Palm Springs - Sep 2016

Sunday, September 11
On the fifteenth anniversary of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center towers in New York City, at approximately the same time of that disaster Ken and I boarded an American Airline flight departing from Logan Airport in Boston.  Upon boarding we witnessed, from our seats, a portion of a commemorative ceremony memorializing that event being held at the gate from which the ill fated plane had departed.

We arose at 4AM to take the C & J bus from Portsmouth to Logan.  There, upon successful pre-boarding procedures, we had breakfast and purchased sandwiches to take with us for lunch during the flight.  Departing Boston at 9:15AM, we were pleasantly surprised that breakfast sandwiches were available during the comfortable trip.  Arriving at Los Angeles, 2PM PST, we shuttled to the rental car agency, picked up our vehicle and checked in at the nearby LaQuinta LAX hotel.  There we ate our Logan-purchased sandwiches before driving to West Hollywood.  As the weather was Maine-like and Ken had brought neither sweatshirt nor sweater (after all, our final destination was Palm Springs where temperatures were high) we stopped along the way and made an appropriate purchase for him.  I discovered that the area had changed, or my memory had, during the 30 years since last I cruised Santa Monica Blvd.  We found Micky's bar, where I spent a considerable amount of time during those earlier days, completely revamped but still crammed with beautiful boys.  Parking was non-existent and we did not stop to cruise but continued on to find other familiar landmarks that did not materialize.  However, we did pass by Hollywood Bowl where there must have been a significant event in progress due to the surrounding crowded parking lots and buses.  Back to the hotel for much welcomed sleep.


Monday, September 12

After a buffet breakfast at the hotel, we checked out and drove back to West Hollywood and found street parking on Santa Monica Blvd. Walked to Micky's to photograph it, then on to The Abby where we had lunch.  Drove into Hollywood where we found a street from which to view the Hollywood sign, then on to my former neighborhood and to view the apartment building where I had lived.
          
           

Through heavy rush hour traffic we started our trek to Palm Springs via Rte 101 which turned out to be the Pomona Freeway tat took us though West Covina from where the hills of Hacienda Heights, the location of the second home I purchased, were visible.  Ken had taken his GPS for help with finding locations, but it wasn't programmed for the west coast and we used Google Maps on his smartphone.




During the trip, I hit a wrong key that locked us out.  Stopping at a rest area, Ken tried to reinstate the phone to no avail. Knowing the rest of the way we traveled on to Palm Springs and eventually found La Dolce Vita Resort and Spa where friend Larry was waiting our arrival.  The temperature was comfortable mid-70s. He gave us tour of resort...2 pools, 2 hot tubs 22 units. We occupied a poolside 2 bedroom suite with full kitchen.Spent the remainder of the evening poolside catching up and planning the next few days.

​​​Each morning we were up at 7 taking an hour's walk, before eating breakfast at the resort. Temps, at that time of day, still mid70s under cloudless blue sky.

Tuesday, September 13
Larry directed us on a driving tour of downtown PSP. Addressing the fact that Ken's phone had died during trip from LA, we found a Verizon store where he was advised that repair would be costly and time consuming so he bought a new version.  Larry & I walked the downtown streets in mid-90 degree temp while waiting for Ken to work out the details of his purchase. Following that we went grocery shopping.  Dinner at Sammy G's, an Italian restaurant, followed by a walk through the gay bar/club district winding up the day at the pools and hot-tubs.

Wednesday, September 14
 Following our morning walk and breakfast, the temperature climbed into the high 90s. We found Liberace's former home after a bit of walking and retracing steps, then drove to the Kaufmann House (designed by famous architect Richard Neutra, from FLLW's era). Stopped at the Art Museum but it was closed, nice grounds. Temps still mid 90s. That evening Larry cooked us a delicious baked salmon. We then went to the Purple Room lounge to hear a jazz trio and soloist that had performed in Ogunquit. Larry had met them there and we spent a short time refreshing memories with them. Returning to the resort we enjoyed the pool where Ken gave Larry swimming technique counseling based on Ken's early life experience as counselor at a children's summer camp in New Hampshire.

Thursday, September 15

After our morning walk and breakfast Larry had a previously made engagement so Ken & I did some solo sightseeing with temps in the low 100s. We found the Architectural Design Center closed because they were changing exhibits for their high season. We visited the Native American History Museum, local tribe: Agua Caliente. We took in the Art Museum where we toured all three floors.



During the evening, with Larry joining us, we went to the Village Street Festival, held each week, where arts and crafts along with fair-food booths generously displayed their wares. Took a quick walk through of the local casino then returned to the the pools and hot-tubs at the resort
.

Friday, September 16 (Kern's birthday)  
Following our morning walk and breakfast the temperature climbed quickly to 107 degrees  We spent most of the day in the pools and tubs. The resort hosted an open bar social hour where we met some of the other guests that we hadn't already met. Ken prepared a very nice chicken dinner before we swam some more. A full moon enhanced our time outside.

 Saturday, September 17 
Another day with hot temperatures. Ken & I did most of our packing for the return trip then went to the PSP airport to see if he could get special employee boarding passes for our flight to no avail. We drove to Cathedral City to see if we could find the area where I weekend camped with boyfriend-at-the-time, Tony. Found that there had been too many changes during the 30 years since my last visit there to find the place, if it even still existed. We cooled off with one last swim at the resort before Larry treated us to a very nice belated birthday dinner for Ken at The New York Steakhouse.  We returned to the resort to say our goodbyes at the social hour then headed for LA arriving at the hotel around 10 pm.

Sunday, September 18
 Up early at 3 am, Turned in the car and shuttled to LAX where we had breakfast at a Starbuck's
followed by a 1-1/2 hr delay in our departure. Arrived in BOS early evening and took the C & J bus back to Portsmouth.  Drove home where we were welcomed by our​ kits.

RESPITE 2016

Respite 2016

Friend, Larry, from Oregon, visited Ogunquit recently.  Originally from the Boston area, he is retired and among his passions are walking, writing and photography with which he embellishes his blog.  Almost annually, during the nearly 10 years that we have been acquainted, he has crossed country by train to obtain his "fix" of New England.  I always enjoy Larry's visits in that not only does it enable us to renew our friendship but it also provides a respite from the routines of life...a mini-vacation, so to speak.  

Prior to his arrival, this trip, Larry suggested that Ken and I meet him at Back Bay Station in Boston where Amtrak would deposit him late in the evening.  We did that, using Amtrak's local Downeaster from our town of Wells, and with Larry made our way the few blocks to Marriott's Copley Plaza hotel.  Dinner was enjoyed at Club Cafe, in Boston's south end to which we walked.  The following morning, as Larry wanted to visit the campus of his Alma Mater, Tufts University, we rode the subway system to as close as it went then walked the distance remaining.  It was a comfortable day for walking and the view of Boston was spectacular from the "top of the library".  In order to arrive at North Station, for our return to Maine, before the train departed Larry called for a taxi that whisked us back to town and eventually we concluded our trip with Larry comfortably ensconced in his Ogunquit motel room.

During the following three weeks, Larry walked many miles including the 5 mile walk from Ogunquit to Wells where, one evening, Ken and I hosted dinner at our home.  At other times we ate and drank at favored restaurants, walked and conversed, watched a televised Republican political debate as well as an Oregon Ducks football win.  Larry spent an afternoon of sightseeing with my sister, and at the conclusion of his stay in Ogunquit his Godson, Joel, and wife drove from Vermont to spend a night with him.  Having met Joel some years before, in Ketchikan when Larry and I cruised to Alaska, I joined them for drinks on the eve of Larry's departure.  The following day Ken and I enjoyed brunch with Larry prior to seeing him off at the Amtrak station where he continued his journey to Boston and beyond.   

Walk at Wells Beach

November 20, 2015

An overnight rain storm departed earlier today leaving a moderate off-shore breeze in its wake.  The sea is still churning with fast breakers loaded with sand and rooster-tails of spray lifted and tossed seaward by that wind.  Friend Larry, a recent visitor to our shore, spoke of messages he received from the sea as he walked the beach at Ogunquit.  With my mind open, during today's walk, I perceived a message of PEACE even as the water roiled.  Usually, during my beach walks, my mind is occupied with songs of praise and gratefulness for the privilege of life along this shore.  Ah, that today's message may be from a harbinger relating globally to days that will follow!

Simply, An Elegant Wedding

The Wedding of Beth Ann Cooper & Robert Zdonick, Jr., October 11, 2014

My Granddaughter

As planned Ken & I arrived at the bed and breakfast, Dexter's Inn, in Sunapee, NH, with ample time to prepare for the 5:30 PM ceremony.  The rural inn is located at significant elevation commanding views of both Mt. Sunapee (sporting it's ski trail scars) and Mt. Kearsarge underscored by a sliver of Lake Sunapee. A pretty sight with autumn foliage at its peak.  

 My daughter, Brenda, and her husband, Joe, hosted the wedding at their newly completed home, in Sutton, as fifth generation occupants of property originally owned by my great-grandparents.  The building includes an open covered porch with decorative wood-beamed structure protecting its main entrance.  This became the location for the ceremony.  Rows of comfortable folding chairs facing the porch accommodated the guests.

The ceremony was attended by immediate family members and close friends and was officiated by my daughter who is a New Hampshire Justice of the Peace.  The bride wore an exquisitely designed white satin gown with a medium length train.  

In addition to both their full-time jobs Brenda & Joe annually plant and manage large vegetable gardens.  As a part of that operation they have a large tubular-frame sheet-plastic covered greenhouse that, for the wedding, they moved close to the main house and decorated for use as a reception hall.  With overhead lighting, created by using multiple strings of clear Christmas lights, and groups of candle-lit arrangements surrounding a lengthy cloth covered table complete with a center burlap runner and glowing candlesticks the utilitarian structure became a protected, warm and romantic venue in which to celebrate the marriage.  

SPRINGLIKE, Tuesday, April 1, 2014

SPRINGLIKE,  Tuesday, April 1, 2014

March came in like a lamb and though the lion gave one final roar before departure, April  graciously dawned in spring mode.  It is hoped that it is not an April Fool caper!  The snow mass on the area lawns has thinned, but none of the spring flowers have ventured forth. The rose bushes look dead as do the buds on the early rhody, but how can anything different be expected when the temperature only rose above freezing a couple days during the prior month?  At least, here at the coast, there has not been a significant snowfall during the past couple weeks...it's a good thing as the snow shovels are worn out.

Three hours following high tide, the surf at Wells Beach was active as breakers sheeting the sand were closely spaced.  A pair of surfers abandoned their unsuccessful efforts to paddle out beyond the rough sea.  With their each attempt the force of the waves drove them back toward shore a greater distance than they had gained.  For the beach walkers, however, the wind was light with a bright sun in a clear blue sky creating virtual warmth that exceeded the 42-degree air temperature.  The pebble strewn beach sand gave evidence of wind driven surf of the night before.  Ogunquit Beach, five miles south, would have been more comfortable to walk, but lacked the potential for a find of sea glass.  In a competitive effort the ebbing tide, during a forty minute walk, left an increasing width of smooth packed sand.   With a sense of complete satisfaction, I picked up a piece of sea glass and headed home.

Vacation 2013: One Day at a Time

"Maine, the way life should be"...a slogan evidently coined by the tourism guys in Augusta.  Being a resident here makes one aware that the way life actually IS may reflect a different picture.  Many of us spend our summers in the hospitality industry making sure that those seeking the pleasures of Maine get to enjoy them.  While those fortunate visitors lounge on ocean and lake beaches, camp in pine forests, hike trails and shore, explore history, and shop, we who live here also have homes to maintain and clean.  We do the laundry, shop for groceries, service our vehicles, mow lawns, and grab a few winks of sleep overnight before putting on our smiles and welcome hats for another day of service.

Summer vacations are hard to come by for the working Maine resident.  So, we take them a day at a time.  We grab a stroll on the beach, if the tide is right when we find that available minute or we build in a detour along the path we are required to traverse during the day.  We plan a picnic if friends or relatives are in the area.  During a routine shopping trip, or around an appointment, a break at a local coffee shop becomes a welcome respite.  Celebrating a birthday or anniversary provides a dinner out or an evening at a local entertainment venue.

As an example Ken & I, disappointed that summer was passing us by without our involvement, decided to take a drive.  We had never been to Cape Porpoise, a part of Kennebunkport, so we followed Maine State Route 9 and finding that the town was somewhat lackluster we entered a street that seemed to be directed toward the coast.  Shortly, we came upon a bustling bayside restaurant that was part of a lobstering  operation.  Finding a parking spot along side a boat ramp that due to low tide was not going to be used we walked to the lobstering pier where we observed a catch being transferred from a boat to a waiting delivery truck.  Goat Island Light was visible at the mouth of the harbor providing a pretty view.  Continuing along Route 9 we hoped to find Goose Rocks Beach, but missed a turn and found a secluded beach where there were several parking spaces.  Grabbing the lunch bag that Ken had thoughtfully packed before we left home, we came across a large driftwood log that made a perfect bench for a picnic lunch on the beach.  We traveled north, through Saco into the Biddeford Pool area which we explored.  It wasn't long before we found ourselves at Old Orchard Beach and a few miles north of the pier discovered a lobster market where we stopped for a drink.  At the adjoining pier a lobster boat was being loaded for a trip out and from which kids were having a banner day catching crabs.  We retraced our route now traveling south toward home and eventually entered the Turnpike leaving it at Kennebunk where we stopped at Federal Jack's restaurant, in Kennebunkport, for a light meal. 

The day was pretty, the drive interesting, and we were together.  A very nice vacation...one day at a time!

Winter Fest 2013

My daughter, Brenda and her husband, Joe, host an annual WinterFest in Sutton, NH, on Presidents' Day weekend.  This year there was plenty of snow to satisfy all cravings for downhill speed using a multitude of conveyances; sleds, saucers, a toboggan, and a snow-scooter, along with an unnamed patch of fiberglass with handle attached that requires precise body position and balance.

As a kid, growing up on that same property, my winter conveyances included a Flexible Flyer sled that included a couple of steel rails bridged by wooden slats to support a body.  The steel rails were connected at the front by a metal framework to which was fitted a wooden crossbar that articulated enough to provide some steering.  

Fast forward 65 years and I find myself, after consuming several glasses of a very nice Pinot Noir, hurtling down the same hill on a Hammerhead sled.  Constructed primarily of fiberglass this sled includes a sling of fabric netting to cushion the body.  It features four runners that remind me of short skis the front two of which somehow react to pressure on an aluminum crossbar and steers the unit.  These days it takes me concentrated balance to negotiate the snowbank that serves as a starting block and significant complaining from an arthritic hip while climbing aboard.  A very patient Ken steadies the sled and once I am in position enthusiastically aids in launching my run (as if any additional help was needed) as the sled dove in a nearly vertical trajectory down the face of the bank and sped along the well groomed course to the end of the run.  Shear terror was replaced with exhilaration and the run proved much too short and quickly I was climbing aboard the "lift" (a massive John Deer towing a trailer outfitted with four rows of bench seating and space for snow toys) and headed back to the top of the hill.  No, I did not opt for a second run...next year!

Journal - A New Beginning?

April 3, 2012
I will try, once again, to create a chronicle of my life in Maine...and anywhere else fate has in store.  It seems fitting that Easter-time is a fitting place to start since, for many of us, it commemorates a new beginning...the phenomenon of Christianity.  Also, the month of April heralds the emergence of the spring season.  Flowering buds burst forth displaying their colorful joy that the worst of winter has passed while exemplifying trust in that which is yet to come.  Daylight hours remain chilly, here, with a brisk wind.  However, the warmth of the sun is becoming more apparent encouraging me to venture outside without layers of insulative clothing.  Walks on the beach are a somewhat different matter...still calling for wind pants, jackets, and gloves (a few times I've even needed to wear a knitted hat...I hate wearing hats).


Yesterday's walk on Wells Beach was spattered with sunshine as gray-bottomed wind clouds scudded across the sky.  Then I spent time preparing church bulletins on the computer for my church's forthcoming Easter sunrise and Easter worship services.  The one for the Maundy Thursday service is done and copied, ready for distribution at Thursday evening's service.  The love my life, Ken, interrupted my efforts at 11:30 PM with a phone call that he had fallen asleep on the bus from Boston, where he works, missing the stop in Portsmouth (where his car was parked) and departed the bus in Dover.  He wanted to let me know that the next bus back to Portsmouth would be at 2:30 AM, and that he'd be late arriving home...so, guess who made a trip to the Dover bus terminal, then to the Portsmouth transportation center to deliver him to his car so that he could get some sleep before leaving for work, this morning, at 9 AM.  


My plans for today include starting to get my income tax forms completed, with a beach walk fitted in at some point. 

Monday, December 10, 2012
Spring, summer and autumn slipped by without attention to this blog.  Now that I have more time at my disposal future additions may become a more frequent reality.

The change of seasons spawned an active summer for the hospitality industry but with local activities slowing to a crawl tourists become involved elsewhere and, therefore, I join them.  The major reward has been the the successful effort expended on behalf of marriage equality in the state.  Maine became the first state in the Union to sanction  marriage of same-sex couples by the vote of the people.  Friend Larry came from Oregon to become involved while  Ken and I enthusiastic-ally joined the time consuming effort.  

December brought a change of pace, subtly, as we resumed our services serving 70-100 free meals, per week, to local area seniors alongside other Soup's On volunteers.  I also took on coordinator responsibilities for my church's Santa's Toybox community outreach program where the public is invited to "shop" for free donated children's toys, games, books and clothing to give as Christmas gifts.  Ken assisted in this project and we helped 40-50 area families prepare for a fuller Christmas than they otherwise would have.  

Today, I'm winding down.  The town's Christmas parade was held yesterday along State Route 1 that passes in front of the mobile home park's entrance drive thereby prohibiting access and egress.  I watched the parade, camera in hand, then walked 1-1/2 miles (round trip) for exercise.            

                           t)

Saturday, December 15, 2012
Pray for Newtown (Connecticut)...20 children and 6 adults killed, yesterday, when a grammar school was assaulted by a disturbed 20-year old gunman!!

How do the parents of those lost young sons and daughters start the day?  Without the excited clamor that accompanies the season of Christmas.  With hastily wrapped gifts lovingly hidden from prying eyes and inquisitive touches of exploring fingers.  Without the good morning hugs so impatiently pulled away from in favor of preparations for a new day.  How do they carry on...or do they.  

I try to place myself in their shoes, trying to experience which sources of comfort might be most effective.  I cannot quite get to that point, never having experienced the loss of a young child.  I can envision the experience of losing a young grand-niece or grand-nephew, but to translate that loss to a child of my own seems beyond my comprehension.  Would my faith sustain me?  Would that, along with my circle of caring family members, friends and acquaintances, lift me from what must be such a deep dark hole of despair?   Might communication with others who have experienced similar horrific trauma help?  I simply do not know, and all that I can do at this point is to lift my prayers for the well being of those parents.

But, I can join forces with those who will attempt to effect changes which will discourage, if not end, the continuance of similar atrocities.  According to respected sources, two basic elements need to be addressed...gun control, along with increased education and counseling related to mental instability.  

Relating to gun control, it seems plausible to agree that our congressional leaders so fear their loss of position due to the pressures of the National Rifle Association's deep campaign pockets that they will not seriously oppose the association's objections to the control of personal firearms.  In that case, would it not be a challenge to the general constituency to override that fear with the fear of congressional position loss at the hands of the electorate in succeeding Novembers?

As to mental health, can we not add our support to the need for greater awareness and funding where needed, be it with school programs, private clinics, or other appropriate areas as suggested by proven trusted sources?  

A Year in Commitment

On June 14, 2012, Ken & I celebrated a year of committed, monogamous, loving partnership.  We sort of pulled the date out of the air, trying to reconstruct our meeting and the subsequent date when he moved in and we commenced sharing all aspects of the relationship. 

Ken was looking for a room to rent, I had posted online the availability of a room in my mobile home seeking help with expenses as well as hoping for companionship.  After reviewing another respondant I offered Ken the room. We dated for five weeks before he moved in.  By that time we had concluded that our relationship was going to be more than landlord and tenant.  We committed our mutual fidelity and agreed to live together for a year, as long our feelings for one another remained strong, before taking further steps. 

Now, four months into our second year together, we continue to marvel at the strength of our feelings.  My family has fully embraced his presence in my life, but it is taking his family a while longer to accept our relationship.  Their religious background is deeply fundamental and while the younger members are more understanding the senior members seemingly cannot work their beliefs around the concept of two men lovingly sharing life. 

Sunday, April 22, 2012

Much needed rain is falling across the state.  I look out the office window and observe an extremely quiet North Atlantic sea.  The waves aren't high enough to interest any of the surf-riders, but the magnificence of its expanse and potential power remains awe-inspiring.

Having attended church, this morning, where my pitiful addition to the choir hopefully went unnoticed, I've spent the rest of the day at the Cutty Sark where I watch the phone and capture any reservations that I can, greet incoming guests, and look for ways to generally screw up the operation while becoming reoriented to the position following a four-plus month seasonal haitus.  It also gives me an opportunity to catch up on my e-mail and check out the news items on Yahoo's front page (the motel's computer guru is of the opinion that Google, along with a desktop and task bar full of icons, fouls the operation of the unit).  I expect that the excessive website surfing of our time-passing research and email checks are also implicating factors. We would probably all be better served to once again begin reading books.  Horrors! The brain stimulation would likely do us all in. 

Easter Sunday, 2012

A freshly brewed cup of Stonewall Kitchen Cranberry Orange tea and an afternoon nap has brightened the not-sunny day hoped for.  But it has been an uplifting day none-the-less.

My church's annual sunrise service commanded Ken's and my presence, as I had promised to make a public address system available so that this year we could actually hear our pastor as she led the service.  Last year's loan of a system was thwarted due to the lack of a power connection. We meet overlooking the Nubble Lighthouse that is located at the point of a peninsula jutting into the Gulf of Maine a couple of miles from our church. Power is not available there until mid-April.  As my vehicle has a built-in power converter that provides a 110v. electrical outlet I offered its use.  My appeal for a PA system resulted in three responses, including one from Ken who brought a powerful system borrowed from his home church in Connecticut.  Therefore, we were setting it up this morning, at 5 AM.  The system performed flawlessly but unsettled weather brought clouds that obscured the sun and reduced attendance from a norm averaging 100 to half that.  Spirits, however, of those attending remained high.  Because the service, generally scheduled to conclude as the sun rises, was shorter than usual it was duplicated for the benefit of those who arrived closer to the time of sunrise even though evidence of the sun was not visible.  A full breakfast was provided immediately following at the church where heat, light, camaraderie and good food were abundantly available.  After breakfast Ken and I returned home and shortly he had to leave for work while I returned to church for choir rehearsal and the joyful Easter worship service that was well attended.

Thanksgiving 2011

A year ago I was in rehab following open-heart surgery.  Today I am revitalized, doing all the things I was doing prior to surgery...and more. 

It has been a year worth noting primarily due to a burgeoning loving gay relationship with Ken.  Six months ago he stepped into my life when he responded to an on-line ad I had posted for a roommate/tenant to occupy a vacant room in my home.  Though, for both of us, neither was not exactly what the other was looking for but there was a muted spark that quickly burst into flame with subsequent meetings.  I am 20 yars older than he...he is 50-pounds heavier than I, but we enjoy many commonalities.  We like spnding time with one another, whether it be shopping, dining, walking the beach, dissing the guys we see and/or with whom we come in contact, or simply cuddling at home.  He commutes to his job in Boston (1-1/2 hours each way) and I work 32-40 hours/week, so our time together is limited.  We both have stong family ties.  However, most of his family is reluctant to accept his homosexuality and so he savors the acceptance he finds within mine.  We have agreed to live together for a year before finalizing a decision as to whether a committed union is right for us.  Right now, it feels so right that the next six months may be difficult to maneuver without taking definitive action.  We are currently experiencing a fully committed lifestyle, having pledged fidelity to one another.  There are heavy discussions and decisions involving finances that we have yet to resolve.

So, this Thanksgiving, I am so thankful that Ken is a part of my life...and my cats agree!

About Me

I believe there is a cosmic being that directs all natural aspects of our world. This being is known by many names by many types of people. I choose to refer to it as God. There is a Spirit that emanates from and is a part of my God. It encompasses us individually creating a direct connection to the deity. And, over the ages there have been many teachers who have been perceived as "chosen ones" to individually educate, challenge, and guide us. My acquaintance and allegiance is with Jesus Christ and I try to follow his example as I work my way through the tenure of life. I have faith that good works carry the promise of benefits both now and beyond. I have hope that righteousness will persevere, and I feel love beyond what I many times demonstrate.

But, I am human. I give what I can and have desires that at times seem out of control. I am sensitive and try not to internalize criticism and rejection. I thrill at works of art and beautiful music, both historical and contemporary. I marvel at technology and what it can do to ease and entertain. Finally, I am a mental whore...always starved for physical satisfaction and getting little. I become ecstatic over the sight and feel of the male body along with representations of it through sculpture and photography. I so desire to love and be loved. Further, I am not ashamed of loving other men. I am comfortable in my own skin. Age is a state of mind and my "Fountain of Youth" is association with younger men...mentally and physically.

Mortality Surfacing

Shortly before Thanksgiving, 2010, my mortality reached up and slapped me in the face. It's amazing, even at my advanced age feeling good and taking the prescribed precautions, how complacent I've been regarding the facts of life...yes, all of them. "Sure, you're aging" you tell yourself, "but I'm active, in apparent good health, enjoying life and the people who surround me. There's no reason why I won't keep going for another 20-25 years...loving it!" Then WHAP!, I'm lying in a hospital bed marveling at the medical technology that has brought me through... not forgetting the prayers and best wishes of family and friends that helped me through the experience.

Within a span of 24 hours my optimism relating to longevity wavered. I was reminded that life here on earth, indeed, is not eternal. I was given pause to stop and evaluate the purpose for being given a further chance to continue on. There is really no way to discover the hidden reason in that longevity is primarily beyond our control. Individually, we can find or learn ways that may extend our tenure here, and such luck or education play an important part. Prayer is another extenuating factor...whether offered by ourselves or by those who surround us in life. But still, for what purpose am I still here? I was shown an immense outpouring of love and concern as a result of this incident and have expressed my determination to "pay it forward". I have also self vowed that I will continually pray for the strength and will power to live my life in such a manner that those who observe will recognize the basis for my faith and trust who is the triumvirate God.

Spirit of the Living God

Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me.
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me.
Melt me, mold me, fill me, use me.
Spirit of the living God, fall afresh on me.
-Daniel Iverson

This is a prayer hymn that I often sing. For me it is a reminder that constant renewal is a requirement during these days of turmoil. In order to be remade, I ask that the crust that has formed around my existence be broken and melted into a pliable mass.  This allows a new vessel to be formed...sculpted to reflect a new use.  I further ask that the new vessel be subsequently filled with faith, hope, and love. Finally I ask that my future life actions will make full use of that which the vessel is filled.

The Team

The setting is an ancient New England inn with history oozing from time gilded local oak timbers, interior decorated with rememberances of the past. A jovial bartender bustling preparations toward anticipated busier evening hours accompanied by occasional clinks of bottles and glassware. Tables being effiently set by competant waitsaff quietlybantering with the chef and barkeep. Owner/manager quick-stepping, double checking, firing off questions and instructions. Soft period lighting and the hearth ablaze with atmosphere adding warmth to the late autumn afternoon chill. At a semi-secluded corner table a party of four enjoy libation and muted coversation...a team of three for the other. One an organized philosophical study(the visiting friend), another an efficient working professional and housewife (the daughter), the third a champion for people with special needs (the sister).


A few weeks earlier, the other had disappointingly experienced an unusual lung-rasping shortness of breath during a routine beach walk. Subsequent trial walks produced similar results which he discussed with his cardiologist. A failed stress-test was followed by a cardio-catheterization that precpitated immediate open heart surgery complete with triple-bypass corrections. The team of three was called to action; not an orchestrated rehearsed selection of events but rather a collecton of individual cooperative acts that melded fragmenation into wholeness on behalf of the striken other. Personal plans were cast aside and expenditures of previously planned time were abandoned as the three rallied in mutual support. Now, with successful healing being nurtred, the other was seeking some demonstration of gratitude to the three in commensurate magnitude. Therefore, finding none of worthy stature or possibility he tries to convey his emotions - tackling the enormity of wrapping his need with phrases that can hardly be understood by those who have not personally experienced similar circumstances.

How does one attempt to compensate another for the magnitude of the gift given? What possible expression of gratitude can even begin to convey that which is so intesely personal? Is it even possible? Is it necessary? Does simple acceptance of that given convey enough to satisfy the spirit...the love represented? Or is a commitment to "pay it forward", to accept the torch that is passed in order to lighten the load of another in need, sufficient? Within the surrounding circumstances, the other seems to be left with no option than the latter and has accepted all that has been given with thanksgiving and resolve.

Life Changes

As days grow shorter and the temperature struggles to maintain warmth the beach loses its attraction to many. Therefore, the dive in occupancy has driven the owners of the motel to the decision to once again close until spring. Not wishing to go through another off-season on unemployment I checked Craigslist on-line job postings where I found an opportunity posted by the Beachmere Inn, in Ogunquit, for a year-'round "Front Desk Clerk/Night Auditor" position. With some trepidation I indicated my interest in the position, enclosing my resume. During a subsequent phone call from the Beachmere's Operation Manager an interview was scheduled, my references were checked, I was offered the position, and I accepted.

Training commenced immediately and that resulted in my working the early shift at the Cutty Sark, 8 AM - 2:30 PM, dashing home to change shirts and ingest dinner before my 4-10 PM (or later) shift at the Beachmere. After nearly 14 years at the Cutty Sark, being totally familiar with people, facilities and procedure, the transition to bottom rung of the ladder is indeed interesting and challenging but not unfamiliar. My decision to relocate to Maine from southern California, 15 years ago, required a similar transition from experienced corporate management to entry-level production work. I weathered that and I will make it through this change. Personal change is challenging, it revives interest in life and motivates one to keep moving on.

Gay Teens Suicide

The tragic deaths of gay young people taken at their own hands is terribly disturbing. The most recently publicized six who chose this way of escaping the hate and bullying of the homophobic public, families, and peers are only the most recent incidents of this nature that have been occurring for years, if not decades.


I have begun to wonder if there are local gay teens who are facing the daunting task of living lives true to themselves, and what resources might be available for them in our immediate area. Questioning a local gay advocate I am assured that there are many young people in that situation, but there is little evidence that significant steps are being taken within the school districts to address the issue. Organizations such as PFLAG, or GLSEN, offer help, but they are not located within our immediate area even though there are opportunities for assistance by phone. How much more beneficial it would be for kids to be able to relate face-to-face with concerned supporters and mentors is a question that is not easily answered. Would they, if they could?


The primary basis for alleviating homophobia - the root of this issue - would seem to be education. A successful proactive approach would destroy the misconceptions and fear that give birth to the destructive attitudes and acts of much of the general public. How to do this is a monumental question that unfortunately has no quick answer. But, our kids need immediate avenues to safety and assurance. So, it begins with a grass-roots effort by individuals and organizations to develop the means of help.


Where do we begin? Town/city boards, school districts, churches, fraternal organizations, and other duly organized local groups would seem to be logical starting points. Eventually, coalitions should be assembled that would be a repository for effort, direction, and results...simply to reduce duplication of effort. Perhaps each coalition encompassing an area of responsibility equal to each individual school district statewide.


How do we educate? We can provide information by whatever available means...newspapers, radio/TV, brochures, etc. We can hold forums and assemblies, and become an informing presence at local events. We can live openly, becoming positively involved within our communities and state with pride in who we are and for what we can give, showing others that our sexual orientation does not need to be the focal point of our existance.


Can I make a difference? Yes, I can. By becoming involved, by broadening my horizons beyond my own limited/limiting circle. By communicating with my friends and aquaintences, enlisting their support and involvement.


How soon? NOW!

I would welcome your comments and/or opinions.

Autumn Commences

Following this season's summer farewell when temperatures rose to 80-degrees in a final salute to the previous 12 weeks of sunshine and warm weather the continuation of temperate conditions hardly demarks the change of seasons. However, the first of the maples are starting to sport rosey foliage as we welcome autumn despite the lack of rain and cold nights.



I recently took the opportunity to attend a viewing of the movie, "Just Say Love". It is closely based on the play of the same name written by David Mauriello who lives in Ogunquit. He produced the film and was involved with the screenplay adaptation. The story centers on the relationship of two men, one who is a gay philosophic artist, the other a carpenter who identifies with the "straight" world. Beginning with a chance meeting in a public park the two develop a friendship, of sorts, wherein each feeds the other's needs for companionship and physical gratification. Over time, the completely reticent carpenter comes to realize that love takes precedence over sexual orientation while the artist learns that love is of a broader scope than his philosophical fantasy.



The movie is a well done graphical representaton of love unencumbered by gender. It suggests that the diversity of emotions and actions that define love is of greater expanse and power than many people acknowledge, or bother to identify.

Drama at the Beach

The day after hurricane Earl brushed the coast of Maine leaving little more, along the southern shore, than a spectacular sea. Surfers gloried in the huge well spaced breakers...at York Beach they looked liked ants on a cake frosting. The water, so I was told, was warm (for Maine) being close to 70-degrees enticing swimmers to interact with the surfers.



After work, I walked Wells Beach. The tide was advancing and shrinking the beach forcing bathers to move their blankets, chairs and toys above the high tide marks. It was becoming crowded in some areas and I found myself dodging tossed foot balls, walking around impromptu soccer and volley ball courts and being careful not to damage (or break an ankle avoiding) a miriad of sandcastles with generous protective moats. Rip tides have been a source of concern for the life guards for most of the summer and the storm stirred sea enhanced their ferocity. Portions of the beach, especially close to areas of submerged rock, have be cordoned off by the life guards during critical tide stages. As I turned at the jetty and headed back down the beach a lifeguard carrying one of their larger than surfboard floats charged into the surf on his way to either warn or rescue a surfer who was a little too far from shore. Continuing my walk, I noticed a person who was an alarming distance from shore who seemed to be trying to get back but was thwarted by the huge waves. Others started to notice this person as well and people were standing in groups keeping watch. There being no lifeguards in the area, it wasn't long before a couple of police officers rushed into the surf and tried to swim toward the apparently troubled person but could not get beyond the crashing breakers. Eventually, a lifeguard arrived with one of his "miracle" boards and expertly traversed the surf to where the person was floundering. Loading the person onto his board, the lifeguard started swimming parallel to the shore (I recently read that to escape a rip tide, one should do this until getting beyond the turbulance before heading for shore). At the moment when the lifequard reached the person in trouble applause broke out all along the beach and even though the rescued and rescuer were too far out to hear, it was like one huge sigh of relief and thanksgiving.