I'm on Battery Power

The passing thunderstorm caused me to unplug my trusty computer. Is that for real? Can computers really fry themselves? Inquiring minds want to know. Drop me a line and tell me your horror story.

Big things happening in Washington! West Virginia Senator Drops Dead. Jeff Sessions Questions Elena Kagan's Experience! Salahis Sighted Near White House! It must be summer time in the city. Well of course - the Supreme Court's out of session, but not before assuring that every citizen has a right to a handgun. Richard Daley, you should be ashamed of yourself! Republicans are introducing legislation requiring hospitals to distribute a loaded handgun to each newborn when it leaves the hospital. U Betcha!

Speaking of Chicago, a bunch of gay square dancers will be there next week subverting the local citizenry at the Hilton Chicago Hotel. Grab your pets and your children. Watch out for gender benders. Don't drink the water. Of course, I'll be covering this event right here in this blog so that you don't have to go yourself. It's a public service that I take seriously.

Oh, I almost forgot. The Proposition 8 case has gone to the judge. It seems that the defenders of marriage aren't very good at defending "traditional" marriage; I'm guessing because they couldn't figure out exactly what they were defending. Their argument went something like this. Homosexual people should not get married to each other because they cannot procreate (not because Proposition 8 discriminates...). When asked by the judge about heterosexual people who can't have children, the defense backtracked quickly saying that heterosexual, but procreationally impaired people had a right to marry, because traditionally they had always had a right to marry. Hmmm sounds like the same thing to me. The case come down to the state putting the rights of a minority on the ballot and letting the voters decide that discrimination is okay. Should the state be allowed to arbitrarily remove basic constitutional rights of a large group of people because the voters think it's okay? It seems to me that the state should be promoting families rather than finding ways to weaken them. How would heterosexual couples feel if they were on the wrong side of this argument? Let me know. I'll publish your comments.

Well, that's the word from Wheaton. Tune is sometime soon for an update. I promise a pic or two from Chicago.

A Musing

I'm finally on a computer that doesn't have a worthless browser like the one on my BlackBerry. Not that I'm dissing the piece of crap that passes for software on my phone. I'm sitting in front of my Mom's computer cruising the Internet, and doing my darndest to remove all traces of my virtual journey across the web. The boys in Moscow are having none of it, and that's probably okay, considering that most of them travel rather than host.

I went out to The Barn today out in Uniontown, Washington. The Barn houses an eclectic group of artists' studios in many different mediums, plus it has the world's niftiest gift shop. My sister, Katherine, has a studio there, and she showed me her latest watercolor that will one day end up on a grateful wall of my home. I like her painting for its sense of place, and my connection to the place. I guess I'm a natural born humanist, or something like that. Currently, The Barn is hosting an exhibit from the Washington State University School of Architecture about the wooden grain elevators that dot the Palouse country. I grew up seeing grain elevators everywhere, but without any connection or knowledge about them. I liked the exhibit, and will quietly regret the demise of these prairie sentinels.

Tie Dye. Who knew that it's alive and well in Moscow, Idaho? Moscow has a tie-dye business (curiously called Tye-Dye Everything) and has had for ten years. I talked to one of the owners, and we're talking hardcore hippie. She and her husband lived in the woods in a recycled school bus. She's been making tie-dyed goods since 1989. The shop is overwhelming. There is nothing there that doesn't come out psychidelically enhanced. I was impressed. It reminded me of my dorm room at Theophilus Tower.

Office Pictures

Here's a peak at the de-cluttered office. It looks a little weird to my eyes.

Here's the earlier blog entry that has all the before pictures. The new look is a definite improvement. We want to sell (or give away) the computer desk.

A Little Resolve Around Here

Here's a preliminary list.

1. Okay, I intend to write in this blog more often. That is a threat!
2. I'm going to be slimmer in 2010. The love handles will still be there, just a tiny bit harder to grab onto.
3. I'm going to review C-1 square dance calls at least once a week. Tim will keep me honest.
4. I'm going to be as heartless about clutter as Ron is (I'm trembling, already).
5. I'm going to crack my Portuguese phrasebook.
6. I'm going less for sex and more for camaraderie this year (present blog readers excluded).
7. I'm going to get back to my civic software project.
8. I'm going to write at least one poem a month.
9. I'm going to write at least one short story, and share with my readers (both of you).
10. I'm going to visit the Smithsonian at least six times this coming year.

None of these are earth shattering, but are some little things I really want to do, which should improve the quality of my interior planet considerably. As I lay in bed this morning, reveling in this New Year, I felt so grateful and happy, so alive to this arbitrary moment of made up possibilities. It was a perfect morning for a new year.

Love Handle Example

The Office

Okay, The Office is about the personal miserable lives of employees at a paper company. I have a different tale. It's also about a lame life (mine), and although it doesn't take place at a paper company, paper plays a big role in the misery.

I finally got tired of the mess. Ron asked me what I wanted for Christmas, and I told him a visit from Clutterbusters. It didn't come to pass. Instead, he offered to help me clean up the office, so he and I have been tackling it, pile by pile for the past week. Progress has been slow but steady. Here are the BEFORE pics.

The mess has been growing since 1994, the last documented archaelogical dig that took place at this location. Lots of dust has accumulated, and some organic compounds have broken down over the years. Lots of computer technology crap has accreted over the years, much to my hidden shame.

Ron took on as his special project to tidy up the bookcase. The bookcase had turned into another lateral storage and retrieval area. Unfortunately, it was becoming a lot easier to store than to retrieve. I became quite frustrated with the office, and really haven't used it for a couple of years, and I was angry with myself for wasting valuable space in my home with an ugly mess.

We're not done yet, and we'll be sorting crap for a while, and storing "stuff" for a flea market sometime in the spring. But we are making tangible progress. Here is what that looks like so far:

The corner consisted of boxes of papers that I had not looked at for fifteen years. I threw out the papers and saved the photos, because a picture is worth a thousand words, or something like that.

This corner contained records of a group that no longer exists. I shredded hundreds of address and lists, and threw out all the paper, flyers, announcements, and detritus that collects in an office when you are its co-chair. It's gone!

So far, we've removed sixteen grocery sacks full of paper wasted and six garbage bags of computer disks, drag, radical faerie costuming, plastic bags, and evidence of a life that needed some organizing skills.

We aren't done yet, but we're making progress!

I Was on Vacation

I haven't written in here in a while. I'm still hanging around, just not always in Wheaton, Maryland. I've spent the last week in Idaho and Washington State. I'm sitting on the deck behind my friend Bob's house, thinking about life, and hanging out.

Bob and I go way back. We met in the Tri-Cities (Washington State) about 28 years ago. The intervening quarter of a century have taken us to very different places, but in the midst of a lot of change in both our lives, we've maintained a friendship. I think that both of us were afraid to lose the friendship, because it was rooted in some unique experiences in 1982 and 1983. Those years were full of new beginnings for both of us, and because we shared many of those experiences, we've felt connected over time and place.

I came back to the Northwest this past week for a family reunion and for a 40th year high-school class reunion. I had a wonderful time catching up with my brothers and sisters, and with classmates that I hadn't seen for forty years or so. I'm grateful for these opportunities, because I miss my roots, not only the mountains and the country, but I miss the people with whom I grew up. So it was very important to me to be here this last week.

The family reunion was a minor miracle, of sorts. My brother, Steve, called me last Monday and told me that he'd be here. I was so grateful that he could be with the rest of us. Lesley and he drove up here in their RV from Colorado Springs, and camped out north of Harvard. I picked Steve up on Thursday, and he stayed with my brother, Frank, and me at a guest house (the Peterson Barn) in Moscow. Wendy and Lesley were not able to be here, but I'm thankful that they graciously lent us their husbands for a few days. It was the first time since Dad died that all four of the Burlison kids were in the same place, and Michael and Katherine, Mom's kids were also with us, so it was a nice clan indeed. My sister, Grace, brought her daughter Lyn and her grandson Keshawn with her. It was the first time that Mom had seen her great-grandchild, and the first time Keshawn had met many of his great-aunts and -uncles.

We had a bench dedication in the arboretum. Frank had suggested late last year that the family place a bench in the arboretum to remember Dad. The bench is in a truly beautiful corner of the arboretum on the university campus, and is the first bench placed in the "old" arboretum. I hope that it gives a place for reflection for a tired faculty member or a confused student. It's facing a Giant Sequoia near the west end of the trees. While we were having the dedication, construction of a water line was going on. It was very loud and busy. We moved the gathering to the other end of the trees, which was much less noisy. Steve began with a prayer. Karen (Frank's former wife), Michael, and Frank spoke for the family. Keshawn read a letter from his Uncle Joe telling about his feeling for his grandpa. Aunt Virgie Lee, Uncle Harry, and Mom each said a few words, and Grace finished with a dedicatory prayer for the bench. It was very simple and very nice. Later, the family had a picnic at Mountain View Park at the edge of Moscow. Katherine did a bang-up job on the food! We all know how to eat.

Saturday, the family and some friends went out to breakfast at the Breakfast Club. Katherine has a regular breakfast group there, although we increased its size a bit. I was able to talk some with Cheryl and Bill, who are close friends of Kat. Beware, the servings at the BC are huge and good, so order wisely. After breakfast, Steve and I headed up to Potlatch for our class reunion. I enjoyed seeing many old friends (and being able to recognize most of them). I had a couple of nice conversations with old girlfriends, and meeting up with high school best friends was good. The connections are still there. The wife of the class president happens to be a teacher. She taught all of my kids. We talked about the intervening forty years, and all I can say, it's hard to believe that time has gone so quickly. Marta and her husband Mel both look good. I enjoyed the time with them.

I also had a chance to see my high school bud, Rick. He still looks and talks like Rick. He's still hunting, fishing, and ATVing, very much like we used to do. The most startling person there was Alvin. He looks exactly like he did in high school. It was pretty amazing. He's still as happily reserved as he was back then. I enjoyed talking with him.

Sunday, Grace and I went to have brunch with her childhood friend, Carolyn. Carolyn had been at the bench dedication in the arboretum, but she and Grace wanted to talk more. Carolyn's family and ours go way back together to 1946 or so. Grace and Carolyn have stayed in touch over the years, and both are at similar places in their lives. I think they are going to plan on doing some travel together. They would both enjoy that. It's funny, we all sit around and talk about getting old, never imagining that we'd make it out to here. Growing old is kind of awe-inspiring. Each succeeding day finally begins to add up. We've all mellowed.

Yesterday, Grace and family left Moscow, and so did I. I came over to Seattle to visit Bob, so here I am, typing this blog entry. I'll post it when I get back to Wheaton, because I haven't been able to find a working Internet connection on most of this trip! Oh well.

My Next Bright Idea

I'm in the midst of trying to create a web site manager for use with small groups. I've put pieces of it together on several different web sites, but I have never put a whole package together that would solve most of the management problems for a small, not-so-tech oriented group.

The impetus for all of this is my experience in working with small organizations. Most small organizations and boards lack the institutional memory and resources to remain effective over long periods of time. Each time the leadership changes, the new board starts from scratch and reinvents everything. Most records are kept in dusty boxes in board members' basements.

Also, in many organizations, members don't have good access to resources that their group might offer such as upcoming events, contact information, a directory of members, news, etc. So I've been working on a web-based application to do all that. And believe me, it's not been pretty.

So far, I've put together an authorization and contact module to track changes in a group's membership. My next task is to add a content module that will enable a group to build and maintain a website. The mechanics of doing all of this is relatively straightforward.

The challenge is to create a design that is simple for users, but also powerful. Many contact and content management programs are out there. Some of them are even free or open source. Most of them, though, are far too complex for a small organization to implement without significant technical help, and most small organizations would be hard pressed to maintain any such program.

So I'm continuing to work this. I'm trying to make something that a reasonably intelligent person who has some web experience could deploy. That's a very difficult task, because most developers, me included, assume that our users know far more than they do. But at least I know my goal: a simple software package that even my mother could deploy. I may not accomplish that, but it gives me something to aim for.

The Facebook Life

I have a Facebook page, along with 175 million other people with too much time on their hands. I suppose if Facebook weren't around, the national productivity would improve by approximately 350 million person-hours per day. This works out to about 84 billion work hours per year, which doesn't include any weekends or vacation. Of course, some people, myself included, would consider the time spent on Facebook as time well spent. Right, Joe K.? Joe's also on Facebook, and one of my many friends, although I don't have nearly as many friends as Joe, which is kind of weird, because I'm retired and have all this time on my hands, and Joe isn't because he's managing my assets. I'm dressing in black these days, because it's slimming, just like my assets.

Joe and I have a mutual friend, Michael, who has 670 "friends." (You'll need to sign in to Facebook to see this link.) I'm not being ironic or scornful, I just think that Michael, a college student at St. Olaf, probably has too much time on his hands, too. For some reason, he "friended" me and I was quite taken up by the mystery of it all. When I mentioned it to Joe, he knew exactly who I was talking about. I'm thinking, Michael is awful busy.

Facebook is addictive for a couple of reasons: 1) So many people are now on it, that you can make connections that would otherwise be impossible to make. Because you can see the friends of your friends on Facebook, you can begin building a friend network, trawling all of your friends. Also, you can suggest other friends for the friends you already have, and this helps your friends make connections, too. My high school class of 1969 is having its 40th year reunion (which is about when Joe K. was born). I've been trying to connect up with my classmates, and it's been a wonderful and sometimes heartbreaking experience. I think all of us have matured, unfortunately, not all of us have survived. 2) You can peer into your friends lives in a small way, by looking at their walls, and reading their statuses. In fact little bits of their lives appears on your home page. It's a painless way to keep in touch, and a little mysterious, too. So I'll continue to tinker on Facebook. You should, too. Right, Joe?

25 Random Things Since I last Blogged Here

No, I didn't disappear, I just couldn't get around to writing in my blog for a month or so. I apologize to my blog readers, everywhere. So here's the scoop:

1. I bought a walking stick. My knee has been a problem, so I went looking for a walking stick. REI carries a sleek one that doesn't make me look too much like an old geezer. It's adjustable, and it fits into my carry-on bag.

2. Because I was going on a sailing trip. Except that the walking stick looks like a gun, so I had to check the bag, anyway. But it was a very nice sailing trip with six other guys. Three of the guys were pretty experienced sailors. I pretended to cook. Actually, I made the food list and helped herd cats while shopping.

We sailed on a 40-ft monohull, the Wombat, and that's about as technical as I get. The captain would start talking about lanyard and halyard and mainsail, and I would hyperventilate. I had a small library with me, and I was working on those menus....

3. In the Caribbean. Ah, yes, this all took place in the Caribbean, more specifically, the British Virgin Islands. They use greenbacks there, too, but they only seem to go half as far. Markets in the BVIs are interesting places. The range of products is somewhat limited, but the prices are not. Near the moorings and anchorages, the markets cater to the sailors, and the products have a peculiar skew to them. More particularly, sailors apparently have a huge appetite for potato chips and alcoholic drinks.

One of the guys on the boat mixed rum punches every afternoon. It's a very civilized practice, and quite in keeping with local custom. His recipe is 1 part rum, 1 part tropical fruit juice, 1 part whiskey sour mix, a few drops of grenadine syrup for color, and a couple of dashes of bitters. Stir and serve over ice.

This is my second trip to the British Virgin Islands. This is a beautiful place, and well worth the visit, especially by sailboat. Check out the Baths and Gorda Peak on Virgin Gorda. Enjoy the beauty and the beach on Sandy Cay. Sail around the Dogs.

4. With a side visit to Puerto Rico. Before we found ourselves on Beef Island, we spent a long weekend in Puerto Rico. This was the first time that I had visited Puerto Rico, apart from spending many hours in the airport. We stayed at the Luquillo Sunrise Beach Inn. One of the guys, Lee, had lived in Puerto Rico, so he was our tour guide. He used to live near Fajardo, which is near Luquillo, so he knew the local area, and took us to all kinds of interesting places to eat.

Luquillo is outside San Juan, on Puerto Rico's northeast coast. The beach is very pretty, and we had a nice hotel. Every night, the local caballeros would ride their horses down the street in front of the hotel.

Lee took us to El Yunque Rain Forest and Las Cabezas de San Juan Nature Reserve. We also visited an unofficial nude beach, Playa Escondida, which is near the nature preserve. To get to the beach, park in the Seven Seas Beach parking lot, walk all the way to the west end of Seven Seas Beach, then walk north along the shore to Playa Colora, then cross the neck of land (there is a trail) separating Playa Colora from Playa Escondida. Public nudity is not permitted in Puerto Rico, so we were discreet (and respectful).

5. Sometimes conch tastes good. I once ate a conch fritter in Key West, and it seemed like a vastly overrated dish designed to separate tourists from their dollars. So when I saw conch on the menu in Puerto Rico (in a sandwich!), and on Tortola (in a fritter!), I was skeptical. The sandwich was outstanding. The conch was tender and tasty, just like my men. I think I had conch on three different occasions, and I was very pleased. It may be a tourist treat, but it's a tasty one.

6. Ron and I hosted a MGMC Potluck. Ho Boy! What a starry social gathering of Montgomery County's Gay A-List! About 30 guys showed up with dishes in hand. I made my famous Scalloped Potatoes. They were finished in approximately twenty-five minutes. I liked James's lemon pie, which he says consists of lemon juice, condensed milk, and Cool Whip^®. I googled the ingredients. Tim (the other Tim) stopped at Whole Foods and brought some potato salad and some vegan General Tso's Chicken. I slapped them in some serving dishes to avoid potluck shame. They were both tasty, too, because it's okay to cheat at potlucks, as long as you don't serve it in the store container.

I provided half-time entertainment when I caught my pants on the arm of the couch, then stumbled and took a gracefully 2-1/2 reverse turn dive into the corner landing behind the China dogs, and missing the glass table with the cloisonne fish. The gargoyle was also unharmed. I ended up with bruises all over my right arm. I did not break anything, and my dignity remained somewhat intact. The guys enjoyed the party (so did I!), nobody got hurt, and nobody went away hungry.

7. I visited my dermatologist. She saw my peeling, sunburned skin and tsked a bit. Can't say as I blame her. I had a good excuse. She froze three spots, an old one and two new ones. She has a certificate hanging in the examination room that says she attended a workshop in 1994. Should I ask her about that? She's African-American, and I'm always the only white guy in the waiting room, usually the only male, too. I think she's a great doc. She asks lots of questions, carefully explains treatment options, and she spends time with me. That's my kind of doctor! She's already cleared up a nasty skin infection that I had had for fifteen years, cleared up a skin rash, and now we're working on those actinic keratoses that appear in fair skinned men of a certain age. She's using Solaraze on it. So far, I haven't noticed any difference in my skin color (it reddens and dries out the skin). But I've been on it less than a week.

8. A guy in the mall tried to sell me drugs. (I think...) I had gone to the mall for a haircut, but my guy, Joe, couldn't see me for several hours, so I thought I go to Bubbles, and check it out. I got an appointment there if I could just wait fifteen or twenty minutes, so I did. I sat reading in a public area of the mall, and this guy walks up and starts chatting, (which is annoying if you are trying to read The Economist) commenting on my clothes, the time, asking me what I'm doing. He finally says something like, "I could get something for you, if you know what I mean." I replied, "No, I don't know what you mean." He smiled and walked off, turned on by his cell phone. Yep, right here in downtown Wheaton.

9. And I got a haircut. Mai Li cut my hair at Bubbles. The salon has an astonishingly awful web site. It loads slow and the Flash just doesn't do that much for me. Mai Li gave me an okay cut. I think, though, she was probably more interested in pushing product. It's more expensive than the Hair Cuttery, but not much. Okay, I'm cheap. And what kind of name is Hair Cuttery, anyway?

10. I bought some jeans. My old pair has a hole in the crotch and is extremely thin in the butt. I've had to wear underwear the last couple of weeks. I got a pair of Wranglers, "loose" fit. Cambodian Made. They are a little bigger cut than I like, but I'll get used to it. The old pair was regular fit, and I think that caused them to wear a little faster in the aforementioned places. I'm a big boy! While shopping for jeans, I also picked up some $9.99 shirts (at Target), Woody Woodpecker, Superman, and Iron Man. I'm now girded with protection.

11. I've been square dancing because cortisone works wonders. It took nearly two weeks for the cortisone to fully kick in, but it has. The knee pain is gone, so I've been square dancing. John Marshall, Ett McAtee, Bill Harrison, if they call C-1, I dance! Tim's been quizzing me on definitions. At Ett's on Monday, I nearly lost it completely. Some of the dancers blamed it on the full moon, but it certainly was some gothic (horrifying?) dancing! Quantum physics came into play when one of the dancers created an indeterminate wave-field while attempting to orient her spin to a head or a side wall. Observation of the experiment didn't help as she hovered between the two positions. The field finally collapsed and she found herself in the wrong position, in a much lower energy state. Quarks at work. It happened at the Cherry Hill Campground.

12. I've been keeping my boys happy, at least smiling. I missed my guys! I'm glad to be back. I was kind of horny, too, because it is possible to be in the middle of the Caribbean, in one of the world's most romantic places with six other gay guys, and remain somewhat frustrated and randy all at the same time. I think this is only a guy issue. So I was glad to see the boys, and I'm making up for anything that I missed.

13. You can't buy a brief-styled swimming suit in the mall. What is the world coming to? Evidently, straight guys are interested only in board shorts. I looked at Macy's Penneys, and Old Navy. The sales clerks clucked at me, and told me to come back when the seasonal clothing was in. Yah! Every direction, nothing but board shorts. Unflattering! Hey guys, what's up with this? I found some online, but it's definitely not the same shopping experience.

14. I predict that the California Supreme Court will uphold Proposition 8. Ron and I took a walk earlier this week. We have a regular path through the neighborhood. We were talking about California, and the Supremes. I'm betting they will uphold "the will of the people" because the court is elected, and the voters will kick them out of office. An elected judiciary is a dangerous, sometimes timid creature. Ron and I often have really important discussions on our walks. Here are some possible outcomes: The court could overturn Proposition 8, which I think is highly unlikely. It may, however, leave the 18,000 same-sex marriages in California intact. I think there's a good chance of that.

My own personal druthers is to have the state offer civil unions that must be performed by civil officers, then let anyone who wants to, get married by their priest or rabbi. The church should not be validating civil contracts between people who want to establish a domestic or civil relationship with each other. Get the church out of marriage.

15. Scalloped Potatoes. I can't help myself. These potatoes are good. These are not your usual scalloped potatoes.

7 T unsalted butter, divided
2 lb Golden Yukon potatoes, pared and sliced (1/8")
1 medium onion, sliced (1/8")
1 small green pepper, chopped
1/2 lb mushrooms, coarsely chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 c flour
2-1/2 c milk
1/2 lb Gruyere or sharp Cheddar cheese, grated
1/4 t cayenne pepper
1/2 t Louisiana hot sauce
salt and pepper, to taste
1/2 c chopped parsley (optional)

In a large, heavy skillet, melt 4 T butter over low heat. Add the onions, green pepper, mushrooms, and garlic, and cook over low heat until the vegetables are cooked down and soft, about a half hour. Stir the vegetables occasionally, while cooking.

While the vegetables are cooking, pare and slice the potatoes into a bowl of cold water. Drain and rinse the potatoes in a colander.

Butter a 13" x 9" pan with 1 T of the butter. Set the pan aside.

Stir the flour into the cooked vegetable mixture (keep the burner on low). Slowly stir in the milk, and bring to a boil over low heat. If you haven't already done so, you should grate the cheese, now....

While the sauce is cooking, arrange one-third of the sliced potatoes to cover the bottom of the prepared pan. Salt and pepper to taste. As soon as the sauce boils, stir in the grated cheese, and stir until all of the cheese is blended in. Stir in the cayenne pepper, hot sauce, and parsley. Remove the skillet from the burner.

Spread one-third of the cheese sauce over the potatoes. Layer one-half of the remaining potatoes, and salt and pepper them. Top with one-half of the remaining sauce. Top with the remaining potatoes and sauce.

Mix the bread crumbs and 2 T melted butter. Spread the bread crumbs on top of the potatoes. Bake in a 350° F oven for 45 minutes.

16. Why being condo treasurer is too much like work. Well, for one thing, I have to fill out spreadsheets and keep records. Then I have to pay taxes. I send out late fee notices. It goes on and on. If I pick up a few more gigs like this, I'm going back to the office.

17. I'm so gay. I grew a beard before I went to the Caribbean so that I could look like a pirate. When I came home, I went square dancing (with a bunch of gay guys), and they unanimously agreed that the beard should stay. One of the guys even told me that I looked hot. My profile on ManHunt has also been getting comments like, "Woof" and "Hey!". I'm going with the flow on this one.

18. I fell off the wagon, but the horse hasn't run over me yet. Cleaning the office has turned into a joke. I can't face that room. Tim suggested that I post a picture everyday on Facebook of the office, showing what progress I'm making in its cleaning. I may be reduced to that very soon. Stay tuned. This could turn very ugly very quickly. I'm thinking about it.

19. Three issues of the Economist remain pretty much unread. I'm rolling my eyes and wringing my hands. I'm so far behind. But I have to at least read this week's issue because it's the technology issue. All kinds of interesting stuff to read. I also like reading the obits.

20. This blog and every blog must be fed. I haven't written in here for nearly a month. I went on vacation, then I suffered blog fatigue. For those of you who wait breathlessly for each installment of my blog, I apologize. I hope that you haven't suffocated. The fact remains, I have to come up with something to say, and often I draw a total blank.

21. What are we going to do about Mexico? Ron and I watched a program on CNN about the drug war in Mexico. The United States should legalize drugs and regulate them in a way that effectively changes the government drug policy from one of criminal enforcement to one of public health. Legalizing drugs, although an imperfect fix, should have the same broad social effect as that of ending Prohibition. In the long run, we'll probably end up with more drug addiction, but possibly at a much lower cost to our society in terms of cost for police and prisons. The current "war" model keeps people out of treatment, and only enriches the cartels. It promotes a prison industry in the United States, and encourages gang wars in Mexico and other production and transit countries. It causes a huge human toll (over 8,000 murders in Mexico last year because of drugs). The best way to help Mexico's law enforcement in its drug war is for the US to end its drug war.

22. Computer envy. One of my friends (Brian J. you know who you are), has one of those teeny laptop computers. I get hard just thinking about his computer. Sleek, powerful, but small is really big when it comes to computers. I lust for it. Captain Rick on the sailboat also had a mini laptop (his was an Asus). In the meantime, maybe I'll forgo the swimsuit, and get myself a sexy computer, instead.

23. The Spanish Civil War and other light reading. I'm reading Antony Beevor's The Battle for Spain, The Spanish Civil War 1936 - 1939. It's a slow, depressing slog, not so much for the writing, but for the subject. The Nationalists appear to fascist monsters who engaged in a policy of wholesale terror and killing, and the Republicans who were so factionalized that their response to the Rising was fatally weakened. Each page of this book is depressing, but I'm trying to continue through it.

24. Convention Insanity. Less than a month from now, hundreds of gay square dancers will be in Washington, DC for DC Diamond Circulate. The age of procrastination is at an end. The convention is already raising contention on the national list serve. I'm guessing we're in for a lot of griping over the next four weeks.

25. Reconnecting with high school classmates. I've been making friends on Facebook. Many of my new friends are from Moscow High School, classes of 1968, and 1969. The class of '69's 40th reunion will be this August in Moscow. I plan on being there. I'm trying to drag my twin brother along, as well.

I'm Falling Apart

In a half hour, I leave for the Dr.'s office to have him do something about a sinus infection I've had since Portugal. I'm getting tired of it. My right knee hurts, and this is after Dr. Bernstein stuck a 2-inch needle full of cortisone into it on Friday. I'm the other dwarf, today = Grumpy. I hate being ill. I don't do well with it, because I usually don't slow down, and eventually, the creeping crud catches up with me, and that's what has happened, three days before I fly off to Puerto Rico.

Okay, enough of the complaining. I'm through with it. I've acquired an interest in Bear Codes over the weekend. I devised a decoder, then discovered some others out there. The decoders are not "canonical," (in the NBCS sense) and the results from them can be variable. Just like all the bears that I know. Oh, it takes a cave to make a cub! (I am not a bear.... (sounds plaintively similar to I'm not gay)) Here's the Turkish canonical version. Isn't that amazing!

It's pledge week at WAMU, and that ALWAYS ramps up my Seasonal Affective Disorder. I get terribly depressed listening to Diane Rehm cajole extra bucks out of the listeners. "We have 11 hundred dollars to go - three minutes to go!" Oh, yeah, I'll make my contribution before the week is over, but it won't make the voices go away! I despise these pledge weeks. They are just a little lower in the universal order than pond scum contaminated with mercury.

Twenty Five Random Things About Me

1. Harry Hay and John Burnside slept here. They actually slept in our bedroom during the gay March on Washington in 1993. Before the march, a friend of mine called me up and asked if Harry and John could stay with us, along with their minder, Stuart Timmons. My friend warned me that Harry could be a little irritable, and that John could be passive-aggressive. We had a memorable weekend, and my partner and I were honored to have them stay with us. Harry was a little irritable. He had no patience with people (like me) who wanted straight privilege and the gay "lifestyle." He also didn't particularly like lesbians with children. He urged me to wear pearls to work. In retrospect, I should have. John Burnside was a somewhat demanding queen, but fun to talk to about physics and life. Harry was into politics and sex - an excellent choice, and Stuart was into my partner. We had a wonderful weekend, and I got to dance with all the radical faeries on the mall, and had sex in front of the Museum of Natural History with one very hairy, somewhat smelly faerie from Tennessee. Life goes on.

2. I was the only person at a rail crossing in downstate Illinois to wave at Jimmy Carter when he was rolling through in 1976. He waved back at me. I also waved at Jerry Ford at the same rail crossing. He also waved back at me. Ultimately, Jerry got my vote, but thankfully, Jimmy won the election. I was a grad student attending Illinois State University in Normal, IL. Let's hear it for the Redbirds. It was a little weird. I was at a rail crossing just off campus. The crowds were further down the line in Bloomington. I had my own private moment with the candidates.

3. I was born in the only county in the United States that was created by an act of the United States Congress. I'm from Latah County, Idaho. It seems that the northern part of the county didn't like the long ride in a buggy to the county seat. Idaho's delegate in Congress, Willis Sweet, introduced legislation to separate the northern part of the county from the rest, and Latah County came into being. Latah is the dry split pea and lentil capital of the world. I grew up in Moscow, a small university town on a rolling prairie. It was a wonderful place to be a kid. My parents were college professors, and we lived in an old remodeled farmhouse at the (then) edge of town. The old house is still there, much smaller now, than I remember. We had a wood furnace and a woodlot, so I spent part of every summer that I was growing up in the woods, cutting wood for that damn furnace. I hated it. I was not big on physical labor then, and truth be known, not so keen about it now.

4. At any given social gathering, I can usually make a winning bet that I have more grandchildren than all of the other people present put together. Once upon a time, I was married to the neighbor girl just down the road. Although I loved her, and I think she loved me, it was a star-crossed match, but resulted in four children. All of them have provided progeny. I should have seventeen or eighteen grandkids before the end of 2009. They are all good Latter-day Saints, and I'm grateful that my former wife raised them to be good upright men and women. They are treasures, and I'm sure that all of those grandkids are treasures, too. My life is very different than theirs, but I love them dearly, and keep them in my heart.

5. My partner Ron and I have been together far longer than most married couples, but we can't get married. Harry Hay, I know that marriage isn't your gay issue, and it isn't necessarily mine. But this whole backlash against gay relationships is TRULY mean-spirited. Gay marriage is not a threat to marriage. DIVORCE is the threat to marriage DUH! I say that having been through divorce, and it is not pleasant. But if I had lived in a society that valued the happiness of all of its members, I might have married a guy to begin with. Now don't get me wrong, I don't regret marrying and having children, I love them all; I do regret the divorce. It seems to me that people should be free to forge meaningful relationships with other people, regardless of how those relationships fit in with religious doctrine. Furthermore, those relationships should be made by the state, not performed by religious groups as agents of the state. Churches performing acts of marriage really blurs the line between the recognition of the state and the blessings of the church. On the other hand, churches should be free to bless marriage in a manner that sanctifies that relationship for those being married.

6. I make bad, but potent, mixed drinks. A couple of years ago, I picked up a mixology book plus a cocktail shaker. What a potent combination. I'm not an alcoholic, but after 4:30 p.m., it's okay to mix a capairinha or a margarita. The nice thing about drinking at home is that I don't have to drive home, and it's certainly cheaper, and the drinks are stronger. What's not to like?

7. My favorite vegetable is the potato. Idaho is known for its Famous Potatoes. I am Mr. Potato Head's spiritual advisor. Do I have to say anything more about potatoes? I like them just about any way they can be fixed (including Ore-Ida's Tater Tots). My favorite salad is Potato Salad in initial caps. Potatoes, green onions, dill pickle, hard-boiled eggs, vinegar, oil, mustard, mayonnaise. Of course, if you add pickled beets and herring in sour cream, you get extra points. No kidding. I think potatoes are basically the perfect vegetable. I recently acquired a mandoline, and use it to slice and julienne potatoes so that I can fry them. You don't need a lot of grease, just an iron skillet, low-medium heat, salt and pepper, and patience. Mashed potatoes taste better with some garlic. Baked potatoes need sour cream. MacDonald's makes the best french fries. Scalloped potatoes are a great potluck pleaser. I worked on a potato farm in 1972, changing sprinkler pipe, near Ashton, Idaho. It was the summer before my mother died. I had broken up with my girl friend and had a crush on the farmer's son. George McGovern was running for President. I was moving sprinkler pipe in a potato field wondering what life would be like without my mom.

8. I have a twin brother (and lots of other siblings). I grew up a twin. He and I don't look a bit alike, but people always got us confused. He lives in Colorado. When we were in high school and college, we were very close. We've drifted apart, but we try to bridge the gulf of distance and religious belief that separates us. We love each other, but it's a difficult love to endure, sometimes. I've cried for him, because I'm afraid of losing him, and losing half of myself. I think he's afraid I'm going to hell, and he'll lose me, too. It's an uneasy brotherhood, but thankfully, both of us still try to make it work somehow. I have lots of other siblings: all told, two brothers, a step-brother, two step-sisters, and sister. Our family thinks it's close, and I guess perception is everything. I love them all. I worry about them. I wish, sometimes, that I didn't live 2000 or 3000 miles away.

9. I'm growing facial hair to match my religious avocation. When I grow up, I want to be a Pastafarian. Okay, I know, pirates and all that stuff. But it really makes sense, just as much sense as Christianity to Sikhs. To grasp a new faith, you need an open mind. Once you've found that faith, you need to close your mind, like a steel trap. That's why I'm a Pastafarian. Just open that mind of yours, and try it. You'll like it. Beer volcanoes....

10. I was at the organizing meeting for the activist group that began the fight for civil rights for gay citizens in Maryland. I think my efforts helped make a difference. I went to the meeting, because I had a crush on one of the other guys. Sexual opportunity is a great political organizing principle. In fact sexual opportunity is a great principle for just about any human endeavor, indeed, that's why we're all here. I never got in the guy's pants (well, only once), but we did change a lot of minds in Annapolis, Maryland. In the beginning, legislators would not even make appointments with us. Eight years later, they were calling us, asking us to organize fundraisers. I learned this: twelve determined people can make a huge difference. We took on the political establishment of Maryland, and we eventually won our fight. The fight goes on; I'm no longer active in it. But we made a difference.

11. My mother's name is Prudence and my sister's name is Grace. My name is NOT Chastity. Oh, what is in a name? What was my grandmother thinking? Someone once told my sister that my parents had a lot of nerve. My mom calls me John, and so do family members, and friends from work. Everybody else (thousands upon thousands of square dancers) calls me Happy. I've been that since coming to Washington. It's a collision of the worlds when I'm at a function where some of the people are calling me John and some are calling me Happy. I get confused very easily. You decide. Confuse me any way you can.

12. I was a liturgical assistant for five years at an Episcopal parish in downtown DC. I love the Episcopal Church. If I could leap across the chasm of faith I would be an Episcopalian. The liturgy is beautiful, and fills my heart like no other ritual. During the Eucharist, I really do feel the Holy Mystery of the presence of Christ. I just don't believe it, and that has caused a problem for me. I knew how to be a crucifer. I knew how to hold the alms basin, me standing on the chancel steps, flashing the reflected light from the brass basin across the gathering of congregants. The church secretary told me once that when I was accepting the offerings, that people gave more. As liturgical assistant, I was a master of ceremonies and a traffic cop. I took my duties seriously, and seriously loved what I was doing. One of the priests was a "dry" alcoholic, and couldn't help himself and always blessed far more wine than the parish could consume. He hated pouring it down the piscina, and always insisted that I drink the consecrated wine after the service. Maybe that led to my love of mixed drinks. He also had a warm interest in me that went beyond collegial. I kept our relationship professional. Closeted married gay men should not be part of the clergy. It can get in the way of their ministry.

13. Before that, I was a Latter-day Saint. My mom (who is also my aunt, no kidding) still thinks I'm a saint. Shortly after high school, I converted to the Mormon (LDS) church. I was in love with my high school sweetheart, who is Mormon. I took the discussions because of her. But I didn't convert because she wanted me to. I converted because I wanted to. At the time, I was restless with my Methodist upbringing. I wanted some answers, and the Mormon missionaries had the answers. I struggled with it for ten years, eventually leaving that church. All of my children were raised in the Mormon church, and are all active. It's difficult for me to talk with them about my faith or theirs. I would love to have the opportunity to know and hear about their faith.

14. I squeezed into seven years of college what most people expand into four. Okay, it took me a long time to get through college. I started in 1969, and finished in 1976, graduating from the University of Idaho in Moscow. I graduated from the same school as Sarah Palin (the School of Communications), just a few years earlier. I loved my time at the University, and continue to support it and its Women's Center. I worked my way through school as a warehouseman and truckdriver, and later a janitor. I graduated without any debt, and went on to graduate school. While in college, I got married, and by the end of graduate school, we had two kids, and another on the way. Moscow, Idaho is a beautiful college town. It's small, but a great place to live. It's also the most liberal town in Idaho, which may not be saying much if you live in Takoma Park, Maryland. In any case, I have very fond memories of college.

15. I was once a member of Young Americans for Freedom. I'm sorry for that. Oh oh. This happened in college. I don't know what came over me. I was a pretty conservative lad, probably more libertarian than conservative. By 1972, though, I was a George McGovern supporter. So something happened. I do find as I have grown older that I am more conservative, and I'm not sure that I like that. Oh well, the world is going to hell in a handbasket, and always has been. I'm for Young Americans. I'm for freedom. I'm not for Young Americans for Freedom. I should mention here one of my college professors, Tony Skrbek. He was a bird far from home when he flew to Moscow, Idaho. An alleged communist, and definitely of the leftist ilk, he taught American government. This was in 1970, right after the Cambodian incursion, and the whole campus was in uproar. I didn't like Tony's politics, but he forced me to think, and he forced me to question my assumptions and my values. That's the real gift of a college education.

16. I've been to 47 of the 48 contiguous states. Vermont is on my list of places to visit. Maybe this year. When I was a kid, most summers, Dad would load us into the car, and we'd drive somewhere many states away. As an adult, I've had the opportunity to do much more travel. As soon as I visit Vermont, I'll turn my eye to Hawaii. I'm not sure about Alaska. My nemesis, Sarah Palin lives there.... And it's cold, and I'm a wuss. I could always do the cruise thing, I suppose.

17. I love sailing in the Caribbean. I love being on the water. I go nearly every year, and love the water, the wind, the beaches, and my mates. We've had a lot of fun. It's not always the same group of guys, but always includes repeats from previous trips. It's a great way to get over winter's depression. I heartily recommend it. I love St. Vincent and the Grenadines. Climb up the volcano. Stay a few extra days at a cheesy resort. Eat the mussels. Drink the rum.

18. I love square dancing anywhere. I started square dancing in 2000. Since then, I've danced all over the country to some great callers with a lot of wonderful people. I'm not a social square dancer. I'm what's called an aficionado or a fanatic. Coincidentally, I'm having knee surgery on April 23. I could have had it a week earlier, BUT there's square dancing that night, and I wouldn't want to miss that, would I? I don't care how much the damn knee hurts, I'm going to be square dancing. The knee problem has been around just about as long as the square dancing, and they are highly corelated. I would have had the surgery much earlier, but I have too many other things going on, like a square dance weekend and a square dance convention. I just can't take off the month for recuperation. I tell this to my square dance friends, and they understand exactly what I'm talking about. For the record, I don't have a prairie skirt or crinolines, but I can dance either girl or boy. That kind of freaks out some of the guys when I'm dancing with other clubs. In gay vernacular, that's known as being "versatile."

19. I'm a sexual kind of guy. Those of you who really know me figured this out a long time ago. Sex, preparing for it, experiencing it, snoozing afterwards, its hormonal rush, the ecstatic feelings, the power, the lust, the messiness, the physicality of the act, the connection, the carnality, the intimacy, the shallowness and silliness, the reflection of me and the other, and that's just THINKING about it. I value sex. It's very important to me and the quality of my life. Even bad sex has its rewards, and good sex is a consuming, transformative awe full experience. I love my friends. I love having sex with my friends. I don't want to be delicate about it. Our society is squeamish about sex. I'm not interested in disgusting other people with my behavior, but I refuse to concede the moral ground to those who have a different view about it. The act created me, and in the act I have a profound connection with the men that I love.

And for those I don't particularly love, I check them out on SilverDaddies and ManHunt. Oh what the Internet has done for sex.

20. In 1968-69, I was student body president of Potlatch High School. My political career has stumbled badly since then. Being a homo probably won't help your political career. We're making progress, though. I don't think Barney Frank is going to be President in 2016. When I visited legislators in Annapolis, I learned that they are a species wired a little differently than the rest of us. We wonder why our political leaders behave the way they do. They are a self-selecting group of people who like power. And there's nothing wrong with that as long as the people who elect them know that. I discovered that our "public servants" often thought that because they made the rules, they were, somehow, above the rules, or the rules just didn't apply. When the rest of us read next week's scandal, whatever it may be, we will all be thinking "What was that politician thinking?" And the pol will be clueless. Their minds work differently than ours. So I discovered that I was not the political animal I had thought I was. I ended up being a technical writer and an analyst. That seemed to suit me better.

21. Growing up, I wanted to be either a medical missionary doctor or POTUS. This is something of a repeat of the last paragraph. I was really taken up with God when I was a child. I grew up in a religious home, though not onerously religious. My parents believed in service and taught all of us kids the same. Albert Schweitzer was one of my heroes. Or I could be President of the United States. I was not a very sophisticated little gay boy in Idaho. I finally gave up the medical missionary stuff about the seventh grade. POTUS went out the window when I recognized that I was the color purple.

22. I haven't cleaned "my room" since 1994. I've made several attempts. And I'm in the midst of one now. I'm not very proud of this unpleasant little fact. I don't know how to file anything. I'm horizontally organized, which means that I pile things on the floor, on the table, on chairs. It's not pretty. I've carted hundreds of pounds of paper out of my room, and much, much more remains to be done. It kills me.

23. I'm a geek, but not a very good one. I love my computer. I love gadgets. I couldn't program a DVR or run our DVD player without Ron's steady guiding hand. I know quite a bit about business requirements. I know how to design form interfaces. I can program in a couple of languages. I love my Blackberry. I'm just not real good at it.

24. I'm a good cook. My mother wanted my brothers and me to be good husbands, and to know our way around the kitchen. Cooking is a kind of recreation for me, when I'm in the mood to do it. I'm a throw something together, it'll taste good kind of cook. I've been stirring the pot since I was six or seven. I love soups. I love potatoes. I like to experiment. I make a fabulous Pad Thai. I'm pretty good at figuring out a recipe, although I consider recipes merely advisory. After all, it's my kitchen. So far, my cooking hasn't killed anyone, and I'm very happy when I cook.

25. I'm a cityfied Idaho Country Farm Boy. When I fell off the farm truck in downtown DC in 1983, I was one sorry hayseed, a hick from the sticks. I've kept the cowboy boots, but don't feel obliged to be the bumpkin anymore. My friends still think I talk funny after all these years, but I'm a Marylander now, through and through. I love the mountains and prairies of Idaho. I get back there once or twice a year. But my home is definitely on this side of the Mississippi River, and when I'm on the plane home, and am flying down the Chesapeake, I'm happy to be back home.

My Lame Life

Life really is lame. Honest! Early Christmas morning, Ron and I went for a walk, and ever since, life has been lame. Sort of. I went to my doctor, who referred me to an Orthopedist, who ordered an MRI of my knee, and I have some torn cartilage in there. Isn't that lame?

It doesn't hurt that much, but square dancing is a challenge. The pain is mainly caused when I pivot, and a lot of that goes on in square dancing. I've been wearing smooth-soled shoes (cowboy boots or bowling shoes) and a knee brace and they help a lot, too. Just plain walking can also be painful after 20 minutes or so of slogging. I haven't had enough nerve to try the gym.

Of course, the added lameness in my life comes from my PHP programming. I'm not the world's greatest coder, but I'm working on some civic software that includes a database backend. I'm learning more about SQL than I ever wanted to learn. You can teach an old dog new tricks, it's just not very pretty.

Winter on Bucknell Terrace

I suppose you could call our winter lame, as well. We had our first storm of the season last Thursday. This is how it looked a couple of days later. Our storms, here, are not like you would experience in Minneapolis or Chicago, but our storms have a peculiar twist: they often end up as freezing rain or ice storms. These really can lead to lameness. I fell on the ice Thursday night and poked a hole in my hand. There is no dignified way to walk across the ice. On the other hand, I do enjoy getting some winter. I enjoyed the snow shoveling, and I filled up the condo's sand buckets.

Happy's Mandoline

In the not-so-lame department is my new mandoline. I've been slicing up just about every vegetable in the refrigerator. This is one nifty invention. I haven't cut myself yet, either. That contraption on the right is the vegetable hold. You skewer the item to be sliced, and the Bionic Shield keeps all private parts from being sliced or julienned. So far, I've sliced or julienned potatoes, cabbage, onions, cucumbers, pepperoni (didn't work so well), carrots (didn't use the bionic shield for carrots), and I'm sure I've sliced other things, too, I just can't remember. Every time I use this little wonder, I wonder how I lived such a long and full life without a mandoline in my kitchen.

My Interaction with my Internet Hosting Company's Technical Support

Note:This interchange is a little loopy. I've concluded that the only reason my Internet Hosting Company has tech support is to aggravate its customers.

Thank you for contacting support. Please be prepared to answer your Security Question when we begin chatting. To enhance our security protocols, we'll need you to provide the answer to your Security Question at the beginning of our conversation. If you have not yet set your Security Question and Answer, please log into your account now to set it up. Thank you. Please hold for the next available operator to respond.

You are now chatting with 'Preston Sanders'

Preston Sanders: Hi Happy. My name is Preston, how are you today?

Happy: Hi Preston. I'm having a browser issue with cookies in my PHP scripts.

Preston Sanders: To protect your account from unauthorized changes, can you please verify for me the answer to the Security Question:

Preston Sanders: What is your mother's maiden name?

Happy: B*****t

Preston Sanders: Thank you for the authentication.

Preston Sanders: What exactly seems to be the issue?

Happy: I have some scripts that work okay in Google's Chrome browser, but the scripts do not work in IE7, Safari, or FireFox. I'm using PHP scripts and the $_COOKIE variable. I can read the variable in Chrome, but not in the other browsers.

Preston Sanders: I apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you.

Preston Sanders: There may be an issue with the browser or version of the browser you are using. Please contact any system Administrator regarding this issue.

Preston Sanders: We can do nothing in this regard as you are experiencing this issue on your local machine.

Preston Sanders: Are you the owner of this hosting account?

Preston Sanders: Do you have access to the e-mail address a*****t@happydoodle.*** ?

Happy: Yes, I own the account and I do have access to the e-mail account.

Preston Sanders: Okay.

Preston Sanders: Is there anything else I can assist you with today?

Happy: I'm not sure that I've actually yet been assisted. I'm wondering, for example, is my site configuration correct so that cookies work properly for the different browsers.

Preston Sanders: It should work fine with all the browsers. You can check it on other computers.

Happy: I've checked it on other computers, and it doesn't work on them, either; however, it works for the Chrome browser, but not for the other browsers. I think it is some kind of a PHP problem with reading the $_COOKIE variable, because I can look at the cookies in those various browsers, and the cookie has been properly set, but I can't read the cookie on those browsers, except for the Chrome browser.

Preston Sanders: Could you please provide me the exact URL where you are receiving the error?

Happy: I'm not receiving an http error; the script simply is not working correctly:

Happy: http://www.happydoodle.org/login.php user=***** password=*******

Happy: The script should display http://www.happydoodle.org/profile.php with menu options, but instead, the script display a login url (which is the intended behavior IF the login cookie is not set).

Preston Sanders: Can you please provide the username and password to login at http://www.happydoodle.org/login.php ?

Happy: user=***** password=*******

Preston Sanders: May I place you on hold for 2 to 3 minutes while I review your account?

Happy: Sure.

~~ Two Minute Interlude ~~

Preston Sanders: Thank you for holding.

Preston Sanders: I have checked it and it looks like there is an issue with your scripts. Hence, please contact any Web master and update your scripts.

Preston Sanders: We don't assist our customers with coding issues. I'm sorry and would like to apologize for that.

Happy: I'm the "webmaster" for this particular site. Any suggestions about where to seek some assistance for this issue?

Preston Sanders: I'm sorry, you need to correct this issue on your own. We don't have any issues on our servers.

Preston Sanders: Is there anything else I can assist you with today?

Happy: Evidently not.

Preston Sanders: Thank you for chatting with us. Please feel free to contact us at any time. We are available 24x7.

Preston Sanders: Bye!

It's a Good Day

I'm up "early" this Sunday morning. The fried potatoes are cooking in the cast iron skillet, and I'm waiting for my Sweetie to join me for breakfast (hmmm, think I'll have some fried potatoes). I'm listening to Weekend Edition, and life is good.

I've been consumed the last couple of weeks with creating a contact database in PHP and MySQL. I'm almost done with it (oh, maybe another two weeks...). It has completely taken over my brain. Ron has been kind with me as I prattle on about obscure PHP syntax (I just LOVE that word!) and the hidden logic of nested IF statements. He's so patient with me. That's why I cook him fried potatoes. He deserves it.

We went to see Milk yesterday. It's a very poignant and inspiring story. A friend of ours told me he didn't like the film because it was too preachy and too gay. Too gay? It's about the early gay movement and about a historical gay personality who became much larger than life. Too gay? Excuse me! We don't call films with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt as being too straight. I'm outraged! Absolutely outraged!

I just turned the potatoes. They look fabulous! The secret is to cook them on medium-low heat until they brown, about 10 minutes, without turning or stirring them. Just go and write in your blog! I use a cast-iron skillet and spray it with pan spray. I also get good results with a non-stick skillet.

Well, gotta go and set the table! Peace and Love from Bucknell Terrace!

What I Do in Retirement

Retirement is not a destination: it's a very expensive journey that lasts a long time. I do not sit on my front porch, because I don't have a front porch, although I do have a rocking chair. I waste a lot of time on my computer, just because I can. I think that's okay. I used to waste a lot of time on my computer at work, too, just because I had too. Old habits are hard to break.

I took up the gym when I retired. I hate the gym, but it allows me to eat just about whatever I want to stick in my mouth, and I've actually trimmed some pounds off, although my bad posture (from sitting in a chair in front of my computer) certainly doesn't show an incredible result. I figure, I'm ahead just going to the gym, burning my 600 calories, then clearing out. But now, I have time to hate the gym. That's cool.

Last night, I had a square dance emergency. For those of you snickering out there, such emergencies really do occur, and on a fairly regular basis, too. I originally had dinner plans, but the workshop I dance with only had six dancers, so I scrapped my dinner plans, picked up my friend Michael, and we narrowly averted the dance disaster. Square dance is just that important.

You might guess that retirement affords more opportunities for gentlemen callers. Your surmise is correct. In spades. I'm not particularly proud of that, I'm just noting another element of my retired life. It's one of the less retiring aspects of retirement. It requires a calendar, advanced scheduling techniques, a modicum of wit, and adeptness with java browser technologies.

Online Communities and the Men Who Love Them

Last Thursday, one of our financial planners, Joe, invited Ron and me to lunch. This is always a good thing, because by picking up our lunch tab, he can more easily justify the fees he charges us. He must have a great job, taking people like me to lunch!

At any rate, he mentioned that we should get on Facebook and become his friend. I was under the mistaken impression (apparently) that we were already friends, but I guess we were just business acquaintances or something.

Yesterday, another friend, Chaz, sent me an invitation to join a Facebook group. I thought that this was a Providential Sign (I don't really believe in Providential Signs; I'm hedging my bets here, see Mr. Pascal and his wager, actually, I'm not even hedging my bets, I'm just making a literary allusion, maybe not even that). So I registered on Facebook.

Wow! what an interesting landscape. I've been on other social networking sites (okay, I've been on Manhunt, LinkedIn, and Classmates.com), but nothing quite prepared me for Facebook. I mean, it's a whole industrial segment, and probably accounts for a full 3% of the Gross Domestic Product.

Facebook really wants you to sign up and have friends. It's eerie, like I've just joined a cult, or something (not that there's anything wrong with that). If you import your email list, you'll be astounded that about 98% of the people you write to daily are also members of Facebook, and even stranger, you discover that you are the last person in Wheaton, Maryland to join the herd. Who knew?

But interesting things happen on Facebook, too. A guy I've been trying to get in touch with for years is suddenly my friend. A high school friend is now a Facebook friend. My two daughters are not only my friends, but they wrote on my Wall! Now, of course I'm getting excited, and I realize that maybe this is better than the other places I hang out at on the web.

No, I probably am not going to cancel Manhunt, but it's a very targeted community for special needs. And LinkedIn has a lot of my friends from work, although I notice that Facebook has a lot of those same friends, and it's a lot more social than LinkedIn. Classmates, well, most of the people I've connected with on Classmates are also on Facebook. Facebook is evidently the 600 lb. gorilla and the 136.08 kg canary all rolled into one.

And no wonder, duh! Facebook has a lot of stuff that appeals to a lot of people. At a glance, I can see what friends are doing, and I can always find new friends. I find the site a little intimidating in that it has so much to do and explore (Focus, anyone?). But I'm just blown away by the friends I see on the site, and how I have so many more connections than I had ever imagined. This site is a sociologist's dream. I have not yet asked Barack Obama to be my friend. But I'm thinking about asking Sarah Palin. After all, she's from Idaho.

I expect the novelty will wear off in a few minutes. Facebook seems to have more reach than just a social community, though. I'm pretty sure it will have at least as much utility as eVite. The coolest thing about Facebook is that I don't feel hemmed in. I see the activity of my own world all around me, and for now, that's fascinating.

It's Been a Painful Week

For the first time since Monday, I'm having some relief from some major back pain. I pulled my back out on Monday, and it's been miserable ever since. Damn those pachysandra, and my water bucket!

But I can't complain too much. It's been a good week, too. I've enjoyed watching the speeches at the Democratic National Convention. Go Barack! I am moved by this moment. America witnessed a new page of history being written in Denver. We should all be proud.

Besides watching convention coverage, I was working on the DC Diamond Circulate web site, putting up a volunteer page so that club members and other dancers can help put on our square dance convention next April. You can volunteer, too! I've had fun with it. It's caused me to brush up my PHP skills, and get crackin' with code.

And just because I had a backache doesn't mean I didn't have a sex life. For that, I am grateful. (Aw c'mon guys! What did you expect? I'm rolling my eyes, too.

Portugal Looms

I visited my travel agent yesterday. The vacation across the Big Pond is taking over my head. I'm twenty days from departure. I've been a little more focused on the trip this week. I tend to get overwhelmed, thinking about the details. So I've been concentrating on actually doing things that will get me to and from Portugal.

After seeing Ms. Travel, I went to Barnes and Noble and purchased a couple of maps of Portugal. Between them and the Lonely Planet tour book, I'm going to start laying out a more definite itinerary for me and my sister.

We fly into Madrid and spend three days there. There were lots of things I didn't get to see the first time, so I'm looking forward to seeing the city again, and doing some more exploring. I especially want to go back to the Prado and spend several hours there. I need to dust off my Madrid tour book and my Spanish phrase book. Homework!

I've also ordered some travel clothes and a new backpack, and I need to get a European adapter for my computer and battery charger. I haven't decided completely whether to take my computer, but it would be nice to have it with me on the road. I also need a security wallet and a secure strap for my camera.

I've started a Portugal folder to put all my travel papers, passport, tickets, and reservations. My theory is that if I act like I know what I'm doing, I might actually know what I'm doing. My sister and I are excited and are getting ready to roll.

Gentleman Caller

He called it a date. I would have used a different term of art. In any case, he arrived on my doorstep this afternoon, and I have to say, he looked good, and he performed a good deed.

Most of the men on Manhunt (and you know who you are), are looking for immediate relief. Don't get me wrong, I sincerely understand, and periodically need relief myself, I just can't offer immediate attention to your felt needs.

So I was pleasantly surprised when a gentleman with whom I had exchanged messages on Manhunt weeks ago, sent me an email on Saturday suggesting that we get together this week. Emails like this fill me with anxiety, because my schedule is very constrained with square dancing, lunch invitations, dinner invitations, as well as the other very important things that I do with my life. My fear is that when I tell the guy, "Well, how about 2 p.m. on Wednesday, or 4:30 p.m. on Tuesday, week after next," that he will think I'm playing "mind games" and will drop me from his social set.

I told the gentleman either Tuesday late afternoon or Thursday noon. Remarkably, he was good with that. We exchanged a few other email pleasantries, and he ended up on my doorstep.

I'm grateful for technology that facilitates me having sex with other guys. Admittedly, we don't know or find out a huge amount about each other, but I wouldn't be doing this if it meant I had to go to a bar. Forty seven minutes after he arrived, he was heading out to the gym. He was smiling, and I was, too.

Things Go Bump in the Night

Mikey came over last night. It had been about four months since I had seen him. We had a delightful evening.

He and I met about six months ago on ManHunt. He is much younger than I, so I did not even notice him until he emailed me online one evening in February. As a rule, I don't look at profiles of guys whose age divided into mine yields two and a remainder. We met up, then saw each other a couple of times after that. In the spring, he moved away and left a wistful memory in his wake.

He was in the neighborhood last night visiting (in his words) his parental units. I answered the door, and he had a very bright smile on his face that pretty much flooded the hallway with its brilliance. Don't get me wrong. I'm not worshipping youth or beauty in that last statement. It's simply the truth, he had this bouncy, happy, excited look that was infectious, and I'm certain that I was also smiling and quite happy to have him pay a gentleman's call to my door.

He wore me out. I slept well last night, smiling. What I enjoy most, though, is the connection with Mike who lives in a totally different world. When I catch up with him I get to glimpse this twenty-something world that is alien, fast-paced, and social - full of cultural references about which I'm clueless. I'm guilty of indulging myself in the vicarious thrills of listening to his story and thinking, "I remember when...." I bite my tongue. I wouldn't want Mikey to think I'm an old man.