Category: Family

Posted on

"hi"

That is why I’m on fewer and fewer “adult oriented” social media sites.

“hi”

I hate that! I go to the trouble of creating a fairly complete profile, I specifically state who I am, my hobbies, interests, and a small bit of humorous information about me precisely so that the reader has enough to

a) Decide if they’d like to speak to me
b) Have something around which to start a conversation.

“‘sup?”

How about a complete sentence or better yet a whole thought?

Something like;

Hi there, I enjoyed reading your profile. You’re a SCUBA diver? I’m curious about it, but worry that it’s too expensive for my budget. Would you have time to give me a basic run down from your perspective?

At least there is a basis for a conversation.

Or how about a sender saying;

Dammn! you’re handsome… wanna fuck?


I could handle and respect that and at least it’s not wasting my time and burning through my patience with inane one word responses that pass as a conversation. Hell I could program my phone or computer to answer with one randomly chosen word in response to your one word “Conversation Starters”.

“what are you doing?”


This is another major time waster… how do I answer that? Would it be appropriate for me to say;

I’m taking a huge dump and wondering if I’ve got time to jerk off before I have to get dressed for that church service?


I’ve often thought about answering that way but frankly I fear the string of one or two word responses that I’d have to respond to.

I can picture something like;

“Cool”
“like to suck you.”
“ummm hot”


Of course if I look up the senders location it’s one extreme or the other. It’s always the sender is somewhere like Cambodia. Or the sender is 5 miles away and I when I say GREAT! Come on over I could use a blowjob. I’d like to see my cum dripping from your chin


Then suddenly, the conversation stops. Or there are endless excuses…

You know, if you’re going to say you’d like to suck my dick…

Put your mouth where my dick is!

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Guess I’m getting a tad old

My brother took an extended lay-over on his way to Mexico.
It was good seeing him and as always I count myself lucky to have someone like him in my life.
I picked him up from the airport on Wednesday in the rain.
The only crappy thing was a guy who was 1) an asshole 2) obviously having a bad day. I was making the approach to the terminal doing about 10 miles an hour and looking at the terminal curbside for a place to park.
Yeah I was a bit distracted and in the rain my visibility was reduced. Not meant as excuses just statement of facts.
I was, as I said driving pretty slowly (Actually the posted speed limit for once!) I’d looked ahead of me saw nothing and then out of the corner of my eye I see movement. Fuck! I think. Where did he come from? This guy was in the crosswalk and I’d have sworn that there hadn’t been anybody in that crosswalk just a second before. I must have missed him, before I can apologize… He’s hitting the side of my car with his bag.
Ya know, I made a mistake. But that is no reason to fucking damage the car.
I’ve never understood that attitude.
Yes, pedestrians have the right of way in California. But pedestrians can see something as large as a car far more easily than a driver in a car can see them. I’ve been on the other side. I’ve had close calls in crosswalks. On a bright sunny day when I make eye contact with a driver there is no excuse, on a foggy, rainy day or at twilight, you know it’s easy for me to stop and chalk it up to the driver not seeing me.
But I wouldn’t hit someones car, especially on rain slicked roads where if the driver panics and slams on their brakes there is a potential for the car to fishtale, spin, or slide dangerously.
All I can say is, dude… I hope you weren’t going to New York. That attitude of yours will get you hit by a car or get your knees broken by someone with a worse attitude than yours and a lot of pride in their car.
I’ve often thought that California should change it’s pedestrian laws to be consistent with the rest of the country.
Since we have so many foreign drivers and transplants from other states. You really can’t count on anyone to stop anymore. I guess the only advantage is that if you’re hit in a crosswalk the law and insurance is on your side, that would probably be true anyway. Of course that’s predicated on the person that hit you actually stopping. All too often now the driver splits.
On the next circuit around the airport I see my Brother at the curb. It was perfect timing. I pop the trunk, he drops his bag in and we’re on the way out to the freeway.
We had a great visit.
He’s so much like me in many ways and at the same time he’s very different. I enjoy spending time with him.
He pointed out that it’s my turn to come visit him and he’s right. I’ve never been to Minnesota, of course I question if this is the time of year to be visiting Minnesota the fall has got to be pretty on the other hand I can’t afford to get snowed in.
My brother was here for a day and a half.
The day we spent together was fun we took the day slow and checked out the Air Museum in Chino. I’d never been there and I’ll definitely go back. They’ve got a nice operation there.
I was impressed that my brother knew the model of dang near every plane in the collection on sight.
It was also surprising to me how the physical sizes of the planes was not what I expected. I’ve been around Cessnas, and private business jets but had only seen pictures of a lot of the planes in this collection.
Most of the pictures I’m familiar with give no sense of scale.

The WWII fighters were larger than I expected and that some bombers were smaller than I expected. There was a V1 Buzz Bomb on display. It was surprisingly small. At first I thought it was a mockup but it wasn’t, it had been lovingly restored just like all the other Aircraft in the collection.

Unfortunately, we didn’t have a lot of time but it was worth the visit even with a limited time. We got there later than we intended… My fault! Got a little lost, in part because the GPS in the car had no idea the street the museum is on existed. My phone on the other hand took us right to the front door… I paid $200 for a software update in the car, why????

After we left the Museum we went to a winery. He’d never done wine tasting and even though we were a bit rushed there we had some fun.
The wine tasting started a night of drinking.
My Brother will tell you that I was the instigator… Not true!
We started at the Wrightwood Inn, one of my preferred places to sit and have a drink.
Then we went to The Yodeler and had a couple of burgers. I’d had enough JD that I decided to have coke with my meal. He had a big bottle of Arrogant Bastard Ale. Then we went back to the Inn and had a few more drinks.
The thing I like about drinking in town is that I can walk home if I have too much. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary.
5AM comes quick the morning after…
He had a 10AM flight out of LAX. add a two hour drive from here to get him to the airport. Since he’s on an international flight they recommend that the traveler arrive at the airport 2 hours prior to departure which means that he needed to be at LAX by about 8AM. We left the house slightly after 6AM. My Bro was trashed….
I’m not sure if he was hung over but he was definitely hurting…
Hey, what are big brothers supposed to do? Isn’t this a normal thing? Aren’t you supposed to put your brother on a plane to Mexico with a strong desire to yak all over the place?
He slept off & on while I dealt with traffic, and was feeling better by the time we actually got to the airport.
Now I have to figure out how I’m going to mess him up when I put him on the plane for home in a month.
I didn’t want to let him know that I was hurting too. I did alright getting to and from the airport, but when I got home I crashed. It felt like I’d been hit by a truck.
I’m doing better this morning, but I have no desire to do anything except maybe go for a bicycle ride.
Even that is questionable…
I guess I’m getting too old for long nights of hard drinking.

I’m not quite as antique as this plane. 
Posted on

Wow! Time Flies

A friend pointed out that I written anything for a week.

I honestly don’t know where the time went.

I was doing things,  working out, reading, searching for a job, etc. The days have kind of run together, this may be a bad sign.

Monday of this week all the phones and internet into town were taken offline by some Edison workers who forgot to check where they were planning to do some digging. They took out 20 T-1 and 5 T-3 lines as well as the phones and cell service when they cut through a fiber optic cable.

I was curious about what was going on. I still had cell service but then I have an unobstructed view of the desert so I think I was hitting a cell tower out there. I’d reported a problem to Verizon, then turned on the ham radio.

Interesting to follow the local Citizen Emergency Response Team. I really hadn’t thought of the situation as an emergency but as I listened to the CERT Folks I realized that 911 was also down and that there are a lot of shut-ins here in town. Without Phones, and 911 they could easily have a problem and not be able to reach anyone. The CERT folks have a plan. As I listened it sounded like there were a few bumps in the road but they all handled the situation really well. Depending on the job front and the time constraints imposed by the inevitable commute I may get involved with these folks.

Of course if my job path takes me out of the state I can always join a similar group where I end up.

My Brother is arriving today. I’m looking forward to spending some time with him. I have no great plans but perhaps we’ll head out randomly and see what trouble we can get into.

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Re-Evalution in old relationships

I’m from The South.
No, I’m not a “The South shall rise again” kind of guy. That ship has sailed and I, like most of the Southerners I know are good with it.
I was born and raised South of the Mason-Dixon line. I’m proud of where I came from. I’m proud of the freedoms I enjoyed as a child and that I was safe no matter where I was in my local environment.
I’ve been thinking about being from The South because of a rather disturbing email exchange with someone I’ve known for years. I’m astounded at how after all this time, this person is comfortable denigrating all things Southern including apparently Me.
This characterization was in response to my mentioning offhandedly and with a certain amount of tongue in cheek that I had earthquake supplies, a personal plan, at least one gun with ammo, and that my family had a loose plan to meet at a central location in the event of some serious catastrophe.
I’ve got enough in emergency supplies to feed 2 people for at least 12 days. That’s BEFORE I have to get creative with water, or start hunting. I honestly think that I should have more, but this, as a minimum will do. I also think that I’m going to be feeding several of my neighbors who for one reason or another won’t be able to feed themselves.
My family seems to have always had a motto, “Better to have a plan you don’t need, than to need a plan you don’t have.” I don’t know if I read that somewhere and am using it to describe our desire to be ready for trouble or if it was something my Dad & Granddad said.
The next series of email responses frankly blew my mind.
In the course of the emails this person painted me as an irrelevant, ignorant, ammo hoarding, gun toting, survivalist, neo-nazi, with no social conscience, who was waiting for the end times!
It was as though because I wasn’t complacently expecting for the government to simply take care of me that somehow I was “Wrong-headed”.
When someone you know takes you to task like this, you can do a few things. Get offended, Get Angry, or Re-evaluate your stance.
99% of the time, I’ll pick door number 1 or door number 2. In this situation because of the long standing relationship and the fact that I have a lot of respect for this person, I chose door number 3.
I thought about my childhood and how that had shaped the man I would become. A man, by the way that in general I’m proud to be. I’m comfortable in my skin and getting more so with each passing day.

I’m shocked every time I encounter the kind of thinking that suggests somehow the South is full of a bunch of ignorant savages.

It’s astounding that educated, “Fair-Minded”, liberal people, get away with painting a picture suggesting that everyone in, or from The South are racist, rednecks, with rifles slung over their shoulders and pistols in their ass cracks. This characterization couldn’t be further from the truth…

Honestly, as a Southerner I find the generalization offensive. Particularly when these generalizations are delivered by people that supposedly know me.

Posted on

Moving VERY slow this morning

I didn’t get home until after 2 and didn’t get to bed until almost 3:30 it was worth it.

I visited an acquaintance / friend  last night. I had the nicest time and shared intimacy with him that is often rare between two men regardless of their orientation. Perhaps due to this intimacy I’m inclined to think of him more as a friend and less as an acquaintance now.

My friend has recently been through a life changing event. He experienced a Patellar tendon rupture while playing volleyball.

He’s been through the surgery to repair the damage and as we talked I realized that he had been through this whole mess pretty much on his own. He’s had one or two friends that looked in on him during the initial phases of the injury and recovery. After that, essentially he’s been on his own. He’s healing nicely, still wearing a brace but the mobility of his knee is pretty good albeit slow and careful.

As we talked he mentioned that immediately after the injury, In between his thinking “GOD that hurts” and “But this is my good leg” he also had the depressing thought that all of his travel plans for the summer were shot to hell.

He’s also found that he had more than a few “Fair Weather Friends” With him out of commission several folks have simply vanished. Not the least of which was a model he’d been seeing that was pushing for a relationship after only a few dates. This person was oblivious to how life altering it is to one moment be playing volleyball in the sun, and the next to be hobbling around on crutches. Or how depressing it is when you’re facing at least one surgery and a fairly long recovery time, with the possibility of NEVER being back to normal.

A couple of days ago my friend broke it off with the model, the hell of it was that he wasn’t sure that the model was really out of the previous relationship anyway.

His birthday is within the next week. I asked him what he’d like for his birthday.

He said “some cuddle time. To be touched and held for just a little while.”

Dinner was over, the bill paid, wine glasses empty, it was time to take him back to his place. He’s pretty mobile but slow. I held doors for him, helped where I could and stayed out of the way when it looked like he was handling things ok.

There’s this really fine line between helping someone with an injury and just being in the way. That line varies by individual, terrain, situation, and type of injury. It’s never inappropriate to offer a helping hand to anyone.

If you offer to help… have the grace to accept that your offer may be turned down and not take it personally.

My friend was grateful to be home. It showed on his face. Even though he seemed to feel that he needed to entertain me as his guest. I wasn’t comfortable with him trying to be a good host…

So I sent him to his room.

Then I went to the kitchen, found a nice bottle of wine, two glasses, an ice pack from his freezer, and joined him in his room.

I don’t know if I’m unique in this, but another mans bedroom is a sacred space. Off limits, unless you’re invited in. The other thing about a mans bedroom is that his scent, (no not stinky stuff) is strongest there.

Each man has a very unique scent. Some pleasant, some not so much… however all are unique. My friends room and scent were pleasant. Despite his recent injury and subsequent recovery process his room was comfortable and neat.

His personal scent was clean, spicy, with a light touch of musk (not the cologne kind) and earthy. These scents are indicators that reach me on an instinctive level about a mans general health. Personally, I’m always suspicious of anyone that wears really heavy colognes and if their room or home reeks of it then I’m really put off.

He was lying on his bed wincing a bit as he settled in. He’d taken off the brace but still had his shoes on and was out of breath from moving in unnatural ways to protect the knee.

He smiled when he saw the wine, and grinned when he saw the ice pack. If he’d been a dog he’d have been wagging his tail and panting.

I started to hand him the pack, but he asked if I’d position it. He really looked tired I suspected that an earlier physical therapy appointment, his day, and dinner had really taken a toll on him. He closed his eyes and breathed a big sigh when the cool pack touched his knee.

I poured the wine and handed him a glass, then helped him get his shoes off.

While next to him on the bed with my wine, we talked about life, the universe, everything. He talked about the model, the strangeness of the short lived relationship, and the confusion he felt about the models desire to take the relationship beyond casual so quickly.

I think he’s happier to be out of that relationship than he’s willing to admit. He’s also perhaps a little regretful because after all it was a model, He’s a guy, and like most of us he’s primarily visually oriented. After all we all like to know we’re with the hottest person in the room.

My friend is a muscular massage therapist. (A REAL massage therapist, not one of those butt rub twinks that wants to jerk you off for $120 calling it a massage.)

I thought about his birthday request and that he’s a massage therapist and came to a decision.

“Would you like for me to give you a massage? I’m completely unskilled but I’ll do my best.”

He looked at me and without hesitation said “Yes, that would be very nice.”

I helped him out of his clothes and then got out of mine. Skin cleans easier than clothes, especially if you’re working with lotions or oils. It’s not like he hadn’t seen me naked before. I’ve subjected myself to his “Tender Mercies” (aka screaming like a school girl) on several occasions.

As I started working on his neck and shoulders he just groaned. He told me that I was one of the few people he knew that had ever offered to massage him. I suggested that people were intimidated and fearful that he would be judging their technique because he was a professional CMT. I kept working on him asking if I was hurting him.

He groaned, as I rubbed the tense muscles following his spine and the boundary between his trapezius and deltoid. “That’s nice..”

Slowly over the next couple of hours with breaks for occasional refills of our glasses and swapping out his ice packs, I worked as methodically as I could down his body. I was using what I remembered from being on the receiving end of good massages and my personal training experience to target his over used muscles.

Realize, that having an injury which affects your ability to walk puts stress on many muscles outside the injury  because they’re called upon to work in unusual ways. It’s a natural part of your body protecting the injury site and trying to redistribute the load so that your injury can heal.

I went to go get him another ice pack. When I came back to the room he was reclining with a big smile. “That was nice. I had to roll over ’cause my body doesn’t like being in that position for too long. I can’t even sleep face down.”

I put the new ice pack in place and crawled onto the bed beside him. He pretty much bear hugged me and told me thank you.  We talked for a while about more of life, the universe, and everything while I worked on his pecs. After I’d done all I could I just laid down beside him.

We were quiet for a while. Just two men, relaxed, no masks, no fear, no expectations, no demands. Listening to each others hearts and breathing on a warm summer night, somehow this time was as healing to me as I hope it was to him.

After an indeterminate time, he groaned.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh there are some flexibility exercises I still need to do. Would you help me?”

“Of course, you’ll need to walk me through what I need to do.”

So I helped him with the exercises mostly as a spotter and sometimes as a brake when his muscles gave out.

After his exercises we held each other for a while longer. I was gently caressing him, drawing the occasional sigh of contentment.

I was also enjoying a bit of one of my recently discovered / admitted to kinks. I was enjoying “serving”. It was emotionally satisfying for me to serve, help, and comfort this man.

A while later he invited me to join him in a shower, we bathed each other cleaning the lotion, and sweat off each other,  again enjoying the intimate peace between us.

Standing there in the shower watching me while I washed his legs and gingerly cleaned his swollen knee he gets this big grin and says “I’ve got some great chocolate ice cream, you want some?”

“Of course!” Hey I’m a sucker for good chocolate! The only thing I like better is sorbet…

While we were munching our well after midnight snack. He commented about how nice it was to have spent the time together the way we did. The intimacy was just what he needed.

Many people that he works with or socializes with are about sex. Admittedly, I can see why. My friend is a big handsome guy. He has always been an athlete and that lifelong habit shows in every aspect of his body. He’s got a bit of a body builders physique and well… god was generous in other ways too.

We were talking about the difference between just sex… (Usually fun), Intimate loving sex… (Fucking great), and Intimacy which we both agree is all too infrequent.

The problem seems to be that intimacy requires vulnerability. You can’t be intimate if you’ve got your guard up. If you’re having a casual fuck you’re likely to be somewhat guarded eve as you pump your load out in a gut wrenching orgasm. Casual fucking is fun don’t get me wrong, but by it’s nature, it’s not very intimate.

Even in relationships there are times when you just don’t want to be vulnerable. The trouble seems to be that we habitually keep our guard up even with those that we should be intimate with. We forget how to be unguarded and completely honest with each other.

I suppose that’s why the time last night was so special.

For several hours I was able to be completely myself, at peace, and had the pleasure of sharing that with someone else who was equally unguarded.

It may never happen again with him. It could have been simply that he was forced to be vulnerable because hes injured. It doesn’t matter why,  it’s a memory that I’ll always appreciate.

I’m going to have to be more open to the possibilities too.

Now that I’ve had a taste…. I want MORE.