con-flu-ence: /ˈkɒnfluəns/ [kon-floo-uhns] -noun
1. a flowing together of two or more streams, rivers, or the like: the confluence of
the Missouri and Mississippi rivers.
2. their place of junction: St. Louis is at the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi
rivers.
3. a body of water formed by the flowing together of two or more streams, rivers, or the
like.
4. a coming together of people or things; concourse.
5. a crowd or throng; assemblage.
There is a small town at the very southern tip of Illinois, the confluence of the dark, muddy Mississippi and the pure, clear Ohio rivers. The town is called Cairo (pronounced Kay-row).
Cairo was once a thriving town, founded in 1837 as a perfect stop along the shipping routes of the Mississippi and Ohio rivers. It housed a U.S Customs House, one of only seven still in existence. During the Civil War, Cairo was a strategically important supply base and training center for the Union army. For several months General Ulysses S. Grant even had headquarters here. The town is surrounded by the most elaborate levee system in the United States. There is even a Congressional order that this town will never flood -- if flooding seems imminent, levees in towns south of Cairo must be blown, flooding those towns, rather than having Cairo be destroyed. Cairo seemed destined for prosperity.
But in the 1960's, the fate of the town took a swift turn. Cairo had a growing black population, though 100% of it's businesses were white owned. After the passing of the Civil Rights Act in 1964, the majority of white business owners refused to serve blacks. Those businesses that did follow the law and served blacks found their businesses quickly failing, as white customers refused to frequent them. In 1969, amid violent race riots and the boycotting of many white owned businesses by local blacks, white business owners closed their doors and moved out of Cairo, choosing to relocate rather than serve blacks. One by one, homes and businesses were abandoned, left open, as-is, to age and decay.
Today, Cairo is a ghost town. Where the population was once twenty-three thousand strong, it now hovers at a sad twenty-five hundred. Driving through the town is surreal, like being on the set of a war movie, or sci-fi film where the townsfolk have mysteriously disappeared -- "The Town That Time Forgot." On Millionaire's Row, the ruins of beautiful Victorian mansions lay dormant, crumbling, trees the new inhabitants of their stately rooms. Entire neighborhoods of turn-of-the-century bungalows are mere shells of their original glory. Cairo's main street, about a mile long, once lined with bustling department stores, beauty shops, diners, and clothes emporiums is now deserted. Some of the structures are still in tact, though their facades and innards have crushed and crumbled. Most of the buildings have succumbed to age and neglect, having simply given up and died. One such building has toppled into the street, but rather than clean it up, the town has, instead, decided to just block the street. The town has sat dormant for the past forty years.
Today, Cairo's population is 63% black. The average salary is 16,220.00 per year, with 33.5% of residents living under the poverty level.
It is ironic to me that Cairo is known as the Confluence of America, when it's own history seems to be the antithesis of the definition of confluence. Here is a city that was built on the idea of merging, melding and growth. Yet it's history shows segregation, separation, and decay. Even the rivers seem to tell the past: the muddy, dark Mississippi -- blacks -- and the pure, clear Ohio -- whites -- merge, but the Mississippi never mixes or flows into the waters of the Ohio. Massive levees protect a town that, for all intents and purposes, no longer exists. A Congressional order preserves a way of life that has disappeared.
Ride through Cairo and you will find a town that is ripe for revitalization. Homes can be purchased for a fraction of the standard cost. Businesses still stand, ready to be re-discovered. This is the stereotypical small town America. The people are some of the nicest you will find. They are personable, and perkier than the setting would suggest. They are proud of their home, despite it's history. I received a tour of the town by a member of Cairo's City Council. He drove me around, giving me insights into the town's once illustrious past. We visited the town library, an enormous, gorgeous architectural specimen, with a spectacular history of it's own. We visited the Customs House, previously a Federal Courthouse, now the town's museum. An elderly gentleman giddily took me through the myriad of displays that told the story of this town. His eyes gleamed as he told stories of not only Cairo's history, but of his remembrance of better times.
I was grateful for the chance to experience the way of life that is Cairo. I was glad to be able to experience some of the town's history, rather than leave with the thought that this town was sad and forgotten. I was delighted by it's citizens and actually look forward to returning.
Cairo makes you appreciate your own city. It makes you understand how far we as a nation have come, yet how far we have to go with accepting each other and our differences.
Will Cairo ever prosper again? Will Cairo ever be able to save itself? One can only hope.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Tornado vs. Oak
There I talk of a Tornado in Atlanta tonight. I capitalize the word Tornado to give it respect. You see, a Tornado almost took my life once, but be it the will of the universe, sheer luck, or the tornado changing it's mind and rolling elsewhere, I was spared. I was three years old. My mother and I had just returned home from a shopping trip with my grandmother and cousin (actually, he was my uncle, but since there was only a year between us, I called him my cousin). It was a beautiful, amazingly sunny day in rural Manning, South Carolina. I still remember how blue the sky was that day. The air silent, and calm. I can remember being happy...
My grandmother dropped us off at our mobile home, which was on the edge of a long dirt road which led up to the house owned by the people we rented from. The mobile home was surrounded by enormous, hundred year old oak trees, trees that used to both intimidate, and shade me as I played beneath them. We went inside as my grandmother, with my cousin in tow, drove off down the dirt road. Almost immediately after closing the door, my mother noticed how windy it had gotten. Huge streams of breeze were gusting into our open windows, blowing items from their usual resting places on side tables, counter tops, and night stands. We could feel the wind physically moving us as we were stumbling around our home. My mother instructed me to help her close the open windows. I ran into my bedroom, climbed up on my bed and began cranking the window shut. As I was closing the window, suddenly I found myself hanging from the handle. A few quick jolts, and a slam. Chaos... noise... screaming. We had no idea what was happening. My mother stumbled to me, grabbed me and we began to run out of our home. Swinging open the front door, we prepared to bolt down the stairs. We stopped dead in our tracks. Our stairs were no longer there. Looking out we could see that they still sat where they always had, yet we were about 50 feet away from them. The Tornado had picked up our home and wrapped it around a tree while we were inside. If not for the protection of those intimidating oak trees, we may have flown farther, maybe flown to our deaths. Oak...capitalized.
Still unclear what was happening, my mother grabbed me and we leapt from the mobile home onto the ground and ran furiously towards my grandmothers car, still in the driveway. We could see the car was rocking side-to-side, literally balancing on two wheels one way, then slamming down and lifting onto the other two wheels. Still we kept running. We were being pelted by baseball sized hail, but still we ran, believing in the safety that lie in my grandmothers station wagon. We jumped in the car, still dazed, crying. My grandmother hit the gas and we sped towards the garage my father worked at, a mere mile or two away. I can still remember crying, screaming that I wanted my pillow and my Matchbox cars. It's funny what comforts children value...
We pulled into my fathers workplace. I can still remember the big grin on my father's face as he saw us pulling in to pay him an unexpected visit. My mother was incoherently screaming out the window the events that had just occurred. He tried to comprehend. When he had finally grasped what she was saying, he laughed it off, thinking it a joke. Where he stood, there was not a cloud in the sky, the ground was dry, and the air was still. It was not until we drove him to the debris of what was our home that he believed. There, surrounded by fallen, mighty Oaks was the rubble that we used to call home...
So you see, I owe my life to that Tornado, or maybe to the Oak. Did the Oak fight furiously to hold onto our home and our lives, while the Tornado fought and fought to take us as a souvenir of its journey through Manning? Was there a terrible battle, each vying for victory, for the lives that each held in its hands? Did the Oak win? Did the Tornado admit defeat, or just give up and move on? I'm not sure I'll ever know, but respect is given regardless.
Tornado. Oak. Thank you.
************************************************
The music that completes today's look is"Blow Wind Blow" by Alison Moyet.
My grandmother dropped us off at our mobile home, which was on the edge of a long dirt road which led up to the house owned by the people we rented from. The mobile home was surrounded by enormous, hundred year old oak trees, trees that used to both intimidate, and shade me as I played beneath them. We went inside as my grandmother, with my cousin in tow, drove off down the dirt road. Almost immediately after closing the door, my mother noticed how windy it had gotten. Huge streams of breeze were gusting into our open windows, blowing items from their usual resting places on side tables, counter tops, and night stands. We could feel the wind physically moving us as we were stumbling around our home. My mother instructed me to help her close the open windows. I ran into my bedroom, climbed up on my bed and began cranking the window shut. As I was closing the window, suddenly I found myself hanging from the handle. A few quick jolts, and a slam. Chaos... noise... screaming. We had no idea what was happening. My mother stumbled to me, grabbed me and we began to run out of our home. Swinging open the front door, we prepared to bolt down the stairs. We stopped dead in our tracks. Our stairs were no longer there. Looking out we could see that they still sat where they always had, yet we were about 50 feet away from them. The Tornado had picked up our home and wrapped it around a tree while we were inside. If not for the protection of those intimidating oak trees, we may have flown farther, maybe flown to our deaths. Oak...capitalized.
Still unclear what was happening, my mother grabbed me and we leapt from the mobile home onto the ground and ran furiously towards my grandmothers car, still in the driveway. We could see the car was rocking side-to-side, literally balancing on two wheels one way, then slamming down and lifting onto the other two wheels. Still we kept running. We were being pelted by baseball sized hail, but still we ran, believing in the safety that lie in my grandmothers station wagon. We jumped in the car, still dazed, crying. My grandmother hit the gas and we sped towards the garage my father worked at, a mere mile or two away. I can still remember crying, screaming that I wanted my pillow and my Matchbox cars. It's funny what comforts children value...
We pulled into my fathers workplace. I can still remember the big grin on my father's face as he saw us pulling in to pay him an unexpected visit. My mother was incoherently screaming out the window the events that had just occurred. He tried to comprehend. When he had finally grasped what she was saying, he laughed it off, thinking it a joke. Where he stood, there was not a cloud in the sky, the ground was dry, and the air was still. It was not until we drove him to the debris of what was our home that he believed. There, surrounded by fallen, mighty Oaks was the rubble that we used to call home...
So you see, I owe my life to that Tornado, or maybe to the Oak. Did the Oak fight furiously to hold onto our home and our lives, while the Tornado fought and fought to take us as a souvenir of its journey through Manning? Was there a terrible battle, each vying for victory, for the lives that each held in its hands? Did the Oak win? Did the Tornado admit defeat, or just give up and move on? I'm not sure I'll ever know, but respect is given regardless.
Tornado. Oak. Thank you.
************************************************
The music that completes today's look is"Blow Wind Blow" by Alison Moyet.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Pussy?
Sometimes I think I'm a pussy. Whether it be innate cowardice, years of emotional baggage, prior whacks to my self-esteem, or just nature, I cannot bring myself to go up and introduce myself to someone that I am interested in. I see a person across a room, often staring or smiling at me, and I just can't make a move. For years I have carried secret crushes on people and have been unable to start a conversation.
Even as I write this -- and the inspiration for today's blog -- I am sitting in Starbucks pining away for two guys. One, I have wanted to meet for at least ten years. The other, a more recent crush -- only the past four months. I should go up and introduce myself, but can't. Pathetic, huh?
I always describe myself as shy. This makes those that know me absolutely guffaw, as I am known to be a very outgoing, open, entertaining person. But when it comes to that initial contact, I clam up. Once someone talks to me, I am completely open and can carry on a conversation with the best of them. But unless someone else approaches me first, it just won't happen. Probably explains my dating life -- or lack thereof...
So what is the root of this inability to approach others? I think it could be traced back to a multitude of hurts and disappointments in my life. Could it be the abandonment I felt when my father disappeared from my life at age three? Never having a male role model to teach me confidence, strength, and go-gettedness I'm sure took its toll. I certainly wish I could've had the confidence my father was known for. He was a tall, masculine, good looking man who, from everything I've heard, could have any woman he wanted -- and basically did...
Could my apprehension come from the sexual abuse I suffered in my early teen years at the hands of a Catholic priest? Certainly my trust issues stem from the abuse -- hard to be a gay man when you have trouble trusting men. Certainly my ego was bruised, and my sense of self was destroyed during the years of secrets and hiding in the aftermath...
I wonder if it could be due to the basic insecurity I felt as a closeted gay boy in high school in a small South Carolina town. Unable to ever approach anyone for fear of being ridiculed, ostracized, outed or beaten, I lived a lonely existence in high school, almost reclusive, with only a few good friends. This pattern has extended into my adult life, as I have rarely had more than a few close knit friends, not wanting to cast the net of trust too wide.
It could be the hurt I've experienced at the hands of past boyfriends who decided, for one reason or another, that just having me was not enough and strayed into the arms of other men. This has certainly made me wary of relationships and, of course, only adds to the caution I give before extending trust.
Clearly I have good reason for not putting myself out there. But why can't I get over it? Friends say, "What's the worst thing that could happen? That someone rejects you?" Ummm...yeah. That's a pretty significant result in my book. Some people can let rejection roll off of them. My skin is too thin. Rejection seeps in and stirs around my body and mind, staying around a bit too long before rolling off.
So, what do I do? Just wait for other people to approach me? Do I try and go outside of my comfort zone and take the chance on acceptance/rejection? Could it be that easy, to let go of all of the past baggage and just allow myself to move forward? It sounds good in theory, but the reality is much more difficult. Maybe I should make a silent vow to approach the next guy that I find attractive... Maybe I should think of it as a work in progress and continue to work on the issues that have lingered from my past. Maybe I should accept that this is just a part of me and accept myself as I am, unable to make the initial reach out to another man...
UPDATE: Apparently writing this blog entry has been cathartic in some way. While I was writing, a very cute man walked by the window at Starbucks, headed to the gym. We exchanged glances. I've seen him before and wanted to say hello, but, well... So, I look up a few minutes ago and he was in Starbucks. Again we exchanged glances. He got his drink and sat not too far from me. After quite a few more glances and some smiles, I decided to myself, "You know what? You cannot let this happen again and let this one get away without even speaking." So I did. I struck up a conversation, and we chatted for a while until Starbucks closed. Walking out to our cars I asked if he'd like to go out. He said "Yes." I got his number and am, at this moment, on cloud nine.
Maybe all I needed was to challenge myself to break an old pattern. Time will tell. Looks like I'm off to a good start!
******************************************
The music that completes today's look is "I Remember You" by Eurythmics.
Even as I write this -- and the inspiration for today's blog -- I am sitting in Starbucks pining away for two guys. One, I have wanted to meet for at least ten years. The other, a more recent crush -- only the past four months. I should go up and introduce myself, but can't. Pathetic, huh?
I always describe myself as shy. This makes those that know me absolutely guffaw, as I am known to be a very outgoing, open, entertaining person. But when it comes to that initial contact, I clam up. Once someone talks to me, I am completely open and can carry on a conversation with the best of them. But unless someone else approaches me first, it just won't happen. Probably explains my dating life -- or lack thereof...
So what is the root of this inability to approach others? I think it could be traced back to a multitude of hurts and disappointments in my life. Could it be the abandonment I felt when my father disappeared from my life at age three? Never having a male role model to teach me confidence, strength, and go-gettedness I'm sure took its toll. I certainly wish I could've had the confidence my father was known for. He was a tall, masculine, good looking man who, from everything I've heard, could have any woman he wanted -- and basically did...
Could my apprehension come from the sexual abuse I suffered in my early teen years at the hands of a Catholic priest? Certainly my trust issues stem from the abuse -- hard to be a gay man when you have trouble trusting men. Certainly my ego was bruised, and my sense of self was destroyed during the years of secrets and hiding in the aftermath...
I wonder if it could be due to the basic insecurity I felt as a closeted gay boy in high school in a small South Carolina town. Unable to ever approach anyone for fear of being ridiculed, ostracized, outed or beaten, I lived a lonely existence in high school, almost reclusive, with only a few good friends. This pattern has extended into my adult life, as I have rarely had more than a few close knit friends, not wanting to cast the net of trust too wide.
It could be the hurt I've experienced at the hands of past boyfriends who decided, for one reason or another, that just having me was not enough and strayed into the arms of other men. This has certainly made me wary of relationships and, of course, only adds to the caution I give before extending trust.
Clearly I have good reason for not putting myself out there. But why can't I get over it? Friends say, "What's the worst thing that could happen? That someone rejects you?" Ummm...yeah. That's a pretty significant result in my book. Some people can let rejection roll off of them. My skin is too thin. Rejection seeps in and stirs around my body and mind, staying around a bit too long before rolling off.
So, what do I do? Just wait for other people to approach me? Do I try and go outside of my comfort zone and take the chance on acceptance/rejection? Could it be that easy, to let go of all of the past baggage and just allow myself to move forward? It sounds good in theory, but the reality is much more difficult. Maybe I should make a silent vow to approach the next guy that I find attractive... Maybe I should think of it as a work in progress and continue to work on the issues that have lingered from my past. Maybe I should accept that this is just a part of me and accept myself as I am, unable to make the initial reach out to another man...
UPDATE: Apparently writing this blog entry has been cathartic in some way. While I was writing, a very cute man walked by the window at Starbucks, headed to the gym. We exchanged glances. I've seen him before and wanted to say hello, but, well... So, I look up a few minutes ago and he was in Starbucks. Again we exchanged glances. He got his drink and sat not too far from me. After quite a few more glances and some smiles, I decided to myself, "You know what? You cannot let this happen again and let this one get away without even speaking." So I did. I struck up a conversation, and we chatted for a while until Starbucks closed. Walking out to our cars I asked if he'd like to go out. He said "Yes." I got his number and am, at this moment, on cloud nine.
Maybe all I needed was to challenge myself to break an old pattern. Time will tell. Looks like I'm off to a good start!
******************************************
The music that completes today's look is "I Remember You" by Eurythmics.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
An Early Letter to Santa
I just returned from seeing a movie at the theater at Atlantic Station, here in Atlanta. Pulling into Atlantic Station, I noticed Christmas lights in all of the trees, red and white lighted snowflakes draped delicately across each street...
These holiday decorations were not here last weekend, so I became perplexed. It's too early for "Christmas in July." Were they filming a holiday movie here? I briefly pondered over other possible reasons. Then, without my knowing, my mind just drifted and accepted the fact that the decorations were there. I found myself smiling at the beauty of the lights, backed by the Atlanta skyline, the full moon -- the one that's been looming around for the past few days -- hanging in the crisp night sky. It was like Christmas all over again...
I came home after the movie, checked my email, and logged into Facebook. I had received one of the myriad of questionnaires that get sent out by friends. This one was titled "My Personal Bucket List," a random list of things to do and places to visit. You are supposed to check the ones that pertain to you, and forward it on to other friends. Reading the list made me think of things that I've done and things that I want to do. It made me think about what I want to eventually come my way. It made me think about love, and what I am missing in that area. So, I thought it might be time to write an early letter to Santa.
"Dear Santa,
So much has happened in the last few years. I have been lost, afraid, endeared, lonely, alone, ecstatic, content, independent, elated and reborn. I have run a gamut of experiences and emotions, and am ready to find my center, find my happiness, find myself, and find my soulmate. I am actively working on the first three and am making great strides, but it is the last one Santa that I need your help with. I have always said that I think that people do not find what they truly want in a relationship because they do not know what they want. They do not allow themselves to think about what they want, accept what they want, and voice what they want. So, I am taking that step to say what it is that I want and am hoping to find in a mate...
I want someone who loves me. Truly, unconditionally, and wholeheartedly, loves me. But this love does not overshadow our own selves. We come together as two separate, happy, well adjusted, whole people, who form a life together, but never lose who we are as individuals.
I want someone who wants to see me every minute of the day, but is able to function without me -- goes to work, to the gym, hangs with friends, spends time alone, betters himself, but then comes home to me. I want this man to want the same for me.
I want someone who laughs at my stories and jokes, and never gets tired of listening to me talk, even if they've heard the story before.
I want to be heard.
I want someone to hold me, just because. To hold my hand while we're watching TV, kiss my belly button, and caress my skin. I want to catch him looking deep into my eyes in a way that I know that he is looking only at me. I want him to kiss me in public, and to be happy enough that he is with me that he wants the world to know it.
I want someone who can just chill at home, watching TV, cooking a meal, talking to each other, or just being quiet together. He should be able to dress up for a night on the town, or dress down for a casual weekend outdoors, housework, shopping, or...nothing.
I want someone who wants me...desires me. Someone who loves to look at and caress my body, imperfections and all. I want to be made to feel sexy...
I want someone to make me want to be a better person, someone who goes out of their way to treat others well, and lends a helping hand when there is a need. Someone who does things for the betterment of the world, without caring if anyone ever sees them doing it.
I want someone who never holds me back from attaining the goals that I have in life, wanting, instead, to share them with me.
I want someone who wants me to be me, whomever I decide that "me" should be.
He should want to meet my family and friends, and should accept that they are a part of my life, and share in the joy that they bring to me.
He should not play games, not have an over inflated ego, and should have a nice sense of humor. He should be honest and monogamous. He should be confident and accepting of himself, flaws and all. He should be himself and not camouflage any part of himself in the desire to hide things he might think others would judge or disapprove of. He should know who he is and what he wants out of life.
He should want to build a life for the two of us where love and warmth abound, where there is always room for both the collective "us" and the independent "us."
I want someone who wants me to love him.
And, I want someone who wants all of these things for himself.
I have a lot to offer someone Santa, as I'm sure you know. I am a good, kind, witty, romantic person, who is full of life and loves to make others smile. I am talented, and have defined goals and pursuits that I want to achieve. I just need your help, Santa, in putting these thoughts out to the universe, so that it can align the stars to help me meet my Mr. Right, whether it be be next week, next year, or even someone that I have already met.
I know you can do it, Santa. I have faith. I will work on making myself ready for Mr. Right when he comes. You just work on helping him to find me.
Thanks for your help.
Sincerely,
Me"
**********************************************
The music that completes today's look is "Say You Love Me" by Jennifer Holliday.
These holiday decorations were not here last weekend, so I became perplexed. It's too early for "Christmas in July." Were they filming a holiday movie here? I briefly pondered over other possible reasons. Then, without my knowing, my mind just drifted and accepted the fact that the decorations were there. I found myself smiling at the beauty of the lights, backed by the Atlanta skyline, the full moon -- the one that's been looming around for the past few days -- hanging in the crisp night sky. It was like Christmas all over again...
I came home after the movie, checked my email, and logged into Facebook. I had received one of the myriad of questionnaires that get sent out by friends. This one was titled "My Personal Bucket List," a random list of things to do and places to visit. You are supposed to check the ones that pertain to you, and forward it on to other friends. Reading the list made me think of things that I've done and things that I want to do. It made me think about what I want to eventually come my way. It made me think about love, and what I am missing in that area. So, I thought it might be time to write an early letter to Santa.
"Dear Santa,
So much has happened in the last few years. I have been lost, afraid, endeared, lonely, alone, ecstatic, content, independent, elated and reborn. I have run a gamut of experiences and emotions, and am ready to find my center, find my happiness, find myself, and find my soulmate. I am actively working on the first three and am making great strides, but it is the last one Santa that I need your help with. I have always said that I think that people do not find what they truly want in a relationship because they do not know what they want. They do not allow themselves to think about what they want, accept what they want, and voice what they want. So, I am taking that step to say what it is that I want and am hoping to find in a mate...
I want someone who loves me. Truly, unconditionally, and wholeheartedly, loves me. But this love does not overshadow our own selves. We come together as two separate, happy, well adjusted, whole people, who form a life together, but never lose who we are as individuals.
I want someone who wants to see me every minute of the day, but is able to function without me -- goes to work, to the gym, hangs with friends, spends time alone, betters himself, but then comes home to me. I want this man to want the same for me.
I want someone who laughs at my stories and jokes, and never gets tired of listening to me talk, even if they've heard the story before.
I want to be heard.
I want someone to hold me, just because. To hold my hand while we're watching TV, kiss my belly button, and caress my skin. I want to catch him looking deep into my eyes in a way that I know that he is looking only at me. I want him to kiss me in public, and to be happy enough that he is with me that he wants the world to know it.
I want someone who can just chill at home, watching TV, cooking a meal, talking to each other, or just being quiet together. He should be able to dress up for a night on the town, or dress down for a casual weekend outdoors, housework, shopping, or...nothing.
I want someone who wants me...desires me. Someone who loves to look at and caress my body, imperfections and all. I want to be made to feel sexy...
I want someone to make me want to be a better person, someone who goes out of their way to treat others well, and lends a helping hand when there is a need. Someone who does things for the betterment of the world, without caring if anyone ever sees them doing it.
I want someone who never holds me back from attaining the goals that I have in life, wanting, instead, to share them with me.
I want someone who wants me to be me, whomever I decide that "me" should be.
He should want to meet my family and friends, and should accept that they are a part of my life, and share in the joy that they bring to me.
He should not play games, not have an over inflated ego, and should have a nice sense of humor. He should be honest and monogamous. He should be confident and accepting of himself, flaws and all. He should be himself and not camouflage any part of himself in the desire to hide things he might think others would judge or disapprove of. He should know who he is and what he wants out of life.
He should want to build a life for the two of us where love and warmth abound, where there is always room for both the collective "us" and the independent "us."
I want someone who wants me to love him.
And, I want someone who wants all of these things for himself.
I have a lot to offer someone Santa, as I'm sure you know. I am a good, kind, witty, romantic person, who is full of life and loves to make others smile. I am talented, and have defined goals and pursuits that I want to achieve. I just need your help, Santa, in putting these thoughts out to the universe, so that it can align the stars to help me meet my Mr. Right, whether it be be next week, next year, or even someone that I have already met.
I know you can do it, Santa. I have faith. I will work on making myself ready for Mr. Right when he comes. You just work on helping him to find me.
Thanks for your help.
Sincerely,
Me"
**********************************************
The music that completes today's look is "Say You Love Me" by Jennifer Holliday.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Disconnected
I am exactly one and a half blocks from civilization.
I am in Iowa this week on business, and am working at a site that is far out into the country. Upon arriving at the site the first day I was shocked to find that my cellphone displayed an unusual message, "No Network Available." Surely I was misreading. Had I gone mad? Had my cell phone provider gone bankrupt? Was there a terrorist attack on the local cell phone tower? I mentioned this to one of the employees of the site and she asked what provider I had. I told her I had AT&T. She said, "Oh no. We're not sophisticated enough way out here to get a big company like that." What?!?
At first, there was the uneasiness: I wouldn't be able to get calls or texts during the day. "Okay, that's cool," I said to myself, "I'll be working all day anyway." Then I started to get a little worried, somewhat panicky. What if someone needed to get hold of me? What if I was having a bad day and needed to text my frustration to a friend? What if the call from that certain someone (you know who you are) didn't come through? I had to face the fact that for four days I would be be disconnected to the world as I know it.
The second morning, I was driving to the site, on a long country road, in the snow, texting away to the aforementioned certain someone. I had texted that I was probably going to lose my cellphone service soon, so if I suddenly didn't respond, that was why. I was amazed that I still had service the closer and closer I got. I was a mile away - still had it. Half a mile away - still texting successfully. Three blocks away - Yes! Could it be that yesterday was a fluke? Was the employee wrong? Then, a block and a half away from my destination, there it was -- "No Network Available." I was officially one and a half blocks from civilization...
This made me think about the dependence to technology to which I have gotten accustomed. Many times I have thought about how nice it would be to just move out to the country where you could be disconnected from the hustle, the bustle, and the bombardment of stimulation from television, the Internet, phones, and radio -- having the ability to take a deep breath and enjoy the silence. But now, here I was worried that I would not be connected to the outside world for eight hour periods, eight hours that I was, for all intents and purposes, going to be otherwise engaged. It's not like I was in a bubble. I was working side-by-side with human beings, several of whom were quite witty and kept me entertained. But here I was fretting about being disconnected from MY world. How did I get to this point..?
There was a time, just a few years ago in fact, that I did not even own a cellphone. I talked to friends only during times when I would be available to be home in order to call them and chat. Then I starting travelling for work, and felt the necessity to have a cellphone, mainly due to the exorbitant cost of calling long distance from a hotel phone. For the first year or so, I only used my phone to call home when I was out of town. Then, I would use it every occasionally when I was in town, calling home from the grocery store to see if I should buy anything specific for dinner. Slowly and steadily, without my being aware, I began using the cellphone more often, and more randomly. I got to a point where it was just part of my life. I even upgraded to a better phone, and signed up for a better plan when I renewed my cellphone service. I now take my phone most places and enjoy the convenience of being able to reach someone, or be reached, anytime that the mood strikes. The phone keeps me connected. I enjoy texting with friends, oftentimes due to the fact that I talk for eight hours a day at work, so being able to communicate to someone across town without having to talk is heaven.
So, where does this bring me? Well, I think this foray into "radio silence" has made me realize three things: 1) survival without a cellphone is possible. I won't shrivel away and disappear if I can't contact family and friends for a day; 2) I won't be forgotten. I needn't worry that I can't get -- or make -- a call or text from friends for a day. We'll talk later. They'll understand. Eight hours does not a friendship break; and 3) I need to work on spending more face-to-face time with friends. In a hectic, agenda filled life, it is so easy to stay connected through a cellphone. But that in-person connection is missing -- seeing a persons face react to your words, seeing their smile, their gestures, their eyes. Feeling their presence close to you. That is what keeps friendships and relationships strong and lasting. I am going to make and effort to meet my friends more often and to further the connection that we have. Of course, I'll need to call or text them to make plans. LOL!
Not having cell phone service this week made me realize the value of human connection. I hope to build greater connections with those I hold dear in my life. If anyone is interested in getting together, CALL ME!
**********************************************
The music that completes today's look is "Do You Have A Little Time" by Dido.
I am in Iowa this week on business, and am working at a site that is far out into the country. Upon arriving at the site the first day I was shocked to find that my cellphone displayed an unusual message, "No Network Available." Surely I was misreading. Had I gone mad? Had my cell phone provider gone bankrupt? Was there a terrorist attack on the local cell phone tower? I mentioned this to one of the employees of the site and she asked what provider I had. I told her I had AT&T. She said, "Oh no. We're not sophisticated enough way out here to get a big company like that." What?!?
At first, there was the uneasiness: I wouldn't be able to get calls or texts during the day. "Okay, that's cool," I said to myself, "I'll be working all day anyway." Then I started to get a little worried, somewhat panicky. What if someone needed to get hold of me? What if I was having a bad day and needed to text my frustration to a friend? What if the call from that certain someone (you know who you are) didn't come through? I had to face the fact that for four days I would be be disconnected to the world as I know it.
The second morning, I was driving to the site, on a long country road, in the snow, texting away to the aforementioned certain someone. I had texted that I was probably going to lose my cellphone service soon, so if I suddenly didn't respond, that was why. I was amazed that I still had service the closer and closer I got. I was a mile away - still had it. Half a mile away - still texting successfully. Three blocks away - Yes! Could it be that yesterday was a fluke? Was the employee wrong? Then, a block and a half away from my destination, there it was -- "No Network Available." I was officially one and a half blocks from civilization...
This made me think about the dependence to technology to which I have gotten accustomed. Many times I have thought about how nice it would be to just move out to the country where you could be disconnected from the hustle, the bustle, and the bombardment of stimulation from television, the Internet, phones, and radio -- having the ability to take a deep breath and enjoy the silence. But now, here I was worried that I would not be connected to the outside world for eight hour periods, eight hours that I was, for all intents and purposes, going to be otherwise engaged. It's not like I was in a bubble. I was working side-by-side with human beings, several of whom were quite witty and kept me entertained. But here I was fretting about being disconnected from MY world. How did I get to this point..?
There was a time, just a few years ago in fact, that I did not even own a cellphone. I talked to friends only during times when I would be available to be home in order to call them and chat. Then I starting travelling for work, and felt the necessity to have a cellphone, mainly due to the exorbitant cost of calling long distance from a hotel phone. For the first year or so, I only used my phone to call home when I was out of town. Then, I would use it every occasionally when I was in town, calling home from the grocery store to see if I should buy anything specific for dinner. Slowly and steadily, without my being aware, I began using the cellphone more often, and more randomly. I got to a point where it was just part of my life. I even upgraded to a better phone, and signed up for a better plan when I renewed my cellphone service. I now take my phone most places and enjoy the convenience of being able to reach someone, or be reached, anytime that the mood strikes. The phone keeps me connected. I enjoy texting with friends, oftentimes due to the fact that I talk for eight hours a day at work, so being able to communicate to someone across town without having to talk is heaven.
So, where does this bring me? Well, I think this foray into "radio silence" has made me realize three things: 1) survival without a cellphone is possible. I won't shrivel away and disappear if I can't contact family and friends for a day; 2) I won't be forgotten. I needn't worry that I can't get -- or make -- a call or text from friends for a day. We'll talk later. They'll understand. Eight hours does not a friendship break; and 3) I need to work on spending more face-to-face time with friends. In a hectic, agenda filled life, it is so easy to stay connected through a cellphone. But that in-person connection is missing -- seeing a persons face react to your words, seeing their smile, their gestures, their eyes. Feeling their presence close to you. That is what keeps friendships and relationships strong and lasting. I am going to make and effort to meet my friends more often and to further the connection that we have. Of course, I'll need to call or text them to make plans. LOL!
Not having cell phone service this week made me realize the value of human connection. I hope to build greater connections with those I hold dear in my life. If anyone is interested in getting together, CALL ME!
**********************************************
The music that completes today's look is "Do You Have A Little Time" by Dido.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Wondering...
I love watching first dates. Good ones. You see a couple across a coffeehouse, the thrill and anxiousness in their eyes, bated smiles, precise body language. One of them, arms crossed, guarded. They talk, they smile, joke, laugh, sometimes ineffectively. There's an uncomfortable pause or two, and the desperate attempt to try and reel each other back in...
Then, a slight move closer. Maybe a lean forward, one of them placing their chin in their palm, gazing a little more intently into each others eyes. The uncomfortable silences turn into quiet moments. Contented smiles...
Their feet slide closer under the table and "accidentally" touch, testing the waters. Conversation continues. "Accidentally" turns to deliberate, and their legs touch each other knowingly beneath the table. A blush...
At some point there'll be a bold move to touch the others hand, softly, ever so subtly at first. A finger caresses the top of a hand. Unrehearsed, hands are being held. The couple sinks into the moment, eyes fixed, drawing the other in. The corners of their mouth uncontrollably curve upwards. Promise lingers in the air...
Leaving the coffeehouse, there might a light touch to the small of the back. Perhaps a brush of the shoulder. Another blush...
I imagine the couple after leaving the coffeehouse. Later, perhaps, a kiss... a caress... a muffled desire to do more, but holding back. The lingering in a doorway, not wanting to say goodnight...
The drive home, alone. Calm, yet excited. Almost bursting. Waiting... hoping... for tomorrow's call. The promise of a second date. The anticipation of seeing each other again. Wondering...
******************************************
The music that completes today's look is "Unusual You" by Britney Spears.
Then, a slight move closer. Maybe a lean forward, one of them placing their chin in their palm, gazing a little more intently into each others eyes. The uncomfortable silences turn into quiet moments. Contented smiles...
Their feet slide closer under the table and "accidentally" touch, testing the waters. Conversation continues. "Accidentally" turns to deliberate, and their legs touch each other knowingly beneath the table. A blush...
At some point there'll be a bold move to touch the others hand, softly, ever so subtly at first. A finger caresses the top of a hand. Unrehearsed, hands are being held. The couple sinks into the moment, eyes fixed, drawing the other in. The corners of their mouth uncontrollably curve upwards. Promise lingers in the air...
Leaving the coffeehouse, there might a light touch to the small of the back. Perhaps a brush of the shoulder. Another blush...
I imagine the couple after leaving the coffeehouse. Later, perhaps, a kiss... a caress... a muffled desire to do more, but holding back. The lingering in a doorway, not wanting to say goodnight...
The drive home, alone. Calm, yet excited. Almost bursting. Waiting... hoping... for tomorrow's call. The promise of a second date. The anticipation of seeing each other again. Wondering...
******************************************
The music that completes today's look is "Unusual You" by Britney Spears.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Out of the Cocoon
I have never really had a lot of friends.
Due to various trust issues with past friends, lovers, and family, I have always chosen to have one or two really close, good friends. I have not previously strayed into the arena of having a large group of friends, never affording myself the luxury of opening myself up to the possibility of finding more than a few good people that could positively impact my life.
My ex of 12 years and I were in a virtual cocoon. We really became everything to each other. While in some respects that is good, it created a world where we relied on each other for laughter, entertainment, love and acceptance. It left no room for outside interests, opposing viewpoints, personal growth, or camaraderie from anyone other than each other. Of course, as the relationship began to unravel, the acceptance and self-esteem fell by the wayside, and there was no one to help recreate that self-image that I once had. When the relationship ended last year, I found that I had no idea who I was as a person. I didn't know the simplest things, like what hobbies I enjoyed. I has lost my sense of self. I had lost my self-esteem. I was missing the feeling that I was wanted. I also found myself without my best friend, and quite without but a few others.
Over the past few months I have been re-discovering myself and who I am as a person. I have opened myself up with a new credo of "I have to trust you unless you give me a reason not to." I have spent so much energy in the past consciously -- and unconsciously -- worrying about whether it was safe to open myself up and allow others to get to know me, to accept me, and to love me for me. Allowing that wall of unsurety to come down and just accept other people into my life has been an amazing growth experience.
I am a firm believer that everyone enters our lives for a reason. It can be something so simple as just to make us smile. Or it can be to stroke our ego. It can be to make us feel funny, or talented, intelligent, or sexy. It has amazed me lately how much new friends have changed my life and my perception of who I am. I have been lucky enough to meet some wonderful people...
I have a friend who could be my intellectual, emotional, verbal, and humor twin. Through this sameness I have come to appreciate how I appear to others. This has given me acceptance of myself and what I have to offer to those around me.
I have a friend that I can chat with for hours about everything and nothing. Through him I have learned to slow down in a moment and appreciate it for it's beauty.
Another friend has opened my eyes to a world of sexual acceptance and understanding. Through him I understand that I am a sexual being and that it is alright to accept the needs and wants that I have, and it is healthy to pursue them.
I have a friend that needs me. He has made me realize that I have something to offer to someone else that can help them heal and grow.
Yet another friend is the complete opposite of what I expect a gay man to be. It has broadened my thinking that being gay is so much more than sexuality. It is about just being yourself and allowing others to see who you really are and to not even think about who you are in the moment -- to just be.
And another new friend gives me positive feedback on my writing, showing me that my dream of being a writer might someday be more than just a dream.
There are others that have made just as significant an impact in my life. These new friends are -- without knowing it -- helping me to discover who I am as a person, outside the cocoon I was hiding in for the past decade. They are challenging me to become myself, accept myself, improve myself, and love myself. Through them I have been able to step out of my comfort zone and do things that I have simply dreamed of for my whole life. It is a far cry from where I was 6 months ago. I am not even close to the person that I assumed I am -- I am so much more. I can only imagine where the journey will take me as I cement the relationships I have now, and make new ones along the way.
Like the old song says, "You gotta have friends..." I have come to understand the value and truth in that statement. Luckily, I've got friends.
****************************************
The music that completes today's look is "A Thousand Beautiful Things" by Annie Lennox.
Due to various trust issues with past friends, lovers, and family, I have always chosen to have one or two really close, good friends. I have not previously strayed into the arena of having a large group of friends, never affording myself the luxury of opening myself up to the possibility of finding more than a few good people that could positively impact my life.
My ex of 12 years and I were in a virtual cocoon. We really became everything to each other. While in some respects that is good, it created a world where we relied on each other for laughter, entertainment, love and acceptance. It left no room for outside interests, opposing viewpoints, personal growth, or camaraderie from anyone other than each other. Of course, as the relationship began to unravel, the acceptance and self-esteem fell by the wayside, and there was no one to help recreate that self-image that I once had. When the relationship ended last year, I found that I had no idea who I was as a person. I didn't know the simplest things, like what hobbies I enjoyed. I has lost my sense of self. I had lost my self-esteem. I was missing the feeling that I was wanted. I also found myself without my best friend, and quite without but a few others.
Over the past few months I have been re-discovering myself and who I am as a person. I have opened myself up with a new credo of "I have to trust you unless you give me a reason not to." I have spent so much energy in the past consciously -- and unconsciously -- worrying about whether it was safe to open myself up and allow others to get to know me, to accept me, and to love me for me. Allowing that wall of unsurety to come down and just accept other people into my life has been an amazing growth experience.
I am a firm believer that everyone enters our lives for a reason. It can be something so simple as just to make us smile. Or it can be to stroke our ego. It can be to make us feel funny, or talented, intelligent, or sexy. It has amazed me lately how much new friends have changed my life and my perception of who I am. I have been lucky enough to meet some wonderful people...
I have a friend who could be my intellectual, emotional, verbal, and humor twin. Through this sameness I have come to appreciate how I appear to others. This has given me acceptance of myself and what I have to offer to those around me.
I have a friend that I can chat with for hours about everything and nothing. Through him I have learned to slow down in a moment and appreciate it for it's beauty.
Another friend has opened my eyes to a world of sexual acceptance and understanding. Through him I understand that I am a sexual being and that it is alright to accept the needs and wants that I have, and it is healthy to pursue them.
I have a friend that needs me. He has made me realize that I have something to offer to someone else that can help them heal and grow.
Yet another friend is the complete opposite of what I expect a gay man to be. It has broadened my thinking that being gay is so much more than sexuality. It is about just being yourself and allowing others to see who you really are and to not even think about who you are in the moment -- to just be.
And another new friend gives me positive feedback on my writing, showing me that my dream of being a writer might someday be more than just a dream.
There are others that have made just as significant an impact in my life. These new friends are -- without knowing it -- helping me to discover who I am as a person, outside the cocoon I was hiding in for the past decade. They are challenging me to become myself, accept myself, improve myself, and love myself. Through them I have been able to step out of my comfort zone and do things that I have simply dreamed of for my whole life. It is a far cry from where I was 6 months ago. I am not even close to the person that I assumed I am -- I am so much more. I can only imagine where the journey will take me as I cement the relationships I have now, and make new ones along the way.
Like the old song says, "You gotta have friends..." I have come to understand the value and truth in that statement. Luckily, I've got friends.
****************************************
The music that completes today's look is "A Thousand Beautiful Things" by Annie Lennox.
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