Puppy Love

(continuation from June 5, 2013)

...It was the summer of 1975 and I needed a summer job to raise money for school clothing of my choice with my own funds.  Joyce found out about a summer program at St. Rose College and somehow I was enrolled.  I was more than happy to spend the day on a college campus as opposed to other summer jobs where I worked for Parks and Recreation clearing vacant lots, cutting down tree stumps from a golf course, and being outside in the blistering heat.  Not my cup of tea.  I often subjected myself to things that I wasn't particularly fond for the sake of my mother.  For example I was in Little League for two seasons before Joyce realized (admitted) that baseball wasn't for her little Eddie.  Don't get me wrong, I loved the hot dogs and pizza after the games but despised the practice.  Throwing the ball in from the outfield was pointless, hitting the ball with a bat that was as tall as me was ridiculous, and the last straw was the fly ball in the face while trying to catch it in center field.  I sucked and to top it off the uniform was way too big and I didn't like to get it dirty.  During the games I preferred to sit the bench where I could go into the world in my head where I wasn't in a dugout hoping that the coach would not put me in.  Can't a cute little boy in the bright white uniform get a break.  Somehow the coach would manage to get me in the game to bat and to play the left field (I think), I don't know -- it's the outfield where most batters do not hit to unless of course I was there.

The summer at St. Rose was wonderful.  The program provided me with a weekly stipend for basically attending a day camp on campus.  We did arts and crafts, wrote and performed
a cabaret of sorts where I sang "If I Ruled The World", and I spent a lot of time with Mildred; my sweetheart from fourth grade.  We talked, well she talked more since I was very shy with girls.  My heart still raced in her presence and I was just as inept at fourteen as I was in the fourth grade.  I had no rap or game.  I was just a pretty boy with a Michael Jackson afro who was sweet and kind to the ladies.  So ends the summer of '75 and my unrequited love for Mildred Jackson.  The summer did introduce me to Phillip, the younger brother of my mother's co-worker Max, who shared his nude magazine collection with me when I spent a week with him and his family in Queens.  Yes!

Phillip attended the cabaret along with his brother Max and sister-in-law Margretta.  We were introduced after the show while I was receiving congratulatory pats on the back and well wishes for sleighing the song.  Since Phillip and I were the same age, Max thought it would be a good idea to take us camping during Phillip's visit.  Of course, Joyce thought it was a good idea.  I swear she and Max cooked this up at work.  Before Christian reparative therapy, there was my mother and her sending me out to do boy things like camping in the wild and playing baseball.  The only sport I enjoyed was bowling.  That is a sport right?  Since I no longer participated on the bowling league since our move to suburbia, Joyce would try to balance my dance lessons -- couldn't give that up just yet, with some sort of boyish, butchy activity.  God bless her, she new her son was a poof and never let on.  I'm just realizing it now as I recall the time period I'm flooded with other examples throughout my childhood.




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Daddy?

The definition of the gay slang "Daddy" according to Wikipedia is as follows:

A Daddy in gay culture is a slang term meaning an older man sexually involved in a relationship or having a sexual interest in a younger man.  The age gap may differ, but the relationship involves the traditional parental hierarchy of father-son dynamics, the daddy providing emotional support and guidance along with sexual encouragement and nurturing to the inexperienced and vulnerable partner.  Often these relationships are categorized as either "Daddy and boi" or "Dad and son," although this is not absolute, and some relationships prefer no labels.  Dad, or Daddy, are completely different from the similarly labeled sugar daddy, although this can sometimes lead to some confusion.

The definition does not provide a qualifying age as to when a person crosses the realm of Daddy.  It describes the relationship of older to younger.  Does that mean I'm a "Daddy" if I date someone who is 50?  Or, is it the dynamic of the relationship.  I would not consider a fifty year old to be a son or boi.  We would just be two mature men in a committed relationship.  The label of "Daddy" does not appeal to me but by definition if I'm the more experienced in the relationship I would be the Daddy if we choose to utilize labels.

So, are the younger (I mean really young 20 something) guys who have been reaching out to me lately looking for a Daddy?  When asked they indicate they like more experienced men and age is nothing but a number, however, my head just cannot wrap around someone who could literally be my son.  The "youngins", as I like to call them, are really aggressive and have an answer to every question of why it will not happen as to why it can.  Remaining gracious is sometimes difficult.  The situation brings me back to when I was a "youngin" and older men would pursue me.  I didn't want to be a son then and I do not want to be a daddy now.

These Three Words...

No, this is not a Stevie Wonder reference where the words are "I Love You".  There are times when something is said to you and no matter how hard you try to let it go, the comment stays with you and evokes anxiousness in your being when it enters your thoughts.  Recently, I've been labeled as off-putting, condescending, and dismissive. No, this isn't the first time that these behaviors were evoked by someone. Usually it is a work related incident that brings this out of me.  Well, that's the only time that these labels are applied.  So is it really me?  The fictional character, Forest Gump said; "Stupid is what stupid does".  I guess when I recognize "stupid" these characteristics just show up.  I've always been dismissive, even as a child.  Always the bearer of the word "NO".  My mother would say to me that it's not what you say but how you say it.  To me, a "no" is a "no" regardless of how much sugar is dumped on it or how many flowers surround it.  Every rejection is not up for discussion, so yes at work there have been times when I may have been dismissive, off-putting, and or condescending.

My source for the definitions below is the Miriam Webster's online dictionary.  I just had to see if I understood the definition of these words and if they were accurate to my predicament.  

• off–put·ting adjective \-ˌpu̇-tiŋ\ : not pleasing or likable : causing you to feel dislike of someone or something.
• con·de·scend·ing adjective \ˌkän-di-ˈsen-diŋ\ : showing that you believe you are more intelligent or better than other people.
• dismissive adjective of:  dis·miss verb \dis-ˈmis\ : to decide not to think about or consider (something or someone) : to send (someone) away : to cause or allow (someone) to leave : to officially make (someone) leave a job : to end the employment or service of (someone).

Well, unfortunately the definitions are somewhat accurate.  Off-putting was a new description of me that I earned in the past few years.  I did not know what it meant until I looked it up.  I discovered that not only do I cause people to dislike me or my actions but every day I feel the same way towards someone especially at work.  The story of my life, no reference to One Direction, has been full of off-putting comments and actions towards me.  Should I have filed complaints towards co-workers or called acquaintances on their actions/comments?  I've chosen to distance myself from those individuals which works well with acquaintances.  Co-workers are a different story.  If I work directly with them then I only deal with them when work requires it.  Indirect co-workers are basically ignored.  The encounter with them is usually a one time occurrence or very infrequent.  In life you will come upon people that cause you to dislike them or something they did.  It's inevitable since we are human.  For example, I dislike when a person honks their horn at another driver because they did not step on the gas peddle fast enough when the light turned green.  That is off-putting to me.  Should I call 911?  Why, the person may be having an off moment or day for that matter.  My discomfort will subside by the next intersection or two.  For the most part my boundaries have been enlarged to include those who may cause a feeling of dislike.  I at least give them the opportunity to reverse that feeling by getting to know who they really are.  They are no longer immediately dismissed from my circle and I have discovered in most cases it was the subject matter or situation that caused them to react in a manner that I viewed as off-putting.  By not surcumming to my inner childlike emotions when my feelings would get hurt, I gave the individual the benefit of the doubt by not taking it personally.  Who would have thought that by not wining because of my over sensitivity I would have the opportunity to get to know some pretty amazing people.  Yes, there are still those that given a second and sometimes third chance they are just who they are.  There was no bad day or moment.  They are truly off-putting.  The late Maya Angelou through Oprah said; "when a person shows you who they are believe them".  Sometimes the first time isn't enough to convince you.

The second word, condescending, is one that has followed me since childhood.  I mean, I've had teachers tell me and my mother in parent teacher conferences, the same thing.  Teachers for goodness sake; insecure much.  Showing that I believe I am more intelligent or better than other people is not a conscious behavior.  I don't even know when or if I'm doing it.  What I do know is that it is subjective.  I've always dressed well, carried myself well, and spoke well.  What I know; I know and what I don't know I freely admit.  My accusers of this behavior are usually those who are more educated than myself since I only have a Baccalaureate degree.  Or, those who have been in the same position for so long that they do not realize there are other ways to accomplish tasks.  I don't believe I'm more intelligent than anyone else but when there are times when explaining things to the more experienced and educated I tend to utilize simple analogies when they have difficulty in understanding.  I'm being kind since the difficulty is usually resistance to the change or modification to a process or saying no to a practice that has been wrong for so long that it seems right.  If that is perceived as being condescending, guilty as charged and thus being off-putting.

Dismiss people much, heck yeah.  Sorry, my time and energy are valuable to me and when I feel someone is wasting it--DISMISSED.  I do think about and consider, briefly, what is being presented.  Most times I do not need to ponder and be reflective and when time is of the essence I may seem I gave no consideration at all.  I do, it's just to quick for most to comprehend and that is why they feel dismissed.

For the most part these three words do not say I love you.  They're more like "leave me alone".

I've Quit Smoking...

Well, let's say I've quit buying cigarettes and have switched to "vaping".  May 6, 2014 was the first day that I did not use (tobacco).  Vaping has allowed me to control the nicotine intake and today, September 29, 2014 I have switched to zero (0) nicotine level in the vape juice.  Tested it all weekend and found that I do vape more since there isn't a nicotine in take.  I guess my new addition is  "vaping".  Let's see how this works with my trip back to Atlanta in a few weeks.  The extra chargers, batteries, and vape juice have their own special carrying case.  lol.  

The vape journey began with the disposable brands which were weak and I continued using tobacco while vaping.  Splurging, I purchased the "Blue E-Cigarette".  That lasted all of a week before the charger stopped working.  Yes, I could have received a replacement by filling out some form and sending the item back to the manufacturer but I don't do the return hoops.  Normally, I just write it off as a loss.  I returned to the menthol cigarette.  My cousin "T", had an unusual e-cigarette.  Unusual meaning I never saw one like it.  The Kanger Pro-Tank 2.  The sleekness of the design caught my attention and the fact that she had been using it for almost a year without using tobacco sold me on trying it.  The start up cost wasn't cheap by no means.  Almost $100 to get started and then replacing batteries for more power and stocking up on juice, I spent nearly $300 but I would have spent that much on cigarettes over the past four months and I've spent more than that with the various quitting tools; smoking sensations, the patch, nicorette, hypnosis, and chantix.  This is the first tool, even though it is not advertised as a "stop smoking" aid or backed by smoking sensations, that actually worked for me.  Or, maybe my mind was finally right.  A "touch of emphysema" will do that to you.  Quitting now may reverse the damage, we'll see in November which is my next scheduled appointment.

Happy Birthday To Me

I was born on May 12, 1961 and today is my 53rd birthday.  Wow!  I didn't think I would make it this far.  I've lost so many people on the way here that at times guilt sets in for living.    That is something those of us who survived the HIV/AIDS epidemic in the 80's experience.  Even worse, depending how it's viewed, I've survived cancer and a heart attack.  Some may say I'm blessed other may call it luck.  I'm just trying to understand why am I still here?  Sorry, this is becoming a depressing post but these are things that are on my mind.  They, who is "they", say you shouldn't question GOD or the higher power.  If you don't question, how do you obtain the answers?  Not that I'm receiving some divine whisperer or something to answer my questions.

Well anyway, Happy Birthday to me.  Another year, four years after my heart attack and mother's death, five years after cancer treatment, and twenty four years after being diagnosed with HIV (undetectable).  I'm still here.  Smile?  Yes, today I will.