Blogger Confirmation: This is Me...Online

I had the great pleasure of meeting fellow blogger "This Is Me...Online" this past Tuesday. She was up from Arkansas to visit family very briefly and took some precious time from her tight schedule to see me. We met at the downtown mall so that three young teens she had in tow could have something to do while we talked.

We could easily have gone on for hours. "Meo," as I like to call her, and I have a lot in common—except she's sweet. She has stunning blue eyes and an easy smile. We laughed and chatted and wished Rox could have been there with us. (Road trip!) We had barely begun when the time whizzed by and she had to take her crew to the Children's Museum. I give them credit: they were very patient.

Meo is number 17 on my list of Internet friends made personal with face-to-face visits. This is a lot of fun. Who's next?

Hope In Small Things

Barbara King quotes from Here Is Where We Meet by John Berger:

Berger creates a conversation between a son and the dead mother who reappears to him as he stands atop an aqueduct in Lisbon.

The mother says, “Let a few things be repaired. A few is a lot. One thing repaired changes a thousand others.” The son replies, “So?” And out flows a maternal speech:

"The dog down there is on too short a chain. Change it, lengthen it. Then he’ll be able to reach the shade, and he’ll lie down and he’ll stop barking. And the silence will remind the mother she wanted a canary in a cage in the kitchen. And when the canary sings, she’ll do more ironing. And the father’s shoulders in a freshly ironed shirt will ache less when he goes to work. And so when he comes home he’ll sometimes joke, like he used to, with his teenage daughter. And the daughter will change her mind and decide, just this once, to bring her lover home one evening. And on another evening, the father will propose to the young man that they go fishing together… Who in the wide world knows? Just lengthen the chain."

In this season of peace, may you lengthen a dog’s chain. And then see what happens.

This is why we keep trying, doing small things. Ripples in the pond. Breezes in the atmosphere. Hope in small things.

Thanks to Andrew Sullivan.

Tornwordo: It Gets Better

Canadian-American Tornwordo talks to himself in high school and makes an insightful comparison of "norm" and "normal."

Torn's blog is one of the first I discovered on the Interwebs. If you haven't read it, you're missing out. He shares his upbeat philosophy about life with his husband and dog. Great read!

Chicago!

Last month I had a chance to meet a man I've known only online for several years. Brian, originally from Australia and now from New Zealand, planned a world trip that included Chicago for a couple of days. That put him close enough for me to visit for a few hours, so I took a day off and drove up to meet him at his hotel. We agreed that a boat tour of the river and lake sounded good, so we took off to find it.

I was so excited about being with Brian that I left my camera in the car as we explored Chicago. I didn't even get a picture of him. Duh. So here's the shot he sent me so that I would recognize him. Yes, he is a sweetheart of a guy.

On the Chicago River, our tour guide told us about the architecture and history of Chicago, most of which I cannot possibly remember. But it was fascinating anyway. I took pictures with my phone.

Each bridge we passed had a distinct bridge-tender's building. I don't know if they're still in use.

This "Corn Cob" is an apartment building with parking open to the air.

This is a close-up of the building which won the owner's request for "the world's most beautiful building." (Sorry, I can't remember its name.)

The city installed locks at the mouth of the Chicago River and established the level of the river two feet lower than Lake Michigan. It's a small lock, only 100 x 600 feet, but it's in frequent use. Because of that lock's inrushing water to the river, engineers have managed to reverse the flow of the Chicago River from the lake down to the Mississippi River. This has really helped to keep the lake clean; don't know how much it's helped the Mississippi.

This is only a small fraction of the city skyline visible from the lake. Pretty much the entire skyline (several miles long) was engulfed in the Great Chicago Fire. Chicago is now called the Second City because all the buildings you can see are built on the ashes of the first city.

Brian and I had lunch in a quiet place before I had to head back to Indy. I really enjoyed getting to know him and his story a little better, although he is quite forthcoming in his blog. You can read about his travels, his observations of the Anglican Church, and New Zealand life at Noble Wolf.

P.S. This makes fourteen InterWeb people I've met. Isn't it great?

Ze Frank's Spamologue

Ze Frank is difficult to describe, but he is someone you need to get to know. Brilliant and funny, he creates a nexus for connection that produces works of humanity, humor, and music from contributors all over the world. By himself he's pretty special too.

I can't embed the video headlined here, so you need to follow this link to witness the re-enactment of an actual spam letter from Africa, requesting "assistance" with a large sum of money. After you see that video, bookmark his webpage. Hours upon hours of delight await you.

Also: watch his TED talk on connections on the Web.

It's Getting Better All The Time

I totally stole Blobby's post title to put up his "It Gets Better" video because it's the perfect description for what he has to say. Big bonus: he smiles at the end.

Now, Where Was I?

Oh, yeah. Guys, it's been crazy. Posts I owe you:

I went to Chicago last week to visit with an Aussie blogger who was coming through on his world tour. Brian and I had too short a time, but it was wonderful. While you wait for my tidbit and pitiful phonecam shots, check out his reports on his travels.

This morning Fox News (I know!) taped a debate between me and the executive director of the American Family Association - Indiana. My mouth was so dry my tongue wouldn't move against my teeth. Dear Lord. I guess I did okay.

I'll be back to explain it all.

The Mind In Neutral

I was talking with “Father Tony” Adams the other day about his recent South Florida Gay News interview with Mark King, owner/operator of the blog "My Fabulous Disease.” The disease so described is HIV, for which Mark tested positive in 1985. (Check out Mark’s website, which is filled with information and links on HIV/AIDS with an unusual take: humor and gratitude. He pulls it off, too, with intelligent and hilarious commentary. It is refreshingly honest.)

Anyway. Tony repeated something very interesting from his interview with Mark that struck me and stayed in my head. Mark was talking about his years doing drugs and said, “My mind in a neutral state wants drugs.”

The mind in neutral: this is when there is nothing pulling on you but yourself, no outside influences until you pursue them. Where does it go? My mind today is in a totally different state than even a couple of years ago, but left to my own devices—as is often the case, much to my delight—I want to read. I want to know more. There isn’t enough time in the day when I’m reading.

The desire to know more sounds so, I don’t know, noble, doesn’t it? But it can create problems if you can’t get out of neutral. I don’t hear anyone or anything when I’m reading; it’s angered plenty of people who thought I was ignoring them. And my reading material vacillates from primarily nonfiction—science and religion—to trashy nonsense—no, I’m not telling. My mind in neutral can successfully keep me from interacting with my environment with astonishing ease, leaving my family and friends a distant second if I’m not vigilant.

Is the mind in neutral always a negative drive? I’m not certain. Sometimes I’ll put down the books and computer and go looking for a new experience, like the parks I discovered in my city last year. (But that was due to fellow bloggers’ writing, so I guess I’m back to square one.)

What about you? No one’s around, you have no immediate needs to meet, your mind goes into neutral. What do you do?

Image from somewhere on TED.com.

Update: Look what I found.

Pit Stop

Just checking in briefly, as I have to take the classroom final for scuba diving in 90 minutes. But I wanted to put a plug in to those who actually have time to watch TV this month. Tonight on NBC at 8:00 Eastern, "The Sing Off" will offer an a capella group that has ties to the blogdom. Fellow blogger David's cousin Daniel is the lead singer for the group from southern California, appropriately dubbed The SoCals. If you're home tonight, check it out. And if you think that The SoCals should stick around for the next round of competition, please vote for them. David is so proud of his cousin, and I'd love to see Daniel go to the top.

Muppets Bohemian Rhapsody

Posted by the Muppet Studio on November 23.


Hat tip to JoeMyGod.

Blogger Confirmation: Blobby

I am in Cleveland, staying at a friend's apartment in his absence while I attend a conference. Mike has shown such hospitality, with everything I need for my stay. Only one thing is missing: Mike. We meet when he's on the road for art shows, passing through Indy. I thought finally I was going to be able to spend more than an hour with him. Sigh. Next time.

I was able to meet another friend, face-to-face for the first time: Blobby arranged for us to meet at an upscale bar downtown for a drink and conversation. It was a gorgeous place but completely empty except for us. Apparently downtown Cleveland rolls up the sidewalks at 6:00p. (Indianapolis used to be the same way.) No matter; we talked for two hours about everything and found some common background: his parents have a place on Siesta Key in Sarasota, so he knows the area.

We laughed about our stories and went on and on without pause. It was over too soon. I've teased him in the past for scowling in all his blog photos. (He says he doesn't like how he looks when he smiles.) Well, Blobby was all smiles last night, and I have proof he looks great when he grins.



As ever, our time together was too short, but it was terrific while it lasted. He says I was his first live link from his blog. If y'all are going to be in Cleveland, look him up. Maybe he'll smile for you too.

On The Road Again, Again

I'm about to head out the door to hit the road for sunny tropical Cleveland, where I will be attending the annual convention for the Covenant Network of Presbyterian Churches. I'll be networking and learning, all with the fervent hope of someday being a great resource for somebody my church. (Yeah, gettin' a little frustrated at the pace, which is glacial right now.)

If all goes as planned, I'll have a blogger confirmation for y'all too. WiFi will be spotty; updates when possible.

And yes, I'll be careful on the road. I'm taking my new convertible minipontoon. (When hubby got the "In God we trust" license plate years ago, I dubbed it the Jesus Chrysler. Now I'm driving the thing. I added an HRC sticker for balance.)

Later!

Great Signs From The National Equality March

Stolen from Buzz Feed, where you'll find more.

Bird Of Paradise

©the jeep guy

Capriciously stolen from (newlywed) Big Island Jeep Guy. Can you blame me?

Check out his amazing online photostream.

How I Met My Significant Other

I was a freshman in college, alone on a campus of 22,000 students at the University of South Florida. I didn’t know anyone. I had just turned eighteen when our dorm floor—all freshman girls—was invited to a party at an all-boys dorm floor. Only a handful of us went, to a handful of boys in one of their dorm rooms. The frozen daiquiri was the drink of the year, and our host had a blender full of lime slush.

We all sat on the floor and talked while Led Zeppelin played in the background. Abe sat opposite me and focused on me pretty early on. What struck me then was that he listened more than he talked. He looked at me when I spoke. This was not what I was used to seeing. No bluster, no false bravado, no aggression, just questions and interested responses. And such kindness in those beautiful brown eyes. I wanted to know this boy.

I learned more about that night many years later. When I stood to leave, Abe offered to walk me back across the quad. Apparently our host started to rise to join us, but behind my back Abe waved him off. He sat back down, the entire exchange unbeknownst to me. Abe and I headed back to my dorm, where we agreed to another date. The rest is history.

It’s a long history: 38 years together, 31 of them married. Lots of ups and downs, and a few years back we reached a new high in our relationship that has held. Abe is a man of integrity, faith, hard work and a very dry sense of humor. It’s so dry that it took me years to know when he was kidding. But he does love to make me laugh. And he still makes me melt with those eyes.

It started with Jazz and went on to Jeaux, where I caught it.

Armadillo Cam

Quite possibly the best 17 seconds you'll spend today.



From the Museum of Animal Perspectives.

Update: Better link! Check out the other animal cams.

It's A Guy Thing

I dare not let my son see this photo. Embiggen to find out why.



Image courtesy of Romain Laurent Photography. You should check out his website.

To The Barebackers

An online conversation about unprotected sex began with the publication of Father Tony’s recent column in the South Florida Blade. Other bloggers have responded with essays of their own, The Milkman's being especially eloquent. I offer here a different point of view.

You who continue to have unprotected sex:

You think this is only about your right to choose. You think that you should have carte blanche on how you live and whether you die young or not.

Let me tell you from terrible experience: this isn’t all about you.

If you contract HIV, your quality of life will be irrevocably altered. If you have good insurance, you will still have to deal with reactions to harsh and costly medications. If you do not have insurance, you will likely lose your job because of the hours you will spend in clinics and the emergency room.

In the end, though, it comes down to this: do you have anyone who loves you? Anyone at all? When money, health and time run out, when that end of life comes, the people who love you will have to watch you die.

Those who love you will try to help you keep a sense of “normal,” taking you to the store for food which you cannot eat, keeping watch on you so that you don’t wander away, and hurrying you through the line before you soil yourself in public.

They will have to stand by helplessly while you slowly starve on a diet of up to 4000 calories a day, because the simple yeast infection which ravages your digestive system won’t let the food stay in your body long enough for the nutrients to be absorbed.

Those who haven’t seen you in a long time will try to hide with forced smiles their shock at your appearance when they first see you, looking for all the world like an aging prisoner of a concentration camp, with joints bigger than your limbs, sunken eyes, bleeding gums.

The people who love you will push you to the TV room in a wheelchair in which you are strapped with a belt across your slender chest because you will be too weak to sit upright. Before you are bedridden and hooked to IVs, they will watch the hospice nurses carry you in their arms to set you down in the living room to talk about things that don’t matter at all.

Those who love you will agonize over what to do when you hallucinate that there are insects crawling all over you, helping you to brush them off so that your panic will subside.

They will try to stop their tears when you have no idea who they are or that they have traveled hundreds of miles to make sure you know they love you.

One who loves you will hold you as you struggle to stay in this life, giving you permission to leave; and, with a final whispery sigh, you will go.

The people who love you will ultimately be grateful for the peace—yours and theirs—that your death will bring, even though they will always be haunted by the images of your slow and excruciating demise.

Those who love you will most likely go through this in silence, for even today no one wants to talk about it.

You who have unprotected sex do in fact have the right to choose. My brother and those many thousands who were decimated by this cruel disease did not have what you do today: a sort of informed consent. You know how to stop HIV from spreading.

Image courtesy of Tony Adams

The greatest enemy of autonomy is self-destruction. Police yourselves. Claim the brotherhood you share by honoring the deaths of those who came before you. Choose love. Choose life.

Bear With Me

After returning from vacation to the bustle of Real Life, I have stolen a moment to tell you about my latest blogger confirmation: I have met BearToast Joe, who also comments as Bear Me Out.

We met last week at a café in a small mountain town, ostensibly to have breakfast and chat. In an outcome that is becoming more of a theme and less of a surprise, we talked through lunch without eating, finally saying goodbye mid-afternoon. The time flew.

Joe greeted me from the sidewalk with a bear hug. I do mean that; the man is huge. But his embrace was warm and friendly. Anyone who reads his blog would expect that, as I did. We sat down inside and forgot the rest of the world for a while.

Joe is a man of strong faith who is greatly concerned for his family and friends as he makes the transition to an out gay man. His large frame is burdened under the heavy weight of his conscience, wanting nothing for himself except the life he was born to live. The peace that this new life will bring is being made difficult by others’ expectations, and he is working hard to help them come to terms with this “new” man—who is the same Joe they’ve always known.

Joe was able to give me some input as I outlined some of the strategies I have in place for my church. I’m always open to ideas, since I feel like I’m making this up as I go along.

We ended up at a table outside so that he could take a brief puff on his pipe. His baseball cap features Smokey Bear. Perfect.

We had a wonderful time, laughing at ourselves over our foibles, sharing our stories of struggle. It was what anyone would ask of limited time with a friend. And I am proud to call Joe my friend.

* * * * *

Another blogger friend of mine was supposed to join me later, but Java’s life right now is in such turmoil that making all the arrangements for a visit was just too much. I know how badly she wanted to come.

She is really struggling with family issues, and it is taking its toll on her own emotional health. Please visit Java and give her some virtual hugs.

Top image courtesy of the Interwebs.

Today On Bilerico: What Would You Do If You Weren't Afraid?

I post about twice a month on The Bilerico Project. Read my latest post here.