When you experience a breakup, especially if you both feel that continued contact is important, it is vital to stop tearing each other up. It isn't good for either of you Do you each need to be introspective about what you've done wrong and right, about how you behaved, yes.
Should you learn from any mistakes that were made, yes. But, if you continue to tear yourselves up
over what was supposed to be something good (the love you shared), all that will do is taint it and ruin it.
If you've loves someone and it was a 'good' love, it seems to me that together or not there is a need for the love to have meant
something. No matter how things ended up, it is important that the love was a
'good' love, a healthy one, and one that deserves to be cherished. I am sorry
if believing those things make me seem like a needy desperado, but this is what I believe.
For
all the pain and heartache I am experiencing with then end of my relationship (or at least the romantic part thereof) I am currently experiencing, I wouldn't trade it what we had. I just wouldn't. Being with him didn't make me happy, nobody could do that.
But, being in that relationship allowed me to express the happiness I bury deep inside. No
relationship is perfect, and breakups are almost never so. And, perhaps with
the distance in time, things seem much 'rosier' than they actually were. But,
being with him brought a joy and spirit that my life was sorely lacking. He made me feel
sexy, made me take myself less seriously, and made me experience new
things. And, the most important: he seemed to 'get' me. He was able to look past the gruff, grumpy, rumpled, old military officer to find the loving person I tend to hide. With all of he turmoil and chaos we are currently experiencing, during all of our introspection, I am pushing that we don't forget all the good things. It is important for those things to have been real.
after you were mine, I wondered what happened after you were mine. but.no. not mine. not a shrewd as belonging, not as finite as possession- rather I borrowed you for a while, but less like the replacement for some faulty appliance more like a treasured acquisition - a tome, housed in a library somewhere I’ll never visit but might think of on some idle morning as the kettle boils and letters drop forlornly to the mat and I catch myself…sometimes…I’m thinking - on a rainy weekend or a broken tuesday which seems fit for little else - wondering where you are, and who’s borrowed you now who’s inhaling the scent of your pages and adding a sentence or two. in a cursive script, much neater than mine. i remember the shape of you, sketch the illustration, but blur the edges imagine a technicolor version where there was really only a limited palate as limited as my own at the time. but we painted each other in primary tones, stuck to the lines, caring nothing for the shades and the scribbles that would follow with time and with age. i kept you intact for a while, painstakingly guarding your covers then passed you on a good sport to someone else, who could decipher your wisdom, a specialist in text I couldn’t read any more after you are mine, I wondered. who you’d lend yourself to and hoped his hands were clean.
COMMENT: I came across this video on Youtube, then searched for this poem which appears at the end of the video. The poem struck me very intensely. I am not much for poetry, but sometimes a poem (or a song, or a video, or other piece of art) just hits the mark about how you feel or think about something that is happening or has happened in your life. For me, this immediately evoked my feelings about Sam and the new bloke to whom he has 'lent' himself. I hope that bloke realizes how lucky is he. I knew how lucky was I when I, "borrowed" Sam for a time.
One of the things that is hardest to do is too look someone in the eye that you feel you've wronged in some way. It can cause embarrassment or shamed or wounded pride. In experiencing any of these feelings, or other related feelings, it is important not to resent the person. Self preservation often makes people 'blame the victim.' Natural it might be, health it isn't. If someone loves you, if he has any level of maturity, will likely believe those feelings are unnecessary.
If the love is/was real, you will remain, right or wrong, a major
part of his life. You may moving onward and upward, and perhaps chaos, turmoil, and recrimination may be a way of breaking the emotional ties that bind the two of you together. Again, not healthy.
If, having hurt someone without meaning to do so, you may believe you don't deserve continued love or connection. You may even somehow come to
resent the 'lover' for being willing to continue loving you, even though you've caused so much pain. Well, those feelings are on you. I wrote recently in my
blog that I am someone that needs to give love. Granted, I'd like to be someone
who is loved, but to me that is secondary to the giving of love. Needing to give love is a powerful thing. For me, I continue to love and care about each of the men I've loved. Maybe that is
selfish on my part. Maybe in a way, by taking out the need to give love, it cause too much
pressure and strain, making an end to the connection harder.
I don't know. For me, though, telling someone I love them means that I do. I am the one, for heaven's sake, who lives in a house 80 feet away from the man I spent 10 years with, who dumped me for some borderline, retarded, nelly, skeez with whom he took up while I was away at the war. Yet, we still see each other regularly and he even keeps one of the cars (and a couple of assorted motorcycles) in may garage. Weird, perhaps. But, for me love may change, but it never disappears entirely.
At least, that is what THIS DADDY thinks.
Lee Fields and the Expressions, "Still Hanging On"
As you all know, if you read this blog with any frequency, I am currently undergoing some turmoil with the lad I have loved. While we are no longer a couple, and he has found someone new, we are struggling to define what is our new relationship and how we fit into the lives of the other. During our heart wrenching conversations, we've talked about a range of topics, a big one being forgiveness. the Forgiveness Factor posts represent how I feel about forgiveness, in the context of our relationship.
While it hasn't been sought, the topic of whether or not I can be forgiving of any hurt I may be experiencing has been front and center in our discussions. I don't think he needs my forgiveness. If
he loved me (or still does, in one way or another), and he was sincere in that love, no matter how it
played out or other issues that revolved around it, it is the love that is important, not the havoc.
We all make mistakes and we all act in ways that meaning to or not hurt others.
It is human. If he wants my forgiveness, he can have it. It is freely offered and
freely given. In Christianity, and in most other major religions, in one form or another, one
of the major tenets is 'treat others as you treat yourself.' I know if he'd
been hurt by something I said or did, no matter how I intended it, I would want his understanding and his forgiveness. So, I am trying to treat him as I would like to be
treated myself. I need to stop being so
judgmental and self-righteousness. I also need to learn not be so 'blaming' and
so obsessive about past injuries. It isn't healthy for me and I just don't have
the strength. I don't want to lose his respect, and if being forgiving (or
feeling like forgiveness isn't required) causes him to lose respect for me,
makes me seem like a wimp, or a desperado, well that is his issue to deal with,
not mine.
In an effort to be charming (hey, I am Irish-Italian, it comes with the job), I once posted a dating ad on Craigslist entitled, "Pre-geezer seeks Post Adolescent." Me, being an older guy who dates younger ones of course, being the "Pre-geezer." Well (cue the music from the theme of Hawaii 5-0, boys and girl), I am no longer a "Pre-geezer," I am the real deal...
I am not really sure how to feel about becoming a "senior." I mean, I still look pretty good (well, except for being so fat), my man parts still all work (not that there is anybody around for me to use them with, alas). I have a steady job, a nice house, a crazy job. So things should be jake.
Alas, not so much. In the last couple of years, I've written about how much I was learning to enjoy aging, how happy I was. This year, I am definitely struggling to keep up that attitude.
As I've said before, I like having gray hair. I think, especially now that I am wearing it longer, it makes me look distinguished. I continue to appreciate things in ways
in which I wasn't capable, when I was younger. And, as almost anybody
who knows me can tell you, I am altogether a better man.
At 48, I had someone I loved and who loved me. At 49, he left for grad school on the East Coast, starting a new life, without me, including the act of falling love with someone else. As I turn 50, having not had a decent date in a year, continuing to miss the big dork like you wouldn't believe, and for many other reasons, it strikes me as likely that was the last 'great' love of my life. Am I glad I experienced it, you bet your ass. For all the pain I am experiencing now, I wouldn't change a minute of it. But, having had what seemed like such a 'good' love, it seems highly unlikely that I'll be blessed with such again.
At 48, I was in fine health. At 49 I became diabetic, started having high blood pressure, and my cholesterol numbers were dismal. At 50, despite exercise and pills, this things are still issues.
Turning 48, I had a job I loved, though a boss I hated. At 49, I
liked my boss, but my position had changed, my duties downgraded, and my
FTE cut to 60%. As I turn 50, it looks like using the LEAN process over which I presided, may have resulted in me writing myself out of a job. How crazy is that?
We
all go through periods during which we struggle. I tend to struggle with the '9' years. 49 was definitely a '9 year' in a big, big way. I continue to wonder whether going
through all of this stuff seems harder because I am older (as is having the
measles,
which is gets harder the older one gets), or having had such a good couple of years, I've just forgotten what a couple of really bad years feels like and am therefore out of practice as to how to best deal with them.
Like last year, I have the
experience to know, 'this too shall pass', so that is good, I guess. I also still have a
house (though it is old and falling apart) and a crazy dog I
love. Then, when I wrote about my birthday, I wrote that I wasn't sure I'd ever felt this lost before. My wonderment on that subject remains.
As I said last year, "Life
is, as we all know, all about transitions, some good, some not so good.
There really isn't that much we can do about it. Understanding this is a
lesson we can all do a better job of learning, I know I sure could. I'm
working on it but man, is it tough right now." And work on it I did. Alas, this past year all I seem to have done is swim against the current, without making any significant progress. And, I am not sure how to feel about that. I mean, it isn't like I have that many years left these days, now is it?
At least that is what THIS DADDY thinks.
The Ventures LIVE ON STAGE 2000!!! ...in Washington. Nokie Edwards; Bob Bogle; Don Wilson; and Leon Taylor
I received the following email from a kind and thoughtful reader. I have no idea if it is original prose or not. But, he was kind enough to send it in response to some of my postings, so I'd like to share it with the other readers.
... read your latest...
... blog post...
... with a bit of identification...
... and more than a bit...
... sadness...
... having been on both...
... the much more often "not able"...
(... too given to wandering to anchor thus...)
... and the longing...
(... sometimes wishing against that wind...)
... ends...
... i know the entirety sucks...
... far, far more than a cheap salve...
... of ill-quoted Tennyson...
... can soothe...
... even if it be sooth adamant...
... and i certainly have not...
... learned where to yield...
... do i submit a wiser mind...
... and a wizened heart...
... or shall i prepare...
... to judge myself a fool...
... if ripened heart is the harvest...
... of conceit indiscriminate...
... and while being content...
... to gather the manna of the day...
... and hope not to carry over...
... may be spiritually mature...
... it seems i may be contentious built...
... truly wanting a long sabbath...
... alas...
... i shall pray found that...
... balance...
... of desire and require...
... so that heart and mind...
... grow strong, fruitful...
... and wish beyond hope...
... that challenges as yours...
... are again presented...
... in the blog here...
l**** Daddyhunt, October 2 at 4:33am
Doing nice things for another, known or unknown, enriches the soul. We are, after all. All in this together. Right?
Boy can I confirm the truth of this statement. It's been over a year since my last relationship ended. You know, the one about which I often write. For all the brave talk of how I understood from the beginning that he was too young (24 when we met), neither ready, nor interested in having a relationship, and that I understood those facts, and when into the relationship anyway. That talk has turned out to be so much hot air.
One of the reasons it ended was his 'need' to not be in a relationship. He had 'things to work out' which he insisted made it (in addition to the things I mentioned above) impossible for him to be in a relationship with romantic or long-term overtones, with me or anybody else. He never really explained why (or more correctly when attempting to explain it, never clearly articulated the reasons) this was the case. Well, apparently it wasn't that he was incapable of being in a relationship...it was that he was incapable of being in a relationship with me.
From the day we met, he made it clear he didn't like Seattle and that he intended to move to Boston, as Boston was his version of, the Emerald City from, 'The Wizard of Oz.' Well, I guess that has turned out to be true. In a year he has conquered all of his issues, is not only ready to be in a relationship, but has apparently been in one for several months. A fact just revealed to me last night.
I am experiencing this revelation as powerfully as if it was the original break up. I didn't sleep last night, I've been on the verge of tears all day. Sigh, this behavior is totally ruining my butch, gruff, military officer persona. The worst thing...I still love him and want nothing but his happiness. Even after arguing on Skype for nearly 3 hours last night, my heart in tatters, those desires remain true.
As with his inability to articulate his reasons for being incapable of being in a relationship, he has been inarticulate in explaining his need for our continued contact. Despite our break up, we've remained very close. We text, email, talk on the phone, and Skype regularly. Almost every contact ends with one or the other of us telling the other how much we miss and still love the other. In order to support this life transition he has made, I've let it be up to him how much contact we have. I am rarely the one to initiate it. Still, as happens in situations like these, there has been the occasional drunk text (or perhaps late night, insomnia-related, exhaustion enduced text) in which I've broken down and declared my continued love and desire for him.
We have both stated that being a couple made each of us a better person. I am glad he feels that way, and I am certainly glad to feel the same. I have a history of dating guys who were 'novices' in relationship, or just coming off a really bad relationship. So the relationship wasn't so much about wanting to be with me, rather it was more about the individuals being surprised that someone could and would love them. I was more representative of something, not the personification of something. That said, I thought this relationship was different. I thought we were together because we wanted to be, not because either of us 'needed' to be. I guess I was wrong.
Okay, as odd as it may seem, I know my anger will dissipate and our relationship will continue it its odd way. I know he has a big place in my life. He has had such a place since we met and he probably will for years to come. He is, for example, coming to Seattle in the near future and I hope to see him then. Granted, I was hoping we'd do more than hang out, but that isn't possible now that he is in love with and committed to someone else. I respect that. I do. I think I know how his boyfriend would feel if he knew Sam was coming here and was going to sleep with me. To this day the idea of someone else having sex with Sam makes me want to throw up. I imagine the new guy would feel the same. I know now that he is serious about someone else, his interest and need for contact with me will diminish, and the memories of our time together, for him will fade. But will I remain always glad to get a text, a phone call, and email, or have a Skype session with him, sure. Because I care about Sam, I am glad he has resolved his 'issues' and is having a happy life.
I've written before about the need for 'daddies' to understand that a relationship with a younger man is likely not a 'forever' relationship. That if one doesn't understand that or isn't strong enough to deal with that fact, perhaps one shouldn't be dating a younger man. I guess when I look at it objectively, it isn't him at whom I am so mad, rather, it is I at whom I am angry. As the old saying goes, 'there is no fool like an old fool.' When he first mentioned that he was coming back for a conference and he wanted to see me (and sleep with me) I was thrilled. I made plans to get a full HIV and STD screening during my upcoming 'old guy' physical. I planned to work out more, have the house cleaned, and the dog groomed, so that we'd all look good for him when he came. How ridiculous is that? I mean, it was kind of silly before, but now knowing he is with someone else, well....
This is where the being an old fool comes in. I don't feel like a fool for loving Sam, I could never feel that way. I certainly am glad that we had our time together. I've never felt so comfortable with anybody, never been so consistently happy, never been more the 'best' of me I could be. I wouldn't change the scenario for the world. Though, I admit, during our argument I said both of those things to try and hurt him. As they say, though, 'if you can't do the time, don't do the crime.' I didn't mean either of those things and he didn't seem to (I hope he didn't) really believe that I meant them. (Author's note: back in the day he occassionally read this blog, so I hope if he reads this entry he will pay attention to this part and the part about our continued contact, and not focus so much on the other stuff.)
As much as I thought I would survive and thrive when he left, it turns out I was wrong. I haven't been on a decent date since he left. As much as I have always enjoyed sex, these days, on the rare occasions I have it, it just doesn't quite measure up...because it is not with him and not the way we did it. The guys have been sexy, the sex (for the most part) has been fine, but the intensity and feelings that Sam and I shared just weren't there.
I am tired of being the 'training wheels' for guys. It isn't what I want and it isn't what I deserve. So, what is about me that attracts guys that seek that and why am I attracted to those guys. I just don't know. And, at my age, it is humiliating and embarrassing not to know. I feel like your time together was more of a 'fad' for him than anything else, sort of like the interest in vegan cooking, late night jazz clubs, having a full cocktail bar, being a child advocate, etc. I mean, he was sincere in each one of those fads, until he wasn't. Sam keeps telling me that I am spinning our relationship in the worst possible light. He keeps insisting that he did love me, that I was important to him, and that I remain so. Maybe he is right. Maybe I am just not mature enough (despite my advanced age) or far enough away from the situation to see those things as being true. I just don't understand how can he so easily and quickly have made the transition from loving me, to loving someone else. I haven't been able to do so. I told him last night (well, I didn't express it exactly this way, but...) that I felt like a character from the book, "He's just not into you." A character whose boyfriend breaks up with them because he just isn't 'ready', then three months later the character learns he is engaged. Whether or not he is right or I am, my logic and emotional systems just can't understand it. Perhaps I never will, which leaves me with the impression that our relationship wasn't serious to him and that there is clearly something wrong with me. I am trying to see his side of the argument, but I just can't.
I wrote in a recent post that it wasn't so much that I was looking for love, or seeking to be loved, as I was looking to give love. I guess I was wrong. Or, perhaps, not quite right. Am I glad that he still 'loves' me, sure. Am I, despite my inability to see it, glad that I remain important to him, sure. But when is it my turn to be someones 'the one?' When do I get to stop being the relationship training wheels for others? I am beginning to think that time will never come. As much as I try to remain positive, at my age, I am not sure I have the emotional strength or physical energy to keep putting myself out there. What is it they say, "what is the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and yet expecting a different result."
At least, that is what THIS DADDY thinks.
Billy Joe Shaver is a Texas country music singer and songwriter. Shaver's 1973 album Old Five and Dimers Like Me is a classic in the outlaw country genre.
I've often wondered. The older I get (and boy am I old, I turn 50 a month from now), it seems the younger the lads get. Having been back in the dating pool for over a year now (though at the shallowest end of the pool) the only guys from whom I receive any attention are guys young enough to be my son. Seriously, I get hit on by guys who are 20 or 21...there was even one young sailor, 19 years old, who expressed interest in getting into my pants.
Now, I prefer younger guys, of course, and Sam was 24 when we met (I was 46). But Sam is a special, 'young' man, so the vast age difference wasn't a real issue for us. He wasn't looking for a parent, he didn't want someone to 'take care' of him. He wanted to have sex with me because he found me sexy, not because I was 'nice' or 'stable', etc. It, the age difference, had ramifications, of course (he didn't want to introduce me as his boyfriend to some of his friends for fear they'd think it was too weird he was dating an old dude, his compulsion to move to Boston for graduate school because he 'had' to do so, etc.), but it (the age difference) didn't really have an impact on our day to day lives together. It didn't interfere. We were just as attracted to each other the day we parted as the day we met, we still loved being together, the sex was still fulfilling, etc. Those things said, though, I am more than willing and anxious to acknowledge that under most circumstances, a 22 year age difference (when the younger guy is in his 20's and the older one in his 40's) is not the best marker of a successful, long term relationship.
So, my question is: where are the hot guys in their late 20's to late 30's who were 'boys' at 21? Are they all taken? Are they no longer interesting in 'boying'? I can't figure it out. As I've written before, I think guys can continue to be boyish into their 40's. My ex (the one who lives 80 feet away from the little house on the Big Lake), at 45, is still quite boyish. I recently went on a date with a really hot Brazilian boy, aged 39 and he is very boyish...okay, he does have a bald spot, but still. He was boyish as all get out.
So, where do all the 'older' boys go? As someone approaching the big 50, I am acutely aware that my dating options, whether I like it or not, are dwindling. But, I still think I have a great deal to offer. I am a much better person than I was at 30 (ask Sam, he'll confirm it for you). I am calmer, more patient, much easier going. I have a nice home (messy and a bit down at heel, but still nice), a good job, a crazy dog, etc. One would think I'd be a hot commodity. Heck, if I was a straight guy, I'd have chicks crawling all over me.
I am not now, nor was I when I met Sam, expecting to have a 'serious' relationship with someone more than a generation younger than myself. It was a surprise to me that the best relationship I'd ever had was with someone so much younger and so different. But, as I said, that was a special case and Sam is a special young man. I am not living on pins and needles awaiting another hot 24 year old, with a hot ass, nice feet, who is a total bottom, and loves to call me, 'Daddy' during special intimate moments. If I was, I'd likely be setting myself up for disappointment. No matter what the age, finding a great love is hard.
Is it unrealistic to think that there are tall, skinny, bottom boys in their 30's, with nice feet and nice asses around? I shouldn't be. But for some odd reason I am finding it so.
In a few weeks I turn 50. Turning 50 is sort of a major milestone, a least in our culture. For me this milestone is made even more poignant by the recent death of an old and cherished friend.
Mo and I knew each other for nearly 30 years. When we met as young sailors, each just leaving active duty to join the reserves. We could not have been more different...me: short, stocky, homely, loud, obnoxious, impetuous, gay as a goose; him: tall, slender, blond, handsome, calm, poised, elegant, yet we became friends. As the years passed, our military careers sometimes intersected (we both became reserve officers) and diverged (I changed career fields, he returned to active duty), yet, we always close.
Mo is the one who taught me to love beer and baseball. We were there for each other through successful relationships and not so successful relationships. As the years past, we became mature sailors, our military careers flourishing. Yet in some small way we remained, at least when together, the young sailors we felt ourselves to be in our hearts. We talked about the Navy's Core Values (Honor, Courage, Commitment), values he exemplified. We talked beer and baseball. We talked about leadership and mentorship. We had many a long discussion about how screwed up is the Navy (at least sometimes) and the ways in which we just knew we could make the Navy better, if they'd just appoint put us in charge. While the Navy, she is a harsh mistress, we both loved her with a passion. As we neared retirement, we looked forward, as old sailors tend to do, to drinking beer, watching baseball, and sharing old sea stories with each other.
Alas, that will not happen. Brave, humble, poised, showing grace until the end, he passed away in the arms of Virginia, the love of his life last Friday.
I found out he was ill in January, ironically at the funeral of another old shipmate. Not wanting to worry us (the 'us' being me and some other close Navy buddies) he pulled us aside and said, "I know this is an awkward time, but I am not sure when I'll see you all at the same time in the same place. But, I have to tell you, I have cancer." We were all shocked. He was as tall and handsome as ever. He was calm and upbeat about his prognosis. He assured us we needn't worry. He'd keep in touch and let us know how he was doing. As recently as March, when I had them (Maurice and Virginia) over to dinner, he looked good. Playing down his illness, positive he could win his battle with cancer, he was as funny and joyful as always.
It was a surprise, therefore, to receive a text from Virginia in June telling me he'd been in the hospital for 9 days and might not leave it. She encouraged me to visit him. Visit him I did. Ironically, my office is located in the building next to and attached to the hospital in which he was staying. He was literally just about 200 yards down the hallway from where I work. I took great advantage of that closeness. I tried to visit every day, two or three times a day. We laughed, we told stories, we talked beer and baseball, and we laughed some more. We did all the things we hoped to do together as old sailors.
As the days passed, he weakened. Yes, as he did everything, he dealt with the progression of his illnes with grace and poise. When asked he had any unfinished business, his response (so, I am told), "No, I've had a wonderful life." Later, when told there was nothing else to be done, he thanked his doctors and other caregivers for their efforts on his behalf.
Still mentally aware, he actively discussing options (home hospice care, movement to a treatment center, etc.) with his family. His goal, to spend as much time as remained with those he loves. One day, while visiting, I was talking to his family and sort of out of the side of my mouth gently teasing him, 'You KNOW how bossy he is...' and such. Exhausted, lying in bed, eyes closed, he'd been listening to every word, still capable of grinning at being teased.
When I was leaving, his parents came to speak with me. They started to talk about funeral arrangements and
such. He was to receive, as he well deserves, a funeral with full military honors. While I appreciated knowing the plans and moved by how he wants his wishes carried I was also not willing to give in. So, I told his parents, "The last time I wore my Blues was to the funeral of another old friend. I know I'll need to have them cleaned and pressed, so I look sharp at Maurice's funeral (he'd never forgive me if I didn't.) But, I am unwilling to take them to the cleaners just yet, as that seems like sending a karmic message of defeat. I don't want to do it until I have to. And, right now, I don't and I am planning still being at least a while before I do." I am not really sure any of us knew how soon it would turn out to be.
When I last saw him, he remained mentally aware, but had very little energy. He was spending most of his time lying in bed, with his eyes closed. During my time there, he woke from a deep sleep (I could tell he was asleep, because he was jerking like a dog does when he has 'doggy dreams'), but remained lying back with his eyes closed. I said, "Maurice, are you awake?" His eyes popped open and he cracked, "God, I hope so" then smiled and went back to sleep. This was to be the last time we spoke.
As the life of any military officer, your personal life takes a back seat to your professional life. In this case, as his illness reached its end, I was sent by the Navy on active duty in Hawaii. Before I was to leave, I told him I would be away for a few weeks and that he needed to promise me that he'd still be around when I came home. As these things happen, his poor body wore out and he died before the end of my tour.
While it was suggested that I cut my trip short, I know that Mo would never forgive me for shirking my duty by leaving my assignment early, even to attend the funeral of a valued and beloved friend. So, I'll be on watch, well, just having completed a 12 hour mid-watch, when his services occur. I've already spoken to Virginia and told her that I'll be observing a moment of silence to coincide with the services. It seems the least I can do to honor my old friend.
So, what do you do when the person you always wanted to be when you grow up dies? I wish I could tell you. I could spout a bunch of cliches about finding joy in some form or another every day. I could tell you to hug the ones you love and remember to tell them how much you love them as often as you can. Death affects us each differently and we experience differently with each one that occurs and at which age it is when we experience it. Perhaps when I've had more time to process my friend's passing, I'll have more sage advice to give. At the moment though, other than to spout the above cliches, I don't.
At least, that is what THIS DADDY thinks.
Uploaded by TraavikInfo on Feb 1, 2012
A-ha's eternal pop evergreen performed by young accordeon players from KUM SONG School, filmed in Pyongyang, North Korea december 2011. Part of multi-genre project THE PROMISED LAND by director and artist MORTEN TRAAVIK.
Oh, for those of you who won't get the connect, don't worry about it. It is an inside joke between Maurice and I. He'd get it and laugh and laugh and laugh. Fair winds and following seas, my friend.
by: RobHeartsDH, published on the website, "Daddyhunt"
New York City is probably one of the best places for a gay man to be
single. It's also one of the worst to be single and looking for a
serious relationship. Then again, I thought that Pittsburgh was a
terrible place to be a single relationship seeking gay man, and now it's
on a list of the Top 10 Cities Where Gay Singles Are Looking For Marriage And Kids.
Keep in mind, this list doesn't tell you the best places to secure a
man seeking a serious relationship, but rather where the men are looking
for one. Whether it's lack of options or lack of focus, it seems that
all the friends I talk to around the world are unhappy with where they
live in regards to being a single gay man. I've thought about leaving
NYC more than a few times, but wonder if the city is really the problem.
So I ask, do you feel that where you live has negatively or positively affected your dating life?
AB-SO-LUT-EL-Y! Every city or region seems to have both a 'type' and a requirement to either live up to that type or to find that type appealing. When I was stationed at Pearl Harbor, for example, I'd be at Hulu's (the sort of 'main' gay bar there, at least when I lived there) and I would frequently run into Haoles (non-locals) just moved to the Islands from the Mainland complaining that they weren't interested in dating, 'orientals.' Okay, ignoring the fact these Haoles were being racist by using a word which describes carpets to describe people, exacerbated by the fact that they were lumping people of all sorts of different ethnic types into some kind of amalgamation, they were basically excluding a large majority of the folks they were likely to meet from their dating options. Face it, Hawaii has a lot of Hapa (mixed race) or Pacific Rim guys. Just like Miami is full of hot Cubanos or Latinos and Atlanta is full of hot African-American guys, Honolulu is full of hot Pacific Rim or Hapa guys.
I have a similar experience now that I live in the little house by the big lake here in Seattle, except I am now the one living in the place where there are few of the types of guys I find appealing and lots of guys I don't. Seattle is Bear-central. The 'look' here is stocky, hairy, 10 years older than you are, balding with a beard (or heaven forbid a goatee) worn to hide a double chin or make up for some perceived lack of masculinity. Not my thing at all. Not. Did I mention that Bears aren't my thing? First, before the flaming starts, let me make it clear: there is nothing wrong, nor do I intend to suggest there is anything wrong with Bears or bearish guys. Not one little thing. As a bearish guy myself, I am glad as heck that some guys find thick, furry, older guys appealing. I just don't happen to be one of them. Again, Bears (or chubs or older) DOES NOT EQUAL BAD. Those types are just not to my tastes. That said, you should read and hear the abuse that I take when I am online or if I post a personal ad seeking social interactions for living in a Bear town and not finding Bears appealing, especially since I am bearish myself. The mania and sensitivity around Bears and the focus on them here borders on the bizarre. If you have the gaul to admit you aren't into bearish guys, you are immediately accused of only being into twinks (as if there were only two types of guys) and somehow thinking you are all that and a bag of chips. If I didn't live here and hadn't experienced it for myself, I'd never believe it. In Seattle older is not encouraged to date younger; smooth are not encouraged to date hairy; opposites of any kind are strictly forbidden to date. It is the RULE. Okay, a short Bear is sometimes allowed to date a tall one, but that is about the extent of the 'flexibility' found here.
So, yes, living in Seattle and the culture and 'look' that exists here have a major impact on dating for me. They always have (before you ask: I've lived here much of my adult life...state job, elderly parents, (former) partner, little house by the big lake, etc. are what keep me here) and likely always will. Seattle is a notoriously cold and unfriendly place, polite, yes, friendly no. I think it has to do with the high tech environment here...people who flock here just feel more comfortable chatting online or texting rather than dealing with each other in person. So you add that to the restrictive 'type' orientation here, and bingo...dating sucks.
Dating is hard anyplace. But, boys and girls, I defy you to find a place where dating is harder than it is here in Seattle. I dare you,
