A fighting chance...

Hit the mat
I don't know about the rest of
you but in my opinion, these
are scary times. It's as if we're
all fighting for our lives in our
own ways. Some are barely
surviving the corporate world
and that often involves getting
the what little dignity one has
left kicked out of you. Others
have moved on to do their own
thing in a shaky fiscal arena.
Are the odds against us or do
some have an unfair advantage?

Fighting ready
Part of me believes the older one
is, the harder it gets. A beloved
buddy is champion in their arena
of expertise and yet can't seem to
get a gig. Their theory is it's age
and while I used to argue against
said thoughts, I now accept their
reality. I've seen too many young
people put into roles too big for
them to fill. Experience brings a
level of maturity money can't buy.
Who wouldn't want somebody
who was a somebody?!

Opposites attract
That is frankly baffling to me.
A seasoned pro versus novice?!
Seems a losing battle. However
my assumption is that some feel
that innovation can only happen
with the brashly brave i.e. young.
In the end that invariably yields
foolish caprice versus calculated
risks. In order to get from here to
there doesn't one need to know
where we've been in order to get
us where you want to go? When
did maturity become a liability?

Punch drunk love
Instead most of America seems to be in
love with naivety. Especially most men
over the age of fifty! Rather than grow
old with someone whose been there,
done that, many opt to bed and wed
people the age of their children. The
idea of sleeping with someone who is
still learning the ropes seems repulsive
at best to me. While I'm sure some May
to September relationships involve a
meeting of the minds, most mature men
are interested playmates vs. soul mates!
That seems a losing proposition at best!

A sure bet
As a leader I leverage assets and
liabilities. Whoever made me a
Vice President in my twenties
saw something worth investing
in. So now that I'm in my dusk
versus dawn, who wouldn't take
a risk on me given the odds of
my delivering are in their favor?

And the winner is...
What's odd is that the odds are
actually on our side. In the end
we must do whatever it takes to
win. Happily many of us realize
that is something new. My friend
Cynthia Vaiden Guest has lived
a life many would envy. After
a battle with cancer, she started
to box. Always a formidable foe,
I now fear her fearlessness even
more. All of the photos on today's
blog are her's. Now anyone can
own a piece of a CHAMPION! http://www.saatchiart.com/cynthiavaiden

7th Day Surprise - THIS WAY

As Al Jolson sang - 

April showers bring May flowers.

Soon we'll have to start landscaping the Passion Pit.

We're gathering ideas and inspiration in preparation.

So... I thought I'd take you 

down the garden path...

NEVER SAY NEVER...

First Fibs
I haven't been totally honest with
you. As I've been crowing "less
is more" we've been shopping for
the Passion Pit. Our new home is
move in ready in May. That has
forced us to peruse our floor plan
and figure out what goes where.
We assumed we had enough in
our overstuffed condo, packed to
the top storage locker, and boxed
contents of our Dallas apartment.
After actually putting it all in it's
proper place, we were WRONG!

Empty nesters
Sadly, we need a few more items.
OK, I'm the first to acknowledge
the traditional stereotype of gay
men and yes... we love to shop!
That said, we really thought we
wouldn't have to buy anything.
While the house is spacious, our
actual living space is quite livable.
However in order to make it so,
we discovered that a several key
items were missing. Hence a list.
It's not like we're starting from
scratch but honey, IT'S A LOT!

Go with the flow
Our new living room is large.
Nothing we had fit the flow.
Therefore we dragged down
to Mitchell Gold to purchase
two sofas and two chairs. We
walked the floor, swatched our
guts out, and finally selected
the perfect items. Now they're
whipping them up somewhere
in the Carolinas for delivery in
May. Like dominos, one thing
leads to another and suddenly
we realized we needed more!

What lies beneath
Big rooms have big floors and hence
require big rugs. Carpet shopping is
a bit threatening. Monstrous mounds
sit waiting for your review. Eager
salesmen must flip the deck as one
selects. Somehow this pressure must
force some to buy given all the hard
work these boys put into selling. We
are simply not ready to rush. In the
end we must love what's under foot.
The last thing we need is to have to
ship a heavy rug back to an irate
Iranian. ONE FOOT FORWARD!

Through the glass darkly
With over eighty windows, we've
got gobs of glass to garb. We will
purchase the majority of window
coverings in Lewistown. Given
the vintage of our home, classic
venetian blinds are de rigeur. Yet
we will need some curtains and
so our search for ready made or
fabric. We want to keep it simple
as the last thing two boys like us
need is too many flounces in the
house. So up and down town we
go, searching and swatching!

Over the line
I'm certain that once everything is in
place, we'll have forgotten something.
Fortunately with 1st Dibs and e-bay,
I'm confident we won't be left high
and dry out under Montana's Big Sky.
That said, it's rather hard to buy the
right 12 x 18 carpet on-line. Given
we live in the best of both worlds
we'll hunt and peck till we find one!
So much to do, such little time...

SPRING HAS SPRUNG

Brighten up!
It seems that finally Spring
has arrived. Temperatures
continue to fluctuate, yet the
quality of light is changing
at the end of our tunnel.
When the sun is out, it's
definitely warmer and while
few love rain, one accepts
that it serves an invaluable
purpose. We're all looking
on the bright side and the
mood is happily optimistic
here in chilly Manhattan.

Technicolor
Color has now returned in all it's glory.
Honestly, I can't imagine what boys will
don some of the new head to toe candy
colored suits! However in our new metro
sexual world, little surprises me anymore.
After shopping the Fifth Floor at Barney's
I discovered a candy shop full of brightly
toned foot gear. Believe it or not, I was in
the men's shoe department! While I can
appreciate an occasional punch of pink,
I think I'll let the young and restless tiptoe
through the tulips and smell the roses!
Can men wear puce and truly be men?

Subliminal seduction
I'm certain that somewhere out in the
outer boroughs things are starting to
bloom. Whether crocus or jonquils,
signs of spring are now rising above
winter's fray. Optimism has hit the
pavements in the form of sidewalk
cafes fully decked with linens and
posies. Unless the weather hits above
sixty, I doubt anyone is willing to sit
and brave the elements. If nothing else
these dainty touches add a spring to
one's step as we cross the crosswalk
wrapped in our heavy winter coats!

April's fools
April is truly a month of transition and
apparently that means we all must still
be flexible. Sadly the thermostats in our
major office buildings and public venues
are not. It seems that experts must flip a
big switch from hot to cool and most are
hesitant to do so too early. Hence when
the weather is nice, it's often hotter than
hell indoors. As one who suffers from
man o' pause, the result is a gentlemen
who is still "hot" however not in the way
he once was in his youth. Turn it down
or I'll have to take it off! CHILL OUT!

Pale by comparison
Here in the Big Apple, most spring breaks
align with the Easter holiday. Given how
late it falls this year, many have not yet
escaped to a warmer clime. The few who
do return with tans that look oddly out of
place amongst the pale masses. However
those who wait should be able to easily
transition from the tropics to Hamptons.
I've decided to maintain a palid pallor go
forward. In order to stop the march of time
I plan to stay out of the sun and learn how
to throw some shade! Hopefully if I act as
if wan is cooler than tan, I'll look good!

Divalicious
While the cherry blossoms aren't
drifting across Fifth Avenue, they
are in full bloom at the Met. We
have fabulous seats for Madama
Butterfly Friday and I can't wait
to vicariously experience the life
of a geisha Italiano set to music.
One thing is certain. we will not
be hitting the social season this
spring. I've no intention of pulling
out the chiffon when I've already
given up booze for Lent! This
lamb will not be led to slaughter!

In the spirit of...

Oh... my... GAWD
We all have secrets. One of mine is
an addiction to TLC's Long Island
Medium. This series chronicles the
life of a suburban clairvoyant named
Theresa Caputo who wanders about
Levittown talking to "dead people."
In a normal episode we see her order
a bagel only to loudly query all in the
room "Does anybody have a father
figure who has passed?!" Invariably
a hand is raised and what follows can
be fascinating! It's beyond spooky
and yet somehow I can't turn it off.

How did you know?
You see somehow Theresa knows and
reveals deeply personal and unique bits
of facts that in theory, nobody else knew
except her target. Her revelations can be
unnerving. While her accent and schtick
are entertaining enough, watching her
connect people with residents from the
other side is oddly alluring. I'm not sure
what I believe but I do know that there
are spirits. And that some of us can (and
often do) connect with people who are
no longer people but just don't know it.
While this may see crazy, it's true.

Flush them out
"T" is the Connecticut medium.
She's always had the ability to see
things others of us couldn't. Upon
moving into a house she "felt" that
certain architectural elements were
missing. Years later upon finding
an old sales brochure for the house,
there they all were in pictures. Our
friend "M" didn't like her guest bath.
"T" quickly found the spirit of the
former owner hiding in the shower,
After a chat the ghost moved along.
Now "M" can use the throne!

Barely there
Shortly after I bought a second home
in south western Michigan, I awoke
to a visage at the foot of the bed. It
wasn't a real person and yet I knew
exactly who it was. The first owner
of the house had tragically died in a
plane crash years before. Now there
he was looking at me. I sat up and
said "Don't worry, I love this house
as much as you do and will take care
of it." Then he faded away never to
be seen again. You can believe what
you like but believe me he was real!

Feel the glow
My Dad bravely battled Alzheimer's.
During his final years there was little
left of the man we loved. After 68
years of together, Mom finally said
it was time for him to go. Shortly
thereafter Dad's tortured breathing
calmed and a warm glow filled the
room. For a few hours she lay on his
bed and held her beloved. Then the
glow dimmed and with it my Dad
literally gave up the ghost. All that
remained was a barely functioning
body which died a few hours later.

Guardian angel
While certainly scary in life, my mother
would've been the last to acknowledge
the spirit world. Her faith was so strong
that there was no room for anything but
the King James version. Oddly, after
her death she simply wouldn't go away.
Initially she constantly whispered in my
ear. It might seem crazy but trust me, I
was channeling Ethel. It wasn't just me,
Frank felt her presence often, especially
whenever we were spending a sizable
amount of cash! Like a guardian angel,
Ethel was still watching over her boys.

Ever present
On Mother's death bed I told her she
could go whenever she was ready.
In tears she said "But who will take
care of you?" Frank took her hand
and assured Ethel that he would now
assume the responsibility of tending
her tot. I'm certain that after Mother
passed, she kept an eye both on us
until she was certain Frank had kept
his word. Slowly her encounters fell
off and it seems that she has moved
on. Now she lives on in our hearts
and once in awhile, still zings us!

Look before you leave

Street walker
One must admit that Manhattan can
be rather pedestrian. After all, most
of us opt to get from here to there on
foot. It's always faster and given the
weather is starting to warm up, often
quite pleasant. One of the benefits of
transversing town on foot is that you
actually get to see all sorts of people.
Strolling down Fifth Avenue one can
witness a passing parade of elegance
or extremes. While Bill Cunningham
chronicles the best of the bunch in the
Times, I see things you can't imagine!

Cross walk
Which bodes the question, do most
people ever look in a mirror? Based
on the problematic pageant that one
witnesses throughout this city on a
daily basis, my assumption is NO!!
Beyond an obvious absence of good
taste, many seem to lack all sense of
proportion. Many's the time I witness
women who have either purposefully
enhanced or regretfully expanded on
their worst assets. Trust me my dears,
there's a reason experts advise against
donning horizontal stripes...

Tunnel vision
The other day on the subway platform,
a tall, thin, and pallid vestige of Czarist
Russia floated past me. Sadly it wasn't
Marlene evoking Catherine the Great,
rather it was a faded fop from Queens
wearing a foot high fur toque a la The
Scarlett Empress. As he rushed to make
his connection, his kabuki complexion
and strategically placed beauty mark
showed his disconnection from reality.
One wonders what the outer boroughs
really do to one's soul. Maybe he woke
up and decided it was time to revolt?

Outer limits
I'm not talking about slobs. It's fairly
obvious that some don't care about their
appearance. My angst relates to those
who obviously put a lot of thought and
effort into how they present themselves.
Sadly they must be wearing coke bottle
thick rose colored glasses. Otherwise I
highly doubt they would walk out of the
house looking as they do. One may feel
the need to break out from the pack and
in this era of the individual I can most
certainly understand. However outré is
just what you think it is... FAR OUT!

Aisle attendant
Ever seen www.peopleofwalmart.com?
Click above, it's well worth a visit. This
site chronicles actual customers as they
wander the aisles for deals. One can
only utter "regretful" however most of
the time I am simply speechless. Some
might call it fashion but honestly, words
cannot describe the creatures captured
therein for perpetuity. While one initially
assumes it's contrived, in reality they are
100% REAL. And that my dear friends
is proof that we are all living in strange
and fashion challenged times.

Upon reflection
Ultimately we all must each own our "look".
Even I've been known to ere sartorially. It's
obvious that I prefer commando and adore
tight tights. As I look down, all I see are
skinny slacks that emphasize my footwear.
However some kind friends have said that
my constrictive garb adds a bit of emphasis
to certain physical attributes. Therefore I've
been accused of said "bits" entering a room
well in advance of the rest of me. Standing
back and looking in the mirror, I'll admit
that they may be right however Frank likes
the look. Hmm... who needs a mirror?!

Enough is enough

Sad surprise
It is with a heavy heart dear readers that
I must regretfully inform you that today's
missive is my last. For over a year I've
blogged my heart out. At this point it is
apparent that I have little left to say. And
so, I've decided to draw the curtain on this
venture and move on. I'm certain you can
find some other way to sip your morning
coffee. I hope in some way I have inspired
some of you to look at life through rose
colored glasses. Yes, sadly, this is it.
No more roue for you. I'm totally done.
Oh... and by the way... April fools!

Blond bombshell
Yes kids, today is April First and hence
chances are the rug may be pulled out
from under you multiple times today.
I'm used to being tortured as my dearly
departed Mother adored this holiday.
Somehow the task of torturing family
and friends appealed to Ethel... imagine
that! Every year on this day she found
some new way to play off one's natural
naivety and pounce upon the innocent.
Part of her unique ability to always nail
you was that she was as stealth as a
panther. Nobody saw her coming...

Bowled over
Few ever think about this day in advance.
Sadly we're virginal victims waiting to be
tortured by those in the know. My Dad
was a busy man. Early each morning he
grabbed some breakfast before he ran out
of the house to catch his train. The last
thing he was thinking about was childish
tricks. That made him perfect prey for
Mother's trickery. Annually Ethel would
substitute salt for sugar in the Spode.
Howard would then dutifully dip and
subsequently spew before realizing that
yes... once again it was April Fools Day.

Sorry, wrong number
Ethel had no dignity when it came to
this day. She acted as if she owned a
twenty four hour license to lie. Every
day after she sent Dad off Mom chatted
with Aunt Blanche via the wire. Many
an April my Tante almost expired on
the other end as Ethel shared a fictional
revelation only to triumphantly bellow
"April Fools!" While a bit gullible,
dear Blanche was as unprepared for
attack on April 1st as Pearl Harbor
was for December 7th. All while my
Mother circled from afar like a B52.

Backlash
After years of being the victim,
I learned to plot prior to April Uno.
One year Ethel had a  theory that
a prodigal son had done her dear
friends in. Knowing when the Times
was delivered to their home, I called
an hour before. "Have you seen the
paper?!" Pause... "Headline reads
Demonic murder cult discovered"
Pause... "Blah blah blah arrested
as leader." Pause... After Mother's
shrieks of "I KNEW IT!" I let her
spin until reality hit her doorstep.

While you were out
As age held sway, Ethel was still able
to marshall enough cunning energy to
evilly assault those she loved. In the
end Mom attacked over the wire yet
still stung us all. Given she played the
joker annually, I'm not surprised that
we were surprised. Whatever joy she
got at our expense was worth it. Sadly,
Mom died in February, two months
shy of the big day. That April 1st (and
ever since) I jumped when the phone
rang. Even from above I was waiting
for Mother's attack. April Fools!