Superhuman

So when there’s too much weight on a foundation, it will apparently crumble.

It’s a hard life lesson, as sometimes it is our very own foundation that fails.

Superhuman, I am not.

Simply put it has not been a good week. The implosion of Notre Dame’s spire and my decision for Fearsome Beard (the blog) to go dark for the week both turned out to be prophetic.

I’ll spare the details as I haven’t the energy or ability to sort it out here. At least not right now. It’s better I sort it out with a professional and just let my readers know that the beards will return. However it’s going to be a few days further into my recovery before I’m mentally and physically back together enough to make any genuine efforts.

In the mean time this Metallica tune seems apropos.

Metallica – Welcome Home ( Sanitarium )

A tune that, in my humble opinion, is the most underrated Metallica masterpiece to date.

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The post I was going to do, but decided not to write

Ok I’ll admit it. I am sick at home with a bad cold and can’t work. Thus yesterday I found myself watching the Cohen testimony between naps and coughing. You, my dear reader, can attest to that fact due to the suddenly overwhelming flurry of posted videos. I obviously wasn’t amused but infuriated by the shenanigans. Necessary shenanigans they were.

So this morning I posted Hail Satan? The Documentary. I did so for a reason. The Satanic Temple seems to actually be practicing the principals of ‘Christianity’ better than most ‘Christians’ I see in the press theses days. The Satanic Temple also seems to value truth and our U.S. constitution better than the ‘Christians’ I typically see in the press of recent . (Before anyone gets their panties all tied up in a bunch please note that I didn’t say “all” but I said “in the press” when referring to ‘Christians’.)

Just an observation and a frank opinion of mine at the moment. Under the influence of cold meds? Yes. Delusional? No.

My disclaimer is this:

While I believe that there is a greater power than me which gives me the spark of life and also helps guide me (if I choose to let it), I am not a ‘Christian’ nor am I a Satanist. My Higher Power or God  or Allah or Christ or Satan or Flying Spaghetti Monster, is my business and not anyone elses’. It is also not appropriate for me to push my personal beliefs about any deity of my own preference upon you or anyone.

Now having said all of that I’ll get to the post I was going to do, but decided not to write.

While watching yesterday’s necessary shenanigans, I couldn’t help but to think of the blind followers of a certain Mr. Hitler of Germany back in the 1930’s & 1940’s. Those thoughts immediately took me to a favorite musical of mine. That musical? Cabaret of corse. After all I am a 50 something homosexual and the lead is played by none other than Hollywood legend Judy Garland’s fabulous daughter Liza Manelli. Besides what other musical so boldly depicts a homosexual couple carefully maneuvering their way through a political minefield of hate, bigotry, mind control, deceit and selfishness?

So this morning I was going to snarkily just drop the video of the blonde German boy singing Tomorrow Belongs To Me right here on this here internets blogy thingy. You know just as a political statement. Therefore I popped over onto YouTube to copy a URL to post here for your viewing pleasure, and also for your own mind expanding contemplation about the blind following a false prophet onto a path of darkness and corruption.

I had thought this through and was simply going to post with it a few short words about history. Something like: “History often repeats itself. However if we learn from history can we make new choices? New and better choices so it possibly doesn’t repeat with the same outcome?”

This Post was going to be good. A real thought provoker. You know, clarity through simplicity. Hell maybe it would even go viral and suddenly I would be hearalded as new voice. A voice to be heard. My 15 minutes were just about to happen. I mean I could feel it.

Then while previewing the video of that blonde German boy singing my eyes drifted to the comments.

Bubble burst.

From the comments it seems that this climactic scene from an anti-Nazi 1970s film, starring none other than Liza Minnelli and having a homosexual subplot, is becoming an anthem for today’s populist (read: selfish, self centered, hate filled) movement. The very song that is directly pointing to the fallacy of a blind following is being heralded by those very same blind individuals as a call to action.

The fucking irony.

Grow a Fucking Beard!

Look I’m not generally one to use what some consider profanity in a blog title but sometimes it’s appropriate.

Beards are great. Real Fucking Beards are even better!

I cannot fully explain what it’s like living with a Beard like Fearsome but I’ll try.

First off, Fearsome ain’t no regular trimmed and styled Beard. He’s a big Beard. A real Fucking Beard.

Fearsome Beard January 2019

Everyday I am am rewarded by the soft touch of Fearsome against my naked skin when I wake up. Yes during sleep I occasionally have to wake up to get him out from under me, out of an armpit or just to simply turn over, but it’s worth it.

Each morning I am blessed with the ritual of his care. The shampoo and conditioning feel wonderful between my fingers as his folicales untangle and lengthen. After blotting his frocks in a soft towel, I get to lovingly apply his leave in conditioner and massage in fragrant Beard oils. We finish with a thorough combing from roots to tips from side to side, front to back and under to outer. The rewards of such care are reaped every time a wind catches and lifts him over a shoulder, around behind my head and even when he lifts into my field of vision.

His movement is one of the greatest pleasures he brings me. I feel every turn of my head. We feel every breeze. He rests softly on my chest giving me a caressing touch even through the fabrics of my shirts. He is simply a divine gift.

He provides comedic relief at most all occasions and interactions. He’s quite social inviting most anyone into an easy conversation. He loves attention and making others smile. Why even at yoga as I am in downward dog he’s jokingly laying on the floor beneath me and can be found  mischievously obstructing my vision when in a headstand.

I cannot fully express my gratitude to the powers that gave me life and blessed me with the luxuriousness that is Fearsome Beard. I am grateful to myself for allowing him to blossom into the massive full Beard he has become. It has been more than 4 years since his last trim and he’s still growing longer day by day. There are no plans for any future trims either as that last one was a mistake from which we learned. Trimming does nothing but destroy the potential that any Beard has to become exceptional.

My advice to any man is to let it grow. Do not trim. Allow your Beard to become its potiential. Shampoo, condition and love your Beard.

Go ahead grow a Beard. Any Beard is worth growing and having. However if you’ve got a taste for adventure, grow a Fucking Beard.

ZZ Top Real Fucking Beards!

Clawing out

Sometimes, in order to get out of a hole that which I have found myself, it feels as if I am clawing my way out of the darkness even though I cannot see any light. I have found that as I claw my way it is important for me to be open to see any cracks, or even pin holes, of light and appreciate these as inspiration to keep clawing my way out. Keep clawing even if these pin holes aren’t the solution or direction in which I should go.

Inspiration lifts me. I must allow it to do so.

The pit of darkness in which I have found myself is of my own making. I make it through overwhelm due to the choices I make as to how I perceive the world around me. Choices as to how I react to others, to politics, to situations, to emotions, to comments, to work, to stress, to joy, to sadness, to love, to criticism, to direction, to you, to my thoughts, to weather, to …

Perception, like everything else in our revolving universe, cycles. This, too, shall pass.

I can choose to hasten this passing by allowing little things to lift me. This morning I choose to allow my locality of living’s politics to shine a pin hole of light inspiration into my life as I claw my way back into the light in which I prefer to live.

As I sit in the United lounge in the San Diego airport awaiting my delayed flight out I read our local paper. To my delight below the coverage of last nights national prime time spectacle of absurd news, I find that my local government has voted to take it upon themselves to assist the asylum seekers awaiting at the international border into our city.

Pin hole of light I see.

I allow it to uplift me.

I smile. I feel better.

I believe that good overpowers bad. I believe that love beats hate. I believe that kindness conquers intolerance. I believe that light eliminates darkness.

I believe that vulnerability allows us to be seen as we truly are, as the truly the imperfect flawed beings that we are. I believe that through exposing our own vulnerability we demonstrate the courage it takes to be, to be ourselves.

I am me and I’m not perfect. However I am worthy, I am courageous, I am beautiful,  I am and I can.

I can do anything. Right now I make a choice. I choose light.

Whole Hearted

Living. Living life to the fullest.

Experiencing, learning, growing, loving, giving, sharing, teaching, risking…

Those who put themselves out there, those who risk, live.

I believe that those who expose themselves for who they really are, those who allow themselves to be vulnerable, live. They live life to the fullest. They live life with a whole heart.

Hearts were meant to be broken or else they wouldn’t break. Love.

Gifts were meant to be given and shared because if they were selfishly hoarded they wouldn’t be gifts, but would be burdens. Give.

Lessons and experiences only have value to enrich others when taught. Teach.

If one isn’t growing, one is dying. Grow.

Without risk there is nothing. Risk.

Will there be pain? Yes

Will there be joy? Yes

If we couldn’t feel pain, we wouldn’t feel joy. Feel.

To get to the other side of anything, we must walk through it. Experience.

My brain thinks. My heart loves, my heart gives, my heart shares, my heart teaches, my heart experiences, my heart risks, my heart feels, my heart grows, my heart lives!

I choose to live whole heartedly from this moment on. To live, live with my whole heart.

Radio Blessings

While driving to the gym today, a treasured song from my past found it’s way from the satellite airwaves through my car speakers onto my eardrums. As my tympanic membranes vibrated to the rhythms, and the vestibulochoclear nerve impulses transferred the information to my brain, my emotions became full of overwhelm. The flood of sadness, grief, warmth, joy, hope, gratitude and rage resulted in a stream of mixed emotional tears into the softness of Fearsome Beard.

Memories enveloped me.

I’m a survivor. I never contracted the HIV virus.

I graduated high school as a very sexually active young homosexual male. I had a ball. I even attended an all night orgy the night before my high school graduation. It was the early 1980s after all and I was a young adult. I was 18. I was one of 4 students who spoke on that graduation day before our class of 500 students. I give you, my dear reader, such a graphic example for a reason.

There was an unknown threat surrounding us males of the homosexual persuasion. A threat unknown to any of us. Even unknown to men 10, 20, 30 or more years my senior.

Apparently sometime during the sexual revolution of the 1970s a virus had turned up in our population. An undetected virus that was just about to reach a critical mass infection that would soon wreak havoc on our community.

We didn’t know. We had fun. We loved. We partied. We fucked.

Love is Love is Love is Love.

It was then. It is today. Yet then we had no idea what was about to happen, and then it did happen.

Those rare cases of an immune deficiency ticked up. They ticked up in the gay community of the U.S. and suddenly we had a syndrome. It was first named GRID. Gay Related Immune Deficiency they called it. GRID was rare. GRID was seen only in large cities. GRID didn’t affect us in smaller towns. Yet it was there, we just didn’t know it yet.

Keep in mind this was the early to mid 1980s. Safe sex wasn’t yet a known practice. Gay men didn’t use condoms. Two men can’t get pregnant. No one yet knew that the virus was spreading nor how it was spreading.

As this virus did spread it showed up in a few other populations, but not in the numbers it did amoung gay men. Researchers soon discovered that it was transmissible, probably from a virus, and thus it was acquired. The name changed to AIDS or Aquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome. It was still rare, but starting to scare us. Then it started to happen. People around me started to get sick.

One of my favorite sexual partners, Jerry, came down with it. Jerry was 38, I was probably 20. Jerry was in his prime. Jerry was succesful, owned several homes and was stunningly handsome. Jerry became very ill. I was scared. I went to visit Jerry. He was thin, pale, had wierd dark cancerous spots on his skin and was short of breath. Jerry looked like hell. He offered me a drink. I said I wasn’t thirsty. I was actually afraid I would catch it from the glass. I couldn’t wait to leave. I never saw Jerry alive again.

Within about 5 years of the night of that orgy celebrating my high school graduation, with the exception of me, every single other person that was there had died. I can still see each of their faces and remember each of their names.

The 1980s for me was a war zone. It wasn’t “if” I would catch AIDS and die, it was when.

In 1990 I fell in love and moved away. Far away. Even though I moved far away, that virus was still here on the west coast. I never contracted that virus. I still haven’t today. I don’t know why I didn’t as I was never, nor did I ever become, no angel. Today the virus is called HIV. The deadly disease that is a result of HIV is AIDS.

My flood of emotion was gratitude that I am here. Gratitude that I ain’t never contracted HIV. Gratitude that I knew those wonderful men I lost, who were not only sexual partners, but mentors and friends. Grateful I loved. Grateful that I could hear Bruce Springsteen’s words. Grateful I could feel. That I could feel all the emotions pouring from me of grief, sadness, love, anger, joy, warmth, disappointment, hope, fear, gratitude and rage.

Fearsome Beard absorbed my tears. I made my way into the gym as a healthy, grateful, loving, kind and hopeful 50 something gay man. A man who was now far removed from the 1980s and far removed from the origin and experiences of the song and memories that had just overwhelmed me.

I will never forget those men whom I lost. I will never forget the times I went through. I’ll never forget the joy, laughter and tears. Those men and those experiences made me who I am today. I look forward to what is to come. I am forever grateful.

I love life. I love who I am. I have been blessed. I am blessed.

All are welcome here

I live only about 15 miles from the San Ysidro port of entry from Mexico into the U.S. I can actually see the hills of Tijuana from the window of my bedroom.

San Ysidro is said to be the busiest U.S. border crossing. This international connection between two North American countries enriches our lives greatly here in San Diego. Culturally and economically both San Diego and Tijuana, as well as both countries, prosper from our connection and relationship.

Migration through this port of entry is yet another benefit to all of us living and working in this region. Immigration is simply the backbone of the birth and growth of the United States. Cities like San Diego and Tijuana function in unison each benefitting the other. Immigrants support these regions and beyond into the heartland of our country.

All are welcome. Bring with you your culture. Bring with you your strong work ethic. Bring with you your desire for a better life. Bring with you your desire to belong. Bring with you your language, character, love and laughter.

I want you here with us. I am not the only one.

Turtles all the way down

Challenge religion, broaden horizons, keep an open mind, believe in love.

Sturgill Simpson – Turtles all the way down-

I’ve seen Jesus play with flames in a lake of fire that I was standing in
Met the devil in Seattle and spent 9 months inside the lion’s den
Met Buddha yet another time and he showed me a glowing light within
But I swear that God is there every time I glare in the eyes of my best friend
Says my son it’s all been done and someday your gonna wake up old and gray
So go and try to have some fun showing warmth to everyone
You meet and greet and cheat along the way
There’s a gateway in our mind that leads somewhere out there beyond this plane
Where reptile aliens made of light cut you open and pull out all your pain
Tell me how you make illegal something that we all make in our brain
Some say you might go crazy but then again it might make you go sane
Every time I take a look inside inside that old and fabled book
I’m blinded and reminded of the pain caused by some old man in the sky
Marijuana, LSD, Psilocybin, and DMT
They all changed the way I see
But love’s the only thing that ever saved my life
So don’t waste your mind on nursery rhymes
Or fairy tales of blood and wine
It’s turtles all the way down the line
So to each their own til’ we go home
To other realms our souls must roam
To and through the myth that we all call space and time

The Beginning

I start today like I start every day and that is with a choice:

Should I play the same record over and over or should I change my world?

Growth comes through change.

Today is the beginning of the rest of my life. All I have to do to change the world is to start by changing my mind.

 

“The Beginning”

This is the beginning of the record you like
Over and over, over and over!
This is the beginning of the record you like
Over and over, over and over!Breaking up, fading out,
Holding on until tomorrow!
Shake it off, turn around,
Won’t be long, till is a brand new day!

[Chorus:]
This is the beginning, the beginning!
This is the beginning of the rest of your life!
This is the beginning, the beginning!
This is the beginning of the rest of your life!

You better get it – get it (get – get) get it – get it – right – right
That was then, this is now.
Here we go starting over

That was then, this is now,
Here we go starting over!
You decide, change your mind,
Miracles happen every day!

[Chorus:]
This is the beginning, the beginning!
This is the beginning of the rest of your life!
This is the beginning, the beginning!
This is the beginning of the rest of your life!

You better get it – get it (get – get) get it – get it – right – right
That was then, this is now.
Here we go starting over

Change the world, change your mind,
We defy space and time!
Change the world, change your mind,
We defy space and time!
Change the world, change your mind,
We defy space and time!

[Chorus:]
This is the beginning, the beginning!
This is the beginning of the rest of your life!
This is the beginning, the beginning!
This is the beginning of the rest of your life

 

Veterans Day 2018

The Music used in the attached video is from my childhood. I remember it playing at the swim club during summer as well as emanating from behind my older brother’s closed bedroom door. I always loved this tune.

My childhood was innocent. I thought people always landed on the moon. I come to find out later that the moonlanding I watched was the first ever. I thought Seasame Street and color televisions had always exhisted. Turns out that season of Seasame Street I was watching in 1969 was the very first season, and that color TV we had was the first my parents had ever owned.

I hated war. Vietnam reinforced that fact. The TV showed horrible scenes. I didn’t understand why people had to do such destructive things. It was wrong. I knew it was. Innocence tainted.

My uncle was in Vietnam. My father and another uncle served in the Korean era. My father’s uncles served in WWII and his father’s uncles in WWI. War stole innocence. War destroyed lives.

My brothers and I avoided the service. No war drafted us nor demanded our service.

Even though I hate war, I respect and I wish to honor those who serve. The serve their country. They serve their family, community, neighbors and each other. They didn’t start nor cause any war. Those who serve do so for a common good of service to something greater than themselves.

I am deeply grateful.

If you served, either in war or hopefully in peace, I thank you.

2557 Days

Seven years ago today I got sober.

My seven year chip

Thats 2557 days of uninterrupted reality.

I stay sober 1 day at a time. May tomorrow be just another one of those days.

You see I don’t drink like regular people. If I take a drink I have no idea where I will end up. Once one drink is in me, I go to the bitter end of fucked up drunkeness.

Therefore I choose to not drink at all. Life is better for me that way. Not everyone is like me, but I am.

Open Doors

”Listing Opportunity” the e-mail is titled

Another marketing spam my mind reacts

A closer observation before deletion reveals sincerity

The e-mail is opened and legit

In my work the listing is key

The key  to my future income and financial security

A response is sent with hope awakened

Anticipation mounts as an appointment to meet is made

Comparble homes are noted and pricing is set

Presentation prepared I properly dress

Upon arrival I stand before a home I might sell

A face of an owner waves me to the side door

Introductions made then a tour ensues

A large flowing floor-plan, a modern kitchen, luxurious baths

Views over the valley and to the ocean in the west

Expansive entertaining patio featuring gardens of beauty, privacy and tranquil

One million seven hundred ninety five thousand the asking price will be

Oh wait there’s another agent or two to interview

Feeling confident I am with the bond we made

Put off another day with more questions asked

Reassurances received from compliments conveyed

Seems they are busy and haven’t finalized decision

Another question, another compliment, yet a few more days

Tomorrow they will confirm with me my listing to be

The Dear John e-mail comes and my hopes fade

Two weeks of hope that my next paycheck will be are lost in a moment

That door open, that door closed

Another door will open as they always do

Which door will let me in I never know

Learning to accept and remain at peace is my goal

Gratitude that doors do open, enriches my soul

Someone to emulate

A good leader is someone who inspires, is honest & humble, has integrity, leads by example, uplifts and serves for betterment of community/humanity. In other words a good leader is someone with good character.

While reading the Washington post this morning I ran across this article about one of our best. It’s worth sharing.

WaPo article Sunday August 19, 2018 on Jimmy Carter

Jimmy Carter, thank you for your integrity, leadership and inspiration.

Constraint

Once upon a schoolday an English teacher said

“Poetry is an art, an art to be read”

She talked and talked more and more to convey her definition

All I heard were rules to achieve complicated rendition

Assignments were made to put pen to paper

With constraints on my mind every verse was a scraper

Today my expressions flow freely from my finger tips

I find writing is almost as easy as if it were crossing my lips

Rules have a place to make a Society most suitable

But freedom from limits allows articulation to become transmutable

Life’s second poem

A poet I’ve never been

Verse I’ve never written

Words I’ve never bent

Feelings never expressed

Meanings never explored

Yet my mind searches

Yet my mind wonders

Without training could I be?

Could I be?

Could I express feeling

Could I bend word, search meaning

Might I create

I might just communicate

 

Crestfallen

It had been a while

A while since we first met

The fun, smiles, laughter, excitement

Convivial companionship

The message came through

Yes, yes I remember!

A plan to meet

Anticipation builds, memories swirl

The time comes, the time passes

No message, no word

Connection missed

Was it a dream?

 

Welcome here

Have a beard? Welcome here.

Don’t have a beard? Welcome here.

Black? Brown? White? Colorful? Colorless? Any spectrum? Welcome here.

Religious? Non-believer? God? Buddha? Allah? Flying Spaghetti Monster? Satan? No one? Higher Power? Universe? Welcome here.

Citizen? Alien? Traveler? Migrant? Resident? Refugee? Welcome here.

Politcal? Apolitical? Independent? Party Affiliated? Non-Affiliated? Welcome here.

Female? Transgender? Male? Undecided? Welcome here.

Sexual? Asexual? Fetishist? Puritan? Curious? Hetero? Homo? Bi? Welcome here.

Lonely? Popular? Outcast? Poor? Rich? Disadvantaged? Advantaged? Welcome here.

Need help? Welcome here.

Helpful? Welcome here.

Tired? Welcome here.

Giving? Servant? Selfless? Welcome here.

Respectful? Welcome here.