Putting technology in its place

My off-the-grid wife has been forwarding me articles about how bad my cell phones is for my health.
She tells me not to hold it against my head for too long and that I should not carry it on my body. When I pressed her on statistical result data she was not too positive what the actual long term effects might be.
So I now carry my cell phone exclusively in my front pants pocket.
I am hoping to discover a way to shorten menopause.

the end of an era?

I have just found out that the Cedar Brook Cafe will be closing.
It is rumoured to be the oldest gay bar in the nation.
Tho somehow I doubt that.
It is old. And in seriously rough shape.

It was old and in rough shape when I was going there, and that folks was in the 80's.

I started going when I was in college.
It was my first gay bar.
I was a regular.
I was there on Fridays and Saturdays, made most Sunday T's, and even went on the occasional Thursday.
There was a good crowd there back then. Lots of wonderfully good looking women, and the men were handsome, buff, tan and great dancers.

I dated the bouncer for a time, and the bartender always had my Michelob ready before I even made it over to the bar.
Back in those days, I never went with anyone - tho I rarely left alone. I eschewed the dance floor and ran the pool table. I flirted, I drank, I cheated*, I smoked, I dated several woman at once...
oh the good times.
ah to be young.

Years later, hmm, well...not many years later - still in my 20's I started dating a terribly attractive woman.
Some of our first dates were at the Cedar Brook Cafe, we called it The Brook.
Turns out we would go there for several years together. I gave up running the pool table so that I could dance with this lovely lady.
Clearly, I was rather smitten.
In fact, I think we stopped going mostly because of the birth of our second child.

And so this rugged little bar has many fond memories for me... for us.

They are having a closing party this Saturday night.
We talked about going, my AARP member-wife and I. But I think we'll pass.

The Brook was our place.
A long time ago.
I'll let it stay that way in my heart and in my memory.

We've lived a whole life since then.
It's not our place anymore - it belongs to a younger, firmer crowd.
We'll let them sweep up and lock the door.

Cheers.


* never at pool

Opposites may attract, but...

My companionable wife and I do most things together. We truly enjoy each others company and generally make a good time doing the most mundane of errands.

That said – there are things we not only do on our own because we enjoy our individuality ….but frankly there are just some things that the other doesn’t want to do.
For example – I am not a good craft store pal. I get impatient and grumpy. I just don’t understand the laboring over subtle shades of blue beads.

My creative wife on the other hand is not really a great Home Depot buddy. While she is perfectly happy going with me – she tends to wander off …which then takes quite some time roaming around the store to find her once again (often with a cart full).

This past weekend my adorable, wandering wife accompanied me to said Home Depot where… included on our list would be some considerable contemplation in the toilet repair aisle.
Before we left home I assessed the dire toilet situation – took some measurements, poked around and was fairly prepared to look for the items I thought I might need.

So there we are in the plumbing aisle. My somewhat disinterested wife next to me while I pondered washers and hosing and such. After a short time of me wondering whether I could get away with the 9” tubing since the 8” was not available, or perhaps I should go longer to make a loop…but not too long… – she declares –

“Wait… this fixes 90% of toilet problems”

I turn… in disbelief… to see her holding a brightly colored box… a kit if you will.
A kit.
Really…
90% of the problems.
As I hold my handful of little washers and bolts.

“Lemme see that…”

So we took the brightly colored kit home (along with a couple of the individual parts…just in case).

Worked like a charm.

Somehow I doubt I’ll ever be able to reciprocate in the bead aisle at Michael’s.

This is what happens...

when I give my green-thumbed wife my car.

I have always
had a thing
for older women.



Who knew
when we were
20-something,
all I had to do
was wait.




Happy Birthday, love.

Month-aversary

Yesterday was our monthaversary.

There has been a little bag of ice sitting out on the back stoop ever since our wedding night. It's been pretty cold up here.

Just yesterday it melted.

Guess the honeymoon is over.

This night

Faust!


We are gettin' all dolled up and going in early to have 'little plates' and much bubbly.



Tonight... I am taking my effervescent wife -- to the opera.

ef⋅fer⋅ves⋅cent   /ˌɛfərˈvɛsənt/
[ef-er-ves-uhnt]

–adjective
1. effervescing; bubbling.
2. vivacious; gay; lively; sparkling.

1675–85; L effervēscent- (s. of effervēscēns), prp. of effervēscere to effervesce; see -ent

a political reprise

My patriotic wife and I voted today. We got to the busy polls at 6:03.
Then we went to Starbucks for our free coffee!

Today will be all about election coverage, on tv, on peoples blogs, on the internets.
So, how about something a little different...

I will tell you a story.



My gifted wife is painting in oils these days. For a long time she had been working in watercolors enjoying the quick freshness of the process as well as the result. But lately her work has been larger, with brighter colors and broader strokes. Really she is doing some beautiful work these days.

Painting in oils is a completely different process. The paints are thick and luxurious and take a long time to dry. She may paint vigorously one day, and need to leave it the next to set up.

Here is a glimpse of her studio, and her latest piece.
I love hanging out in the studio with her. Sometimes I will watch TV there, or work on the computer. It's a very cool place. It has great energy. It used to be our daughter's room, and still carries some evidence of her.
I love all the stuff in there... her paints, her easel, that sexy apron she wears sometimes to paint in...

I even love the way her palette looks - with its random squirts and smears of color. She uses this pad of waxy type paper for her palette. Squeezing out her colors and mixing them into different shades and hues. I find this process delightful. Plus it makes clean up a breeze. Oil paints don't require the daily clean up as water colors do, since they don't really 'dry' overnight, and remain quite malleable for a time.



I truly love this part of my creative wife. I love watching an idea bubble up inside her and then explode over a canvass. It's no wonder really that our daughter is also an artist. She paints as well, but is also an accomplished sculptor. So much creativity swirls in our house... in this room...


So much so in fact, that really should this have been a surprise??


Can you see it? Do you need a closer look?

Our clever kitty

Welp, it took all of 3 days.
Sorsha (aka the FREE cat) is now coming when she is called and eating her dinner right on our covered porch.
She eats very fast and is certainly a little nervous. But I feel better about this than leaving food in the back of the garage - where who knows who is eating it.

Last night, glowing in our success - I suggested to my cautious wife that perhaps we could train her to come into the basement on cold nights, and did she think that the basement window in the far corner might be an ideal spot for a cat door.

My wise wife agreed that it might be possible and encouraged me to think more on the matter.

Of course, I came to the conclusion later that evening that perhaps it was not such a good idea after all.

My gentle wife simply nodded.
She is so good at this.
She is so good at me.

Let's see how I fare as the temperatures drop below freezing this week.

I am going to try to put this into words...

I am not sure if I can get this across in a blog entry.
This is more of a conversation we should have over the dining room table - with cocktails and finger foods. Where I can look at you and you at me and I can use my hands and eyes and inflections to express myself.

Alas, you are not here and I really want to tell you about this - so bear with me.

My adoring wife and I have been together for over 23 years. We have raised two children, several dogs and cats, some fish, and a couple of lizards. We have lived in the same house for 21 of these years, and have painted each room... several times.
We are truly and utterly in love. We are best friends. We are very different. We are very happy.

When the Civil Union bill passed several years ago - my excited wife became a Justice of the Peace. It's been a truly wonderful experience for her to share in so many joyous Unions. She comes home from each ceremony welling with joy. I have been privileged as well to see some of you Unioned.
We are moved by each and every one.

When this bill was passed we were preparing our second child for college, and we made a conscience decision to hold off on our own Civil Union until after he was done with school -- specifically for the financial aid forms. It was our little way of getting back at the system.

Well our son is a junior now, and we were already planning to 'Unionize' next year --and then we heard the Marriage bill had passed.

Yay. So now we’ll be ‘Married’ instead. This is nice.

Ahh.. but over the course of this past week I have to admit… I have been feeling a bit… well… emotional (in the most pragmatic way that I can of course).

Intellectually, I have always understood that a Civil Union would give us the same (state, that is) legal rights as marriage. But what I didn't realize - that in my heart … I never gave it as much weight.
No really… I had no idea that I truly felt this way. That it wasn’t just rhetoric.

Civil Union, after all, is a legal, binding commitment - and yet some how… for me… it was not gelling. I wasn’t giving it the weight it deserved (or did it).

Today I am sitting and thinking about actually marrying the woman I love, and what that truly means. Literally I am welling up as I type – and frankly I am surprising myself.

When I come into work after our ceremony - I must notify my employer that I am now 'Married'.
When I fill out my taxes - I will be 'Married'.
When I go to the doctor and fill in the forms - I will no longer be forced to check the 'Single' box.
There won't be any question or difference or confusion.

I won't be ‘in a Civil Union’.

I can simply check :
[ ] Single
[x] Married
[ ] Divorced
[ ] Widowed

This feels very different - and I don't mean that in the political “I want to fight for my rights way” -- I mean ... emotionally, spiritually, passionately.


I will be married.
I will be a married woman.
After 23 years of calling this adorable, sexy, playful, intelligent, free-spirited woman my wife... she actually will be.



Thank you to the folks at GLAD and LMF and to the couples that participated in the lawsuit, and to the legions that supported them, and to the Connecticut Supreme Court for making a sound and fair judgment.

True Love

When my free spirited wife saw a Bleeding Heart sprouting between the asphalt driveway and the curbing she was enchanted.
She marveled at how beauty can spring forth from anywhere.


And for just this reason ... its still there.

enchanting evening

Each June New Haven puts on the Arts and Ideas festival with all sorts of music, dance and theatre. Saturday night they traditionally present Opera on the Green.

It's a very well attended event with people turning out with full table settings - linens, candles or candelabras, wine and food and all the accoutrement.
Lovely.

The entire experience was delightful; we had perfect weather, a bottle of red, some snacks and fabulous entertainment.

This year East Village Opera Company performed - they were amazing.


Classic opera melded with classic rock. Think Mozart jamming with Pete Townsend.
They have two fantastic vocalists and when they performed the Flower Duet **, my rather smitten wife turned to me and said

"I think I'm in love."








with this woman... incredible voice and a sensual performer; oh... and she's hot.

Luckily ... my adorable wife went home with me.

Though we stopped to buy a CD ...and to meet the band.
















** renowned in the opera world for its sexual tension and lesbian subtext

woops

Did I forget to wish my beautiful wife a HAPPY HAPPY birthday yesterday?

nope... I simply forgot to tell you all.

All new and shiny

January is often a time for new beginnings. Many people start diets, exercise regimens, or perhaps begin to get their finances in order.
My artistic wife decided to start a blog.
Yes folks. She started a blog. My adorable wife.

Don’t go there expecting stories, anecdotes or a daily thought.
My insightful wife would tell you not to have any expectations.
If you know her… this makes perfect sense.

While she is masterful with words - she is even better with a brush.
So she'll paint her blog... in her own colors.

Stop by.
Enjoy.

She picked me

It's important in a relationship to celebrate your differences... or at least learn to laugh about them.

Whenever I get particularly neurotic - I simply remind my fraught wife that she picked me.

And I of course ...picked her.

~~

We have decided to redecorate our bedroom.
Let me give you some background on the project.

A dozen years or so ago we enlarged our room by creating an opening into an adjoining bedroom. That room had been Ferris'. We moved him to the ever so slightly smaller back bedroom. He was not particularly pleased... but I image now that he lives in a dorm room he has probably gotten over it, or perhaps he can begin therapy early... anywhoo...
When we took up the rug in there the wood floors underneath were in a sorry state of shellac and paint and who knows what.
We decided it would be very 'Pottery Barn' to paint the floors black. We were such Pottery Barn lesbians. The floor came out good and it was a striking look with our dark sage walls with crisp cream trim. When the black paint started to chip and show the reddened shellac underneath we considered it rustic... cool.

It finally got to a point where 'cool' got old.
That point was sometime last week.
So we knew we needed to address the floor as part of this makeover. Refinishing the oak floors would be the right thing to do - but really it would mean refinishing the entire second floor and, while you've got the mess going, the stairs should be done too.
This would mean moving all the furniture off the second floor and sleeping else where for a week or so - not to mention the cost.
That option was nixed early on.
Our next idea was to simply repaint the floor, perhaps a happier color.

We thought before we bought any floor paint - just for giggles we would try a little bit of stripping solution we had left over on a small inconspicuous area. Just to see.
In steps my adorable wife.

I walk into the room Saturday afternoon and there is a smallish stripped area of the floor.
Where?
Inconspicuously in the middle of the room.

by the time I grabbed the camera she had already started removing baseboards and stripping more floor

She cracks me up.
She has about 1/4 of the floor done now.
The floor underneath has a ... lets call it a distressed look.
People pay big money for distressed these days.
It's very Pottery Barn.

My Artistic Wife

I am sure I have mentioned before that my adorable wife is an artist.
She draws and paints. Watercolors, oils... sometimes pencil - she's wicked with a box of crayolas.
I marvel at her talent. She is very good. Really. I am not just saying that because ...well you know.

Lucky for her she picked me. You see, where she excels at the creative with her fine eye and keen color sense - she sorta lacks in areas of ... well, common sense.
Not a problem, because I am filled with sound judgement. I brim with it.

For example, she would think nothing of sending an original watercolor postcard all the way across the country via the trusty United States Postal Service - without even putting it in an envelope.

It is at these times that I try to impress upon my blithe wife some prudence. Sometimes she listens, sometimes she simply wanders away.
I have long since learned to let her wander happily off.

She has such a gentle way about her. She lets things take on a life of their own.
It will be fine - she says lightly.
But what about the rain - I try to assert.
If the watercolor gets wet (ends up a soupy mess) then that will be art too, she explains to me.

She teaches me to be patient and calm and centered. (she beat me to the post office)
She is my muse.

The watercolor? Well... however it reached its destination - it was exactly as it should be.

That's my gal

So I was having a somewhat trying morning at the office when my intuitive wife sends me this email.

So my tea bag fortune is “Your destiny is to merge with infinity.”
Why not just say, “One night you’re gonna fall asleep and never wake up”?

Phuckin’ genius.

Somehow she just knows when I need to lighten up.

Power tools

She's done it again.

This past weekend...
It was Sunday afternoon and we were finishing up two full days doing spring clean up.
The work had been heavy and I was pretty tired and a little sore. I had left the tractor work till the end, figuring I could still manage to steer.

I drove my big orange Husqvarna with cup holder around to the side of the house... to find my frugal wife and our 82 year old neighbor cutting down a tree.

See, I had a tree guy come and give us an estimate on taking down these three hemlock trees and trimming up a large northern pine in the side yard. The estimate seemed high, so I planned on calling around for others.
Evidently that's unnecessary.

Again, my burly wife used her tool of choice for this 19 foot sapling with an 8 inch trunk- her HAND saw.

She did mention that she could use a new blade this year.

There are two more trees to take down... larger than the first.
Time to buy some power tools.

A Weekend Outing

One of my artistic wife’s favorite places is the Met… for those who don’t live near NYC, which is the center of the universe – this can either mean the Metropolitan Opera, or the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Today I refer to the Museum. (she also loves the Louvre…but we don’t get out there as often)

We have been going to this museum since … well since the mid 80’s. We have favorite rooms, specific artists and certain paintings that we like to visit each time.
My painterly wife loves the American Wing, and the Dutch painters have a special place in her heart.
In the rooms which house the permanent collection of European paintings I have a favorite bench… it faces a Rembrandt self portrait which I have grown to love, and allows me a rest while my wife enjoys long visits with her Vermeer’s.

We have visited the museum in each season – Christmas time is always a favorite.
Spring time in the park can be lovely, and dinner in little Italy is fab in the summer.

We brought ‘The Daughter’ to this museum when she was small enough for a piggy back. I remember this distinctly because after a full day in the museum she was tired and we rode her on our backs the entire 30 blocks back to Grand Central. We didn’t take cabs or the subway in those days… we were young…and strong… and broke.

A few years back we introduced Ferris to the Met with the Da Vinci exhibit. We learned Ferris’ insight into art is priceless. Having been raised by artists in a home filled with art, he saunters through a room filled with renowned European painters and his keen eye hones in immediately on this piece.


Can you see why?

We returned to the Met this weekend after having been away for several years. Perfectly timed with a special exhibit of Louis Comfort Tiffany. If you are in the area, I highly recommend it. It’s extremely well presented.
We will of course now be purchasing lead, glass cutters, grinders and several pieces of colored glass – as my affected wife gets inspired.

This perfect museum visit was topped off with a meal in Greenwich village, a visit to a head shop, and the near purchase of a $2300.00 dollar puppy.
I adore my sweet wife’s birthday.

One more year

Because we have been so busy having a fun filled weekend.
I am a couple days late wishing my ever so slightly older wife a happy, happy birthday.