If it’s not one thing it’s another

This morning bright and early the county of San Bernardino started working on the wash behind my house. They claim it’s  for flood control purposes.

Maybe… Basically they’re making a straight flume that aims all the mud, rocks,and other debris right at a low bridge on one of the main roads into town.

The problem is that they’re running heavy equipment on the nice soft asphalt road that the residents on my street originally paid to have installed. Two years ago the Water Company had to tear up the road to replace the main water pipes. The County wouldn’t replace the road surface, so the Water Company ponied up the cash and they did. I have a lot of respect for my local Water Company guys.

The problem is that the county says on the one hand the road is private, so they won’t do snow removal in the Winter. But they won’t let us gate the road.

In summer, as they please, they drive all manner of heavy machines on the road causing damage that they won’t fix since its not a county maintained road.

So which is it? If it’s a private road, then the residents could put in an electric gate to keep the riff raff out. Since the county won’t let us gate the road claiming they have right of way, then the COUNTY should maintain the road, and provide snow removal.

Even speaking to the supervisor of this job today, once he called it a county road and once he called it a private road. I understand he’s just doing his job and I understand that his department is different from the road and snow removal departments.

I didn’t want to hassle him, and I told him that. I simply explained that the county plays fast and loose with their definitions and that it’s not fair. I asked him if he could simply avoid using my street with the heavy equipment.

The guy was a decent fellow. He explained that he really had no other choices. when his truck can’t back up and turn around after dumping a load of rock for the flood control channel (a.k.a. The wash) he has no other exit but our street.

Ya know, I had to concede that point. I looked around and after a second told this man he was right. He looked a bit shocked but told me that he’d do his level best to make sure the truck was empty and moving slow to minimize the stress on the street.

You know compromise between two honorable men usually works very well. True to his word, he’s minimizing his use of the road and I appreciate his effort.

If the county would accept responsibility for the street the other residents and I wouldn’t have any problem at all.

This honorable man suggested that I bring it up with the County Board of Supervisors to see if they’ll just accept the street and provide us with the services our taxes supposedly pay for.

You know in all it was a productive and reasonable conversation.

I love my God Son

I wasn’t planning on blogging today… well not entirely true. I did blog today it’s just that I wasn’t pleased with what I’d written and thought I’d take a breather.

Then I had an encounter with my Godson.

My Godson is just on the cusp of manhood. He’s above the age of being responsible for himself and being able to kill the enemies of our nation, but below the drinking age. (I’ve never been able to figure that one out.)

My Godson picked me, it wasn’t like I held his squalling, squirming, ass at his christening or anything. He simply announced one day about a year or two ago that he considered me his Godfather. I couldn’t back away from that kind of honor, so I owned it.

As the relationship has developed and deepened I’ve come to realize that I really love him very dearly as if he was my own child.

The first time he asked my advice about something. I actually got misty eyed.

I’ve also figured out that when he asks me questions he’s not necessarily taking my word as law, gospel or doing anything except testing and building his own thoughts and opinions based on the answers and opinions of several different people.

He’s a smart cookie. And I’m very proud of him, and our relationship.

Recently, he took me back to a subject that I hadn’t really thought about for a while.

I found myself saying to him;

“Manhood isn’t about sex, any idiot can put his dick in someone. Any moron can make a baby. Manhood is about accepting responsibility for your actions. It’s about doing the RIGHT thing even if it’s not the EASY thing. It’s about taking your lumps when you fuck up. It’s about honor, respect and duty. Men don’t demand respect, men earn respect.”

Then I was misty eyed again.

I explained that some of those words were from a very close friend of mine. Even though that friend is dead, his voice lives on through me.

As I sat to write this, I realized that in fact part of that statement is from my Father,  part is from John, and part is from me.

My Father and John were two “Men”.

I carry no pictures in my wallet. But I do carry their dog tags.

It’s my way of remembering these two men who left indelible marks on my life.

I’m hoping that I can leave as positive an impression on my Godson.

I hope that some day he’s describing manhood to his Son or Sons, adding his Fathers view and his own personal view, and that he gets misty eyed when he remembers he got some of his beliefs from me.

Right now, he’s at that age where he Knows the right thing. He just needs an occasional nudge to remind him that he Knows.

I’m very proud to sometimes be the one that gets to nudge him.

Well it looks like…

The car is fixed (Fingers Crossed)

My working out is paying off

Things aren’t as difficult to pick up and move. Bicycles, weights for patio umbrellas, tables (moved for cleaning).

But the best evidence is from my masseur.

Ya know he sees peoples bodies all day every day. He commented that I was bulking up since the last time he saw me (about 1 month ago). It was really nice of him to notice and comment on it.

Hes one of three masseurs in the LA area that has SERIOUS upper body strength.  I like him because like the other two he doesn’t fuck around with that stupid draping and just gets down to business.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen other folks junk or anything. Truth to tell I prefer my masseur to be naked right along with me. I hate the feel of fabric moving on my skin while I’m being massaged. It’s annoying and drags me back from where ever I’ve escaped to when I’m not screaming like a little girl.

And believe me… I scream like a little girl… A LOT!

By nature I’m pretty tense. Add to that some of the stuff that’s been going on in my life over the past 3 months and a workout every other day… well The last time Mark said I was like concrete.

Not so much now… just heading off for a workout…  I’m sure I’ll be good and tense the next time I see one of the guys.

I’m fortunate that the masseurs I’ve found are the real deal.

It’s hit and miss out there. Some masseurs are only about the happy ending. They’ll lightly rub my back, then vigorously rub my cock. Don’t get me wrong, happy endings are great but I’m not paying for a massage to get the happy ending.

Ya know, my hands work just fine! If I come to you for a massage, I want a fucking massage and you better not think otherwise.

Off the massage table… well we’re two consenting adults… Ahem

When I go to my usual guys, by the time they’re done with me…  Believe me! My Junk, a happy ending, even a hard on is the FURTHEST thing from my mind.

It’s pretty fucking hard to be perceived as “Macho” when five minutes before you were screaming like a school girl and begging for the dude to lighten up.

I have wondered on more than one occasion, if my masseurs are secretly into some kind of BDSM.

If they are they must really get their jollies with me! But then again what does it say about me… that I keep going back?