May 2007 Archives

Last night was another COAP game night. It was a fun time, despite the relatively low turn-out. There are actually a number of things I could write about based on last night's events. However, for now, I'm choosing to focus on something that came up during a discussion between Woody and Mark during the "meeting" portion of the night.

Woody and Mark have been involved in COAP for long periods of time, so they got reminiscing. At one point, Woody started talking about his history with COAP and his pattern of disappearing and coming back. One of the things that he pointed out was that often, his disappearances occurred at the same time he started seeing someone, while he came back after the relationship ended. Mark commented that this is common, and even joked that it's the "gay lifestyle."

At this turn of the conversation, a couple of thoughts entered my mind. The first one was a sense of relief that I'm not the only one prone to this kind of behavior. Indeed, one of the things that I realized when I started coming to COAP events was that I'd have to fight the urge to drop out when I eventually get into a relationship. So it was nice to know that other people have those same tendencies.

But then, I had to ask the question. Why is that? Why is part of the "gay lifestyle" to drop off the social circle when you meet that special someone. Is it because we see the social circle as nothing more than a marketplace for picking up our next lover? That's certainly a frightening thought in itself!

Of course, I should note that I don't think this is strictly a gay thing. I've noticed that a good number of heterosexual couples tend to lose track of their friends over time, too. After all, my parents don't get out nearly as much as they used to (though my father does socialize more through their church than my mother does). Often, they're content to do their work, meet a few communal obligations, then head home.

But it seems to me from my observations that it happens much more quickly and suddenly amongst gay people (especially men). While heterosexual couples may become more insular and reclusive over time, it seems like we do it at the earliest opportunity. Which I don't think is healthy, for reasons I covered before. So why do we do it?

Personally, I think it's in part because we're often afraid of finding true love that we've become obssessed with it to the exclusion of everything else. So when we're with someone, all of our attention turns towards building and maintaining that relationship. After all, we're not sure when the next one is coming along (and with only a small percentage of the population to work with, finding eligible, desirable lovers can seem like a daunting task), so we want to do everything we can to make it work. So we allow other friendships and our other activities to come along. Add to this the fact that the early stages of any relationship can be quite intoxicating and addicting, and it becomes an understandable pattern.

But realizing this doesn't make continuing the pattern a good idea. In some ways, I think it demonstrates why we -- both individually and collectively -- need to break this pattern.

This afternoon, I attended the first session of the five session "Signal Processing Fundamentals" class that my company is offering to all interested employees. I figured that since a few customers have inquired as to my knowledge of DSP's (which is nonexistant at the moment), I figured I best sign up. Granted, this class covers the theory of signal processing rather than implementation, but I figure I can learn the latter on my own as I come to understand the former.

Today's session consisted of a math review, going over the basic mathematical concepts (integration, differentiation, linear algebra, complex numbers, etc.) that are used in signal processing. Fortunately, it's all stuff I learned in school. I was even surprised how quickly most of it came back to me. Matrix multiplication took a few seconds, but it eventually clicked.

Of course, there are things that I only vaguely remember. For example, I don't remember all the methods for integrating and deriving more complex formulas. Fortunately, I was able to find a great website that helped with that.

I'm thinking that this weekend, however, I would be wise to try digging up a few of my old math books just for reference. Fortunately, I had the foresight to keep them. At least I hope I did. It's possible I tossed them during the move. But I'm hoping I had more sense than that.

Last night, I took Belinda and Jim to Equal Grounds to hear the musical and comic stylings of a local group called The Monastery Dropouts. Unfortunately, this group doesn't appear to have a website, so I can't link to them (or keep track of their future performances).

I had never heard of group until a couple weeks ago when I received an email from Equal Grounds (I'm on their mailing list) announcing that they would be performing live at the coffee shop. I forwarded the email to Michele, knowing that she and Belinda would be in town the day of the show and suggested it as possible entertainment for the evening. Everyone seemed to like the idea, though Michele was unable to go with us.

The group's act can probably be best described the way Jim put it, part cabaret, part comedy act. The two members of the show are quick-witted, funny, and sing quite well. Their musical repertoire included such songs as The Vatican Rag by Tom Lehrer. In between songs, both men would banter back and forth and even with the audience, making for a humorous atmosphere. It's not clear how much of the banter was scripted and how much was improvisational, though both men would probably claim it's 100% the latter. If so, I would certainly never want to get into a battle of wits with either of them.

The show was marvellous and lasted for over two hours. The four of us (Becky joined us there late) all agreed we'd go see The Monastery Dropouts again if given the chance.

Pisco posted the results of when he went to a site that let's you create your own painting. I decided to try it out.

Click here to create your own painting.

Personally, I think Pisco's painting came out much better. Just further proof I'm a writer and not a painter/sculptor.

I have to admit that I have a strange relationship with money. I'm not going to sit here and try to tell anyone -- or even myself -- that I don't like having money. If my boss was to stop by my desk tomorrow and ask me if I'd like a raise, I'm not going to say no. After all, I like being able to spend money on various things.

However, I don't feel like a slave to money, either. I do understand that ultimately, the only money I really need is the money to buy the necessities for staying alive. Anything after that is gravy. And I love my gravy.

However, I've also realized that how I spend my excess money is extremely important to me. I'm not the kind to become obsessed with buying the latest gadget or must have thing. Nor am I obssessed with keeping up with the latest fashion (not that men's fashions change nearly as drastically as women's fashions, anyway). That's not my style at all.

Granted, I like to shop for quality when I do buy things. So when I go out shopping for new work clothes, I'm as liable to hit something a bit more expensive than Wal-Mart or even Target. (Besids, those stores often stop carrying clothes at one size below what I need, or only carry clothes my size that are horribly tacky.) And when I bought a laptop a couple months ago, I spent the extra money to get one I'd really like.

But at the same time, I don't care to buy a lot of "stuff" just to have "stuff." For example, a couple of years ago, I began to re-evaluate my attitude towards computer games. At the time, I was buying a new computer game every other week. I'd play each game I bought for about two weeks (often never mastering them or beating them if they had a quest mode of play), then get bored with it and never touched it again. As I noticed this pattern, I really asked if the time I spent playing each game was really worth the $40 a title I was paying. I decided that it wasn't, so I've changed my game buying habits. I still buy the occasional computer game (and still often play them for a couple of weeks), but it's something I only do every couple months or so. I found it hasn't detracted from my life at all, and I've certainly found more enjoyable uses for the money I'm saving.

On the other hand, I think one of the best spenditures of money I've ever made was back when my niece, Alyssa, was two years old. Disney had re-released "The Little Mermaid" just before Christmas, so there was a merchandizing craze going on at the time. During my Christmas shopping, I had found a four foot long stuffed Flounder (the character from the movie, not a real flounder). I decided to buy it for Alyssa for Christmas.

Christmas Eve, my sister and her family had dinner with my parents and I at my parents' home (I was living at home at the time). My sister decided to let Alyssa open one gift that evening after dinner. Because of an incident that had happened when my sister and her family were heading up from New Jersey, we all agreed she should unwrap Flounder.

I cannot begin to do justice to the experience of watching Alyssa open her gift. When she finally got the wrapping paper off and looked into the eyes of a Flounder almost as big as she was, she let out a shrill screech. The next five minutes, all this little girl could do was hug her new friend tight and screech, "He's so cute!" It was a beautiful sight, and I can't think of a time where I got so much joy out of $40 I had spent.

In many ways, money is more about making my life comfortable. It's about creating moments like that, where I get to add to and share in other people's pleasure. Whether I'm buying presents for my nieces and nephews, treating my friends to a meal, or giving an overworked and underpaid server an outrageously generous tip, I enjoy seeing the smiles it can bring to people's faces.

Money can't buy happiness, but it can certainly be used to create situations that encourage happiness.

Today, Pam reminded her readers that today is International Day Against Homophobia. Thanks to this reminder, I felt it important that I not let such a day pass by without some sort of comment.

Homophobia is one of those unfortunate things that all of us wish would go away. It's a shame that in 2007, people still have to worry about whether they could lose their job if their boss finds out they're gay. It's terrible that same sex couples still have to worry about their legal status and the protections offered to their relationship, things that heterosexual couples take for granted every day. It's wearying to think that we have to listen to paranoid people attempt to raise animosity towards us by making alarming references to the dreaded "homosexual agenda" and "special priveleges." It's annoying to listen to these same people make accusations about "recruiting attempts" (which I'm convinced is little more than projection on their part).

I think the one thing that makes all of this more bearable for me is the realization that homophobia is not about me or other gay people at all. Homophobia is actually merely a manifestation of a greater problem: Some people's need to have something to fear and attack as "the enemy." If people didn't have gay people to blame for the ills of society, they'd merely have to look for something else. They'd have to find some new danger to rally against, because it's that perceived danger and fear of it that such people need to galvanize their will and draw their strength from. Without it, I suspect most of them would be lost.

I am not the homophobes' enemy. I'm merely the screen they have chosen to project their own inner demons upon. Their real enemy lives within themselves. And as I keep that in mind, it enables me to deal with the issue of homophobia from a completely different mindset. It enables me to fight the consequences of homophobia -- such as legislative discrimination -- while understanding that the underlying issue isn't about me -- or even homosexuality -- at all. And for me, that realization is liberating.

When I moved to the suburbs of Rochester almost two years ago, it was with some concern. I had lived in rural Pennsylvania all my life prior to the move. There were things that I knew I was going to miss. For example, I was going to miss the rare evening when I would look out the dining room window and see a black bear wandering through the yard, looking for food. I'd miss the twice daily trek of wild turkeys through the backyard during the winter as they came for the corn my father put out for them. One of the beautiful things about my life back home is that it was a nice area, surrounded with the beauty of nature.

But I gave that up, knowing I needed some changes in my life. I knew that I needed to get out where I could meet more like-minded people. I needed to find an area where I had more socialization options than going to church or going to the bar, neither of which appealed to me all that much. So I gave up my nice comfortable life in the middle of nowhere and moved to suburbia in an overgrown town along Lake Ontario. And almost two years later, I'm happy to admit that it was quite possibly one of the best decisions of my life.

I've come to like the fact that I live in an area where everything I want is within a five block radius of my home. I love the fact that if I decide I want to go out for a bit and do some reading or writing while surrounded by others, I have five or six different coffee houses to choose from. (And that's not including the Great Abomination, Starbucks.) I like the fact that there's a significant number of gay people and Pagans (and not to mention gay Pagans) that there are clubs and organizations set up for everyone to get together and socialize.

And yet, I've also discovered that while I may no longer have a black bear traipse through my yard, I can still find the beauty of nature here in this busy city. Rochester has no shortage of parks, and all of them are quite beautiful. My favorite one right now is Genesee Valley Park. Just yesterday, I was there and had two mallard ducks waddle past me, not six feet from where I stood. It was an incredible experience, and I even had to call a friend just to tell someone about it.

I've grown to truly love this area. In fact, I'm coming to think of it as home, which is not something I expected to happen when I originally moved here.

Saturday night, a group of friends went to the Silver Lake Drive-In. We ended up watching Spiderman 3 and Ghost Rider, both of which were excellent movies. I ended up sitting in Belinda's car watching the shows with her. The experience that night brought back a few memories.

Of course, any trip to a drive-in theater always brings back childhood memories. My parents, being frugal people, never took my sister or I to the movie theater. However, they were perfectly happy to take my sister and I to the drive-in theater a couple times each summer. Each time we'd go, they'd bundle the two of us into our pajamas before taking us out to the small drive-in (I was amazed when I learned that some places had more than one screen and offered a selection of movies to watch). I don't remember many of the movies we saw, the only two that stick out vividly are The Fox and the Hound (which I cried at because of the ending) and Herbie Goes Bananas. I also remember that the one time we went, the second movie they showed was Canonball Run. I particularly my mother mentioning the next day that she was glad that my sister fell asleep during that movie. (We often fell asleep during the second movie, which is why we were always bundled in our pajamas.)

Back then, going to the Drive-In was a special treat. We didn't go often, but Mom and Dad always made sure we saw at least one movie each summer. They would usually tell my sister and me a couple days in advance, and we'd look forward to the "big night" from that moment on. I suppose that's why going to a drive-in is still a magical event to me over two decades later. There's a certain sense to the experience that I doubt even seeing a movie at an I-Max theater could compare to in my mind.

The other memory that Saturday night brought back to me was the last time I went to a drive-in. That was during college. A group of us went to see Pocahontas with our friends Dennis and Mary and their three small children. There was a second movie we saw that night, but I forget what it was. I do remember that neither James nor I were impressed with it and spent most of the movie whispering snide comments about it between ourselves.

That was the night that I learned that some of the larger drive-in theaters have more than one screen, a fact that totally surprised me. I also remember my surprise at discovering that some drive-in theaters also broadcast the sound for their movies using a very small range FM radio transmitter. During my childhood, the theater we went to only had the small speakers that you hung on the edge of your car window.

That was also the first time that I didn't stay in the car. Dennis backed his mini van up into the spot so that the rear of the van was facing the screen. We then all climbed out and opened the back doors on the van. Some sat in the back of the van while the rest of us lined up in front in our lawn chairs. It was a different experience for me, and quite a pleasant one.

Saturday night, we stayed in our cars (though one of the girls did go sit outside in a chair). We hadn't brought chairs or blankets (well, the others hadn't brought blankets, but I had one). As it was quite chilly this weekend, we decided to stay in the cars for the most part. However, a great many people did choose to go sit or lay out on the lawn in front of all of the cars. We particularly admired the family who had the foresight to bring not only sleeping bags, but bean bags to lay on and a tarp to put down and keep everything else dry with.

It was a truly magical evening, and I look forward to repeating it again. Who knows, with any luck, I might get a chance to share the experience with someone special before the summer is out.

Over at Zaadz, one of the recent questions posted was in regards to what we look for in friends. I thought I'd share my (partial) answer here as well.

One of the things that I look for in a firiend is an ability to inspire and challenge me. I like friends who have shown great creativity, great strength, great courage, and other similar qualities. Knowing such people and hearing about their experiences, struggles, and triumphs encourage me to continue to develop my on creative, strength, courage, and other such qualities.

Of course, this means that such a friend must also be sincere and a person of substance. It is possible to demonstrate such virtues and inspire them in me while being fake or shallow. This isn't to say that they can't be silly and have their moments of superficial joviality. After all, we all have to “come up for air” every now and then. But there's a difference between a moment of lightheartedness and living a life stuck in that kind of shallowness.

Being dependable is another desirable trait in my friends. I think it's important to be independent and not being too demanding of my friends. But there are times when I do need a little help, and it's important to me that my friends are ready to offer it when they can.

There are many more qualities I could list, but I figure this is a good start.

Tonight, I held the first weekly meditation at Genesee Valley Park. After doing it, I realized that we should've moved these meditations outside last summer, too. It added a certain pleasantness to the whole experience. It certainly helped that I added the actual sensations of the outdoors to the imagery I was using.

And of course, the fresh air was good for me. I've been getting a lot of that with all of these trips to the park. I've made it one of my goals to get there at least twice a week, and spend at least an hour and a half each week walking there. I figure that this will not only give me a chance to rejuvenate my body with clean air, but it'll also get my blood pumping and release a few endorphins in the process.

After meditation, I went to dinner at Red Robin. When I got out of the restaurant, it was almost dark out, with just a few minutes left of dusk. Part of me didn't want to come home. Part of me wanted to find someplace to go and enjoy more of the great outdoors. If I knew of someplace I could go where I would've felt completely safe, I would've done exactly that, too.

When I came out of the restaurant and had these moods, I found myself thinking about the many nights that I and various friends would walk down to the Susquehanna River and spend some time walking along the riverbank. We'd spend a great deal of time talking and just enjoying the experience. The memory made me realize just how much I miss that sort of thing.

There's something about walking with a good friend or two after dark, speaking in semi-soft tones as you stroll along. It's a setting that allows you to share deep, intimate thoughts and even be a bit more vulnerable. In fact, it doesn't just allow it, it practically encourages it. And I could see myself doing that here along the canal if only someone like James or Tim was here.

Who knows, perhaps I will eventually find someone here I can share that kind of experience with.

It's been nine days since I've written here. As I mentioned in a previous post, that's the thing about getting more of a life. There's less and less time for actually sitting down and writing about all the things I'm doing and all of the things going on. Of course, I'm not exactly sure that I'd change that, either. After all, if my life wasn't so full, it would be downright boring. However, I'm continuing to look for the balance that will work for me.

Yesterday, I spent the majority of the day at Psychic's Thyme again. We ended up having a full house in the back room, as there were three readers on duty. Add to that the fact that Char was there, and Belinda and I were fulfilling our role as "official hangers on," and you have quite the gaggle. Of course, the high numbers and dynamic mix of personalities made for a lively day full of energetic conversation.

If any of my readers are considering opening a Pagan, "New Age," or metaphysical store, allow me to offer you a bit of advice. Whenever possible, make sure that those who are working there are positive people and tend to get into lively conversations. The energy such situations generate are incredible for business. One of the things that I have noticed while hanging out at the shop is that the better the time we have there, the more customers come waltzing in the front door. The number of times the laughs get interrupted because a customer needs help or someone needs their purchase rung up is just phenomenal. Of course, you have to make sure things don't get too out of hand. There was more than one time yesterday when Char had to remind us keep the noise down a bit.

After the store closed, Michele Belinda and I went to Bugaboo Creek for dinner and then headed back to their house. I provided the entertainment in the form of Night at the Museum and Happy Feet. Both were hillarious and we had a great time. Happy Feet got a bit too agenda-oriented for my tastes towards the end, but it was still a cute movie. And the idea of tap dancing penguins is just great for a laugh.