Not that anyone's interested but here are my ancestral regions as a result of two different DNA tests. Not a Latin bone in my body. I knew that already.
In not too many years I'll have a chance to visit my ancestors in person. I am looking forward to that!
The summer season is on full bloom!
Last weekend was Memorial Day Weekend, traditionally the start of the summer season. However, last weekend was a washout. It rained every day. Didn't bother me because I don't go down to the boardwalk in Rehoboth Beach and I certainly wouldn't go down on the start of the summer season. I stopped doing that years ago. It just wasn't worth the hassle of people, traffic and parking. The only exception I make is when Pat comes down. I let him do the driving. He likes all that activity and of course I like being with Pat. I enjoy life and all the activities so much more when I'm with Pat. Bill was like me, a stay at home. I'm sort of in the middle. I like activity but not by myself. I did that for many years when I was with Bill.
Pat will be here next week (Sunday). After a day's rest (he drives down), we'll take on the Summer Season at the Nation's Summer Resort.
Note:
I've decided to approve any comments on get on this blog. There is a troll who takes delight in leaving hateful comments. She knows who she is and I do too. My apologies if I inconvenience anyone else who has been following my blog. Shouldn't make too much difference anyway because I don't receive that many comments. Those I do I appreciate and value.
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| Me and my Canadian husband, Pat. |
Of all the horrible and despicable things Trump has done, and they are legion, the one thing I can never forgive him for is permanently damaging the United States relationship with Canada.
Canada is our best neighbor and ally.
Canada and the United States are the only countries in the world who have never been aggressive towards one another......until now.
Trump, who views anyone or country who is nice as a weakness in his mob mentality mind, has chosen to bully Canada. Of course Canada cannot and will not be bullied, especially by a fake bully like Trump.
Since I met Pat I have visited Canada several times. Every time I visited I felt the pressure of hate release. Canada has a very diverse population. One thing I noticed right away (and I wasn't looking for it) was the absence of glares from so many white people of others who looked different and were dressed differently than they were. Especially the Muslims with their 10th century gowns that so many of them still wear. I can just imagine the hateful stares a Muslim would receive at a Home Depot of Lowes should they appear in that garb.
Since I married Pat, some people have asked me "Why didn't you move to Canada?" Great question! Believe me, I thought of it seriously. However the main reason I cannot move to Canada is the reason I'm in Delaware.....taxes. Canada has high taxes. I moved from Pennsylvania to Delaware because I could no longer afford to pay the high school and real estate taxes in Pennsylvania. I loved living in Philly but I couldn't afford those taxes either. Philly's sales tax is 8%. Canada's is 15%......on everything including groceries and clothing. At least Pennsylvania doesn't charge sales tax on those items.
Another reason I wouldn't move to Canada is because I'm an American and I refuse to be run out of my own country by Trump and his thug Republican enablers.
I still believe in the basic goodness of Americans even though so many have been revealed to be Trump supporters, which I will never understand as long as I live. That they can't see the con man who is destroying America is beyond my comprehension. Maybe in my Afterlife that answer will be revealed.
But for now I'll weather the storm that is the Trump Disaster.
Today is Memorial Day weekend here in the summer beach capital Rehoboth Beach and environs.
Unfortunately it is also chilly and rainy. That the forecast for this weekend and next week.
The following week Pat arrives from his cozy little home in Hamilton Canada for a two week visit with The Old Man here. I have a number of doctor's appointments which he will take me. I plan to introduce Pat to my doctor's as my eventual caregiver much the same way I did before I became Bill's full-time caregiver. Yes folks, that's the road I'm going down. Time to face reality.
By the way, I'm not sad at all that the weather is dreary and uninviting for the summertime beachgoers. Especially those "kids" from the University of Delaware who have recently targeted the Rehoboth Beach boardwalk for "events." Yes, it is what you think it is. A bunch of unruly "kids" trying to instigate riot or some such thing so they can loot the stores. Hey "kids" I have a tip for you, the stores in Rehobth Beach only have the Chinese made overpriced tourist souvenirs. No high end stores down here "kids." You better stick to Walnut Street in downtown Philadelphia for your riot produced "shopping" expeditions. See HERE:
I don't have anything scheduled for the rest of the month. Pat arrives early next month. I have a whole series of doctor's appointments, including the PET-SCAN to see how far (if) my returning prostate cancer has spread.
These days I'm pretty much exhausted. I can't do much else other than go through my regular routines of the day. By the end of the day around 9:30 to 10:00 PM I'm pretty much done.
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| Me and Don at "More Than Just Ice Cream" restaurant in center city Philly October 20, 2015 |
Next month when Pat comes down for his quarterly visit to Casa Tipton-Kelly, we're taking a few (two) days to visit Philly and my longtime friend Don McK.
I've known Don for at least sixty-two years. We met through our mutual friend Ron Hampton, who was my best friend during my Army days.
Don and I worked at two Philadelphia banks during our long friendship. We were both job eliminated during the Great Banking Merger era in the Eighties. I got a new job at another Philly bank and hired Don. After I left that bank Don continued working there. I had a few more banks to work for before I changed careers and went to work for hotels.
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| Me and Don some years earlier at our friend Bob McCamley's single wide in the woods outside Georgetown, Delaware sometime in the Eighties |
Over the years we have maintained our friendship. Don has been a steady and true friend. With the exception of Pat and my new friend Glenn M., Don is the only gay friend I have left.
I haven't seen Don in person since 2019, just when COVID hit. We've kept in touch via FaceTime though. These days we mostly talk about our failing health and have some laughs about how we're falling apart. Gone are the Glory Days of our misspent you. We also laugh about those adventures too.
Don is 89 years old now. I'm 84. We're on our way OUT and we know it. Question is, who goes first?
When Pat comes down next month for his quarterly visit to me here at Casa Tipton-Kelly we're going to take a few days to visit Don in at his home in center city Philly. Don lives in a building of mostly old folks, a nice alternative to assisted living facilities. He still has his freedom although he says "everybody passes me by when I walk the streets." Me too Don.
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| Don and me on the rooftop garden of the building he lives in at 21st and Chestnut Streets, Philadelphia October 20, 2015 |
Next month's visit will probably be the last time I see Don in person. He has been a good and faithful friend of mine for so many years. It will be interesting to see if he meet up again in the Afterlife. I know I will be with Bill again.
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| Me and Bill at our home on Naudain Street, Philadelphia, PA 1976. |
A few days ago I posted this picture of me and Bill on Threads on the top of our roof deck when we lived in center city Philadelphia. The year was 1976, the 200th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. Much to my surprise my posting has received over thirty-three thousand "likes" on Threads which is the social media arm of Instagram via Facebook.
Almost all of the comments are favorable, some comparing this iconic photo to an album cover. In fact one commenter insisted that he has seen that album cover. Sorry, this wasn't an album cover. Now here is an album cover.
Pat and his band which they are still playing today! In fact they're rehearsing this weekend.
It is of Pat (the dirty faced guy on the forefront) and his band at that time. Of course I didn't know Pat at that time (if I did I would have been all over him because he is definitely my type).
I was quite surprised by the response I got from my posting of my picture to Threads. Gives me a good feeling that I'm leaving a legacy behind when I check out this year or next year.
Almost all of the comments I received were favorable. Of course there are always those few comments which are meant to hurt but I've developed a pretty thick skin over the years and let those hateful comments roll off of me.
Many commented on what a great picture this is of two gay pioneers of the gay movement. Well, I don't know about that. We certainly have many stories to tell of that time. One thing though, this picture wasn't posed. I was testing out my timer on my SLR camera which I had put on a tripod. The timer was set to go off in ten seconds. Bill was skeptical that it would work. I was confident it would (look at the way I'm standing, my "Ron Tipton stance" as Pat calls it). Turns out sometimes the most iconic pictures are the ones that aren't posed but in the moment.
This was the second shot. The timer worked!
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| Me and my Mom 2010 (about three months before she died) |
Good morning all! I have the rest of the month free (no doctor’s appointments)! Next month is a different story SEVEN DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENTS including a PET-SCAN to see how far my prostate cancer has spread. Appointments next month:
Labs
PET-SCAN
Urologist
Podiatrist
Hearing Aid checkup
Dentist
Dermatologist
And to think I used to tease my Mother when she was the age (84) that I am now. I said “Your life is just a series of doctor’s appointments interrupted by your life.” Her response was “You just wait, your time is coming.” She was right.
Mom's are always right!
Lately I've been noticing the number "555" showing up on my digital clocks.
I know what "1111" means. I've also have been seeing that number a lot since Bill passed away.
Many believe seeing 11:11 is a message from spiritual guides that you are on the right path.
It is also regarded as a "cosmic green light", indicating that your thoughts are rapidly manifesting into reality.
Many also believe that 11:11 signals the arrival or close proximity of a soulmate. It represents the meeting of two souls destine to align in perfect timing.
Makes sense to me.
As I have mentioned several times before in this blog, Bill contacts me by that burned out Christmas light in our living room. Interestingly the last three nights that light has been off. Then I started seeing "555" displayed on my digital clock. Not that I was looking for it, it is just that my attention was drawn to one of my digital clocks in my bedroom or other digital clocks around here at Casa Tipton-Kelly.
It has appeared so many times that I decided to do some research. Here is what I found:
"The 555 angel number is a powerful message signaling that major, positive life changes and transformations are eminent. It ate as a "cosmic green light" from the universe to embrace new beginning, freedom, and personal growth, urging you to trust that these shifts align with your highest good."
Well, I know this. Lately I have just given up on caring about things that used to concern me. For instance, this mess the United States is in now with Trump and the war with Iran and everything else, whatever happens, happens. Particularly concerning is the United States Supreme Court gutting the voting rights act. But none of that is going to be my concern anymore. I have other priorities and seeing these numbers confirms that actuality that I am in now.
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| Pat and Ron at the Santa Monica Pier, California January 17, 2016 |
It's amazing how time flies.
Here is a selfie I took of me and Pat at the Santa Monica Pier during our visit to California in January of 2016.
That was ten years ago.
I'm pretty sure there won't be a picture of us ten years from now. If there is, we will be 87 and 94 years old respectively. That's probably a picture you don't want to see.
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| Mom, 2002 |
Happy Mother's Day to all you mothers out there!
My Mom died in 2010 at 86 years old.
She was the best Mom in the world to me and my two brothers.
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| Mom with her "three boys." 2005 |
It wasn't until I left home that I found out that not all mothers are as good as our Mother was.
We were very lucky.
Now my father, that's another story.
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| Me and Bill June 9th, 2013 |
Something strange has been happening lately.
For the past two nights Bill hasn't visited via that burned out Christmas light. There have been occasions in the past two and a half years since he died that that light has went out. Funny thing though, one of the other lights occasionally flashes on big then goes out. Now that has me thinking, "is someone else trying to contact me?"
Well, I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking maybe I'm going Looney Tunes here at Casa Tipton-Kelly.
There are some other strange things happening too. About nine-thirty at night I'm exhausted. So exhausted I can't even stay up and watch the opening of Lawrence O'Donnell's show "The Last Word." And when I say exhausted I mean I feel like I just ran a 26 mile marathon.
Maybe my prostate cancer is really taking off. It's hard to tell because I'm always in pain from my arthritis. Especially my lower back. My legs feel like wooden tree trunks. I can hardly move them by the end of the day.
Interesting thing though, when I get up in the morning, even though my whole body is stiff and aching with arthritic pain, I have a lot more energy. That's when I do my walk and any activity outside like working on my pond. I love working on my pond. Seeing my gaggle of goldfish, most of whom were born in that pond, swimming around happily. There is even a big bullfrog that has taken up residence. Makes you wonder, where did he come from? I had the same situation at our place in Pennsylvania, build a pond and the frogs will show up. That reminds me, when I was doing my mile walk this morning in the Oyster Rocks development, the one behind me (I went there to get new scenery), I came across a baby turtle the size of a nickel. Of course I rescued it and carried it to the water retention basin at the end of my development. Good deed for the day Ron.
Some other interesting things is that I'm losing a lot of interest in the current news. Oh sure, it's all fucked up with Trump and his lackeys and criminal cohorts but I'm finding I just don't care. This is what the majority of Americans voted for? Go for it stupids. Too stupid to even know when they're being hoodwinked by a liar and a con artist. I'm moving on from that mess. Maybe it will straighten itself out, maybe not. I just don't have the energy to care anymore. Still, it surprises me how may feckless cowards there are in Congress, the media and big business. They're all in it together. I guess I always knew that.
Well, I hope that absence of the Christmas light not coming on doesn't mean I won't see Bill in the Afterlife. Even after two and a half years I still miss him every day. I never knew anything could hit me this hard but it has. I just learn to live with it until I can be together with him in Heaven. I'm pretty sure that will happen, probably sooner than I think.
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| Me and Pat in Lewes, DE during his last visit this past March. Looking forward to spending more time with him next month. |
Just little over a month to go until I have my PET-SCAN to see if and how far my prostate cancer has spread. My appointment is June 11th. Pat will be down here then. However, he won't be here when I see my urologist and inform him that I will not seek any further treatment for my prostate cancer. I'm done with treatments.
I've been doing more research on what happens to a man when his prostate cancer returns and he doesn't get for treatment. Specifically I asked "Is it very painful?" Sure, this is a concern of mine. Nobody is a big fan of pain and especially me. The answer of course is yes. But then the answer qualifies "it varies." I'm hoping I'm on of those cancer patients that can get out of this life relatively pain free. Then there are the side effects, mainly bowel changes. Of course I expected that. Well, I've had that problem in various stages my whole life. I'll deal with that if and when it happens.
I also did research as to why men choose assisted suicide instead of further debilitating treatment and as I suspect they are the same reasons why I will not seek treatment. These are:
Loss of Autonomy: The most cited reason (often over 90% of the cases) is the desire to maintain control over one's life and the circumstances of death.
This is me. I've been in control of most of my life and I have no desire to give over control to the medical establishment to experiment with my body and quality of life at this time of my life when I will die. To be helpless and dependent on others would be sheer torture both mentally and physically to me.
Decreased Quality of Life: Many express that they are no longer able to engage ion activities that make life enjoyable.
This is also one of my main reasons that I will not seek delay methods to delay my eventual death. I don't want to be dependent on a pump to get the urine out of my bladder because radiation has destroyed my urethra canal through scar tissue like my friend Rich. Rich also originally got prostate cancer when I did in 2013. His returned in 2019 and he got radiation treatment which had this awful side effect. He has decided to seek any and all treatment to delay his eventual death from prostate cancer, at eighty-four years old I'm ready to make my grand exit from this life. I will not live my remaining life that way he has chosen.
Loss of Dignity: This is a major concern for patients facing the final stages of terminal illness.
Again, another major reason for my decision not to seek treatment. I only have one person in my life who can take care of my (Pat) and I'm not going to lay that burden on him. I was privileged to be Bill's full-time caregiver for the remaining three years of his life and glad of it. I would have had it no other way. But I do not want to put that burden on anyone else in my life. Bill often told me he would have killed himself because he was so unhappy that he couldn't see and physically do the things that made life interesting for him. He said the only reason he didn't take himself out was because of me. He didn't want to put that burden on me. That's how unselfish Bill was. But with Pat and I it is a different situation. We life apart even though we're now married. Since 2013, coincidentally the same year I was diagnosed with prostate cancer, we have been getting together quarterly and since Bill's death we have continued that pattern. This works for us. Even if and when Pat is approved for his green card and come and life in the U.S. permanently, we will continue to live apart. He in Palm Springs and me here in Delaware. And we will continue to get together quarterly. If I live that long that is.
Pain Management: While concern about future pain is a factor, it is often ranked lower than the psychological desire for autonomy and dignity.
I feel the same way. I do have a concern about pain as we all do but the first two factors, autonomy and dignity are my primary concerns.
Notice that the concern about death doesn't actually appear in this AI generated research. I too don't have a concern about dying. I a confident I will return to my real home in a place many call Heaven. There I know I will rejoin Bill's spirit. He awaits me. As do our pets and my other family members and friends I have made in this lifetime. Yes, I do believe we have many lives or reincarnations. Quite frankly, I'm ready to take some time off from this particular life this time around. I've learned a lot, which I believe is the purpose of our human life on this planet. But I am tired now, both physically and mentally. Also, and perhaps more importantly, I am at peace with my decision not to prolong my life any longer in a much reduced debilitated state.
You know it's interesting, I see day by day how life is already passing me by. When I go out, which is a lot less these days, I feel almost invisible. Prior to caring for Bill I could still turn some heads when I went out in public. Taking care of Bill really aged me. I'm not complaining but being Bill's full-time caregiver took a toll on me both physically and mentally. As I knew it would. That's why I passed on the requests to take care of my friends Bob M. and Wayne J. when they were dying. They had no one close to them to be their caregivers. The hospital begged me to sign them out when I visited them. I felt so guilty but I couldn't. I knew I had to preserve my energy to take care of Bill should that time come. And it did and I was able too. When I go, I don't want to put that burden on Pat. And he would be the only one who would even care. I have no one else. I've been estranged from my one surviving brother. He's full blown into the Trump MAGA cult. He's lost. And he has alienated his whole family from me. And my other relatives, they all have their own lives.
Time marches on. A new generation is on the horizon. My generation is slowly fading away. I'm ready to go. I'm just thankful that I have the opportunity to do it on my own terms.
Anyone else out there have smoke detectors in their house?
My house, which was built in 2006, came with six smoke detectors. They are hardwired with battery backup. They've been acting up lately with a "chirp! chirp!" Yes, I know what that means. They're going bad.
The last time I had a problem with one was about ten years ago. It was the one in my bedroom, which is right around the corner from my kitchen. That damn "chirp! chirp!" sound would wake me up intermittently at night. At first I didn't know what it was. When I mentioned it to Bill, he said it needed a new battery. He put in a new battery. Then six months later, again that damn "chirp! chirp!" would wake me up. We replaced the battery again.
Another several months go by and again....."chirp! chirp!" What the hell? Why was it only the smoke detector in my bedroom? Bill did some more checking and discovered that the hard wired part wasn't connecting with the smoke detector in my bedroom. Bill, who was an electrician by trade, fixed it. Viola! No more "chirp! chirp!" to disturb my beauty sleep at night.
Months go by. Years go by. Peace. No "chirp! chirp!" That all ended last week.
At first I thought I was imagining things Maybe it was the birds outside. But at night in the dark? Hardly. That "chirp! chirp!" was relentless. No amount of denial or rationalization on my part could stop the inevitably of that annoying sound.
I did my research (AI) and found out that most smoke detectors only have a lifespan of ten years! Mine are twenty years old. What to do?
My research also advised to replace them all. More expense. Oh how I miss having a live in electrician. All those years Bill and I were together, I got free electrical service. No more.
In the meantime that "chirp! chirp!" continued. I had to stop it. My tranquility was being serious disturbed. So I get out my ladder and climb the heights of my ten foot ceilings to figure out how to stop that infernal noise.
I'm not good on ladders. That's all I need to do is fall. But I had to stop that sound.
I figured it out. Yes I did. Me, the non-electrician. The non mechanically inclined (I'm a natural cook and gardener) figured out how to disable that damn smoke detector.
Once I had disabled it I decided not to call an electrician because the rest of my smoke detectors were still working. I would probably be gone before another one went bad. Save some money which I am continually trying to do these days on my reduced household income and in this age of Trump inflation.
So yesterday, while I was amusing myself at my computer scrolling through Threads looking at the cat videos what do I hear? "CHIRP! CHIRP!"
Yes Virginia, another smoke detector was preparing to go to the Promised Land.
I called my local electrician yesterday. He's going to e-mail me a quote for replacing all six of my smoke detectors.
This is a short video I took of Hunters, a gay dance bar in Palm Springs, California during my visit February 16, 2019. We were all dancin...
