We're Havin' a Heat Wave

Sheesh, is it hot out there! It's usually along about day 3 of eastern heatwaves that the whole infrastructure starts coming undone -- from burned out power lines, blown manhole covers, fires, subway outages and buses breaking down with overheated engines and totally dead air-conditioning systems.

But, so far, so good. The only major transit outage so far is the PATH trains (Port Authority Trans-Hudson Railroad). The electrical grid seems to be holding up with only occasional "brown-outs" to indicate that ConEd is re-balancing the system.

I turned in at 9:30 last night and it was lights out at 9:45. I slept like a baby with the fan blowing full blast on me, and the AC on low. By dawn, though, you could've hung meat in my bedroom (no comments about "hung" and/or "meat", please) so it was a shock to walk out into the rest of the apartment when I got up this morning.

============================================

My friends from New York and I have made reservations to stay at a hotel up near where our friends "H" and "S" live. The plan is to spend the long 4th of July weekend with them.

I got more information about "H"'s condition on the overnight news wire (e-mails post-midnight). He had been battling liver cancer for years and it had been in remission for some time. However it recently recurred and, eventually, it spread from his liver to his spine.

I've asked God to grant "H" the grace and strength to endure whatever God has planned for him -- and to grant "S" the strength to endure the unendurable when the time eventually comes.

I've also asked God to help ME to be a friend among friends, to keep my head, to avoid drama, and to keep the focus entirely on the people who need it most right now, my friends.

Stormy Weather

It's hotter'n hell here in the east. It has been since last Saturday and it shows every intention of staying this way for another day or two.

Up above is a shot of the crowds at Robert Moses State Park, on Long Island, over the weekend.

I had a sort of date Saturday night with a guy in my 12-Step program whom I've been interested in for years (he's taller than me!!) and he's been sober for about 27 years now. However, we had a chaperone, a fellow who is new to the area and was looking for something to do Saturday night, so he invited himself along with us.

We had dinner first and then went to see and hear the New Jersey Gay Men's Chorus perform up north in the state. It was broiling in the church where they were performing. But that didn't matter. They performed with brio, sensitivity and a real feeling for the material. They even managed to find a mezzo to perform with them (a REAL lady). Their rendition of the Habanera from Bizet's "Carmen" was breathtaking and they captured the flavor of a group of [straight] men enthralled by the gypsy cigarette girl who ruins men's lives, Carmen. The melody of the chorus is absolutely haunting and even though I'm not an opera queen, it is one of my favorite arias.

We didn't get home until way past midnight. Not that it mattered. It was still over 80 degrees in central New Jersey at that hour. I cranked up the a/c in my bedroom, and slept under a sheet. And nothing else.

That's the "weather" part of the subject of today's post. The "stormy" part starts now.

I had an e-mail today from an old friend of mine. He informed me that he'd gotten a phone call over the weekend from another friend of ours, "S", informing him that the "S's" lover, "H", a man we've known for many decades, has been sent home from the hospital to die of pancreatic cancer.

My emotions are all over the place. I first met "H" in Seattle in the summer of 1977, right after I broke up with my lover number 2. "H" and I quickly became drinking and disco-dancing buddies and were pretty inseparable every Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday afternoons for the next 9 months or so... until I moved to New York in the spring of 1978.

Eventually "H" moved to New York too where we rekindled our friendship. "H" acquired the boyfriend who called us over the weekend and, in time, we all settled down in various domestic partnerships. Eventually "H" and "S" moved back to Seattle where "H" finished his degrees, eventually getting a doctorate. After that he became a college professor, first in Texas and later in Connecticut.

When I broke up with my partner of 15 years, in the summer and fall of 1994, S&H had long since moved away and, by the time they moved back to the northeast, I was at my bottom in central New Jersey and they, by default, remained friends with my ex.

I have to admit that I've always had a touch of resentment about that, since my ex wouldn't have known any of these people if it hadn't been for me. My ex wasn't terribly lovable and was woefully lacking in certain social skills.

Anyway, that's all water over the dam now. Now my friend is dying and I want him to know that I love him, that even though we haven't been a part of each other's lives for many years now, I have always loved him and I will miss him terribly when he is gone.

Life is short, people. Real short. Go do something you've been meaning to do but have kept putting off. You never know.

AugTober

Hot enuff fer ya?

It's sure as hell hot enough for me and I LOVE summer. My fellow blogger, Jake over at NoFo (and his huzband-to-be, Justin), had a heck of a time during the Chicago marathon yesterday, along with 100's of others, until the race organizers finally called a halt to the damned thing.

Now Chicago's weather has arrived here in NYC. It was hot last night. I had the a/c blasting in my bedroom all night long. I was still hot. When I got up it was hot (the house is an old Victorian, so only select rooms have window units). The bathroom was like an oven.

I can take this weather in July, but it's the middle of October, fer cryin'-out-loud, and although I'm no great fan of winters in New Jersey, I do the like the certainty that when the weather gets wearisome, no matter what the season, it will change in just a few months. But these days I'm starting to wonder.

===================================================
I sat down at my desk this morning and my cellphone immediately "dinged" to let me know that somebody had sent me a text-message. Someone, who shall remain nameless but she's spending today with her mother and cousins, had awakened in the dead of night (as is her wont) and, in a fit of boredom, couldn't get her iPod to reboot and wondered if I'd send her the instructions for rebooting it. I located the instructions (all 4 paragraphs of it) and realized that it would take me an hour to key it into my cellphone. Throwing caution to the wind I called her (6:30 a.m. PDT)and talked her through it (thrown the little switch on top. Hold down the "Menu" AND "Select" buttons simultaneously for about 10 seconds until the Apple logo appears. Lather, rinse, repeat if necessary. By then, though, her mom and cousins were up and they were all apparently ready to dive into the sauce (so I believe) so it was pointless to try to have a coherent conversation with any of them. These so-called "Cousins Days" of hers seem to me to be little more than excuses to get hammered and to card-shark the hell out of each other.

I hope they're having a good time today. (They usually do!)

===================================================
Whilst websurfing this ayem I came across an item (the Huffington Post?) about Bob Novak (remember him? Valerie Plame's outer?) saying he'd alleged that most of the Republican membership of the Senate (and probably the House, too) had always known about Larry Craig, not just that he was gay, but that he was a notorious tearoom queen, too.

Not to be outdone in terms of co-signing Larry's denial bullshit, another item alleged that Idaho has proposed to induct him into their Hall of Fame. I only wish I were kidding.

Apparently the Roy Cohn Memorial "Whatever the fuck it is that I am, I'm NOT THAT" Club in Washington (and Idaho) has a huge charter membership on both sides of the partition, er, aisle.