Thursday, February 15, 2024

Where ?

 


* "I'm just going to the Super Bowl celebration tonight. I'll be safe there."

* "My children are at school. Who doesn't love children? Who would want to harm them?"

* "Honey, I'm going to the grocery store. Be back soon."

* I am going out for a jog. I won’t be bothering anyone."

* "Hi, Dad. I love it here at college."

* "Postage stamps are up again. At least it's safe here."

* "I cannot wait to get home from work, but yeesh, the traffic is at a standstill."

* "This concert in Las Vegas is so great! I'm having a ball!"

* "Hey Susie! Wanna go to the mall?"

* "The Godzilla movie is coming out tonight. Wanna go early? It's going to be packed!"

* "Honey, I'll be late tonight. Don't forget tonight is our men's league baseball game at the park."

* "I love my job at the Capitol Building."

* "I'm minding my own business."

* "We're going to the Black Lives Matter rally."

* "My car broke down. Can I use your phone to call for a tow truck?"

* "Honey, do you need anything from Walmart?"

* "(knock knock) "I'm lost. Can you tell me where the nearest (fill in the blank) is?"

* "I just heard gunshots down the street. Thankfully, we're safe in our home."

* "I'm walking home from my friend's dinner party." **

* "Man, work has been so intense of late. They just fired Tom."

* "Church services were great last Sunday. Can't wait to go back tomorrow."

* "What are you doing in this neighborhood?"

* "My gun is tucked safely away under my bed where no one can find it. Johnny, you stay out of my room!"

* "Not sure why, but the Proud Boys are protesting at the library."

* "Can you show me your driver's license?"

Tell me, what has happened to our country, our world?



** My friend Eric's son was killed walking home one summer night on a "safe" Philadelphia street.

Thursday, February 1, 2024

Happy birthday, son!

 


47 years ago this afternoon (even though it seems like yesterday) I was at work at Pike Lumber Company when my (then) wife Phyllis called me and said, “Now be calm. I’m not sure but I think I’m in labor.” I asked if she wanted me to come home, and she said, “No, not now, but if I need you, I’ll call.” I worked with her Dad so I crossed over to his workspace to let him know.

You have to know her Dad Abe, and also my boss Tony—both pranksters supreme. For the rest of the afternoon, every time the sawmill phone rang, I was sure it was Phyllis. Little did I know our plant manager was sitting in the bunkhouse calling and Tony would not answer the phone. He just let it ring and ring and… I was going crazy!

When I got home, Phyllis was pretty certain she was in labor but all we could do was wait. Late that night, around 3 am Phyllis was awake and had called the hospital to let them know her condition. Somehow I slept through all of this, but she awoke me, as I recall around 4:30 am. We arrived at Rochester’s old Woodlawn Hospital, a ten-mile drive from home, just after 5. She was wheeled into the delivery prep room where we waited for the doctor.

Just around 5:50 we were escorted to the delivery room… our bundle of joy, our baby boy Wesley Adam, was born at 6:16 am on February 1st, 1977.

During delivery, I almost got thrown out of the room. When the needles came out (for a local) I covered my eyes. The doc said, “If you’re going to get squeamish, you should leave.” I was fine, I said… once you put the needles away. So brave I was (haha).

The nurses told Phyllis afterward that that was one of the quickest deliveries they had ever seen, and if we planned on having any other kids we should camp out at the hospital.

Soon, all of our parents arrived (mine, that is). We lived with Phyllis’ parents at that time so they actually drove us to the hospital.

Anyhow, the most precious moment of our 19-year-old lives arrived that morning, and our lives were never the same after that.

These are, of course, my recollections. I’m sure Wes’ Mom Phyllis has even more stories to tell. This is my story of becoming a Daddy; it is Phyllis’ story of becoming a stupendous Mommy. A story about the happiest moment of our lives.

Happy birthday, Wes. Your parents love you!

Sunday, December 10, 2023

Smiles, everybody, smiles

When Stephen and I sat eating breakfast this morning, I noticed a few Facebook posts from friends that led to thoughts of life churning in my thoughts. As we prepared to leave, we ran into two of my dearest longtime friends, Hank and Nancy Mascotte.

I have long known the friends we keep make the journey. Stephen and I treasure our friends. Yesterday, two of our dear friends faced the ultimate crossroads in life's journey. I "met" Beth Riches, Shane's cousin, on Facebook while I was stationed in Afghanistan in 2009. Not long after redeploying home, I met both Beth and her husband Ken. I liked them both from the word go. 

We met only occasionally, usually dining out, or when hanging out for special gatherings. In 2010, the two of them took me to see Devo in concert for my birthday. Holiday dinners, barhopping, concerts (John Mellencamp, for example--okay, Ken had to miss that one), Beth and Ken (with an assist from Matt and Shane) hosted several private concerts, inviting Stephen and me last year. At no time whenever we were together were there not laughter and good times.

Beth and Ken are the epitome of warm, caring, embracing friends. Nay--more like family. Ken was always friendly, quick to a joke, insightful comments, and a ready-knowing smile. If you ever see any of Beth and Ken's photos together, there is a constant: fun, joviality, smiles, BIG smiles (Mr. Roarke would be proud).

I cannot recall how many years distant it has been Ken when was diagnosed with a form of leukemia. After a long, tough battle Ken overcame it. Ken's strong personality would not easily accept defeat. These past six months, however, Ken's health presented him with new challenges.

Ken quietly passed away yesterday afternoon. Beth and Ken's two adult children were with him when he crossed over to what exists for us in the afterlife. I would like to think he is soaring in the stars.

Ken, you will be missed by your family and friends from all around this country.

Sunday, December 3, 2023

Invisible in plain sight

Recently, I was asked to speak about being gay, specifically gay in the workplace. I do not exactly like the term ‘coming out.’ I believe living one’s life to truth, the truth of who we are. Is it always that simple? Hardly.

In my life, living out arrived in a wave of stages. In the time when I was a teen, living truth to my nature was not an easy thing. I knew I was different. I knew I was not like other boys my age, but I did not understand the implications. In the 1970s we did not talk about those things. Living one’s truth, at times, takes courage. At that point I was a scared young man with no one to share my fears.

The short of it is, I married and knew it was wrong, but I was too scared to do otherwise.

Jumping ahead, after seven years I could no longer deny my truth. After my divorce, I made a promise to myself where I would lead a life on honesty. In the workplace, I kept that vow.

Did I stand in the window and proclaim for all to see and hear, “I am gay! I’m here! I’m queer?” Nope. Not that either. I did not feel that need. I mean, do straight people proclaim their heterosexuality? That, by no means, means that I hid either. In my day-to-day conversations and interactions, I lived a life as me. I have often joked that I can be me, I cannot be you.

If a friend cared, they knew who I was. If I felt a need to share that aspect of my life I did so. When I worked at Fox Photo, that worked against me. In 1985 I was up for a promotion in my department and I was passed over. When I learned it was because of being gay, I made some waves. I was told I was not passed over for being gay, BUT was then told “I have to understand we do not live in San Francisco.” I was also told if I did not like it, I could also work elsewhere.

In 1985, companies could get away with that sort of thing. My boss was right, we did not live in San Francisco. I lived in Indiana where being gay in many eyes was not acceptable, and in a “right to work” state, companies can, all to often, do as they please.

Not long after that I left and decided to go to college to fulfill a lifelong dream to be a teacher. College afforded me to work in an enlightened environment where intelligence rules over ignorance. College is not necessarily the real world. There, I did live my truth. As a student, I, and four other men, formed Indiana University at South Bend’s first gay social group, OUT-IUSB. We were met with some resistance but in the end, we succeeded in launching the group. The group exists to this day (under a different name).

As I ventured out into the world I stepped up as an educator, and sadly I quickly realized I would need to compartmentalize my being. Being out as a brand-new teacher would not come easily. Knowing I would need to learn to be a good teacher first, that was not an issue for me. I was a temp my first year, filling a position for a teacher on medical leave.

The funny thing about being a single man at the age 32, and perhaps because of my gentle nature, some kids assumed I was gay, some never gave it a thought, or could have cared less. I did face down a couple homophobic students, and much to their disdain, my school protected me. One student, in particular, who was already walking on thin ice, ended up on academic probation because of her behaviors.

When the teacher returned, I continued as a sub.

A number of years later, I took a job at Notre Dame. You might think being out at a Catholic school would be dangerous. Amazingly, I found just the opposite. Living my life as who I am earned me respect from my peers and management.

It was at this time I decided to pursue another of my life’s childhood dreams. After President Bill Clinton signed the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” legislature I made moves to join the U.S. Navy Reserve. It was perhaps the best move I made in my life. Of course, this did mean I had to take a small step back and while I lived my life no differently, I did take a more conservative bent while serving, at least for my first five years as a Sailor.

I am not exactly sure how successful I was about this tack. When I joined a Navy public affairs unit in Chicago, I found a welcoming environment… to a degree… In my 21 years in the Navy, I came to know that no one with whom I worked could care less. Occasionally my colleagues would make a joke with a wink that let me know I was safe there.

Being gay in the military, I believe, the attitudes from most of the ranks was a non-issue. The one who did care, the ones who made it an issue were either unenlightened and insecure in their own skins, or those who had to answer to politicians who love using gays as a wedge issue.

When President Obama signed legislature making it legal to serve with no risk of expulsion, I continued life as usual. Did I throw open the doors? No, but I made no efforts to hide either.

I have been a lucky man. My jobs through the years were places where I felt I could make a difference, especially as a Sailor and a high school teacher. I have worked in jobs where I made friends who I cared for, and who cared for me.

My point of this essay is to say this: Whether you are gay, straight, trans and any of the alphabet identifiers, it is imperative to be true to your nature. Staying true to yourself, you will find allies who matter and if they are not your ally, they do not matter.

Since we spend so much of our lives working, being comfortable in one’s skin is the only way to be happy, sane, and productive.

Being who we are is not a choice, being out is. If living a lie means being miserable in our jobs, it is time to evaluate our priorities.

Life is just too short.