Clunky sloppy blog.

I have been whining about my blog to a long time blog buddy. First off I have to blog with a smartphone, I find it frustrating most times. The rotten thing keeps changing my words and what I am trying to get across. Spell check is the worst part, most of the time I get the sense this phone wants to write it's own blog. The other thing is, it won't let me create paragraphs to get my point across. Every post from now on will be this one huge paragraph. I know this thing is eeevil, I know because if I take a selfie it makes me look about fifteen years older, now if you are a gay man or a woman, no more explanation is necessary. Hmmmm, lets try this ...........................................Reading over some of my posts from years ago, I can't believe I wrote some of those posts. I just don't have that insight any more. Many times I go to post and I feel that I no longer can get my thoughts out the way I used to. I guess it is an age thing..................................My blog buddy gave me the advice to write as if I were writing to a friend. I joked back that since he was probably the only one reading my blog, I "am" writing to a friend. I enjoy writing again, despite my battle with the not so smartphone, unfortunately I don't have the time most days. It's a little therapeutic and that is what it will be for me, my getting my thoughts out. I did get into the trap of wanting a lot of followers the last time, even though I vowed not to, this time will be different (I hope). I will keep it as a gay blog, some days I want to blog about other things, but this was started as a coming out blog. It makes me happy however when I realise that I am no longer obsessed with the fact that I am a gay person, it's just a part of who I am................Sooo some time I may blog a lot and some time I may take a break, that is what happens when you get old and independent.

Christmas gift.

With mom's memory failing, I have no more Santa, so when people ask what I expect for Christmas, I joke about being on the naughty list, so no gift for me! It's important for my mom to go to mass Christmas eve, to be honest I feel like I would be missing something if I didn't as well, so I enjoy taking her. It's a typical country village church, small, white and the people there descended from the original settlers. This year one of our neighbor's sons came home..... with his boyfriend (gasp). I was interested to see how they would be received. At the end of mass, I watched expectantly for the cool stares, the awkward handshakes and the famous "pretend not to notice them" as people quickly brush past. However what I saw were people being excited to see a returned friend and then also offering a warm welcome to someone who was important to that friend. I stood in silence as these hockey playing farm boys gave a welcoming hug to their friend's boyfriend. HIS BOYFRIEND! This was not how things played out in my mind. I could tell it was awkward for them, but awkward in that the hug was their way of saying, I support these guys, letting others see their support. Sometimes it's hard for straight guys to show emotions but when they stand up for friends, they make their point clear. It was uplifting. In that instant I was a little overwhelmed because I knew this was my Christmas gift, and I couldn't ask for better.

Ghost of Christmas past.

I hope anyone reading this had a good Christmas. To be honest I have not enjoyed Christmas for years now. It is the memories of past years that make me more lonesome than happy. I used to have the picture perfect Christmas, with decorations, baking, grandma's house, cousins on the skating rink, the whole nine yards. Time, time was my grinch that stole my Christmas. Most of my family is gone now, making it hard for new memories to compete. This year however I had a slight spark of that Christmas spirit back. Even though it rained, even though the wind damaged the roof, even though the water pump broke and the battery to start the snow plough died, even though the winter wonderland looks like monster truck mudrun, I had a good Christmas.

You better watch out!

You better not pout you better not cry, we are being monitored. I live in the country and it often causes us to cross paths with nature. A few nights ago when I returned home from work, fresh fallen snow revealed a visitor. At first I assumed the tracks were from a stray dog, seeking treats from the house. The little pattern in the snow showed great interest to what was happening inside. Looking closer I realized it was the tracks of a small deer. My mother remarked that the tracks lead to the windows and we could see it must have watched her for some time. There was a simple explanation for this I said, it must have something to do with Santa Claus and he is watching to see if we go on the naughty or nice list. True story!

Welcome to mainstream t.v.

I am a little excited about a commercial I saw on tv today. It was for laundry detergent, not that laundry detergent excites me but the ad featured a clearly gay couple. I know some channels have had gay targeted commercials but they are usually specialty channels. I don't have cable or satellite tv, just the good old mainstream rabbit ears type channels. Today for the first time in a long time, we are represented on the tube. I can't say its the first time period, when I was in my twenties one store tried to be inclusive and ran a Christmas ad, it hinted at a gay couple buying a gift for one of the men's father. It was not overtly gay and yet there was a huge outcry from the public. Certain religious groups threatened to start a boycott of the store resulting in the ad being immediately pulled. I don't think that will happen in this day and age, I think it could even backfire on a group that would try to pull that stunt again. So welcome to mainstream media, where our relationship is treated like a straight relationship, because it is.... just like it!

Life, picture perfect.

The last two nights have been picture perfect, the blue light of a full moon shining on new fallen snow, very Christmas card like. The air so still, it almost feels like an angel is about to speak. Looking at the sky, it is just filled with stars and the cold crispness, gives them the illusion of twinkling. Certainly helps to put a person in the holiday spirit. Nature can create a beauty far beyond what we try to create, no amount of Christmas lights or tinsel can give me that same sense of awe that I felt starring at the sky. Yes, life can be harsh at times, but life is good and we should grab those "wow" moments when we get the chance. In my strange way of thinking, I almost feel it's our duty, so as to honor the people no longer here or unable to live in those moments.

Homo Bigoted

Lately I hear the word homophobic used a lot. I feel to the point of being over used or used in the wrong context. This doesn't help gay people, it may do harm. I remember the days of homophobia, I was even part of that hysteria. Guys especially were so afraid of being thought of as gay, that they would freak out if another guy tried to put a hand on their shoulder. Two guys would not even dare think of hugging. I am seeing something else working it's way into society, it needs to have a proper name. Like homo-bigotry or homo prejudice. These people are not afraid of gay people, they are not ignorant, they know the facts as we know them. Yet they hate us, they will swear they are trying to help us but you only have to hear the snearing tone in their voices to pick up the truth. They spend their time trying to silence us, trying to turn society back against us. Why, why devote your time to work against people trying to get rights that other groups enjoy. With all the agencies that need help, this is what they spend their time doing, attacking us. Tossing out the word homophobic no longer fits the description, it doesn't help. This new wave of hate needs to be called out for what it is, hatred and more specifically hatred against the gay community. I keep hearing they want us to be silent, like the good old days, sorry but we are not going back into the closest.