Mystery Box?

It was a dark and stormy night, (always wanted to write that) and the wind was howling outside, I was worried about the roof as it needs some repairs, it began raining heavily and I thought to myself that I had better check in the morning for leaks. The next day I had a bit of time to check in the attic before I had to leave for appointments. I have never been in the attic in my life, no one ever went up there except for my dad. One of the reasons being it doesn't have a true floor, one wrong step and you could bring down part of the ceiling. I get my ladder, flashlight, dust mask and crucifix (in case of vampires, ghosts or any of the general walking dead gang). Up I go and everything looked fine, uneventful, no leaks and not even a little bat to fulfil the stereotype of the creepy attic. The insulation covers most of the floor so I decided not to attempt walking around. I was pressed for time and slightly noticed a cardboard box off to the side. I had to go and closed the trap door and left for the day. ....................................... Later that night as I was falling asleep, a little voice in the back of my mind said "there's a box up there, sitting quietly out of reach, what could be inside". Since my family has been here for over a hundred years, anything from the past is more meaningful because it connects me to my ancestry. Sometimes my mother would throw away old books, tools etc, especially in the house. Naturally she wanted to leave her mark and maybe didn't always see the sentimental value of certain things. .................................... I grew more curious and tried to figure out a plan to retrieve that box. The next day I had the brilliant idea of using a long handle with a hook on the end. Back up I go, first checking that no blood thirsty fanged hairy creature was hiding behind the trap door, (because after all these years of waiting it would be really really hungry). I reach over excited because this is one place mom never got to, could it be old papers with writing from my grandparents, old deeds or maybe even old photos! I hook the box and..... and....... nothing. The Box is empty, there is nothing inside, all these years it has been sitting up there empty. This could be a post like a Seinfeld episode, a post about nothing but the truth is at some point there was something in that box, maybe it was just building materials when the house was being built, maybe there were important papers in it at one time and they were moved to a better location, I will never know. I decided to leave the box there because I feel it's still serving it's purpose, it is still keeping it's mystery.

Wagon Wheels and Gay Blogs

I was watching a program last week and it was about life in the early days, how everything was done by actual horse power, water power and lots of elbow grease. They were demonstrating the skills required to build a wagon wheel, one that would last and not act like the one floppy, squeaky wheel I manage to always get on my shopping cart. I was thinking about the way a master builder would feel when he realized that cars were taking over and wagons would soon be a thing of the past. I guess that's what happened to the gay blogs, ten years ago I think was the heyday for gay blogs. I guess times have changed enough in a positive way that the gay blog is no longer required. I should be happy about that but I do miss the community that was created by the need. It's so different now for people coming out, not that big of a deal anymore. I see the last group that is still active is the men who fall into the bisexual category. I have a lot of empathy for them, caught in between two worlds, many are struggling to figure out where they fit in. I see them looking for support the way I did years ago. I can't really offer them any advice, it's not my experience and seriously what do I know, I'm just a wagon wheel.

Milestones from Stepping Stones

The other day I was listening to the radio and one of the reporters was talking about an interview he did with gay comedian and actor Scott Thompson, it was regarding a show he was doing in Ottawa for pride week. Scott was saying how he now just does a routine and doesn't do his past gay characters. He said it's because in the past people were willing to accept the gay characters for a laugh but were not comfortable accepting a real gay person. He said now however people don't care about gay or straight and he no longer needs the safety net of a gay character to hide behind. He can just be himself, a gay comedian. The younger people don't see that shift, but it catches me every now and again, I like to pause and think about how far we have come. Sometimes I have to take a second, I think back to when I was a teenager and would just dream of a world where gay people could just be themselves one day. I'm seeing that happening now, it's hard not to wish I was younger to be part of this but maybe I wouldn't appreciate it as much. So here's to another shift in society, where we can just be we, because most people want it that way, awesome!

Decent People.

This weekend I was putting together a small photo album for mom, it helps keep her mind active and gives her a sense of familiarity as opposed to all the newness that surrounds her now. As I was choosing pictures, looking at all our photos taken over the years suddenly brought me to tears. So much has changed since those happy days of birthdays, Christmases, vacations, new puppy etc, etc. I can't help but feel anger over the hand life dealt my parents, I see the history of them together over the years in the photos and think about what a rotten ending they will have. My parents were never famous, they didn't become a mayor of a city, a star athlete or head of a corporation, but they were decent people. They did their best with what they had like many others. Very decent people, they followed a code in life to be honest, to work hard and pay their way. To not take advantage of others, to mind their own business, to be religious but never put their beliefs on others, to encourage us to be decent as well. Then what did they get, no retirement, no traveling, no growing old together becoming one of those cute couples people point out and joke about that being themselves one day. I miss them, even mom is not really mom, she is only a shadow or echo of mom, and not even that one day soon. Anger inside every day, every day and sadness too and a different kind of loneliness, one too complex to explain tonight. I can't believe it at times when I'm sitting here alone in their house, where are they, where are they, everything is waiting for them, they should be home. This weekend would be their wedding anniversary, they would sometimes go away for the weekend to listen to music at a festival. That's where they are, I will pretend that for tonight, they will come home tomorrow, everything will be fine again, that's what I will hold for tonight.

Mom.

One of my earliest memories is of me sitting on the kitchen floor playing with my toys. It is a large country kitchen and at the other end is a young woman sweeping the floor. I look at her and think to myself that it's mom, and as long as she is around I'm safe, that of all the people I know in my small world, she is the kindest to me. She looks over and says how about we move my toys so that she can finish sweeping the kitchen, it was a daily routine that she did after breakfast. The memory ends there, I'm not sure why that moment stuck in my little mind, I guess it was when I started to figure out who people were and how they related to me. Even years later I still felt that as long as mom was around, I would be safe in some way. ............................................ When I was still very young, I happened to watch an old black and white movie called "Body Snatchers", I was disturbed by one of the story lines, an alien took over the body of a boy's mother. She looked like his mother, sounded like his mother but it wasn't his mother and he just knew. It frightened me that a person I was so bonded to, could someday become someone else, but it was just a story, that couldn't happen or so I thought. Fast forward to today and I discovered it can happen, only it's called Alzheimer's disease and not some catchy Hollywood title. ........................................... This week that long gone young mother sweeping the floor could no longer keep her son safe, she could no longer keep herself safe and it was the boy's turn to keep his mom safe. One of the hardest things I had to do in my life was to place mom into the care of a seniors home. She didn't understand why she had to move there and became quite frightened. I know it was the right decision, everyone agreed it was the right decision, but some part of me feels that I have betrayed her. ............................................ It did not go well but luckily for me there was a nurse who has handled this situation many times and knew all the right things to say. Turning my back and walking out the door was numbing, I held it together until I got back home, when I entered the house I said out loud "goodbye mom" and then completely lost it. I was encouraged to stay away for a week to let mom become familiar with her new surroundings but I would call in the evening to ask the nurses how things were going. They told me one night that she was worried I would be stressed over this and hoped I was alright, even though many days she is confused about most things, somewhere locked deep inside, that mother is still trying to look out for her son.

Over the Olympic hill.

I don't know about you, but if I hear one more comment about an athlete being "over the hill" because they are turning thirty, I'm going to SCREAM! What does that make me? I'm just waiting for the day when some scientist will ask me what it was like watching the dinosaurs die off, ( I cried the whole time until I realized I no longer had to scoop that giant poop). I have reached the age where I fully understand the saying "youth is wasted on the young". ...................................... I have been watching some of the games, especially the men's swimming, I must confess I am very pleased that the guys are wearing swimming trunks again and not those full body suits. I personally find the trunks hotter on the guys than the old Speedos. The Americans have been dominating again and they are not too hard to look at either. I saw something that I found a bit amusing, I can see why some countries do so much better than others. The top countries walk out with these streamlined, in shape bodies, tall broad shoulder strutting six packs, while some others have flab and spill over their waistline, lol not judging but I wouldn't put any money down on such a swimmer. I heard in the old days they used to swim in the nude, actually I wouldn't want to see the return of that, guys extremely nervous, under pressure and swimming in a cold pool, I prefer my imagination to reality.

In The Wrong Club.

Some days do you ever feel like you belong to the wrong club or that life played a trick on you and placed you in the wrong environment. Like being born into a family of fishermen but you hate the ocean or raised on a ranch and are afraid of horses. Maybe you want to be a famous singer; however you have a fear of crowds. Me, I get squeamish quite easily, plus I'm gay, two things that don't go hand in hand, in an lol gay sex kind of way. Sometimes when I read people's dating profiles, I am commenting in my head things like "eww oh no, you want what" or "yeah that's never going to happen". I often wonder what is the "norm" for gay relationships now, I wonder if the people looking are a lot more "wild" than the every day kind of gay relationships. I can see being more open to things as I fall in love with someone who would hopefully be a life long partner, but I have no desire to go wild with a stranger. I wonder about this because of what my straight friends tell me, all the studies that come out these days about how couples are much more open about sex, they say "no, that's just fixed, it's less often and much more tame than it was in the beginning". I'm just hoping that when I find someone it will be often (8 or 9 times a week) I just don't want to have to present him with a list of "don'ts" and "really don't even think about it", that could be a relationship bummer. Yes, I'm just kidding about the 8 or 9 times a week, sort of.