06.20.09
Posted in Home Life, Mom, The days at 3:23 pm by Beau
I’ve spent the weekend thinking of friend who lost his mother to cancer this week and who is sitting at the funeral right now next to his partner and the rest of the family. His partner lost his mother several years ago to cancer also. When I think back now, I now have a spate of six years, really since my own mother died, where a friend has lost a parent each year and while I initially thought “how strange” to myself, now that I’ve really looked at it, I guess maybe it isn’t so much strange as just part of our lives as we’re getting older.
I don’t know if there is a right or expected time to start losing our parents. I would have said in my early to mid thirties that I would have expected people to start losing their grandparents. I lost two and have my very last grandmother still around and kicking which I know I’ve been lucky to be able to say and appreciate each conversation and time I spend with her. But now that I’m on the countdown to 40, I know I have to be more expecting of eventual life events. I was even telling Jeff the other day that on my run I was thinking about the next ten years of our lives together and how, statistically speaking, this will be the decade when things start breaking and falling off of us. I could realistically expect one of us to have a heart scare if not an outright cath and stent for a blocked artery. I think we’re now in the window for certain kinds of leukemia and more uncommon organ-based cancers. On the plus side, I feel more and more confident that I’m finally out of the woods for testicular cancer which I was at a higher risk for and had been expecting anytime after I turned 25, since I’m a black cloud kinda guy.
As I’m big on clich´s, “I guess if it’s not one thing it’s another” suits me just as well as anything else. Pithy, for sure, but true, none the less.
And yet my thought still go back to Jay and the passing of his Mom. This one a steep and quick decline from pancreatic cancer that took her so quick I’m still not sure anyone can make sense of it. Jeff’s dad was that way too…three weeks from diagnosis of lung cancer to being gone. In some ways, I can’t even fathom what it takes for someone to gird themselves to that kind of decline because unlike a sudden accident, I think people probably tell themselves and hold out for improvement or at least more time. I thought it was amazing to watch Jeff with his dad the day after the diagnosis go in and settle up the account, making sure his Dad knew exactly where he stood in Jeff’s life. Jeff had a clear idea that there was no time to wait, even with a long-term diagnosis and that days are lived as days. I was luckier, some would say, I had six months with my Mom before she passed away and five and a half of them were really good months and so, in my typical fashion, I stammered and hemmed-n-hawed over the months, dribbling out the same truing of accounts with her, never denying we had limited time but in some kind of denial that there would always be a tomorrow to say and do more.
And so we’re here today. More sorrow and loss and now, rather than an aberration, it seems like maybe more of a right of passage for those of us getting a little bit older and moving from our young adult hood into whatever this next phase is (Early middle age? Certainly not!).
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06.06.09
Posted in Home Life, The Blog at 8:13 am by Beau
I was accused last night of faking my way into marching with the gay blogger group for gay pride in a few weeks.
“A video of a bear in your yard doesn’t really qualify as blogging,” I was told.
As I thought about it, he was sort of right but also getting his drunk on so I dismissed it out of hand. But with the wisdom of sleep, I understand and agree.
What the hell am I doing around here?
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05.22.09
Posted in Fun, Home Life, Movies, The Blog, The days, The garden at 2:59 pm by Beau
I’m on a conference call this morning and Jeff rushes in and is pointing outside. I get up, head still connected to my douchy headset and see Jeff pointing out the window at the bear who has lumbered out of the woods and over to our tree that has a bird-feeder in it. I’m wildly throwing things at Jeff like: the CAMERA and the VIDEO CAMERA. I believe, however, that Jeff is actually wanting me to “take care of it”.
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It doesn’t take long for the bear to realize it’s being gawked at so it kind of lumbers on around our workshop and then Jeff hollers that it’s going for our trash we keep in there. He runs back into the kitchen and comes out banging two pots together which is about all the bear-instruction we’ve ever gotten living out here (other than ‘don’t approach it…it won’t be a friendly bear’) and I’m running after him, screaming “NOT THE CALPHALON POTS!!! DON’T BANG THOSE TOGETHER, YOU’LL SCRATCH THEM”.
So you know…it’s about priorities and safety at our place. Eventually the bear dropped the bag of trash it was going to start mauling and lumbered off into the woods. And now I have to order new Calphalon pots.
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05.03.09
Posted in Being Better, Fun, Home Life, The garden at 9:07 pm by Beau
I’ve been gardening just about every year since Jeff and I bought the house upstate eight years ago. When we first bought the house, the garden was actually already established by the previous owners and was some huge thing full of rows and rows as well as just about every cast-off piece of everything on God’s green earth. Additionally, there was a barrel of something that was foul and evil which I later came to find out was monkey poo which he had been getting from some research lab in New Jersey and using as manure. I’m pretty sure simian dookie isn’t supposed to be used as compost. I got rid of it right away.
When we enlarged our property footprint and, serendipitously, the above ground pool in the back yard collapsed, we moved the garden to the back yard, fencing in a nice plot that was a perfectly manageable size for me. It was at that time I discovered the Square Foot Gardening method which I’ve embraced whole-heartedly and had great success with.
I was out composting and mulching everything around the house this weekend, including the garden and really have it set up to start taking the plants next weekend. Cucumbers and tomatoes seem to be my two main priorities though I’m throwing in some beans, peppers, peas, lettuces, and try a few root veggies like beets, onions, and carrots.
But then again, I never really know. I’ve been known to stick in various extra flowers and just a bit of whatever I have laying around left over. There is some kind of vine with berries that has sprung up in the corner which I’ve let go these last few years and it adds a nice touch. Also, the 14-foot anaconda garter snake living somewhere in the rock pile in one of the corners let me know it was around while I was cleaning up debris left over from the winter on Saturday. Jeff and I are still debating whether I screamed like a girl or yelled like a startled, terrified man.
But it’s coming along and I’m all excited to have the season start.
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03.23.09
Posted in Fun, Home Life, Killing Time, other stuff at 8:28 pm by Beau
You would think that we didn’t keep a bowl of fresh water out for the cats at all times. I did this about eight times today or every time I went into the bathroom. It’s a good thing we don’t have kids…they would be such spoiled ruffians.
Ding Kitty Wants a Drink NOW!!! (Quicktime, 15MB)
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03.18.09
Posted in Being Better, Home Life, The Blog, The days, Vanity at 5:24 am by Beau
- Beau and Jeff, San Francisco – September 2008
Today is our anniversary. It is our tradition, about the only one we have, really, that we start our day together by reciting The Meeting and it goes something like this:
Jeff: “On this day, [insert number of years], there I was, attending Ms. Stephen Hayes’ pre-Black Party Party when in you walked, all fresh chicken. I walked over to Stephen and asked, ‘who’s that‘ to which he replied, ‘Oh her? She’s such a mess.”
“When we got to the Black Party, we spent the evening dancing together and every time one of my friends started getting up onto you, I tapped them on the shoulder and wagged my finger at them, letting them know you were mine.”
“When we got up to the backroom, it was dark and I was scared so I walked behind you and that’s when you put your hand on my crotch and had your way with me and we’ve been together ever since.”
Beau: “On this day, [insert number of years], I had just moved from St. Louis as a traveling nurse. I dropped my clothes off in Morristown that very day and drove into New York City to stay with a friend’s cousin who invited me to go to the Black Party as an welcome to NYC. He mentioned we’d be going to a friend’s pre-party so I was all nervous. I was so fresh and green I wore jeans and a blue-button up shirt because I had no style. We got to the pre-Black Party Party and as soon as I walked into the tiny apartment, some crazy, scary Filipino dressed in a pair of tight black silk underwear and wearing a long black overcoat came running over to me, flapping his coat like huge bat wings. I peed my pants right there. ”
Later on in the evening, I got stuck in a conversation with Michael Mitchell who was describing how he likes to spit on a trick’s chest during sex. I’d still not been able to speak a word since I arrived. ”
After we all cabbed over to the Black Party, we spent the evening dancing and all the men I’d met at the pre-Party were dancing around me being friendly. You finally asked if I wanted to go upstairs ‘to see what was going on‘. Upstairs it was very dark and I was scared so you stood behind me and pushed me forward into the masses of sweaty, undulating people. Then you reached around and grabbed my crotch. We’ve been together ever since.”
Basically the truth of the story lies somewhere in between, depending on who you talk to. I had just moved to NYC that very day and Jeff and I did meet at Ms. Stephen Hayes’ pre-Black Party Party and Stephen did call me a mess to Jeff although he’d never met me before and I’d never been to New York to be able to establish that kind of reputation (although that was the point and purpose of me coming to New York in the first place). Jorge, the animated Filipino, was wearing nothing but underwear and a big black overcoat and he did scare the piss out of me when I first walked into the pre-Party. We went to the Black Party as described and then details get foggy…Jeff and I have come to an agreement that he was standing behind me but who ever made the first move on the other is lost forever in the clammy, gropy, sweaty memory of whatever was happening in the dark, upper room that night.
When we finally walked out into the sunlight the following Sunday morning, Jeff, against his better judgment actually gave me his phone number to call sometime. I, being completely introverted and phone-phobic, had no intention of calling him but later that day, I thought that the least I could do after a fizzy night of dancing and hand-jobs would be to give him a call. My plan was to call while he was out on a date he’d said he’d be on that evening, thereby doing my friendly duty but avoid having to actually talk to him. Best made plans diverted! He was home when I called and put up with me hemming-n-hawing about how I’d just wanted to leave him a message about meeting him last night. Eventually we somehow made a date and then that was that.
Even though I was only in the area temporarily for work, we ended up dating (even while he was dating someone else for the first eight weeks we were seeing one another…I eventually found out I had the M, W, Saturday fuck schedule while Robert, the crucifix-loving other guy who Jeff’s friends liked better had T and Th.). When I re-upped my nursing contract for another three months to stick around, things got a little more serious, or at least they did to Jeff because I still had no intention of staying or settling down. I flirted with a long-term nursing engagement in Nowhere Alaska, keeping Jeff in the dark as to whether I was staying or going up until the last minute and ultimately ended up staying. We moved in together at six months as a way to save money since my housing stipend would pay his rent and soon enough, the months together turned into years.
We’re fourteen years in now. As I described it to friends on vacation a while back, “…very difficult years” which came out wrong in how it initially sounds but which is true, never the less. What I was trying to say is, relationships are difficult; personalities are personalities and compromise can be hard. Jeff and I never had one of those rocket-ship, exploding super-nova relationships, one with fire and so much incendiary inclinations when we’re together…it has always been a slow, steady climb that puts a better day ahead of the next one. Trust me when I say the ache when we’re apart, physically, emotionally, and mentally is very real and very deep. Each year, our anniversary cards read something to the effect of, “…another year together, each year better than the last” and that is true and that is the hallmark of our days together…we are together because each day is better than he last. We continue to grow and find our way with one another. Of course we know each other’s buttons and know how and when to press them but that’s all just noise, really. We make our way each day, trying to be kind and be better to one another, loving each other in the small ways that are significant to us and we’ve built a life on that very simple thing.
This past fall we went to California and got married. Not because either of us felt any overwhelming need or desire to be married; neither of us actually believe in it. We got married because we felt it was important to stand and be counted so that others, to whom marriage is important, might have the opportunity to do it some day. For us, it was a great weekend together with our friends and I got a little Folsom eye candy in the mix…it has also confused the whole ‘what is our anniversary’ question. While I’m more apt to remember our wedding date more so than our Domestic Registration date, for me The Anniversary will always be March 18th, 1995 when I walked into a stranger’s party where no one knew me and I didn’t know them and met Jeff, my lover, my friend, my partner, and now my husband all these many years later.
Happy Anniversary, babe. (See, it’s funny ’cause he doesn’t read the blog. 
)
UPDATE: Even though ivory is the traditional gift for 14 years together, Jeff decided to fully embrace our old, boring marriage schtick and bought us matching Snuggies® of which, I’m loathe to admit, we will actually use frequently and in good health….just not to some fuck-ass sports outing with other people like on the commercials. We have standards.
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08.11.08
Posted in Home Life, Mom, The garden at 7:20 pm by Beau
Jeff and I have a spot in our backyard that has a particular circular pattern. This was the result of an above ground pool that came with the house when we bought it back in 2001. Two brutal winters in a row finished the pool off and we opted for a year-round hot-tub with deck rather than put a pool back in. The spot remained bare for several years, then we put the garden in but there was still a faint circular foot print that I’ve always wanted to do something with.
Two years ago, I planted some bee balm (mondara didyma Aquarius) along the hill which has spread nicely and filled in a crescent-shape, giving us the first hint of something else, something bigger that might make use of the existing pattern. We’ve also been focused on making the beds in the back yard friendly for butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds while trying to keep deer uninterested. So this weekend the ideas for the spot came together and we came up with the idea of a memory garden, filled with flowering plants to draw in my mother’s favorite butterflies and hummingbirds but also to give us some focus against the garden. So we put in a circular path of stones around a central stone and then continued the crescent of bee balm around the parameter. We have a bronze bird-bath/sundial combo coming for the center and lots more salvia, milk weed, bee balm, and butterfly bushes to fill in. I’ve also got creeping thyme seeds coming to sow between the stones because frankly, the idea of buying a ton of 3″ pots of established plants, cutting and dividing them up to stuff between the stones sounds perfectly horrific.
But the little thing that will only be significant to Jeff and I, and the reason we’re calling it our Memory Garden, is because we’re totally going there: we’re having a few stones engraved with significant dates in our life together: when we first met, when we first boffed one another (eerrr…see “when we first met”), our domestic partnership, the day we bought our home, and now in late September, our wedding date. We’re not typically schmaltzy boys but when we apply ourselves, we do it whole-heartedly which I sorta love.
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08.05.08
Posted in Home Life at 11:20 pm by Beau
– So says Joseph Conrad
The Reunion – My original plan for going back to where I was born and raised in Ohio was singular and purposeful: I’d finally gotten an invitation to my 20th high school reunion. I never went to any of the other reunions because I never felt ready, for what it was worth. I’m not sure what changed for this year other than twenty years. I certainly wasn’t any more ready than any other time but something changed, something in my head that just said it was time.
I went to a very small school in the country, mostly with people that I’d started with in kindergarten and ended up graduating with. My perception was that middle school and espeically high school was problematic and difficult. I was shy, introverted, gangly, grappling with being gay even though I hadn’t put a name to it and it all came out at insecure awkwardness that made me ripe for the picking. I had a few close friendships that developed but I never hit my stride in high school and never came 
into myself. I actually didn’t do that until my early 30′s. But I did hit that stride and have come to a restless peace with myself; I’ll always be shy and introverted and awkward and gangly but that’s ok and life goes on. I’ve managed pretty well and ended up not so bad, not so alone, and not so damaged from what I thought of as horrific school experiences. So going back to the reunion wasn’t at all about going back and giving a big “fuck you” to people, it was going back to re-engage with people I’d not seen in twenty years in most cases. This was especially true with the small group of friends I spent most of my time with: Kris, Shelly, Julie, Graham, and Sean.
Graham was the only friend from school that I’ve had any contact with over the years and that was spotty at best but we re-connected before the reunion, him moving back to our home town and working on a gorgeous historical home these past few years. For the others, it seemed like their lives just stopped to me while mine went on so I was anxious to get caught up with them…for the years to pour back in and fill up those holes for me. And they were all there, waiting when Graham and I arrived (we were using each other as crutches, planning elaborate signals to escape the reunion should it turn out horrific, signals neither of us ended up using). Sean was the only one who wasn’t there, rightfully choosing a family vacation over the reunion. Everyone else was waiting at the door of the barn (only in the country) and it was as if the twenty years had melted away. We spent the hours getting caught up in each other’s lives as you’re supposed to do at these kinds of things. The three girls, all who had such plans that we used to laugh over during our years in high school had grown up. All were married to good men and had children and careers and had settled. They were happy and interested in what happened to me which I was happy to fill them in on. Though honestly, saying you’re a health care consultant kinda lost its sheen when I actually said it out loud. 
And it went like that late into the evening. There were lots of hugs and getting caught up with a ton of people I hardly spoke to in high school and all the awkwardness fell by the way side. In a stunning turn of events, I kind of noticed there was a lot of touching on my, which was ironic since I was kind of the fag at school. But at the reunion, none of that seemed to matter and so I got semi-molested which was perfect.
I think overall I’ve aged pretty well. I had a couple of pudgy years threaded with some darkness and unhappiness, but lately, I’ve grown into the man I’ve wanted to be and I’ve gained some confidence in that so walking into the reunion was good. I’m hoping now the list that went around helps keep me in contact with some of the people I ran around with back in school. Most are still local to the area, me being the one furthest away. But it gives me one more thing to return to Ohio for which was the theme of the whole time back there: things to come back for and I can say any trip that adds several things to that list is nothing short of a great trip.
The Grandmother – Coincidentally, my grandmother whom everyone calls Mimi fell ill and was hospitalized right before my trip back to Ohio. I lived with my grandmother back in the late 80′s after being away at college for my first year. My grandfather had fallen ill with cancer and school wasn’t working out for me so I moved back to their farm and cared for my grandfather as he died. It kicked off my nursing career and I ended up living with Mimi for the next four years while I finished college locally. I was always particularly close with her, she lovingly called me Bo-Peep, and the highlight of growing up was getting to spend nights with her and my grandfather at their farm, just down the road from our house. Moving away after college and moving away from her was one of the hardest things I’ve done and staying away has been equally difficult. Our lives have always been so wrapped up in family that being away when most everyone else has stayed put has been a struggle for me. To this day, Mimi always asks me when I’m going to grow out of my “New York Phase” and come home. But I know where my home is, certainly, though there is always a pull of guilt when she asks.
So the trip back to Ohio was bittersweet as I saw Mimi fighting a declining illness, one that will probably not allow her to live alone again and will significantly impact her day to day life. She’s always been the matriarch to the family, a strong farmers wife, practical and thrifty, joyous in the new babies coming into the family and has never missed a wedding. It’s hard to watch someone who has never been sick decline so rapidly and be forced to take the bitter medicine of watching a body betray them while their mind is still fresh and agile. There really aren’t words that make any of it better but to be able to sit at her bedside and just hold her hand and be there made me feel better and I think it helped her, too.
The Meeting – I finally got to meet the man. We’d been commenting and chatting and emailing for a while now and because he was too conveniently close to my hometown, I couldn’t not meet him. As has held true for all my face-to-face blog meetings with the likes of him, him, him, him, and a slew of others, he was as real in person as his blog portrays. Sometimes you can’t be sure but I wasn’t disappointed. He arranged a whole blogger day of beauty at his regular salon in Dayton and we spent a few hours chatting and getting to know one another over pedicures and hair cuts. I left my camera in the car because he likes his anonymity but I can attest that, contrary to all his self-depreciation, the man is hot and a total catch. Ohio men need to be alerted. We traded gifts before we parted ways: he hooked me up with “Peace Like a River” which has gorgeous prose and I’m loving as well as the first season of “Dexter” which I can’t wait to start. I sent him on his way with my favorite book, “The Virgin Suicides” which I hope he finds equally as fetching.
And that was the trip back to Ohio. Of course I went and visited my mother’s grave at the family cemetary. 
I’m not one for that kind of thing and chose to think of my mother not in the last months of her life nor as someone in their grave, but it’s a connection to the person and I’ll be buried beside her one day so it’s always a good reality check to make sure things are on course when you can look down and know this is where you’ll end up one day, regardless.
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07.13.08
Posted in Home Life at 5:46 pm by Beau
Jeff in garden looking for cucumbers. Quarts of pickles made so far: 3
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