, would you? Sheesh... gag me, will 'ya?

Don't get me wrong: a full beard looks great on some men. Being partially Native American, I can't grow one. However, these "light fuzz" beards that require hours of daily grooming are a bit beyond me.

I hope, though, since I parodied all this crap that I won't have to turn in my gay badge. Oops, where did I put that thing, after all?

Bootprints of Our Journey

My wonderful partner,

A buddy sent me an email message recently, commenting on your walking with me on my first day returning to work after being confined at home with a broken leg.  You rode with me on the Metro into the city and walked with me to my office. My buddy said, "Love walks with you."

I smiled when I read that. It caused me to think about my relationship with you. You have walked by my side now for 17 years. You aren't out front, you're not behind. You are right by my side. You are my teammate on my life journey.

I look a bit more introspectively at my relationship with you, and your relationship with me. It has taken us a while to achieve this level of understanding. There are certain tasks at which I am better suited to complete, and other tasks that you do better. That's normal and understandable.

But it's more than that. When it comes down to the tough issues, requiring hard work and "hard thought," we do it together. We ask questions, and talk it through. We make a plan of action, and follow it. We reconsider our plan if it isn't working and redouble our efforts to achieve our goals.

I think this is descriptive of what makes a good relationship: we respect each other and engage the other's natural talents. Further, we talk it through. We identify what components of a task are daunting, and how we can resolve them, whether we do it ourselves or if we have to hire a professional. It's a joint decision.

I guess that summarizes a lot about our relationship: "it's a joint decision." Often as I am pondering a question, I find myself thinking, "what would you think about?" or "what would you say?" or "what are the questions that I want to ask you?" You are always in my mind, and I benefit so much from your intelligence.

There are lots of stories and fables over time about how couples walk side-by-side on their life's journey. The poem by Mary Stevenson about the man who was angry with God because there were only one set of footprints in the sand at the low points of his life's journey, and he thought God had abandoned him. God replied, "that's when I was carrying you."

This parallels my last couple of months. If you look at the figurative bootprints of our life journey, you'll see only one set of bootprints during the past couple months. That is when you were carrying me.

I won't quote clichés. Instead, I reflect on my lifemate, my partner, my best friend, my soul, and say, "love, walk with me." You smile, take my hand in yours, and say, "let's go, it's our journey."

I am so humbly appreciative of you. But you know what, if we're going this strong after 17 years, I think we're on to something (smile.)

I love you. Today, always, and together as we make bootprints on our life's journey.

Me :-)

Easing Into Leather

My recovery from the broken leg is going very well now. I am walking with a more steady gait, and not limping (much...). I can wear two normal boots with relatively flat soles. I have been getting a lot of exercise by swimming and walking. That helps me regain the range of motion in my ankle, as well as helps control weight... though it's coming off in ounces and not by the pound. (I expected that. All good things take time.)

During the eight weeks that I was housebound and had a splint or cast on my leg, I couldn't wear a pair of leather jeans if I wanted to. I probably could have put on a pair of chaps, but I wasn't interested. It was a chore just to get situated into my easy-chair during the day and back to bed at night, so attempting to get leather gear out of the closet and put it on was too much to think about. Plus, my partner was much more concerned about me and my recovery to think about getting me any leather to wear.

Even though the cast has been off for more than a week, my right ankle is still swollen. By the end of the day, it is rather large. I have to elevate it and put ice on it. So again, at least for the past cast-less week, I have not considered wearing any leather. I guess another reason that I haven't thought much about wearing leather is that I am prohibited from riding my Harley, so I don't need to put on protective clothing.

However, as I am regaining my strength and stability, and while it is still cool outdoors, I am also regaining interest in wearing leather again. Let's say that I am "easing into it." I have worn a leather shirt around the house when I get home from work. I'll probably put on a pair of leather jeans soon to see how they fit. I will not, however, be able to wear leather breeches that zip closed around the lower ankle to fit inside tall patrol boots. The ankle swelling situation has to go away before I can even "think" of wearing leather breeches or patrol boots again. Perhaps by autumn... but not now, and probably not during the summer, either.

All good things come to those who wait. I am a patient man.

Life is short: think forward!

Linear or Divergent Thinker?

I love my partner; however, what I am about to describe is one of his attributes that drives me most crazy, and my alternate approach is nerve-wracking to him.

That is, my partner is a linear thinker. One thing at a time. Do what's on your mind when you think of it. Get the job done, then move on to the next in sequence.

Me? I am a divergent thinker. I often think of the "big picture" and organize my tasks logically, but not necessarily sequentially.

This is how we are different: my partner will be setting the table for dinner. He will notice that the napkin holder is low, so he will go to the cupboard to get more. He will notice that the supply of napkins in the kitchen cupboard is low, so he will immediately go into the basement where we store a larger supply to get more.

Okay, that all makes sense. But he should finish setting the table first, rather than carry the forks and knives in his hands as he makes these treks around the kitchen and basement (this would be funny if it weren't true!)

For me? Well, here's an example of what I do that is similar in task accomplishment, but from a different style of organization. When I am preparing a meal, I will pull out all the ingredients that are needed to make it and put them on the kitchen island. I will begin making my creation. As I go along, I realize that I have used up two or three items. But that's okay, I know there are more in the basement pantry. I "make a mental note of it" while I finish preparing the meal. While the meal is cooking, I will then go get the items that need to be replenished.

Trouble is, that works fine most of the time, but being the absent-minded type, there are often times when I forget to go get the stuff we need, and remember it later. My partner and I will be seated in our basement watching TV, and I'll remember, "oh, yeah, right... I need this-n-that." I will get it out of the basement pantry and put it on the steps, so I will see it and remember to bring it up when we finish watching TV and go up to bed.

My partner, on the other hand, will harrumph and sigh, and just bring the items up right then, leaving the TV show running and missing part of it.

My partner's way of doing things "when seen, right now" causes me consternation. For example, when my leg was broken and I was seated at the kitchen table, he would bring me my plate, but leave my glass of milk on the counter while he went and filled the napkin holder, put an extra knife away, put a pan in the sink and washed it, then brought me my milk and sat down himself to eat. There were times when the food would get cold while he was doing all these tasks so exactly and so sequentially.

Who's right? Which way is best? Well, in almost 17 years, neither of us believes that the other's approach is correct. However, we manage and deal with our quirks and idiosyncrasies, even though my way is better. I love him, always. (smile.)

Life is short: how do you think?

Being Called

Yesterday morning, my partner and I got up early and went to the swimming pool, where I swam 40 lengths so I could get much-needed exercise and work out the stiffness in my injured leg and ankle.

When we got home, I prepared breakfast, then put some ice on my ankle and elevated it to rest for a while. Then a cop buddy of mine came over, and he went with me to practice driving again! We spent an hour in an empty parking lot where I turned, stopped short, reversed, and otherwise got comfortable behind the wheel again. Yippie! I can drive!

When I returned, I grilled lunch for my partner and me, then once again, put my ankle up and iced it. My partner and I were plotting out the rest of the day when the phone rang. The caller was a daughter of one of my senior pals, Hal. I had computed and filed Hal's tax return, so I thought perhaps his daughter was calling about that.

Instead, it was something I didn't want to hear. Hal had a heart attack and was in the hospital. I decided to go see Hal. I drove carefully, but fortunately traffic wasn't bad and the hospital is not that far away. I found Hal's room. His daughter greeted me and said that Hal was sleeping. She told me that the doctor said that his heart attack was bad, and that they weren't sure he would recover.

I went over and held his hand. I sat with Hal for several hours. Nurses would come in to check from time to time. The doctor showed up and said that there wasn't much that could be done right now but let him rest. His condition was grave, and the doc said that he wasn't sure that Hal would have much of a quality of life because he may have had brain damage when his heart had stopped beating.

His daughter, who lives out-of-town, told me that over the years that her father had talked a lot about me, and frequently referred to me as "his young pal." Hal was a very interesting man to learn from. We had many long, pleasant, insightful conversations.

I remember one of those conversations was about death and dying. Hal didn't want to have a prolonged, painful death. He had signed a Living Will. His daughter was vaguely aware of it, but did not know where his papers were. Because I had done Hal's taxes, I knew where to find them. His daughter and I talked, and she agreed that she should go back to the house to get the papers so that the doctors would have authorization to take care of Hal the way that Hal wanted.

When his daughter returned, Hal's condition had not changed. He was still unconscious. The Advance Medical Directives (that is what a "Living Will" is formally called) clearly explained that Hal did not want any life-prolonging measures to be taken. It specifically indicated that a feeding tube or ventilator was not to be used. His daughter understood, and brought the papers to the doctor's attention.

The doctor discussed it with the hospital's legal people, and they agreed that everything was in order. The ventilator was removed. Hal continued to breathe for a little while, but then he stopped... he died.

I know this is very sad, yet I also know what this situation is like. I lived with it personally when I took care of my uncle through the winter of his life until his death. I was there when my uncle died.

There was no wailing and screaming, though Hal's daughter and I cried and held each other. But this is what Hal wanted. His death was rather quick and the anguish was minimized. Hal's daughter thanked me for being her Dad's friend and for helping him all these years, as well as for remembering Hal's final wishes and enabling her to help her Dad fulfill them and die as he wished.

I was pretty much mentally wasted and exhausted by the time I got home. I just curled up with my partner and had a good cry. My partner held me close, and said what I often say,

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.

Weekly Goals

January 24 my life changed significantly when I fell and broke my leg. For eight weeks after it happened, I was stuck in a chair and was pretty much immobile. I "escaped" a few times, but for the most part, I didn't go anywhere or do anything, and could not walk.

On March 19, the cast was removed from my leg. I thought, "oh wow! Freedom!" But my leg had "other plans." It literally didn't want to move. I had forgotten how to walk! I was amazed and shocked. Taking one step felt incredibly hard. And it hurt!

The next day, I began to do some exercises, and the day after that, I went swimming. Both of these activities helped me regain some flexibility in my ankle, which for eight weeks had been frozen in a 90-degree position.

I decided to make goals for each of the next several weeks, because I realized that my recovery would not be so dramatic that I would be wearing high-heeled cowboy boots and line dancing the day I got my cast off.

Week 1: (this past week) -- learn to walk with a cane and navigate using Metro to return to work and back. My partner drove each day to the Metro garage. After dinner: leg up, elevated and on ice. Weekend: re-learn how to drive my four-wheeled vehicle again. Go visit my lovely aunt.

Week 2: (this week) -- get to my first official physical therapy appointment and see if they can help. Drive myself to the Metro parking garage and get to work, and return safely each day. After dinner: leg up, elevated and on ice.

Week 3: (next week) -- continue with physical therapy as recommended, continue to get myself to work and back, and attend one meeting in the evening after work. Still driving (only) in my four-wheeled vehicle. The Harley will just have to wait. I will TRY to wear a different pair of boots if the ankle swelling is reduced and other boots will fit.

Week 4: physical therapy, work full-time, and two evening meetings. Still using a four-wheeled vehicle. At the end of the week, return to my orthopedic doctor for an evaluation, plus a hoped-for clearance to return to riding my Harley. On the Saturday of this week, conduct my annual "Senior Safety Saturday" which is already well organized. I will not be able to run around doing repairs and installations as I had done in years past. I will sit at the registration table for the day, ensure assignments are understood, and resolve problems.

Week 5: all of the above (work, evening meetings) plus re-learning how to ride my Harley. But only on the weekend. I don't quite think I will be ready yet to ride it to the Metro and back every day.

Week 6: lead a ride [the censors won't let me say when or where], plus all of the above.

Weeks onward: ALL OF THE ABOVE!

Life is short: plan for the future -- one step at a time.

Birthday Shout and Other Bits

Today is my best friend's birthday. I call him "AZ" on this blog and on BOL. I call him a caring and thoughtful soul. Lots of others do, too. I call him handsome, intelligent, funny, and fun -- as do many others as well.

AZ is a humble man, and doesn't like a lot of attention. So these few lines will serve sufficiently to say that I am observing this annual milestone for my best buddy, I wish him well, and wish that I could be in Arizona so I could bake him a cake and give him a hug. This "e-hug" will have to do, though I sent him a small gift and a card. I know he knows how highly I think of him, so I promised him, "basta." (This is enough--no gushing.)

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In other news...

Today is FRIDAY! Woo-hoo! It's been a heck of a long week, being my first week back at work after having my cast cut off and being cleared to go back to work. My partner has eased me into it by driving us to the Metro and home each day, which was much appreciated.

I smile a lot when I think of "Friday," because my buddy Clay gets so very excited about Fridays. He does a "Friday Happy Dance" that I hear about and when I do, it makes me happy, too. Thanks, Clay, for always brightening my Fridays (and the rest of the week, too!)

My friend Kevin, the wise and introspective one, posted a comment on a blog post that caused me to think a great deal about the difference between religion and faith. It was in a comment to this post. What he said that hit close to my heart is that "faith is inspired by mercy" and it is faith that drives people to alleviate suffering and to help others. Yeah, he's absolutely right once again ... he hit my nail on the head. Thanks, Kevin, for your inspiring thoughts and reflections.

My twin brother, J, called yesterday and was grilling me about my recovery. He wants me to get better, but doesn't want me to overdo it. He has been reading some things I had posted in other forums and was concerned. I assured him that with mother-hubbard St. Partner on my case, there's no way I can "overdo it." I am so blessed; my partner is still doing a lot of things for me that I just don't have the energy or ability to do at this stage of my recovery, with nary a whimper, either. So rest assured, J, I am not killing myself or prolonging my recovery when I use words like, "pushing through the pain."

I'll close with another reflection from my friend Kevin, who said that upon reading my blog posts over time, that the sentiment in the Frank Capra movie from which I've quoted a lot, It's a Wonderful Life, applies to me in real life. I have a wonderful net of family and friends with whom I am closely bonded. They actually enjoyed caring for me when I was laid up with my broken leg. My man loves me deeply, as I love him. Our home is nice, our community supportive, and our state accepting (and our State Senate finally had the cajones to pass a bill about using cell phones while driving that I had been supporting for over eight years!) All-in-all, yeah, it's a wonderful life and I'm happy to be in it. Especially, I'm happy to be closely intertwined with all who compose my life.

Life is short: love it! Happy birthday, AZ! (Ha, you thought I said enough was enough, didn't 'ya!)