Happy Birthday to Me

And this one was actually nice, quiet and low key.

I'm appreciative because this time last year, I was screamed at and hit by Rick.  I was angry about the whole thing because the birthday was one of those milestone ones.  I wanted to celebrate, and was put through hell instead.

But I got through that one and ultimately the aftemath.  Now I am away from all that.

The experience also made me realize my housemate's mother is right when she mentioned that one needs to count their blessings.  Her son was talking about all that was wrong in his live, and she rattled off all the things going right and said, "Count your blessings."

The response was, "But,"

And that was as far as he got because for about five rounds every time he said, "But," She said, "COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS!!" as she rattled off more reasons why he should.

Needless to say, I'm not out to battle that woman.

Anyway, I am enjoying my birthday and hope for many more to come.

Farewell to the Calm Birthday Weekend

I don't care that Birthday Weekend this year was a wild, out of control celebration.

And I guess you do have to experience really bad stuff to appreciate good stuff.  In this case, last year's iteration of birthday weekend dealing with a man who was mentally falling apart and screaming at me.  That, combined with the issue of hitting the point where his care needs outstripped my capabilities, made the whole experience icky.

And I am beginning to howl about one subject.  Everyone in my dad's family swears I will be in a relationship again.  And I suspect they will confirm that my first college roommate was right when he said I was the marrying type.  My dad's family is full of avid gamers, and I suspect that they are making book with an over and under number related to the age of the man I will marry.

I have GOT to learn what that one is.

The long, long weekend

So, we are two days into a three day weekend.

I am enjoying the calm.  Last year at this time was so chaotic, and I am finally realizing what I went through over the past few years.  It was that rough.

I also am realizing it will take a little time to heal from the brutal first eight months of 2015.  Losing two people who I loved very much was hard.  I do cry when I am reminded of them, and have been doing a little more of that than in the past.  Probably because it is all starting to hit home now.

Other craziness.  I spoke with my cousin today, and I guess my family is making book on when I will pop up with some boy and declare I am madly in love with him and vice versa.  I guess that one started when I was in a picture with, "quite a few awfully young men," as my aunt put it.

I then explained that with regard to encounters with men in the date pool of Rick's grand nephew, I always ask up front if it bugs them that I am a maduro,  If it did, my feelings wouldn't be hurt, BUT i do want to know up front.

It's part of engaging in safe sex, which is much more than putting on a condom.

We have a date

June 9 more or less is when it is back to Baja for me - at least to set stuff up.  Afterwards it's LA Pride, an alumni event in SD and then Tijuana Pride.  After June 27, I don't know exactly what I am doing.

So at least there is some certainty until then.

In other news, I was reminded that today would have been the 78th birthday of one of my uncles.  What made me sad about the whole thing is I wish I got to know my relatives better.  Unfortunately, my late father's antics prevented that from happening.  This particular uncle played hardball with my father in that he made it quite clear that unlike what my father did, my uncle had no qualms about his son being gay.  The man also stood up for me by telling my father that he should have been busting his posterior off straightening things out with me rather than blowing me off saying I, "could not be located."  And yes, even in the late 1980s and early 1990s that would be complete BS.

I'm getting less and less angry about things, but still want to get to the bottom of what went down after I fled my parents and Texas so long ago.

But my birthday is on Tuesday and I am glad that this weekend is better than this weekend last year when I had to give the bad news that Rick's care needs outstripped my capabilities.  That was a very sad weekend.

But now, here's to future days.

Two weeks to go!

And I really can't believe it.

The good news is that Birthday Weekend this year is completely different from Birthday Weekend last year.

That was a living hell.  Rick's mental state was just getting worse and worse.  A lot of screaming and this time last year, I had to tell him that his care needs outstripped my capabilities.  I also set up an appointment to talk to someone about it.  It was really sad.  So getting set to start my summer off is nothing by comparison.  Everything is almost arranged.  The only outstanding issue is if I will buy replacement slacks from the Costco in Mission Valley or the Costco in Zona Rio.  The cost differential is not that great and this is one of those situations where crossing the border is not worth the hassle.

The clerk at Costco in Palm Desert howled when I told him I was going to Mexico.  I told him, "Don't worry.  I'll be shopping in Costco down there too!"  The clerk howled.

So all that I am waiting for is an exact date, and I might have to push the issue due to what is coming up down the line.

And I cannot wait to see mi escorpion again!

The Lag B'Omer Haircut and much more

Hooray, today is Lag B'Omer.

It is the only day during the Omer that you can get your hair cut.  So, I did.

I learned that the guy in Palm Springs who does my hair is moving out of the Fuck Pit (Resort, I meant RESORT) he set up shop in.  He should be in new quarters by August.  It really is interesting, because it caters to an older crowd that came of age in the 70s.  Even so, you can just imagine these guys imagining they are still in their 20s carrying on even though they are closer to retirement age.

It's actually nice to see. There is hope for all of us.

In other news, It looks like I might have a few dates lined up for LA Pride.  I will know more as time progresses.

Lastly, I have found something just as bad as de-gaying a house.  De-Costcoing a house.  What do I mean by that?  Well, my housemate's dad is coming to visit and housemate does not want suspicions aroused that a Costco Addict was living with him.  Which means we have to get rid of all the Kirkland Signature products that I have bought.

Guess who will be intoxicated?

Looks like I am heading back to Tijuana sometime next week.

Due to scheduling, it looks as if I will be headed back to Tijuana next week.

More news.  The trip to Guanajuato is off.  Health and logistics are not going well on that one and so the reunion has been scotched.  Sooooo, I am again toying with the idea of going to Guatemala.

I always promised the Amate I would visit.  The money won't be a problem (I'll earn it as I travel) and it would be a nice post pride break as I don't yet think I will go to SD Pride or the Del Mar Fair.  Then again, that might change if my new found corn fed Nebraska friend wants to go.

I think I'll see if he wants to have lunch and Hash House A Go Go before I trek to LA.

More to come.

Throw your hands up in the air, throw your hands up in the air.

OK, I had to intervene.

Housemate found a date to bring over.

Oh, ADD time.  I found out the extent Saturday Night was a disaster for him.  It seems the guy brought his drugs with him and only does PNP.

For the unitiated, PNP is slang for Party and Play.  It means that one can only have sex while on amphetimines.  From experience doing someone who is into it tends to be a mixed bag.  They are up, but they are not up if you know what I mean.  The date was told by the housemate no PNP and wanted to do it anyway an that was the end of the date.

I also think being a road hazard was involved.  This is because I borrowed housemate's car and the parking brake was not set.  Between driving a car with a standard transmission and living in San Francisco for 23 years it is ingratiated in me to ALWAYS set the parking brake.  So, I think he drove it to get his date to the Greyhound terminal to get him back to where he was.  How do I know?  He doesn't set the parking brake when he parks the car!  I also know he had a drink before driving.

OK, back to the story.  I was introduced and could tell that he wanted to get in the bedroom, have his drawers dropped and Do.  The.  Nasty.

Housemate wanted to chit chat.

It didn't go well.

Afterwards I told him, "I love you.  I think you can do better.  Let me wingman for you."

We will see how he reacts to the offer.  He isn't interested.

T minus 17 days and counting

Before I blow this joint for Tijuana.

Or, at least that is the ETA.  It may happen a little earlier.

For a lot of reasons, I am looking forward to the trip.  Much as I like the Coachella Valley, it has hit the point where I could use the change of scene.  I'm also looking forward to attending not one but two Pride events.  One of them, I will definitely be dateless, which should make LA Pride fun.

I am also going to Tijuana Pride.  THAT should be interesting, because it will be on what would have been Rick's 76th birthday.  The other interesting part is that it will be after Shavuot - when I get to be something resembling an eligible bachelor.  And I may have a date lined up.  AND if that doesn't work, I met a guy who could also serve as my date.

So, I have things to look forward to - and I will get about 300 Amtrak points.  BONUS.

About that last post.

Friday and Saturday were maybe a little too interesting.

Housemate found a date via an online app.  43 miles away.  And decided to pay for the Uber to get him over here.  Friday night seemed to go well for those two, and the intention was for him to stay for the weekend.

OK, he did ask me for some financial help while setting up the date, and I know why he did so.  If he had sold it to me another way, I would not have minded, but it was a little off putting.  So I meet the guy and it seemed to go well for them, however a combination of factors made me feel as if I was told, "Screw you and have a nice day."

So Saturday comes along.

I ping someone because of their handle, and ask a question related to it.

We engage in idle chit chat.

A scene is negotiated agreed to and I go off to participate.

On the way over, I am working on getting another date.

So, I do the scene and a good time is had by all in Palm Springs.

Because I had about 2 1/2 hours to kill before I knew if another date would work out.  I decided to hang out in Palm Springs.  I saw the latest in gadgets and gear, and went off to pick up some stuff I forgot during the last shopping trip.

On the way I stopped by a bar.

I met a guy, and he asked me if he wanted to play with me at his place.

I agreed.

Another good time was had by me, and afterwards I was starving.  So I got dropped off at the stop for the PS Buzz Bus and basically rode into Downtown Palms Springs in an Old School Party on wheels.  As I was starving I had dinner at a new (to me) place, and had nightcaps at Chill, Streetbar and Hunters.  At the third place I met this very handsome corn fed Nebraskan cowboy, and since he lived in San Diego, we exchanged numbers.

I headed home via Uber.

Once I got home I learned that the other guy left and headed back to Hemet because he came down from his drug induced stupor.  Or something like that.

I should have known I was in trouble when I started mentioning how my afternoon / evening went and was asked not to talk about how I went through so many substances over a seven hour period.  No, I didn't mention being in situations where there was lube and semen everywhere.  I didn't get to.

Today, I felt as if something really bad went down with that date, and the decision was made to give me the hard time over it.

Not good.

I have decided to take the approach that has worked for me the best on this one.  I will just act like the Japanese, let what happened happen and have the discussion about it tomorrow.  I do not think that anyone will be hung over, but the issue needs to be brought up.

With all that said, two good things came out of the experience.  I met two people who live in SD - one of whom I would like to hang out with some more.

More to come.

Victory. Is. Mine.

'nuff said.

Summertime

And plans are being made.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I will be having a fun summer (I hope)

I have to take care of a few things in San Diego before LA Pride and get a new FMM (visa) for Mexico.  Then I will hang out in Baja for a while, and then go to the  LA Pride extravaganza on the weekend of the 11th.  I will then return to Tijuana and hang out there throughout June (and go to the Tijuana Pride Parade.)  I will probably spend a good chunk of July back in Desert Hot Springs and head off to Guanajuato and a family reunion in August.

Once that trip is over, I think I will have my next move figured out.

But I have to get some other things taken care of right now, so I will dash.

We're going out tonight.

My housemate and I probably need to go out tonight, so we are doing it.

He made a point which I agree with.  It really is more fun to go out with someone than to do it alone.  He mentioned it when we hung out at All Worlds the other weekend and he's right.

So it's out to see what the world looks like and lord knows what else.

Film later.

Something tells me great minds think alike.

Specifically the minds of ALDI Nord and ALDI Sud.

I am not close enough to a Trader Joe's (ALDI Nord) to feed an addiction to their Avocado's Number Guacamole.

There is an ALDI in Palm Springs near where I had to run an errand at FedEx Office.

They sell guacamole.  Like Avocado's Number it is five avocados mashed up and spiced up in one package.  It also tastes about the same, and I suspect they use the same supplier.

Did I mention I enjoy seeing German Engineering at its finest there?  What really impressed me about ALDI is that they brought their packaging standards to the US so that the boxes do double duty as shelves.

And another aspect of both ALDIs in the US reminds me about Rick.  You see, most of what they stock is their own brand.  Because it is their own brand they have bigger margins.  Rick understood it and really backed off when I mentioned why grocery stores REALLY want you to buy the house brand of a product.

Now, if Soriana did a better job of recognizing that they would make more money by putting some effort in making a product that exceeded the quality of a national (in Mexico) brand, they would give me fewer frequent shopper points and have greater margins.

As an aside here is how good a job Costco does on this one.  In San Francisco I saw a mom lecture her son in either Mandarin or Cantonese (my ear is not that good to recognize the difference.)  In essence she chided her son for spending good money on a national brand of an over the counter when the Costco house brand is just as good.  He was done for, and Costco managed to get greater margins out of him because he took the advice of his Mom.

And speaking of Costco, I need to go there tomorrow.

Halfway there.

OK, we are halfway through the count of this Omer thing.

So far, so good.  It is interesting to take a few minutes to reflect.

I think that by the time Shauvot arrives, I will have taken the needed time to reflect and maybe, consider, thinking about the idea of entering into a relationship with Lucky Seven.  I do know I want one thing in the relationship.   A little honesty, because it goes both ways.

The real deal is this.  There are two people who have managed to get in the front of the line.  I have told each of them about the other.  They know what is going on and it is OK with them.

I also know a little something about myself thanks to one of them.  I now know that I cold not live with someone I did not love or care about.  I'd rather live alone.

Anyway, there have been too many interruptions and I need to get back to work.

The results are in about Austin Texas!

And they don't look good.

As you know, I did a throw down asking two specific people to give me ten reasons as to why I should think about considering the idea of possibly moving there at some point in time (like when hell freezes over.)

I got the results.

The first person who I asked to respond to my throw down said, "do you really think I would encourage anyone to move to Austin? The last thing Austin needs is more people! If anything, I would encourage people who recently moved here to leave -- especially those who don't keep Austin weird."  Obviously he is acting like that class of San Franciscan who wishes San Francsisco was just like the way it was when they first arrived during either the Summer of Love or its 70s Gay Mecca phase.  In short, he belongs to the class of people who need to grow up and realize things change.  What is really strange is that he perceives himself as some alternative hippie type even though he has  corporate job as a technical writer and has been in the same job for 23 years (more or less.)

The second one is not on Facebook because it has too many triggers.  No, I don't understand.

I ended up calling her with the throwdown challenge.  She said, "We're trying to figure out how to get out of here once your niece graduates high school."

So that leaves me to determine that the winner of the challenge is my Aunt, who made a case for my moving there.

Props to her for that!

A placeholder post

White guys, Austin, TX and much, much more are forthcoming

Tomorrow.  I promise.

Alumni Graduation Speech Two of Two.

It was ten years ago that I got my Master of Science Degree in Insurance Management from Boston University.  Because 20 years elapsed, the whole experience was different, and if I presented an alumni speech to the future alumni of BU, I would say something like this:

 Good afternoon.

I would like to thank President Brown for the introduction and remarks. I would also like to thank all of those involved in planning this event for thinking of me when it came to deciding which alumnus would receive the honor of participating in the last chance to give you, my soon to be fellow Alumni, some words of wisdom and advice.

I find it hard to believe that it was ten years ago, I was sitting where you were sitting. It was an important milestone in my life because getting my graduate degree was something I always wanted to do – and it took me 20 years to do it.

During that 20 year post receiving my Bachelor of Arts degree period, A lot of things happened.

• I had a first job that did not work out.
• I was told by my parents, “Leave and don't ever come back,” and said, “Bye.”
• I froze in Denver Colorado.
• I fell in love.
• I endured a nasty breakup.
• I moved to San Francisco
• I fell in love again.
• Seven years after graduating, I got a job in a field that became a career.
• Fourteen years after graduating, I got two professional designations.
• After all that, I got accepted into BU's Master of Science program in Insurance Management, and participated in another graduation in 2006.

Somehow over the course of 20 years, the dream didn't die. And I hope your dreams don't die too. That being said, you probably have expectations on how your dreams are going to manifest themselves. I can assure you that things won't happen the way you planned them to happen. The bad news is life isn't a straight line. The good news is that you right now are ready, willing and able to meet the challenges ahead and achieve whatever dreams, hopes and goals you aspire to right now. You will also be able to tell one heck of a story about the path to your dreams.

And please make an effort to achieve them. No one wants to hear you lament that you didn't do something – especially when you have a chance to do so. Case in point, if my late partner quit lamenting about not finishing college and actually did something about it, he would have gotten his degree!

But I would like to expand on my commentary about him. Right before my graduation, he had two rounds of emergency surgery related to his having Stage 2 Colon Cancer. Of course he wouldn't miss my commencement for the world, and managed to endure a six hour flight from San Francisco to Boston to watch the extravaganza. At the time that was not an easy task as he was still recovering from surgery, but he did it.

And became one of my heroes for it. I appreciate it and hope you appreciate the heroes in your life that have gotten you to this point and the ones you will encounter beyond this point.

One last piece of advice. Recognize and appreciate things can, must and will change. My long term relationships have evolved over the years, and the people who I have known for a long time are totally different now then when I first met them – and that is a good thing. I have also experienced a major change in that my partner died ten months ago. I embraced the opportunity to move and experience a new life – and am a better person for it. I hope you are able to do the same when you encounter major challenges.

Thank you all for taking time to hear me ramble on. I appreciate the opportunity and will put this event as one of the highlights of my BU Experience, which I hope you enjoyed as much as I did. Lastly, to my soon to be fellow alumni; to quote RuPaul, “Good luck, and don't f--- it up!”

Alumni Graduation Speech One of Two

It wasn't 30 Years ago today, but this year marks 30 years since I graduated with my BA from Trinity University.  It got me to thinking, what would I say to the Class of 2016 as a  Alumni Speaker.  I think this is what I would be saying to them as I participate in one last shot at giving some lessons / wisdom before they go out and embark on the next chapter of their lives:

 Good morning.

I would like to thank President Anderson for the introduction and remarks. I would also like to thank all of those involved in planning this event for thinking of me when it came to deciding which alumnus would receive the honor of participating in a final opportunity to impart some lessons on my soon to be fellow alumni.

Thirty years ago, I was sitting where you are now, very happy to graduate. I was also very happy once I received my diploma for two reasons. First off, it was the culmination of three and one half years of effort. Second, for the two months preceding the date, I was enduring relentless dizzy spells (maybe a bad case of Vertigo.) The second I got the diploma in my hands, they stopped.

At the time there was a song by a group called Timbuk 3 titled, The Future's So Bright. The last part of the refrain was, “The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades.”

At the time that was what I thought. I had a job waiting for me in Dallas that I thought would work out. Yes, I managed to get one during my dizzy spells and looking back probably should have waited until after I graduated to look for a job. Of course, it did not work out and I returned to Houston to live with my parents.

Then the other shoe dropped just in time for Christmas. The Reader's Digest version of the story is that my parents found out I'm Gay, and said, “Leave and don't ever come back.” There was only one thing to do at that point, and that was say, “Bye.” It was a very traumatic situation, and something I did not ever want to repeat.

Hopefully your first year after graduation will not be the disaster mine was.

But there is a lesson learned here. Life sometimes doesn't turn out the way we want it to. Here is where it gets Trinity related. First, for the year after that when I was freezing in Denver, CO; I looked at my class ring often and reflected on my time here and how it was a very good point in my life. Memories of how good the experience at Trinity was helped me get through that year when things started getting better. Second, I used what I learned at Trinity to facilitate things getting better.

In Colorado, I took a stab at getting my master's degree. Looking back, that was a very bad idea because I was not prepared to perform such an undertaking. I should have spent more time healing. Needless to say, the effort was a complete and total failure. That, along with a nasty breakup was motivation to end the chapter of my life in Colorado and start a new one in California.

Which brings me to my next point. If you have not already done so, you will fail spectacularly too. And that's okay – if and only if you learned some lessons from the failure, combine it with other things both Trinity and life has taught you and apply it to the next challenge.

It's about now, you are probably wondering if my post – Trinity life was nothing but gloom and doom. Well, it wasn't. A year after moving to San Francisco, I met someone and fell in love. I also got a career started seven years after my graduation which has served me well to this day. It was a great 24 years there and gave me the foundation to start a new life in Southern California / Baja California which I am enjoying very much. I feel fortunate that I am where I am at today – especially since it was a bit of a rough ride in the first years after Trinity to get to this point.

One last piece of advice I would like to impart on you. Things can, must and will change. I am reminded of that one on this visit to the Trinity campus as the Miller Fountain has been relocated, where I lived has been renovated and there are new and improved buildings everywhere. I'm sure that 30 years from now, Trinity will be markedly different when you (and hopefully me) visit. You will change too, and hopefully for the better. And to the parents and families who are celebrating along with my fellow soon to be alumni, I would like to assure you that these young men and women have a great foundation after studying here. Commencement was a jumping off point for the rest of my life, and I did jump off with a solid foundation.

And to my soon to be fellow alumni; to quote RuPaul, “Good luck, and don't f--- it up!”

Let's talk about Austin, Texas.

36 years ago, I was in Tenth Grade.

For the most part, my classmates resembled the class of people I had been classmates with since the Sixth Grade - bratty, rich kids who were not fond of the fact a Little Brown One was in their midst and made no bones about making that one apparent.  Confederate flags everywhere did not help matters.

Everyone wanted to go to the University of Texas at Austin.  I didn't want to be anywhere near them (which was my main driver for my ultimately winding up at Trinity University.)

Then I went to Austin a few times while I was in college.  With one exception (that is a story in and of itself) I found it to be a place where everyone was pretending not to be a redneck - even though deep down inside they were.  Did I mention people didn't (and still don't) acknowledge that the Interregional Highway (I-35) cuts through the city to reinforce the divide between The Right People and everyone else?

When I visit my darling nephew and niece who live there, I bite my tongue as I observe people pretend that they are in some liberal oasis in the middle of Texas.  It really is anything but.  Between the existing rednecks and tech bros (and their hangers on) who are either Anglo or honorary Anglo (that's Asian for the rest of you) the attitudes of their denizens really have not changed that much over the years.

Fast forward to last weekend.  Uber and Lyft paid good money to put a referendum on the ballot challenging the Austin City Council's regulations on the matter.  They lost and decided to abandon the Austin market.  Someone at National Review called Austin second rate for saying no.  I put the article on my Facebook with my comments on how Austin is overrated.

I got a reaction from a former suite mate.  It was a rant rather than a case for saying Austin really is what the hype is all about.

The throw down is coming.

I'll tell you the results.

Pre Pride Wanging and Chunging in LA

I had an interesting day driving from Desert Hot Springs to LA with my housemate running errands on his behalf.

First off props to the housemate.  He is a better passenger than Rick for this sort of thing.  Although he brought along tunes, he made it a point to bring ones I liked.  He also was for the most part the polar opposite of Rick when he was in the passenger seat.

Rick was constantly freaking out as I was driving with the flow of traffic (about 80 - 85) and letting the maniacs do their thing.  And there are some real maniacs on the road.  He also commented, "You drive like you live here."  I took that as a complement.

The housemate is too busy fiddling with the media player on his iPad, but here is what makes him the bestest passenger of all.  He actually opens the Coke for the driver so the driver can pay attention to the task at hand.

Anyway after a few really crazy days, I think I can put my nose to the grindstone and play catch up.

That should be fun.

Growl.

I have been battling Upwork.

It seems that their latest timekeeping application has hiccuped and refuses to communicate with the server.  There is now a partial resolution, but I was the one who figured out how to make a temporary fix.

I guess what is really galling me is that these people don't understand the principle of walking out working like the cell phone company does.  In any language, I have no problem with going in, and walking out with a working phone.  It seems that Upwork will just let a problem drag on and on and not really focus on solving it, even though I called phone support just to achieve this.

Sigh.

Hopefully all will be well on this front soon.

Wish me luck.

I should not have watched that video.

The story starts when Rick rode in Pacific Electric streetcars with his grandmother as a child when they went to Los Angeles in the late 1940's and early 1950s.

Ultimately Pacific Electric's rail network was dismantled and it wasn't until the Blue Line (not to be confused with the Big Blue Bus) came into being that LA had a rail system.

Fast forward to the late 1990s and early 2000s.  Thanks to Precious Sister, I was made to feel unwelcome amongst Rick's family.  Sooooo, a deal was cut.  When he visited his family, I did something else.  Sometimes that something else was Wanging and Chunging in LA.  We made it a point to fly home together from San Diego.

In many of these cases, I got around LA via city bus and rail.  The day before I was supposed to meet Rick, my routine went something like this.

• Check out of hotel.
• Take 4 or 304 (this was before the 704 Rapid) bus down Santa Monica Blvd to the Vermont and Santa Monica Red Line Station.
• Take Red Line to Union Station
• Take Pacific Surfliner to San Diego

Rick was a little envious of my taking this trip (although not at all surprised that I could get around LA on public transit.)  He never got to ride on the Pacific Surfliner and had not been inside Union Station in eons and wanted to do the trip with me one day.

Fast forward to 2014.  The Trip From Hell thanks to Precious Sister shooting her mouth off at me.  Although I was in a rage (to put it mildly) we spent one night in West Hollywood as that was part of the trip and it was already paid for.  This meant taking the La Cienega exit from the 405, and crossing under the Expo Line.

Fast forward to today.  In ten days, the extension of the Expo line to Santa Monica will open.  Today was a press preview day as Metro puts the finishing touches on the expansion.  I watched the news report thinking nothing would happen.

WRONG!

I was crying afterward.  If Rick were still alive, he would want to take a ride on the grand opening just to see what it was all about, and enjoy the fact that what is old is new again.

Which confirms one decision I made with regard to social media dating.

I disclose on my profile that I am a widower.  And I am realizing that I made the right choice because it is very, very different from being single.

Victory. Is. Mine.

OK, as a Relational Database Management System, LibreOffice Base sucks.

And it ties up resources so I cannot use the other features to get work done.

So I told the Client that I would migrate the whole mess to MySQL at no charge.  The reason for that was because I am unfamiliar with the program (I know SQL, but not the little ways of MySQL.)  Three days later, I have set up my first production MySQL database.  What a project.  That said, I will remember how to do it for the rest of my life and can add knowledge of MySQL to my resume.

A couple of takeaways here.

First, you CAN teach an old dog (particularly this old dog) new tricks.  I feel I have done my part to bust the Silicon Valley Myth that anyone over 25 is unable to adapt to new realities.  Millenials who are taking their parents advice (or is that grandparents) to never trust (or hire) anyone over 30 should take note.  But I don't think they will.

Second, my housemate thought I sounded like a white guy when I mentioned why I was soooo happy.  Umm, since when was figuring out computer stuff a white only thing?  I started my career in insurance in the IT shop, and lived and breathed SQL and Visual Basic for seven years.  During this time I got my CPCU and one of my IT colleagues said, "You do realize you can basically write your own ticket and live life on your own terms."

Then again, Rick got it right one day at the doctor, when he remarked, "I have no idea what he does to earn a living," whilst at Stage 4 of dementia.

I chuckled and mentioned to the doctor, "Actually no one has a clue as to what I do for a living," and told him of some of the projects I was involved in.

Finally, "I Will Survive," should be my theme song.  I managed to get this thing done even though I started one notch above zilch.  I have also manage to make it since my parents told me, "You are a sick pervert.  Leave and don't ever come back," at age 22.

Which means that today I asked G-d for the ability to forgive my mother, or that the wounds heal with the passage of time.

Yes, Mother's Day was a rough one for me.  But not as rough as the one Rick went through when Precious Sister called his Mom an  alcoholic after she put her order in to go to a restaurant where she could have a glass of wine with lunch.  According to Rick's blow by blow, both him and his mother were upset over that one, and they went out to salvage the day.

Maybe we need a happier story.  The Mother's Day after his mom died was fun.  We went to church, and afterwards went out to lunch and enjoyed seeing the day celebrated the SF way.  Gay guys taking their moms out, and kids of Lesbian moms doing the same thing.

Of course, I washed that one down with a Greyhound.

My Old School

I grew up in Houston, Texas and went to Robert E. Lee High School.

Yes, there were Confederate Battle Flags.

Last year, the Houston Independent School District's Board decided that the name needed to be changed along with the names of a few other schools named after heroes of the Confederacy.

Because Billy Gibbons went there, I was hoping for ZZ Top High School.   That would really give people apoplexy because a lot of ZZ Top songs cover themes that are beyond PG.  And this is Texas.

But a drill team doing its stuff while the band plays, "Legs," would be interesting.

That said, if the Trustees approve the measure on May 12, the school will be renamed, "Margaret Long Wisdom High School."

At least the timing is perfect. The replacement building should be up and running in time for the new school year.

Technical difficulties

If it isn't one thing it is another on the technical difficulties front.

First, my using LibreOffice Base to solve problems hit major snags which means doing it in MySQL.  Someone is getting a lot of free work, BUT I will probably never forget how to set something up in MySQL - A good thing.

Then my phone froze.  With the help of a YouTube video, I unfroze it. - A good thing.

There is an outstanding issue about a file not properly uploading.  The bug has been reported, but I haven't heard anything.  What is strange is that the application is used 24/7 by people who freelance and need to get paid.  The culprit is a timesheet.  You would think the customer service would be 24/7 as well.  Sigh.

Maybe I will solve the problem before they do.

And I am getting the administrative stuff done - A good thing.

See a thread here?  I have gotten more and more zen like about stuff that goes wrong.

And I know why.

Because Rick died at home, I was the one who first noticed that he was dead.  I said the appropriate prayers, made a keriah tear in my shirt and got the ball rolling on disposition of Rick's remains.  At that point, I also realized that going forward, hiccups, problems and whatnot are nickel - dime stuff when it comes to the big picture.

So, I am just plugging away at solutions.

And five more weeks to go.

It's Just So Wrong

As my bank account got replenished today, I did some shopping at Wal Mart in Palm Springs and Costco in Palm Desert.  To get from Wal Mart to Costco, you go down Dinah Shore Drive.

I was driving a Honda.

If I am driving down Dinah Shore Drive,  I expect to hum, "So make a date today, and see the USA, and see it in a Chevrolet!" instead of, "Follow the leader.  He drives a Honda."

But this misadventure also reminds me of two things that entertain me about the area.  First, I am in the land where we have Dinah Shore Dr.,  Bob Hope Dr., Kirk Douglas Way, Gene Autry, Tr., and other streets named after figures from Hollywood's past.  In one way, it's campy.  In another way it's cool.

The other thing is that in Mid Century Modern Palm Springs, there are people who drive cars of the same era as daily drivers.  In most cases, the cars are well cared for and the owners love to receive complements.  I am thinking of doing the same thing, but I will make sure they did the environmentally correct R134a conversion for the air conditioner.

What did you expect? we are in California.

German Engineering.

Here is your weird factoid of the day.

The only place in the world where Aldi Nord and Aldi Sud compete against each other is the United States.  In their native Germany, Nord has the northern half (and Trader Joe's products because it owns Trader Joe's in the US) and Sud has the southern half.  This was after a spat between Albrechts over selling cigarettes in the store.

Palm Springs has an Aldi.  Cathedral City has a Trader Joe's.  I think you would come out even on a grocery run.

There is, however, one big difference.  Aldi makes its suppliers engineer the box in such a way that it does double duty as shelving.  I find it to be German Engineering at its finest, and it fascinates me as much as the time Mercedes - Benz rolled out the 1981 S Class models with a power seat controller shaped like a car seat.

Microaggressions

One of the blogs I follow is that of David Tuttle, who is the Dean of Students at my Alma Mater Trinity University.  It seems that one student group wanted a speaker to provide another perspective on my least favorite subject - microaggressions.

I have a vague idea of what one is because of one question that is asked of me by Anglo folk in the US when they look at my business card with a middle and last name that is obviously Spanish and ask me, "What country are you from?"

As I understand this, this can be construed as a microaggression.  The rationale behind it being a microagression is that the question is asked out of malice in that a Latino working in some sort of professional capacity could not possibly be from the United States (and how did having to encounter a Latino guy in our precious All Anglo All the Time Enclave happen in the first place?)

As I also understand it, I should call the asker on it and scream that they are nothing less than a complete bigot and afterwards run away and cower into my nearest safe space.

Really?

I just answer the question honestly.  I say, "Texas."

That shuts them up real fast.

We are now resuming our regularly scheduled programming.

But first, let's talk about the fact that I am basically a cheapskate.

For a long time in my early adulthood, I was basically broke, and living a hand to mouth existence.  I learned how to live on very little money, and to this day I am not really all that materialistic.  And that aspect was amped up big time as I dismantled the apartment.  It really is just stuff.

That being said, I got my arm twisted by my housemate to spend the weekend at All Worlds / Inn Exile in Palm Springs.  

OK, it was a little pricey, but we had a good time there.  And I learned that we see eye to eye on the idea that you don't do stuff like that alone.  Although it would SOUND as if it would be a good idea in light of the fact many people go to engage in NC-17 activity with strangers, it's really not the case.  First you need to compare notes.  Second a wingman is useful in this situation.

My housemate and I sleep in separate bedrooms, but I will also admit to one thing.  I like sleeping in the same bed with him!  It is a nice feeling (especially since damnit he is a great guy who is nice to cuddle with.)  Worst case scenario, I got practice in sleeping with others.

And it was probably worth the money because we both needed the break.

Just a quick hi.

Yes, I missed Thursday and Saturday.

Right now I am thrilled that I am sharing a bed with an attractive man.

More later.