Bobservations

Carlos was talking about his former job working with the Hispanic community, the unhoused community, and the local schools to talk to kids about drugs and drinking and smoking.

Well, one day he and a few women on the staff went to a local middle school for an anti-drug program but before they got started there was a woman there selling faces creams for blotchy skin and under eye bags and tiny wrinkles and before you could, ‘Wait one damn minute,’ Carlos was slathered in creams and potions and lotions, none of which worked.

I asked him why he did it, and he said, wait for it, the ladies made him. Then I reminded him of that one word in the English language that might have saved him:

“No.”

“But you don’t know these women!”

Oh Carlos … and then he told me there was a picture of him covered in lotions and potions so I am on the hunt for that!

This Tuxedo Says is from August 2021:

"Once again Tuxedo has proven that, like his two Dads, he has zero fucks left to give to these anti-masker, anti-vaxxer loons."

And it wouldn’t be lost on Tuxedo to note that the MAGAts have no problem with ICEstapo masking up and murdering people and arresting children.

I forgot to mention that this month in my household is called Fuckuary as it is the month where my mother passed away February 17 2007; my Aunt Pam passed away February 14, 2009; my sister Jeri passed February 15, 2014; my father passed away February 1, 2024;  and while some of you may not count your pets as family, I do, and so ... The Great Tuxedo passed away February 15, 2023.

I don’t enjoy February Fuckuary.

A veritable who’s who of who’s that was the “celebrity” guest list for the premiere of Melanie’s “movie” at the Kennedy Center:

Daytime TV host has-been Dr. Phil; Dr. Mehmet Quack Oz; rapper Waka Flocka Flame; social media magician Pete Anthony Sciarrino III; Fox “News” host Maria Baritomo; Jordan Belfort, the serial fraudster. And then you have the people forced to show up lest Cankles go off like DUI hire Pete Hegseth; Second Lady Usha Vance’ Attorney General Pamela Jo  Bondi, FBI director Kash Patel; and heroin addict RFK Jr.

Sounds abysmal, doesn’t it?

I needed a palette cleanser after that last bit so here’s a photo of the flotation devices my neighbors have at their pool.

Keep in mind that the DOJ arrested journalists Don Lemon, Georgia Fort, Jamael Lydell Lundy and Trahern Jeen Crews; all people of color; all journalists covering a story.

Who has not been arrested by the DOJ are Jonathan Ross, who shot Nicole Good four times, once in the face, and ICEstapo agents Jesus Ochoa and Raymundo Gutierrez who shot Alex Pretti as he laid on the ground dying.

Down in Texas of all places Democrat Taylor Rehmet has flipped Texas Senate District 9 Blue, pulling off a major electoral upset in a district Cankles won by 17 points in 2024.

It’s coming … the Blue Wave!

Fox “News” host Bullshit Barbie AKA Kayleigh McEnany is pushing for Melanie to win an Academy Award for the documentary “Melanie: From Whore House to White House.”

In addition to seeing Melanie get an Oscar, McEnany claimed Melanie would outshine everyone in attendance at Hollywood’s most glamorous event:

“If she was to go, she would be the best dressed and the classiest dressed by a long shot.”

Bullshit, Barbie.

Damian Baugh  models for most of the top agencies when he isn’t foraging wild mushrooms for his mushroom business—seriously—and hoping to create his own fashion line, so with all that, Would You Hit It?

Happy New Year

I love a New Year.

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

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

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

I look back on the past years, remembering the good times, the tough times, the bad and sad times, because they are all a part of life. I still wake up every morning, look out the window to that spot beneath the trees and say Hello to Tuxedo and then whisper Goodnight at the end of the day; I still miss the Pocket Dog racing through the house like a small black blur; and I miss MaxGoldberg, heavy as a cinderblock, sleeping on me at night. I still wonder every Sunday if my Dad will call for our weekly chats, but when he doesn’t, I just talk to him myself.

And even while looking back, I also look forward to doing more, and learning more, thinking more, reading more, loving more, laughing more. These aren't resolutions, as I don't make resolutions because when I do, they last about as long as it takes me to say ‘resolution.’ These are promises and wishes, hopes and dreams, positive thoughts that 2026 will be a far better year for all of us, around the world, than 2025.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy. New Year.

xoxo

Bob, Carlos, Consuelo and Rosita.

Thank.Full.

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

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

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

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

I have so much to be thankful for again this year. Yes, the usual family and friends and health and happiness, blah blah blah, everyone says that …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trust. And be thankful.

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

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

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

I am thankful being ‘Dad’ to The Great tuxedo, MaxGoldberg, and Ozzo, for their entire lives, and for the joy they brought into our lives every single day. If you pay attention, you can really learn something about people from your pets, and not just unconditional love …

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

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

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

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

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.

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

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

Why Is It ...

… that when someone says they don’t like me, I instantly check my pay stub to see if it makes a difference.

… that my favorite childhood memory is when the bills didn’t have my name on them.

… that many people have told me that I have two faults: the first is that I don’t listen and the second is ... some other shiz they were rattling on about.

… that most people don’t realize that the worst thing about parallel parking is the witnesses.

… that when someone is rude to me in the grocery store and then they get behind me in line, I invite everyone behind them to go ahead of me; today I had the time.

… that I am not looking for a staycation but a maycation; I may come back, I may not.

… the people who think I’m too much need to go find less; I’m not running a clearance sale here.

… that while I get paid to be nice at work I don’t understand why my friends and family think they should get that shiz for free.

… that, while I am no chef, I can really stir the pot.

… that people often to say they're ‘happy as a clam’? A clam?? You mean those tiny things with no brain that chill on the bottom of the ocean all day in their own little private shells and have absolutely no concept of what’s going on in the … oh, nevermind, I get it now.

Why Is It ...

… that when someone asks, “Who got you smiling,” I always say, “The voices in my head just cracked a joke. Leave us alone.”

… that after this past year I wanna give myself a big hug because I’m still standing.

… that Family Dollar always seems to have just one cashier. Where’s the rest of the family?

… that winter doesn’t bother me; I also become cold and dark after 4PM.

… that one of the weirdest things about being an adult is having a favorite stove top burner; no one ever talks about it but y’all know it’s true and y’all have one.

… that it’s always, “How was work?” and never, “Quit and I’ll support you.”

… that I still miss that part of 2020 when it was illegal for anyone to come near me.

…that when I yell at birds in the street to move so they don’t get run over is kind of how I see the universe watching me live my life.

… that I know I would not waste away in Margaritaville; in fact, I would thrive!

Happy New Year

I love a New Year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy. New Year.

xoxo

Bob, Carlos, Consuelo and Rosita.

Thank.Full.

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

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

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

"Are you in the military?" he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trust. And be thankful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For Life … and all it encompasses.

To Life.

Thanks.

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

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

Bobservations

Carlos’ knee has been bothering him and he spoke to his doctor who said it sounds like arthritis. Well, Carlos loathes aging—though the alternative isn’t fun—and didn’t like that diagnosis, so he made an appointment with a Bone and Joint doctor here in Camden.

Last Friday we saw the doctor—and I’ll cut to the end here and say that doctor said it appears to be arthritis—and as we waited in the exam room, chatting, I looked across the room and saw this:

Two different shoes. Two.DIFFERENT.Shoes! Luckily, Carlos doesn’t take himself too seriously, and even showed off his new style to the doctor!

This Tuxedo Says is from May 2020 … still under lockdown:

“I have offered up Tuxedo's services to local agencies as the spokes-cat for the lockdown. So far no takers.”

I was trying to make a few coins from a pandemic, y’all!

As seen on Facebook:

I can’t wait for 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue to be added to the National Sex Offender Registry.

Aaaaaaaaand scene!

You know, at the end of the day, all you really need are some working-class cakes to relax with at home.

Part of the inheritance from my father’s estate arrived in South Carolina this week—that’s it up there—and I was happy to see it.

This Seth Thomas Mantle Clock was purchased by my mother and father on their honeymoon in 1955 … so it’s been in our family for nearly 70 years.

For a long while the clock didn’t work, though it would mysteriously chime every so often, but when I got my first job in high school, I decided to steal the clock from the house and have it fixed and then gift it back to the family on Christmas morning.

Luckily, no one missed it for the couple of weeks it was missing, and then on Christmas day, I got up early, wound the clock and set the time, and then when it went off at 7AM, and actually chimed the correct number, I told my family what I had done.

My Dad said then and there that the clock would be mine, and here it is.

Rosita is not a fan of the clock. After it arrived at the house I unpacked it and would it and set in on Carlos’ antique desk in the living room—our mantle is a wee bit too shallow for this clock—and every time it chimed that first day, Rosita would tear out of the room and disappear into the master bedroom closet.

For all her bravado, she a scared little Puddy Tat!

Ladies and Gentleladies, the first photo of the new First Family, featuring, right there, circled in red, the new First Lady “Elonia Musk.”

The nickname follows a flurry of palace intrigue around Musk’s, AKA Leon Skum’s, appearance in a “family photo” that featured the X owner but not once-and-future First Lady Melanie.

The “First Lady” moniker picked up steam as rumors swirled that Musk’s online nemesis author, Stephen King, trolled him on X with that new name, and Musk banned him from his rightwingnut hate platform.

So much for Elonia’s calls for Free Speech, eh?

Cooper Koch is an American actor, known for his portrayal of Erik Menendez and a certain nude scene, but this is more about Would You Hit It?

Why Is It ...

… that even though I often check myself, I tend to wreck myself?

… that I don’t have a “train” of thought but instead have seven trains on four tracks that narrowly avoid each other when their paths cross and all the conductors are screaming.

… that when I see the sign that says “Please See Cashier” I get right back into my car and find another gas station?

… when someone asks me what essential oils might best calm down my family, my mind instantly goes to chloroform?

… that when I invite people to my house for a party, they get upset that I really meant, ‘Come over and help me fold clothes’?

… that my boss hates when I bring a sort of ‘We should all quit’ vibe into the office?

… that whenever I see a Facebook ‘memories’ post of mine, I’m always wearing the same shirt … the one I have on right now?

… that there are days when coffee isn't enough, and I wish I could be struck by lightning?

Just Saying ... Not My Month

 We hate February in my family.

My mother passed away in February 17 2007.

My Aunt Pam passed away February 14, 2009.

My sister Jeri passed February 1,5 2014.

My father passed away February 1, 2024.

And while some of you may not count your pets as family, I do, and so ... Tuxedo passed away February 15, 2023.

February sucks.

I was home for a long weekend last week, and am back in Oregon for a few days and then will come home for a long stretch as probate does its thing. I don't know when I'll post anything other than gloomy stuff but I will be back with snark and politics and architecture and pop culture and fun as soon as I can.

Thanks!

Dad

My father passed away February 1^st at the age of 91. He passed quietly and peacefully, surrounded by family who laughed and told stories and reminisced about my dad ... and I will give you a few of my favorite Dad Tales …

When I came out to my family, my father’s first words to me were, “You’re my son and I love you.”

When I decided to move 3000 miles away from family because I’d met Carlos and knew that was where I belonged, he said “Be happy, I love you.”

And when he spoke his last words to me, the night before he passed, he said, “Take care of yourself, I love you.”

The day he died, other than waking up at midnight and asking the nurse if he was still alive, and saying “Oh shit: when she told him, “Yes,” my dad didn’t say another word to me; but that was all I needed. I love you.

My nieces, Ashley, and Betsy, were there, as was my sister-in-law, Debbie, and we sat with Dad and held his hands and told stories and laughed and cried, and after one particularly loud laugh session, we noticed his breathing had stopped and he was gone.

I will always believe he heard us laughing, and thought to himself that we were going to be fine, and he could leave.

Thanks Dad. I love you.

Back

What a week or so. My father called me on a Tuesday to say that his cardiac doctor needed to see him right away at the hospital in Corvallis so I found a flight, packed a bag, and was on my way at 4:30 AM EST  the next day. With time differences and such I arrived at my Dad’s house at 9 PM PST … a long day. At my Dad’s house he said we’d needed to leave for the hospital around 3 AM to see the doctor first thing; I found a minute to sleep and then off we went.

At the hospital there was confusion as to why my Dad was there and he kept saying that his doctor asked him to come in and talk about aortic valve replacement; my father suffered from COPD and heart issues affect the breath as well, so replacing the valve would be good for his breathing. Trouble was, the cardiac team felt that his age, he’s ninety-one, and the health of his heart, not good, might make surgery too risky so they suggested medications and oxygen and then uttered to phrase …

“That’ll give you about six months.”

I hate that phrase because no one actually knows; it could be 6 days or weeks or months or even a few years and I hate the end date-ness of it all. But my Dad and I talked about the surgery and the risks and he decided to take the Go Home route. I reminded him of my mother …

In 2006 my mother was diagnosed with lung cancer; she did chemo, twice, and then radiation, and in early 2007 she said, “No more.” She had been a nurse and knew what was coming and she opted to stop treatment and just let nature take its course. Family came to visit and in early February 2007, she passed away in her home with my dad, my sister and I by her side. I felt it very peaceful.

And I told my dad that, for me, if you could pass away in your own home, with family by your side, as well as his dog, that might be the way to go; that’s what I would want for myself … the last faces I see being those of loved ones and pets and not doctors and nurses.

And he thought for a while and decided that would be his choice. They kept him in the hospital because he wasn’t allowed to be released with the oxygen and between a wicked winter ice storm and frigid temperatures, and the MLK Day holiday, he wasn’t able to get home until the following Wednesday. The next day hospice came in and made plans to be at his house three days a week to start to check on him,  his meds and such, and then, when the time comes that he cannot take care of himself we switch to full-time hospice care.

He doesn’t like that, but he also doesn’t have a choice; neither my brother nor I can be there full-time, though Carlos and I will visit often, so he’ll need to adjust, and when the time gets close, we’ll fly out as quickly as possible like we did with mom.

And Ashley, one of my nieces, has suggested she go up and stay with my Dad for a while; she's working an online job and so she can work anywhere. And as she says my Dad is her favorite relative, and he feels the same about her, it sounds like a plan. We have been speaking for the last few days and talkin g about what needs to be done, and how stubborn my Dad can be and how she needs to approach that, but I think it will work out quite nicely.

All I want is a peaceful transition for my Dad; he’s stubborn as Hell, so who knows when that will happen, but when it does I will be there with Carlos and my brother to send him off.

It’s all you can do really.

So, I’m home and thankful to be here and thankful for the people in my life, for Carlos and his support and strength and listening ear, and in the internet world, for all of your thoughts and good vibes. I am not a man who prays but a positive thought is always welcome, and for that I am greatly appreciative.