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My Last Night With Anthony

I only wish I’d known my brother would soon leave us

Anthony was super sensitive, troubled, and a danger to himself. He was also extremely supportive and people couldn’t help loving him. He was born two years after me in Brooklyn, at a time when behavioral and psychological issues went undiagnosed. Anthony wasn’t lock-him-up crazy, but he wasn’t meant to be left to his own devices either. I knew my brother struggled, but I had my own shit to deal with growing up. Our broken home was not the best environment for personal instability. As if by random selection, I thrived in our shared dysfunction, my brother did not. Anthony was only 38 when a fatal dose of heroin took his life. He apparently had an enlarged heart as a result of years of cocaine abuse. The coroner documented his death as an accident — we’ll never know for sure. This is the story of our last night together.

I was turning 40 and finally somewhat satisfied with the direction of my life. A career that was progressing nicely, a completed Ph.D., a brownstone apartment in Brooklyn that was all mine, and for the most part, acceptance of my sexual orientation. I was ready to celebrate. I planned a big party at a friend’s Manhattan, Park Avenue penthouse. I hired chefs, entertainment, and invited nearly 100 of my closest friends and family. I had already come out as gay, but this was more like coming out as having survived my youth. I prepared a speech for the occasion where I would let those who cared about me know how much they meant to me. Anthony flew to New York from North Carolina. I was too busy during the day of my party to spend any time with him; I told him I’d see him at my party.

By the time he arrived, the party was in full swing. He walked over to me at some point, sullen and resembling death. I wasn’t immediately alarmed, I’d seen him in despair many times in our lives. He suffered from severe depression and his marriage had recently ended. I hugged him and promised him that at some point during the evening, we’d have some quality time. We passed one another several times throughout the night. I asked him to stick around for my speech because there was something I wanted him to hear.

My sister Kathy approached me during the party chaos. She told me that she knew I was busy, but she was worried about Anthony. I recall saying something like, “Aren’t we always worried about Anthony?” A failed suicide attempt in his teens left us all forever on edge. I assured her that I’d check in on him before he flew back to North Carolina. It was a big night for me and my focus was on other things.

I gave my speech and referred to him as my brother and best friend. I was hoping that would cheer him up; it did make him smile, but clearly he was in a dark place. He’d been clean and sober for a long time and I was concerned that he might be so despondent he’d start using again. Anyone who has dealt with depression will tell you that the attempt to help someone is not always met with an embrace.

Anthony stayed till the end of the party and helped me load my gifts into the car. He had an early morning flight, but he seemed eager to speak to me about something on his mind. He had a history of placing me in the center of challenging times in his life. At one point in his early twenties I found him emaciated and close to death in his North Carolina apartment. There were empty heroine vials and used needles everywhere. I carried him out to my car and drove him to a rehab facility in Charlotte. He stayed for the three week treatment and remained clean (as far as I knew) until a short period prior to his death. He traveled the country speaking to young people about addiction and his journey to a better life — a healthier life. He often credited me with saving him, although I never wanted that responsibility. It was my mother who begged me to go to his apartment on the day I found him. By then, I was close to giving up on him. Rehabilitation, meeting a woman he fell in love with, and then having a beautiful baby girl, all led to stability and some semblance of happiness. Until it all came crashing down. Back to the night we unknowingly said goodbye forever.

After loading the car, we drove to Brooklyn and went to a diner to talk. Anthony wept and shared his disappointment about a marriage that had fallen apart and the knowledge that his six year old daughter would no longer be a part of his daily life. He was devastated and blamed himself for all of it. I listened and tried my best to be supportive. His tendency toward violence and extreme anger made it difficult to absolve him of any blame. Considering his state of mind, this was not the time to chide him for his bad behavior. I liked and respected his wife, but I also felt that she had in some way brought it on — I’m certain some of those feelings came from being a protective brother; I knew the triggers that brought out the worst in Anthony. 

Hours of talk painfully passed as the sun eventually showed through the filthy diner windows. I began hearing some softening of Anthony’s sobs and a small amount of relief. His flight was due to take off soon and I needed to get him to the airport. We were both spent and weary. I was deeply concerned about Anthony’s state-of-mind, but I needed sleep. We had been there before and I knew this time we had together would only be a bandaid. 

When we arrived curbside at departures, I stepped out of the car to hug my brother. As he wept in my arms, I recall telling him that he could come and stay with me anytime. I asked him to call me when he got home and he nodded and left me with a hint of a smile. I was relieved that the night was over as I drove away. This was the last time I saw my brother. He called me several times before overdosing/heart failure in July. After his death, I asked myself if there was anything more that I could have done. The answer of course is yes, there is always more one could have done, but I’m certain that there was nothing I could have done that would have prevented his death. His last call to me was a few days before he took to the streets to find heroin. He was deeply depressed, however, that was par for the course. I know that it was Anthony’s lifelong struggle with depression and addiction that killed him. Those of us who loved him may have at times eased his pain a bit, but none of us could have prevented his death. His struggle and friendship will inspire and haunt me until I die.

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If you are struggling with a loved one who suffers from depression, there is no formula for helping them survive. Love, counseling, mental health programs, the sharing of resources, and the support of everyone around you can hopefully get you both through this devastating reality.

Anthony is sitting next to me on the sofa. My guess is that he was a year old in this photo and I was three. In the second photo, we were in North Carolina sometime in the early 80s.

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Future Travel

Basel, Switzerland in September, Asia land & sea, end of October/November and South Africa land & sea in February. My sister Debbie and her husband Lynn, will be joining me on a visit to our father’s birthplace in the Puglia region of Italy in 2025.

Current State-of Mind

These last few weeks in Faro have been a gift. Lots of quiet time for reflection and rest. I have once again decided to steer clear of toxic individuals — I say once again because I occasionally lose perspective and use poor judgment; I needed a good jolt. It’s impossible to rid yourself of all who cause you grief; however, you can limit the number by being proactive. Taking the high road is always the best path. Healthy disagreement is good, but not always possible; therefore, when it’s not an option, walk away. Anthony and others I have lost remind me of how fleeting life is.

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News: I have been waiting for the following (it will be a deciding factor in my remaining in Portugal):

After a long battle, Portugal passed a law on Friday legalizing euthanasia for people in great suffering and with incurable diseases, joining just a handful of countries around the world (wikipedia). Bravo!

Please forgive any typographical or grammatical errors.

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I Thought it Was the Scotch She Wanted (repost 2020)

17 years old, naive and eager to please. Pimping myself out on the streets of Brooklyn for tips and a piece of pie. No I was not a rent boy, I delivered booze by bicycle.

Before you judge me, keep reading. I claimed to be 18 years old, but I’m pretty certain Mr. Park knew I was lying. Back in the 70s you could sell and drink liquor at age 18. Back then, there were a lot of things I could do that I cannot do now. I wasn’t quite 18, but I would be soon enough . . . I wanted the job badly. I altered my baptismal certificate by changing 1959 to 1958 — one little numerical change. Desperate measures, I was moving out of the house and I would have rent and college tuition to pay. Mr. Park, who was a liquor store owner, said he’d give me a chance to prove myself; however, he’d made it clear that one slip-up and it was over. I am certain he was fully aware of my actual age. Deception on both sides. There would be no slip-ups; well, none he would know about.

The neighborhood liquor store was across the street from the subway station and although not hidden, it was somehow safe territory for the local alcoholics. The Park’s were Korean, very friendly, and way smarter than the rest of us. I recall Mrs. Park schooling her husband on how to talk to customers. I pretended not to understand, but I was intrigued by their culture and language, and at times, I felt more a part of their family than my own. And to be truly honest, the meals they brought me were delicious. Hence why I eat Korean food whenever and wherever I can find it.

My job was to stock the shelves and make deliveries. Having delivered groceries in the neighborhood for two years, I knew the streets and the people fairly well. I was the kid from that huge family on Marlborough Road. I was polite, shy, and fortunate to have inherited my father’s charm. In early days, I kept my head down and my mouth shut (I have obviously changed). I was surprised to learn how many customers wanted booze delivered to their door. I imagine some people didn’t want to be seen going in and out of the liquor store on a regular basis; others just didn’t want to carry the bottles home. Still others, I came to learn, were clearly shit-faced when I arrived with their refill. I would imagine some started the evening thinking they’d just have a shot and ended up clearing out their liquor cabinet. I encountered a good deal of binge drinking and abuse, not of me, the alcohol. This could very well be the reason I’ve never been a big drinker.

There were a few characters I delivered to several times a week and others, nightly. The only day we were closed, was Sunday. Trust me, if it wasn’t against the law in New York State to sell from a liquor store on Sunday, we would have been open. Thinking back, it didn’t make sense that you could open a bar and not a liquor store. There was this one customer, I’ll call him Mr. Taylor, Mr. Taylor ordered a bottle of Smirnoff vodka every night of the week. He was very quiet and always tipped me 50 cents (often a 50 cent piece). I suspect he was a raging alcoholic and afraid that if he ordered more than one bottle, he’d drink it all. I’m not judging, but that’s a lot of vodka. I worked at the liquor store for several years and Mr. Taylor seldom if ever, missed a delivery. Then there was Miss Greene. Miss Greene opened the door wide enough to stick her hand out, grab the vodka, pass me two dimes and then close the door. The stench from her apartment always made me a bit dizzy. After a year of delivering to Miss Greene on a regular basis, she offered me money to do her a monumental favor. More about that later.

There were these two very friendly men who lived in the same apartment, but they were never there at the same time. One of the two flirted with me quite a bit and once even answered the door wrapped in a bath towel. I looked up, but avoided direct eye contact. He was a big tipper, his partner was not. I always hoped the flirty one would be there to accept the delivery, unfortunately it was mostly the bad tipper who usually showed up at the door. There was clearly either trouble in paradise or they had an open relationship, I’ll never know the truth.

I had dozens of regulars, but I think it was the Flannagan’s I most enjoyed. Very few customers invited me in. With most, niceties and a quick handoff was the norm. The Flanagan’s were different. This Irish couple considered me part of the family. There was usually a snack offered up and always a sweet kiss from Mrs. Flanagan. They were in their sixties, frequently laughing and carrying on and genuinely interested in my day. I knew they drank a lot because I kept inventory. They loved scotch, but oddly only Mr. Flanagan smelled of alcohol; Mrs. Flanagan smelled sweet (over 40 years ago and I can almost recall her scent). Mrs. Flanagan always answered the door. Mr. Flanagan was usually in his Easyboy. I remember seeing him fairly bruised-up a few times; he’d clearly fallen, inebriated and broken most of the time. Sometimes there was a third person, usually a man, always drunk. I would be introduced as “the son.” Keep in mind this all took place in the matter of minutes, I always had other deliveries to make. I knew when they’d cashed their social security check because my tip was always doubled.

As months went by it became clear to me that Mrs. Flanagan was developing quite a crush; her lips often lingered on my cheek and her hands sometimes wandered to my chest. I would squirm away from her clutches thinking it was all very innocent; however, there was one time when she went too far. On this particular delivery, Mrs. Flanagan was more pissed than usual. It might have been during the Christmas holidays, as if she needed an excuse to imbibe. She came around her kitchen table and moved toward me. I backed myself up against the wall and put my hands up in front of me. She pushed herself on me quickly and before I could stop her, her tongue worked its way down my throat and she started grinding her hips into my groin area. Mr. Flanagan warned her to back off, but she persisted. I did not say a word, pushed her off of me and ran out, this time without a tip.

I waited days for the Flanagan’s to place an order. I didn’t feel threatened by Mrs. Flanagan because I was clearly stronger and I knew I could resist her advances. I did feel guilty. I thought that perhaps I had led her to believe that I wanted her affection. When the door opened, it was Mr. Flanagan standing there with cash in hand. He said hello and quickly passed the money to me. I started to reach into my pocket to give him change and he replied, “Keep it,” he then closed the door in my face. I didn’t see or hear Mrs. Flanagan that day. The tip was five and change; way larger than usual. Future deliveries to the Flanagan’s were mostly transactional. Mrs. Flanagan usually came to the door; kisses and invitations to enter were a thing of the past. I was both relieved and saddened by the state of affairs. I guess that $5 tip was guilt money.

I would often return from a delivery later than usual and the Parks would want to know why it took so long. Mrs. Park especially loved gossip and she’d try to squeeze information about our customers out of me. I made it a game. I’d be cagey at first, tease her a bit, let some time go by, perhaps a couple of deliveries, and then when I’d see she was about to explode from anticipation, I’d share a bit; perhaps what a customer’s apartment was like or who answered the door, Mrs. Park was jealous that I got to see a small part of their customers’ lives. I never did tell the Parks about Mrs. Flanagan, that was my secret, never to be told — until now that is.

I never did learn the first names of most of my customers. I guess an invisible wall existed between them and me. I supplied them their poison and they were grateful, but protective; grateful for my service, but protective of their privacy. So I rode my delivery bicycle through pounding rain, freezing wind, and heavy snow and they rewarded me handsomely. I made enough money part-time to pay rent and utilities, buy groceries, and save for tuition. Of all the events that shaped my experience for those couple of years, the time I spent with Miss Greene outside of her apartment was the most memorable.

Miss Greene suffered from severe agoraphobia. The idea of leaving her apartment terrified her and made her a prisoner in her own home. When she asked me to take her to the bank I had no idea that she was struggling with this affliction; nor did I know what I was in for. She offered me $20 which was surprising because she was a terrible tipper. I picked her up after school, eager to get the deed done.

I must admit I was pretty cavalier about the whole thing. I honestly thought it would all be over in 30 minutes and I’d be picking out a new sweatshirt at Korvettes (department store now out-of-business). When I got to her door it was slightly ajar, which was never the case. She had on make-up which I found shocking, and a long heavy overcoat; it was early June and fairly warm. She asked for my arm and told me that she had called car service. When she grabbed my arm, I noticed her nails were long and dirty. I had to remind myself that I had a good tip coming. Miss Greene was shaking from head to toe, her lips quivered, and her nails were tearing at my skin. The walk down the two flights of stairs took over 20 minutes and at times, I was fairly certain she was going to collapse. I was strong, but I feared she’d fall and I wouldn’t be able to pick her up. When we got to the front door of the building she began to gently weep. I offered words of encouragement. I honestly wasn’t sure we could pull this off, in fact, I was certain we would not.

The car service driver noticed our struggle and came toward us to offer a hand. Miss Greene clutched onto me even harder and wouldn’t look at the driver. I winked at him and he seemed to understand. He asked me if Miss Greene was my grandmother and I told him that she was — I believe at that moment, she could have been my grandmother. We made it into the car. Miss Greene remained quiet and stared down at her feet. I cannot describe my feelings as all this was going down. I was filled with dread, fear, and pride. I worried for her; her fear was visceral and she seemed so tiny. The pride I was feeling had to do with the trust she had in me. I was only 18 years old, but on that day I was a man.

From start to finish, it took two hours to get the task done. The bank manager agreed to allow us to remain in the bank after closing. Everyone around us seemed to understand her pain. Up until that point in my life, I’m not sure I had witnessed that kind of empathy. The day did not get easier for Miss Greene. When we got to her door she was drenched in sweat and clearly spent. I lowered her onto her sofa, repulsed by the horrible smell in her apartment. Her sister peeked out of the bedroom door and retreated when I saw her. Miss Greene thanked me and gave me $40. It was the largest tip I ever received from one of my customers. I tried to refuse it, but it was important to her that I take it. I knew that I would never be the same. My arm remained black and blue for a week, but my pity for Miss Greene stayed with me a good deal longer. I kept my deed secret for a long time, never sharing what I had done with the Parks. When I arrived late for work that afternoon, I lied and said that I was held up at school. I felt no guilt, only sadness. Miss Greene continued to order vodka and increased her tip from 20 cents to a quarter. Her demeanor never changed and she never mentioned our afternoon at the bank. I have thought of her often since that day. I imagine her liver must have failed her at some point. I wondered which one of them went first, her or her sister, perhaps mercifully they died at the same time. I also wonder how many Miss Greenes wake up a prisoner in their own homes each day. My problems seem so small in comparison.

When I see a young person working, I imagine they might be learning the kind of life lessons I learned working for the Parks. I think, good for them, and I’m grateful for having had the experience.

Names have been changed to protect the guilty. Several grammatical errors were corrected.

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 “Summer is the annual permission slip to be lazy. To do nothing and have it count for something. To lie in the grass and count the stars. To sit on a branch and study the clouds.”  ~ Regina Brett

Future Travel

Basel, Switzerland in September, Asia land & sea, end of October/November and South Africa land & sea in February. My sister Debbie and her husband Lynn, will be joining me on a visit to our father’s birthplace in the Puglia region of Italy in 2025.

Current State-of Mind

Refreshed, grateful and hopeful. That which doesn’t kill you . . .

Reposts for new readers and when I’ve had a busy week. With well over 200 posts, I have lots to choose from. Please forgive any typographical or grammatical errors.

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What or Who Inspires You?

What Lights a Spark Under Your Bum

inspire

verb

  1. 1.fill (someone) with the urge or ability to do or feel something, especially to do something creative. “His philosophy inspired a later generation of environmentalists.” Google def.

To fill with the urge to do or feel something. Not so easy is it? Do you inspire people? Does it matter to you? Did it once matter, but it doesn’t anymore? With age, cynicism often follows. You’ve been around the block a few times; therefore, you’re no longer easily impressed and/or moved.

I love that they use the word “environmentalists” when providing an example of inspiration in a sentence. Inspiration can sometimes be when you are moved to act; when something touches you in a way that causes you to take a stand. These days I am inspired by Ukrainians who are fighting for and standing up for their freedom. I also have a fair number of prolific artists in my life; their ability to create beautiful works of art inspires me. Photographers, painters, creative cooks, carpenters, weavers, sculptors, stained glass artists, woodworkers, writers — I have wonderfully creative individuals all around me.

How Do You Know When You’re Inspired?

Inspiration comes in many different shapes and sizes. Sometimes you wake up and suddenly feel you have to make something. Sometimes you pick up a pen and the inspiration runs through your fingers. Other times someone says something to you and it hits you like a brick thrown from two feet away. Whatever form it takes, receive it with gratitude.

Ask yourself, what has happened to me lately that looks, feels, sounds, or smells like inspiration? It is more than likely something inspiring. Words, deeds, nature, a friend, a celebrity, a photograph, a vision, a dream — any and all can be personally inspiring.

How Do You Act on Inspiration?

If you indeed recognize that you have been inspired, do not hesitate to act on it. Always best to start out by taking small steps with a goal in mind. If you think you’ll paint a masterpiece in a day, you’ll only end up feeling defeated. When I wake up inspired to write, I set out to write a paragraph or two; in most cases I’ll write a lot more, but when my expectations are reasonable, I’m usually feeling good about what I’ve accomplished.

DO NOT listen to naysayers who will tell you that you’ll never finish a novel or write a piece of music that will sell or build a model . . . people sometimes impose their own fears and limitations on others. Let’s build one another up instead of putting one another down.

“If people are doubting how far you can go, go so far that you can’t hear them anymore.” —Michele Ruiz

“Write it. Shoot it. Publish it. Crochet it. Sauté it. Whatever. MAKE.” —Joss Whedon

Do You Have to Be Talented in Order to Create?

This answer to this question fills me with hope and gratitude. The answer of course is no, you can be horribly untalented and create an untold number of things: you can write (I am the perfect example), you can paint, you can choreograph, you can compose music, you can build castles in the sand, you can create delicious dishes that might appear inedible, but delight the taste buds, you can spin a potter’s wheel . . . you get the picture. Whether talent is a natural gift or acquired doesn’t really matter at all; if you enjoy creating, do it for yourself without concern for what others may think.

A Story

I never felt that I had artistic talent — can’t paint, can’t draw, can’t act, can’t make music, but I sure can tell myself I can’t. I had a junior high school teacher that encouraged me to write. She gave me topics and said, “Just write a few words for me. It’s not a test, I won’t judge you, I just want to see what’s inside of you.” Her sincerity and interest made me want to please her. I think she saw a little boy struggling with life and it touched her for reasons I will never know. That year I won an essay contest and I’ve been writing ever since. Don’t wait for someone to pry it out of you; let your inner voices be heard.

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Future Travel

Basel, Switzerland in September, Asia land & sea, end of October/November and South Africa land & sea in February. A brother and sister and their partners will be joining me on a visit to our father’s birthplace in the Puglia region of Italy in 2025.

Current State-of Mind

I’ve come to realize how closely linked my happiness is to the amount of sleep I get and my health; also linked to sleep. When I was a younger man, I didn’t need as much sleep and I took my health for granted. The older I get, the more acutely aware I have become. A friend asked me if I had distractions. Funny thing is that I do have many distractions, but when you’re alone with yourself in the dark, all bets are off.

Thank you to those of you who wrote to me about my last blog. I always appreciate your words and feedback. I will write for as long as my fingers are able to tap the keys.

Please forgive any typographical or grammatical errors.

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I Want to Know the Bits About You that are Unknown to Even You

The Unknown You

I had a friend visiting from the States this week; we had some very intense and interesting conversations about many things. It occured to me that what I enjoyed most was discovering things about Carrie I didn’t know. That’s what got me re-thinking about Johari’s window:

A Very Simplified Discussion of this Model

“The Johari window model is used to enhance the individual’s perception of others. This model is based on two ideas — trust can be acquired by revealing information about you to others and learning yourselves from their feedbacks. Each person is represented by the Johari model through four quadrants or window pane. Each four window panes signifies personal information, feelings, motivation and whether that information is known or unknown to oneself or others in four viewpoints,” Communication Theory.

In lay terms: The open area is what you know about yourself and everyone else knows about you, the blind spot is what others see in you that you do not see in yourself, the hidden area are the things you keep to yourself and purposefully do not reveal to others and lastly the unknown is that part of you that is not yet discovered, by you or others.

When I’m with friends and family, it is the “unknown” I am most interested in exploring. I love it when I’m having a conversation with someone and they say or do something and discover that they are addressing it for the very first time. They get excited about this part of themselves they didn’t know existed and their excitement is contagious and possibly even sparks a new revelation about my own being.

For example, I had a little retreat cottage in Pennsylvania and I asked a friend if he wanted to join me for a weekend of relaxation. Mark happily accepted my invitation; we set out for the country on a Friday evening. Our only agenda was to enjoy the quiet of nature and be with one another (as friends). Mark and I were sitting by the fire on the first night and he said, “So what are we doing tomorrow?” I replied, “Not sure what you’re doing, but I’m going skydiving.” It was something I always wanted to do and I thought it was time. Mark was shocked and for a minute he thought I was joking. He decided to come along for the ride and he’s been skydiving ever since; unlike myself who did it just the once. Mark discovered that the freefall during skydiving gave him a high/thrill he’d never experienced prior; he uncovered a part of himself he might never have known existed. Of course I take full credit. An example of the self-discoveries of which I spoke about earlier.

When I lived in Brooklyn, I had this (above) country place in Milford, Pennsylvania — ten years of grilling on the deck, crazy cocktails, and great conversation. Also a place for Giorgio to taunt coyote and deer. I did lots of soul searching, nature walks, and skydiving. The house was a labor of love, but worth the effort.

Back to Discovering You

A great deal of my content is dedicated to communication; specifically listening. Listening is a beautiful thing when done properly. If we truly stop to listen we will learn so much about one another. Asking the right questions is also essential. For example if someone spends ten minutes telling to about a horrible experience they had with their contractor and then you ask: “So what did you pay for those tiles?” What that says to me is: 1) you weren’t really listening, and/or 2) you lack empathy, and/or 3) you couldn’t care less. Not one of those is positive. We need desperately to hear one another and be seen.

Last week I started to speak, a friend nearly interrupted me and then stopped herself. I said, “Oh no, I’ve made you paranoid.” She replied, “No, you make us better listeners.” Well ain’t that the cat’s pajamas.

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Upcoming Travel

Two months at home and I couldn’t be happier. Basel, Switzerland in September, Asia land & sea end of October/November and South Africa land & sea in February. A brother and sister and their partners will be joining me on a visit to our father’s birthplace in the Puglia region of Italy in 2025. We have time to prepare and I think it will be a life changing trip for all of us.

Current State-of-Mind

We are having remarkably mild weather in the Algarve. It is warm, but it’s not a scorching heat. I hate extreme heat. I’m not sure where the world is headed with climate change affecting so many worldwide, but I worry about it a lot. Since I’m always candid I will tell you that I have gained a bit of weight, which tends to happen when I am content. Time to cut back on cake in the morning and wine in the evening. I’m also considering Portuguese/U.S. dual citizenship. The biggest obstacle is language; however, I am well on my way to a passing score. Dual citizenship is in case I someday choose to reside somewhere else within the European Union. One day at a time . . .

The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling is a podcast I’d recommend if you have any thoughts on the transgender/feminist debate currently being broadly covered in the media. I’m struggling with this issue; although I am sympathetic with transgender and gender dysphoria individuals on rights and freedoms, I also believe that it is unfair for boys or men who have completed the surgical transformation to take part in women’s sports. In addition, I’m concerned about the age of individual’s going through gender transformation. The numbers of individuals who have changed their minds and are going through reverse transformation is increasing. The question, “what is the correct minimum legal age for undergoing gender affirming surgery?” is weighing on my mind. This podcast leans more heavily to the “gender at birth” POV; however, I believe all arguments are fairly presented and discussed.

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Owning Your (My) Political Truth

Half In Half Out of the Proverbial Political Closet

Many of my readers will skip over this blog and with good reason: people are sick and tired of politics. I am! Still, I firmly believe we have an obligation to take part in politics simply because it impacts all of us.

Nevertheless, so many have buried their heads in the sand or chosen to ignore politics due to its divisive nature today. I mostly blame the media for the strong divide and I don’t see it getting any better, anytime soon. News organizations have figured out that if they get us angry enough, we will engage. In some ways it feels like an addiction — we’ll reel you in by giving you a small taste of uncovered or speculated criminal behavior and then we’ll keep you engaged by sharing snippets of hearsay and innuendo. This is not a conspiracy theory, it is known truth. In a way it keeps us off-balance; always seeking the real truth and a favorable outcome. Please note that none of my observations refer to all individuals.

Woke, Liberal, Socialism & Taxing the Wealthy

I recently posted a definition of woke. Above the definition I said that if you are not woke, I do not want you in my life. I was fully aware that some people would read that statement and think that I was addressing them. Don’t get me wrong, I was being serious. But if I were to break it down, what I mean essentially, is that if you do not care for your fellow human being, I’d rather not hang with you. Now how many people would fall into that category? No one I know. But . . . if an individual thought that I was specifically speaking to them, so be it. There will be no begging in my future.

Politicians and the media have made “woke” a polarizing term because they want us to hate and distrust one another. I can’t help but wonder where this polarization will take us as a society. I’m preparing for the worst.

I am a proud liberal and I believe there is a place for socialism; words that have been demonized by conservatives. Will the world ever come together on this? Not so long as capitalism is the world economy. Unfortunately, I believe that someday capitalism will implode; mostly due to greed. I hope I’m not around to see it.

As long as wealthy individuals are contributing to politicians, taxing the rich will be a contentious issue.

When it comes to being woke, I’m not sure why anyone has a problem with it . . . I’m being honest. I don’t think some people understand the meaning of the word.

Picking Sides

I am an independent voter. I want to hear from all of those individuals wanting to represent me and I want to analyze what they have to say. The problem with this scenario is simple: our (the U.S.) political system is not designed to support an independent politician. Other governments in the world are much more inclusive (see Scandinavian governments and some European countries), where representatives of all elected parties are active members of parliament. There are a few independents in the U.S., but the majority of them are democrats who like to portray themselves as free thinking and progressive politicians. It’s difficult to take them seriously knowing that their voices will be drowned out by the majority. Angus King, senator from Maine, is a good example of a bright, moderate leader, who claims to be independent. I’m not sure of his voting record and I don’t want to get mired in detail, but I doubt he ever votes with Republicans on the highly public and media covered issues. I wish I knew more about politics in other countries. I live in Portugal and I understand very little about the politics here.

Currently, the following major issues are meant to divide us: abortion, immigration, taxation, healthcare, gun control, big versus down-sized government, climate change, and others I honestly do not keep up with.

What we have are people voting: along party lines, based on the gender of the candidate, the candidate that will vote to keep their money in their pockets, religious affiliations, and sometimes whomever their spouse or best friend is voting for. How can we ever hope to have a fair and unbiased political system? Some of us like to think that best leader will rise to the top or emerge victorious; however, that leaves far too much to chance. Also, these days the separation lines between church and state are blurred in some places. This might be one of the most dangerous outcomes of politics today.

Who is right and who is wrong? In my mind it’s about what is best for humankind in the long term. I know not everyone agrees. In the end, I pick the side preventing the extinction of human beings and a government that takes care of those in need. If we keep going in our current direction, we will indeed kill one another to the point of extinction. Mother nature can only do so much to protect us. And if you’re of a religious persuasion, history should show you that God does not prevent death, pain or destruction.

Why State Your Case

I’m old fashioned in my thinking about politics. I like to hope that people are gathering information; information that will help them decide which leader that like to have representing their particular agenda. If immigration is at the forefront for you, you’re going to want to know which leader will create policies or vote to accomplish what you believe will be an effective and fair immigration agenda. I would then use my voice to offer up my thoughts on the perspective leaders who see immigration as one of their most important initiatives: how have they voted in the past, what do they have to say on the issue, who do they align themselves with, who do they receive donations from, do they listen to their constituents, etc. Unfortunately many following politics today only listen to one side and unfortunately, that media outlet or individual is only presenting facts or information that create a distorted portrait of the truth. If you show a photograph of individuals running across the border at 3:00 a.m. with a caption along side of it: “Thousands cross the border illegally in the wee morning hours.” This clip is manipulating negative thoughts about immigrants. There is no information about why they’re running, what they are running from or toward, what alternatives they did or did not have, whether or not they attempted to migrate legally — all facts I want to know before I determine the best policy for dealing with it. Instead we have anger based on political bias. “These people are murdering our babies and taking away our jobs,” or our current leaders don’t care who they allow in to our country.”

Where is our compassion? Aren’t the majority of American descendants of immigrants?

I don’t look for conflict, when people disagree with me or have a different point of view, I’m happy to have a civilized conversation.

How You Know When People Don’t Want to Hear Your Opinion or Don’t Like What You’re Posting/Blogging

There are four ways that may inform you when people do not like what you have to say:

  1. People who normally respond to your words (posts) will just ghost or ignore you.
  2. People will straight out tell you they disagree and why (I love this). I enjoy when it initiates a good debate. Listening to all sides, not pointing fingers or placing blame.
  3. People will respond with a generic reaction: eg., you post something about Republicans holding up a vote in the House; someone replies: Republicans and Democrats, they’re all the same.
  4. People will unfriend you on Facebook. This is sort of extreme or passive aggressive, but I have come to realize that most people hate confrontation . . . and with good reason.

I find it’s best to stand by your convictions and accept whatever comes your way. Integrity wins out over comfort and being well liked. We are all motivated by different things.


“There comes a time when one must take a position that is neither safe, nor politic, nor popular, but he must take it because conscience tells him it is right.”
― Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches

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Upcoming Travel

Two months at home and I couldn’t be happier. Basel, Switzerland in September, Asia land & sea end of October/November and South Africa land & sea in February. I’m learning how to be a better traveller.

Current State-of Mind

My neighborhood is finally quiet; the area schools are on summer vacation, home renovations are on hold, the work on my building has been completed (for now), and it’s too hot for people to be out on the street. The quiet is sublime. Knowing it’s temporary makes it even more special.

I don’t want silence 24/7. A little bit of city noise (traffic, sirens, airplanes in the distance) is nice; it’s a reminder that life is going on all around you.

Please continue to enjoy your summer. I travel to find truth and the best bowl of pasta.

Please forgive all grammatical and typographical errors. Thank you.

Posted on by CP · 2 Comments

A Morning Person

Revisited with updates. Done on my tablet, so it may be wonky.

Paco taking in the morning sun on the terrace
A foggy morning

Early morning defined:  the hours between 5 a.m. and 7 a.m. (lately 4:30 a.m. even early by my standards).

I have been a morning person my entire life. My mom always reminded me that I would wake the entire household when I got out of bed. I don’t get out of bed at 5:15 a.m. because I have to; I wake-up early because I choose to. I haven’t used an alarm clock for 40 years (unless I have a 6:00 a.m. flight). Here are just ten reasons I love the early morning:

  1. It may just be the quietest time of the day. Night owls have finally gone to bed.
  2. You can watch the sun come up. For me the morning represents hope, change and a boat load of energy.
  3. That first cup of coffee. I drank decaf for years; it’s never been about the caffeine.
  4. It’s when my energy level is at its highest and I’ve tested this.
  5. I feel like I own the world (sort of grandiose I know).
  6. I feel like I can do just about anything.
  7. I’m usually the first to get to wherever I’m going.
  8. By the time I get to the gym — usually empty in the morning, I am fully awake.
  9. No one calls me before Noon because of the time difference between Europe and the U.S.
  10. “The early bird catches the worm!”

Knowing When You Are Most Productive

For the most part (there are exceptions), I wake up fully energized in the morning. I have a mental ‘to do’ list and I’m eager to start checking off the boxes. I know that by a certain point during the day, my energy level will begin to wane. I discovered my peak period during my freshman year in college. I was forced to register for a couple of 8:00 a.m. classes because they were the only classes with spots left by the time the juniors and seniors registered. Not sure how it’s done these days; back then Freshman got whatever scraps were left. Did not matter much to me, the courses I liked were not the popular choices (e.g., wellness, sociology, African-American studies).

I often found myself sitting in a nearly empty classroom. Most of the students who had enrolled, could not get their asses out of bed. I would arrive early, eager to learn — haters, stop hating. My instructors were often impressed with my attentive behavior and I was usually rewarded for it. My Pavlovian inclinations and ‘aim to please’ character traits were a recipe for success. You have to become aware of your assets; mine were always charm and being upbeat. I’m not ashamed to admit any of this. It was never about superior intelligence; lucky for me common sense and ambition were appreciated (and rewarded).

Throughout my college career, I continued to take morning classes, followed by library time and mental exercise (leisure reading, etc.). Whenever I started to get sluggish, usually after lunch, I would go to the gym to recharge my battery. Fortunately, I had a part-time job that required me to work early evenings. I was reliable and dependable and I sucked up to authority. Say what you will, but my debt was minimal and for the most part, I was allowed to study at work.

The Advantages of Getting There Before Anyone Else

Markets:  Food markets usually get started early; often by 8:00 a.m. When you arrive early you get first pick of all the fresh food. Depending on how you get there, the earlier you arrive, the more parking there will be.

Government Offices:  Being one of the first to arrive at a government office has several advantages. I usually take a good book and try to get there an hour before they open. Government staff are dealing with some crazy stuff and the later you get there, the more agitated they are — not always the case, however, in my experience . . .

Doctor’s Offices:  Doctors get backed up. Sometimes appointments are scheduled every 15 minutes. If the first person takes 30 minutes, everything gets thrown-off and it only gets worse as the day goes by. I always ask for the first appointment if I can get it. Even if it means I have to delay seeing the doctor for a few days, it’s usually worth it.

Early Flights and Tourist Destinations:  Earlier flights have a better on-time record. As the day goes on delays can pile up and cause travel nightmares. If you’re going to a tourist destination, people with small children usually arrive a lot later because kids take some time to get ready in the morning. Get there early and you’ll surely have a more peaceful experience. I love kids. Did I tell you that I love kids?

The Road: Getting on the road early will save you lots of time and aggravation. I think traffic is on my top three list of things I hate most. I have always done everything I could possibly do to avoid it.

Bakery:  Baked goods right out of the oven are worth getting up early for . . . enough said.

Early Morning Sex:  You have more energy and you can see your partner in natural light. Don’t laugh; it’s true. A distant memory I’m afraid.

Write me if you think of others.

A good piece on early morning productivity (click).

You May Have to Put Your Phone On ‘Do Not Disturb’

Most of my friends and family know that I’m in bed by 9:00 p.m. — at times, much to their dismay. But because they’re human, they forget, and I occasionally get a text or telephone call that gets me out of bed. On nights when I need a solid seven hours, I put my phone on ‘do not disturb.’ There is a small part of me that feels guilty about this, however, there isn’t enough guilt to stop me from doing it. I do this every night now.

Disadvantages

When there is an upside, you can be certain that there will be a downside. The following are several issues related to being an early riser:

  1. Most of the people in my life (nearly all in fact) are not morning people. You know who you are. You like to stay up late watching television/Netflix or reading or being out on the town or passing the hours waiting to be sleepy enough to hit the sack. There was a time in my life when saying goodnight to these folks was embarrassing for me. I would sheepishly walk toward the bedroom and feel guilty for calling it a night. That’s a thing of the past; however, I do sometimes go to bed and miss a really good conversation and/or a bit of juicy gossip. The wine flows and the guard comes down and I’m already two hours into la la land.
  2. There are genuinely times when I would like to go out dancing. Most dance clubs don’t get going until way past midnight. Staying up that late is very difficult for me. I force myself to do it occasionally because I believe being a social animal is important for my relationships and potential dating life. It’s way too easy to crawl under a comfy blanket. Especially after discovering Portuguese cotton; life changing, trust me. A disco nap (you may not know the term if you’re less than 40). The night out dancing is also a distant memory.
  3. People do get annoyed with you when you say you’d like to have dinner by 7:00 p.m. The problem with retiring early, is that if you eat too late, the food just sits in your stomach and can be disruptive to sleep. Again, most of my friends put up with me. I like giving dinner parties; this way I get to decide when dinner is served.
  4. Speaking of dinner parties . . . I am so glad that I do not live in Japan. In Japan, if you host dinner guests, you cannot call it a night while said guests are enjoying your hospitality. When your guests decide to go home, then and only then, can you say goodnight. I cannot tell you how many times I have asked my guests to leave my apartment. In fact, when I host guests overnight, I almost always go to bed long before they do.
  5. When I am an overnight guest in someone’s home, I do not hesitate to ask them to grind their coffee beans and set up their coffee maker before they go to bed. Conversely, when I have guests, I grind my beans the night before so that I do not wake them at 5:00 a.m. — it’s the little things that differentiate one from other hosts; good hospitality means letting your guests sleep-in.
  6. No matter what time I go to bed, I usually wake up at the same time every morning. It’s not a good thing, but I’ve learned that there isn’t much I can do about it.
  7. It’s not good for dating.
  8. If you like award shows, you’re screwed.

You’re not a morning person, but you’d like to be? I know people who have successfully made the change. For the rest of you, stay who are and keep the morning quiet for me.

Future Travel

It’s a ways off, Basel, Switzerland in September. Big Asia trip September/October — five countries in three weeks; land and sea. South Africa February 2024 and back to Oslo next July. Travel light diet these days; not baggage, time away.

Current State of Mind

I am currently in Oban, Scotland. It’s been a truly wonderful trip (home tomorrow). Spent time with friends, enjoyed nature, saw lots of castles, ate well (when do I not eat well). It’s been a time of reflection and peace of mind. I’ve realized who my true friends are and what is important now. The essence of life is gratitude and enjoying the moment, for all that I have, I am grateful.

A friend sent me this photo recently. I don’t recall which friend or where he, she or they took it. I tried to add a photo of my current view, but alas, it won’t work, so you’ll have to settle for this. The sender will come to me at 2:00 a.m. (for sure).
Posted on by CP

The Evolution of My Political Ideology

Not about Party Affiliation

The Evolution of My Political Mind

It would be way too easy to rant and rave about the “other” party, but that’s not what this blog is about. It’s about politics in general and why I believe we’re all so divided. Taking sides is nothing new, we all know it’s been the case since the beginning of time. It almost seems as if we were born to be fractious — as if it’s in our DNA. I know I can’t fix the world; however, it’s been part of my own journey to make peace within my heart and mind. I constantly have to remind myself that I am only responsible for myself.

We need to reflect and recall that every hate campaign in history ended badly for the haters.

Naive Childhood

I was raised by a bigoted father and an over-the-top liberal mother. Fortunately, my public school education in New York City exposed me to diversity, tolerance, an accurate retelling of history, and critical thinking. There were mistakes made in teaching; however, I was provided with the tools to think for myself.

Angry Youth

I was young, righteous, and full of balled-up energy. It was the unjust establishment I hated and fought. I went to every march and protest. I wrote poetry to express my thoughts and feelings. It was the time HIV and AIDS, Women’s Rights, Gay Rights, Human Rights, Trickle Down Economics, etc.; there was a lot to be angry about. I was naive, but it did seem as if resistance and conviction brought about change. I witnessed the end of the Vietnam War and the resignation of Richard Nixon. I felt empowered and hopeful.

Complacent Middle Age

My career was everything at a certain point in my life; at the expense of relationships, a social life and everything else that should have mattered. Politics was the last thing on my mind and so I tuned it out. I’m not even sure I voted; I hope I voted. I am ashamed of how pitifully self-absorbed and apathetic I was at the time. Coming from two southern universities during my 20s didn’t help; the south was resistant to change and I was complacent.

Raging Angry Older

Me now. I’m always angry. The left, the right, the lies. I’m so tired of learning things the U.S. government (and other governments) does, like the raises Congress gives themselves, their healthcare for life, their generous time off, and their justification of all of the above. I’m angry about lawlessness and corruption and tax laws that favor the rich and the loss of personal freedoms and children starving while billions of dollars is stored in tax sheltered churches and non-profit institutions and big pharma and big agriculture and shady deals that favor monopolies and the regression of laws that protect minorities and sending immigrants back to war and poverty and uncharitable foundations and agism, sexism, anti-gay, anti-women, anti-transgender and dozens of children dying every day because of antiquated gun laws or pro-gun second amendment idealists, and on and on.

I’m old enough to know that there have always been causes and corruption, but I’m idealistic. I want to believe that there is hope, that we change for the better, but I’m not sure that’s true. Perhaps this is how humankind was meant to function — perpetual dysfunction.

Balance and Peace of Mind

When the world around you is in a state of chaos, and when is it not, what do you do? It seems to me that those who say that if something is out of your control, you have to let it go, are giving the best advice. You do what works best for you and let others judge themselves.

If you have the courage and strength to fight, fight the good fight. I am encouraged and hopeful that today’s youth will change the horrible world they’ve inherited. I’d like to think that I’ll be around to see it.

What I Can Do

  • Vote
  • Speak up when I hear a non-truth
  • Educate people I care about
  • Meditate
  • Walk away
  • Breathe
  • Nothing (sometimes it’s the best response)

“Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedies.”

— Groucho Marx

What troubles me more than anything, is the failure of our educational institutions and media outlets to educate in earnest. Our citizenry also has to take responsibility for resisting the truth and disregarding facts. We can do better.

Future Travel

Scotland is coming up in a few weeks; a brief September trip to Basel Switzerland, followed by Dubai, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, and Hong Kong in late September and October; South Africa in early 2024.

Current State of Mind

I had some visitors from the States who were gracious and non-demanding. Having guests is a lot of work, but some make it easy. It truly made me feel grateful for all that I have. They reminded me that it has all to do with the choices I have made. You know what, they’re right. Embrace the good and let go of what you cannot control.

Posted on by CP · 12 Comments

Accepting Who You See in the Mirror

Revised and Updated

“Today is the oldest you’ve ever been, and the youngest you’ll ever be again.”― Eleanor Roosevelt

Eleanor Roosevelt

Eleanor seemed to have it together. My goal is to think the way Eleanor thought. Well, we know that’s not happening. I took these selfies recently and let me tell you, I’m not a selfie taker (I read that all selfie takers say that). I’m not sure why I took them or where I took them, but they do pretty much sum up how I feel about getting older.

Getting older is not for the faint of heart (a friend shared that it was Mae West who gets credit for this quote). Sometimes I look in the mirror and I think:  it’s not fair that my father was handsome his entire life or see that wattle under your chin? — you deserve it for teasing mom about her’s. I want to love every line on my face and embrace my sagging eyelids and I want to believe that there is a reason there is more hair in my ears than on the top of my head; although I might have to let that one go.

I was coerced and cajoled into going to a Carnival party last night. You know the feeling:  I’m too old, I’ll be invisible. I don’t want to dance, the food will suck, and so on. I pushed myself so that I could prove to myself and my new Portuguese friends, that I could party with the best of them. I decided to wear whiteout make-up in hopes that it would cover my lines, I sported a new t-shirt, newly refurbished black boots and some borrowed red lipstick. I made an effort and it worked. I had a great time and although I wished the party had started a bit earlier, I stuck it out for a few hours and I went to sleep smiling; facial lines intact.

I know all of this is normal growing older stuff and I know that at some point I will probably embrace it, but that doesn’t mean I should stop trying to be better at it now. In the meantime, I need to continue to push myself outside of my comfort zone.

Some Things One Can Do to Embrace the Aging Process:

  1. Take care of your skin — Twenty years ago, I paid quite a lot of money for a facial in New York City just to learn how to take better care of my skin. The biggest lesson I learned was about toner. It’s really important to close your pores after you’ve washed your face or shaved. If you do not close your pores or use toner to close your pores, anything you put on your skin will go right into your pores and clog them up. That’s when you end up with blackheads and pimples; yes I still get pimples — moisturizer is also important for preventing wrinkles; dry skin is more likely to wrinkle. Some men are way too macho to care about this stuff, but for those who do, it is possible to have good skin your entire life.
  2. Take care of your body — We all know that unless you eat right and exercise, your body will give you all sorts of problems. Thirty minutes of exercise a few days a week will go a long way for good health. Eating fresh food and taking vitamin supplements are also essential. I do it all in moderation (or I won’t do it). Genetics plays into aging; however, how well you take care of your body, is a huge factor in how well you age.
  3. Stay sharp — Mind, body and spirit are usually the three aspects of your life that experts point to when discussing good health. Keeping your mind sharp means that you have to exercise your brain. Sitting in front of your television can be relaxing and benefit your mental wellbeing, but doing things that stimulate your mind are key to staying mentally sharp. Reading, puzzles, attending lectures, and participating in stimulating conversation, are examples of things you can do to stay sharp. Don’t let your brain atrophy.
  4. Dress Up — This is a difficult one for me. Give me a nice cotton t-shirt and some soft cotton sweatpants and I’m good to go. That’s okay for grocery shopping or taking a brisk walk, but when you’re going out for dinner or to a concert, make the extra effort and dress up a bit. People around you will show you how much they appreciate the effort. When we get lazy and let ourselves go, it affects the way we feel about ourselves and has a negative impact on the way we interact with others. It can be so subtle we don’t see it, but trust me, it’s there. Experiment with this and wear a sports jacket and tie to dinner; you’ll see a big difference in the way people treat you — you too ladies (without the tie though).
  5. Pamper yourself — vacation, massage, long walk on the beach and so many other things you can do to say “I love you” to yourself.
  6. Be graceful and gracious — Always put your best self forward. Good manners and a positive attitude go a long way in navigating the world around you. We all need one another at one point or another. Show the people around you that you appreciate them; when you need something, people will remember how you treated them or whether or not you thanked them. We all need to be appreciated. I have had to remind several people in my life that I should not and will not be taken for granted. It’s all part of being a good friend or family member — we can all learn from one another. People always say that the world was once a kinder, gentler place. It’s difficult to know how true that statement is; however, it doesn’t hurt to strive to improve; we all benefit from a kinder world.
  7. Volunteer — An opportunity to give back, do something fulfilling and meet new people.
  8. Remember the alternative is not-so-good

There was a time I would look at someone with obvious plastic surgery and get all judgy about it. I’ve evolved and no longer care. Do whatever you want to do to yourself if it will help you feel better.

What to Say to People When They Ask You How Old You Are

  • I used to add ten years onto my age to see what kind of reaction I’d get. One time I did that and the person said, “That’s what I would have guessed.”  Needless to say, I stopped doing that.
  • You can stand tall and proudly declare your exact age.
  • You can lie if it makes you feel better.
  • You can say, “I’m in my 50s but I feel like I’m 30. Don’t I look 30 (update)?” And then laugh at yourself; always laugh at yourself.
  • You can tell people what was happening in the world when you were born. There was a major solar eclipse on the day I was born. I like sharing that for some reason. I believe the strength of the sun on the day I was born had a lot to do with my birth. You don’t have to agree with me, that’s okay.
  • I wouldn’t say, “How old do you think I am?” unless you are prepared for their answer.
  • You can say, “Old enough.”
  • You can say, “I have a few years on you or I think you may be older than me (be prepared to die (update).
  • Fill in the blank __________________________.

How Others Age

Try not to compare yourself to others. Like I said earlier, genetics plays a major role in aging. Some people seem to have better skin. Some people have arthritis and some don’t. Some people can build muscle more easily. You get my point; be easier on yourself.

One of the things I love about growing older is that you seem to care less about what others think — it’s freeing, to say the least. I’m looking forward to caring even a little less. I’m talking about the divisive stuff, not the loving and caring stuff.

A couple of good articles:

Aging in Beauty

Learning to Love Growing Old

Coping with Aging

Future Travel

I am happy to say that I am home in Portugal until July 4 when I will leave for Scotland. We have beautiful weather here in June and the tourists will not arrive in huge numbers for a few weeks (at least not in Faro). So coming up I have Scotland, Asia for three weeks and then South Africa in 2024. That is pretty much it; I hope to keep it this way for awhile. Traveling by air has become exhausting and anxiety producing. I can handle only so much of that insanity.

My Current State of Mind

I am happy to be home with Paco and sleeping in my own bed. I have no regrets about getting caught-up in the French air traffic control strike or my 24 hour flight delay, and I missed Portugal. The ol’ allergies are not as bad either.

Please do me a great favor: if I ever offend you, hurt you, annoy you, etc. find a kind way to tell me. I honestly want to be a better human and you can help.

Posted on by CP · 3 Comments

Pain Management of the Arthritis Variety

You too? I’m finding arthritis to be very common among my peers.

Where I’m headed

My father was middle aged when I was born and old when I was in my 20s and 30s. He suffered from very painful arthritis in several parts of his body. I remember thinking, I’m going to take care of myself and that won’t be me. Wrong. . . that is me.

I started running when I was 17 years old, having been told it was a great way to lose baby fat; I had a lot of baby fat. One of my two female roommates struggled with her weight as well and so, we ran together. A combination of running and eating better helped me become a trimmer, happier young man. Running became an addiction. In truth, I ran to survive. Running was one of the only activities that would calm my brain. It provided results and allowed me to eat pretty much anything I loved. I ran almost everyday for thirty years. I ran marathons. I ran when I traveled. A few years ago I had so much pain from inflammation, I had to stop running.

Being a large man, 6 ft., 200 lbs., didn’t pair well with running. That’s a whole lot of weight hitting that hard New York City pavement. Running eventually led to inflammation of my joints, which eventually led to chronic arthritis.

I recall doing laps in my Brooklyn pool (my building had an indoor pool) and feeling cramping in feet, thinking what the heck is this? It was the early stages of arthritis; more than likely from running. That cramping and discomfort has never gone away and now, I live with it in my feet, knees, lower back, shoulders, and just recently my hands. It’s chronic and annoying as hell. I am a fairly physical person; always on the move, always challenging my physical limitations. It’s getting harder and harder to keep that up.

Five Remedies

A few of these remedies are healthier than others. I will list them in order of what I believe to be the healthiest to the potentially dangerous:

  1. Stretching — I’m not sure if stretching actually helps arthritis, but I do know it feels good. Inflammation can make you stiff and stiffness is uncomfortable and painful. Loosening up your joints can give you sweet relief. I stretch at the gym for about 10 minutes before I workout in the morning. I know that I should probably spend more time on my back and legs, but I’m always anxious to start my workout and get it over with.
  2. Devil’s Claw — Native to southern Africa, devil’s claw (Harpagophytum procumbens) gets its name from the tiny hooks that cover its fruit. Historically, devil’s claw has been used to treat pain, liver and kidney problems, fever, and malaria. It has also been used in ointments to heal sores, boils, and other skin problems (Mt. Sinai). I’ve been taking Devil’s Claw in pill form for three months. It took four-to-six weeks to feel the effects. I’m not 100% sold on Devil’s Claw; however, I did notice that when I went from 500 to 1500 mg. three times a day, it did make a difference. You never really know if it’s the placebo effect or it’s truly working. I’m going to keep taking it; it’s inexpensive, has no side effects, and it is recommended by medical doctors throughout Europe.
  3. Cayenne — Inflammation is the body’s natural response to injury or infection, and it often causes redness, swelling, pain, or heat. Cayenne pepper and other hot spices are widely considered powerful anti-inflammatory spices that can help reduce chronic inflammation and pain (HealthifyMe). I take a 1/4 teaspoon in warm water every morning. It’s not easy to swallow, but it’s another thing I believe can only help. And . . . it’s really cheap.
  4. CBD — Research suggests that CBD can ease inflammation, among other potential benefits. Research suggests that CBD’s anti-inflammatory properties may be beneficial for rheumatoid arthritis, as it affects certain cell viability. It may also have a synergetic effect on rheumatoid arthritis medication (Google). I don’t know enough about CBD to tout its benefits. I use it as a topical remedy in cream form. I purchased CBD oil (without THC) and put a few drops in body cream. I rub it into my shoulders and back and hope for the best. I wish I could tell you it works; I’m not sure.
  5. Ibuprofen — a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug (NSAID) used to treat mild to moderate pain, and helps to relieve symptoms of arthritis (osteoarthritis, rheumatoid arthritis, or juvenile arthritis), such as inflammation, swelling, stiffness, and joint pain (Mayo Clinic). The current recommendations for ibuprofen are to limit daily use to no more than 30 days. Dosing can range from 400 mg to 800 mg up to 4 times a day, with a daily maximum of 3200 mg per day. Above this limit, the negative effects of COX inhibition begin to outweigh the desired benefits of decreased discomfort and pain (Mdmercy.com). This last bit is what concerns me. I dated a medical doctor for several years. He repeatedly warned me about the long term side-effects of ibuprofen. I only take ibuprofen if my pain or discomfort is intolerable; not very often.

I’m not going to lie, I fear that the inflammation in my joints willworsen over time. The only hope is there has been tremendous relief in my right knee pain. I suffered with intense discomfort for several years and when I moved to Portugal this pain went away. I’m not sure if less humidity contributed to its disappearance or if no longer running helped it go away; perhaps it’s a combination of the two. Whatever it is, I am grateful. It gives me hope that I might find relief in other parts of my body.

Arthritis in my hands is a big concern. It seems to be isolated to the joints between my thumb and the pointing finger. Stretching and rubbing the area does help.

I hope my own experience and research has been helpful for some of you who suffer as I do. Helping ourselves through life’s challenges, empowers us to work through any obstacle to our happiness and well-being. I’m challenging myself to stay positive.

“It’s better to feel pain, than nothing at all.”

— Anonymous

Upcoming Travel

Provence (south of France) today. I’ll be visiting several wineries and returning to points-of-interest; it’s been awhile since I visited Provence. I will be seeing friends and eating well. My Airbnb has an amazing view of Marseille; a city I’ve never visited. I think this trip will do me a world of good.

Current State-of-Mind

I had a day this week that blew me away and I hope it happens again soon. I woke up on Monday morning feeling like Superman. I knew that I could and would accomplish anything and I did. I ran through my To Do list in record time and I did a lot that wasn’t on my list. My energy level was at an all-time high; I took full advantage of it and reaped the rewards.

I’ve done some redecorating in my apartment and I’m very pleased with the results. My nest has always been important to me, as I get older even more so. Minimal, colorful, and comfortable — that’s what I like. More and more, I trust my instincts and embrace the results.

“Life is a matter of choices, and every choice you make makes you.” —John C. Maxwell

As always please forgive grammatical and/or typographical errors. Especially this time as I am writing on my tablet.

Posted on by CP · 4 Comments

Maximizing Quality Sleep

Being Realistic At the Same Time

Caution: Do not read this blog if TMI is a problem for you. I apologize that the subject matter is sort of bland this week. This is what happens when things are moving along swimmingly well.

This is based on a lifetime of experience and many sleepless nights.

The Perfect Night’s Sleep

I am going to begin by describing what I believe to be the perfect night’s sleep. Later I will go into individual needs, what works versus what doesn’t, why sleep matters, and what to do if you did/do not achieve your sleep goals.

When I wake-up naturally after 7 1/2 to 8 Hours sleep feeling rested, fresh, and with clarity (fond memories of my last dream), I can accomplish just about anything. The difference is a good day versus a challenging day. I have not used an alarm clock since I was a university student. No matter what time I go to bed, my body wakes up at about 4:30 a.m. It used to be just after 5:00 a.m., however, lately I have been dozing off by 8:30 p.m. I know that may seem early for some, but this is the time my body shuts down. If and when I listen to my body, I get a good night’s sleep. I have a few friends who think I’m missing out on fun nighttime activities, to them I say, you’re missing out on the splendor of the early morning.

My Needs In Order to Achieve a Good Night’s Sleep

It is important for me to be thoughtful about my sleep patterns. I have a very common problem for older men where an enlarged prostate wakes you up in the middle of the night so that you can urinate prior to returning to sleep (hopefully). Without medication, I was waking up three or more times each night and experiencing difficulty urinating. With medication I can sleep longer and urinate more easily and less frequently. This means I have to remember to take the medication when it is meant to be taken. I’ve been on Redict for about a year; thankfully, it is the only medication I take. My urologist would like to avoid surgery and I am 100% on board with that.

What Works Versus What Does Not Work (be prepared for more information than you need)

  • A dark room is essential
  • Minimal outside noise (my bedroom is at the back of my apartment mainly because the city picks up the trash anytime between 2:00 and 5:00 a.m. in my section of Faro — it’s crazy loud. I used to hear dogs barking in the middle of the night, but fortunately that has either stopped or I no longer hear it.
  • My sheets must be a soft cotton and washed once-a-week; if I’m even a day late I can tell the difference.
  • I have purchased over fifty pillows over the last forty years, attempting to find the right one. I still do not feel as if I have it right. I currently sleep on one medium density goose down pillow. I have had neck surgery due to multiple issues; therefore, without proper neck support, I wake up with a stiff neck.
  • My bedroom needs to be free of odors. I recently tried a new fabric softener and I had to wash my sheets the next day.
  • The temperature of my bedroom needs to be somewhere between 60 and 65 F.
  • My blanket must be light year round. Down is ideal in winter and cotton in summer. The in-between months are challenging, but at this point I know to keep a variety of covers nearby in case I need to make a change.
  • I cannot drink more than one cocktail or two glasses of wine within two hours of going to bed. If I exceed this amount, I wake in a pool of sweat.
  • Wherever I am sleeping, a toilet has to be close by. I recently stayed in an Airbnb where the listing stated there was a bathroom in the sleeping loft; indeed there was a bathroom, except that it didn’t have a toilet. I had to go up and down a narrow flight of stairs — needless to say, little to no sleep.
  • My space has to be super clean.

Perhaps now you will better understand why I live alone. The Princess and the Pea children’s book is relatable.

Why It Matters

There are two reasons it matters a great deal: first, without the proper amount of sleep I do not function well. I do not think straight, I make mistakes, I can be short with people, I don’t enjoy food as much — you get the picture. Second, I know that I am much healthier when I sleep well.

Dreaming is an important part of my sleeping pattern. When I have a deeper sleep, I dream all night and wake-up feeling so much better.

An afternoon nap usually helps when I’m sluggish. Even if I do get a full eight hours, an afternoon nap can be quite delicious.

“The best bridge between despair and hope is a good night’s sleep.”

— E. Joseph Cossman

Random Ideas for A Good Night's Sleep
  • Manifest your goal by imagining it
  • Treat yourself to a fabulous hotel room
  • Keep lavender near your bed
  • Do not eat right before you go to bed
  • Keep your television out of the bedroom
  • Instead of drinking water in the middle of the night, I gargle with it and spit it out — for obvious reasons.
  • Do not paint your bedroom with loud colors; neutral, soothing colors work better
  • Think pleasant thoughts. If you journal, put it down on paper and get it out of your head.
  • Attempt to resolve conflicts before you go to bed.
  • Don’t watch the news before bed
  • Reading a good novel is the best sleep aid
  • Do not spend time on electronic devices right before turning out the light
  • If you can, have a pleasant conversation with someone you care about before you go to sleep
  • The better your day, the better your night
  • If thoughts are looping through your brain, get out of bed and walk around a bit to break the pattern or read for a bit.

Write me if there is something that you do that really works.

When I was living in New York City, there was a period of time when many people were getting bed bugs. It was a nightmare which was expensive and caused a great deal of anxiety. Throughout this period, I imagined that I had bed bugs too many times. I’d wake up in the middle of the night scratching and using a flashlight to check for bugs. Thankfully, I never had them, but the fear was almost as awful as an actual occurrence.

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Future Travel

Provence next week and then I’m going to enjoy the Algarve until early July, when I will be in Scotland for a couple of weeks of cooler northern Europe weather. Fall: Asia, land & sea, and then South Africa in winter. This is all of have planned and I’m going to keep it this way for awhile.

Current State-of-Mind

I’ve added this permanent section to my blog to demonstrate one important fact of life:

Your state-of-mind may not be linked to anything in particular. It took me a very long time to learn that no matter what I do to feel good, there are days or times in my life when I am either uneasy, unhappy, or unhinged. Managing these emotions is a lifelong task. I’m doing this one day at a time with gratitude and good intentions.

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Writing this blog has been helpful on many levels. Any feedback on topics or content is appreciated.

“Life is like the ocean. It dips and dives. You can have a general course of navigation but you can't stop the tide from where it takes you.”
― Isabella Poretsis

As always please forgive any grammatical or typing errors. Oh yes, also forgive my crass and awkward sense-of-humor. And remember, we are all just a little crazy; some are batshit crazy.