Papagni Pages

Tag: food

  • Measuring Success Later In Life

    Notice I said later and not late; it isn’t over yet. When you get older you begin to reflect upon the things that truly matter. It’s actually one of those positive life epiphanies you wish had happened sooner, but alas, like so many things, take it when it comes. So I thought I’d share some of these thoughts with you while I have the nerve to do so.

    None of it is gospel or written in stone. One’s truth sometimes only applies to the beholder. If any of this pig’s dookie resonates or seems reasonable, then I’ve met my expectations. If it leaves you feeling confused or pained, then I was right all along.

    Pleasing other people while neglecting your own wishes, is foolish

    This is a silly example, but it’s the one that comes to mind. I like sparkling water when I dine out. Many times when dining out with friends the waitstaff will ask “sparkling or still?” and a friend will answer for the table and say, “we’ll have still.” There was a time I stayed quiet and just drank still water. Now when this happens, I say, “I’ll have sparkling please.”

    When I’m going to dinner with a friend or with family, I try to get consensus for where we will be dining. If we’re in their hometown, I will acquiesce, thinking they’ll know better. In general, I think it’s only fair that there is some equality in the type of food and the place. There are times when someone will need a gentle reminder about who gets to choose. I’m afraid that I’m not always gentle. If you love food as much as I do you’ll understand.

    Denying yourself certain things that make you truly happy, is bad for you

    I know people that deny themselves all that is good because they think it’s bad for you. Of course, there are many things that are bad for you and should be avoided, but . . . there are other things that might be okay in moderation. I will avoid writing about alcohol or marijuana, which might be triggers. I’ll just mention a few things I will never deny myself unless I’m told they will drastically shorten my life: chocolate, snacks while watching a good film, flying to a place I love (I believe if I deny myself the pleasure of travel because airplane fuel is destroying the ozone, then I am a fool. I have tried saving the planet and have discovered it doesn’t work), and buying a movie ticket in a real movie theatre.

    Trust me, if you completely deny yourself that snack or small thing, you will want it more. Moderation.

    Ignore aches and pains and they will eventually go away

    Last year I had a nagging pain on my right side not too far from my stomach. I thought it was bloating or a muscle sprain from the gym. I had other minor issues that I thought may or may not be related. For months I just ignored it — don’t ask me why humans do this. One day the pain lasted the entire day. I knew it wasn’t my appendix because that’s been removed. If it was my pancreas, I didn’t want to know. Well, it was my gallbladder and I had to have surgery. Once I healed, I felt so much better. If something is wrong with you, it won’t just go away. In fact, if an illness goes untreated, it will, more than likely, get worse.

    Having “things” does not necessarily make you happy

    We have been programmed to think that shiny, pretty things will give us happiness. We often believe that if it’s more expensive, it will give us even more happiness. It might be true for a brief period of time, but this kind of happiness doesn’t last. For most, you quickly become bored with whatever it is and you subconsciously desire the next shiny new thing. Except for iPhones, they don’t count. Mind you I’m an Android user with a four year old phone. For some, the newest iPhone is a religion.

    Fussing with your appearance isn’t a bad thing, especially if you do it for yourself

    This is one of those topics that can really piss people off, so I’m going to play chicken and avoid it. But . . . there is one thing I truly believe, if you do anything at all to change your appearance or improve your looks and you’re doing it because it makes you feel better, that’s a good thing. If anyone tries to tell you otherwise, fuck ’em.

    If you say or do something embarrassing, people will forget quickly

    We’ve all been there. Open mouth, insert foot and a big piece of humble pie. Every time I do this I die a little. The curious thing is, that people quickly forget whatever it is you might have thought was going to cancel you. I’m not talking about something so horrendous you couldn’t possibly show your face again. I’m talking about a minor faux pas, like calling someone by their wrong name or asking an unmarried person about his or her husband. In your mind you messed up big time, but the person on the receiving end will usually just shrug it off. Hey, we’re all human. I take that back.

    Worrying about what people think is a waste of time and energy

    Oh that I could shed this awful habit. I’ve learned that no matter who you are, what you say, what you do, you will piss people off. Those who will think of you, and it should be said that most do not, will often find a reason to dislike you. I am not so virtuous to claim to have never judged or misjudged another. In fact, I believe I’m as guilty as the next guy. All the more reason to believe this truth: the best you can do for yourself and everyone else, is to follow your own path. Be who you want to be and do what you want to do. Those who like, or if you’re lucky enough, love you, will accept you for who you are. When you catch a glimpse of this reality it’s both freeing and comforting. As I stated earlier, I’m only partway there.

    What does success look like?

    I recall sleepless nights cramming for exams at university. Sitting in my dorm room poring over notes while my friends were out partying. When I think about my youth, my one big regret was not having more fun. I do think getting good grades is important, but getting into the “right” school might not be. In fact, I interviewed with several employers who specifically avoided ivy league graduates. I don’t think it’s important to guess why that might be. I won’t lie, my New York University Ph.D. opened doors, but I’m fairly certain other lesser known, less expensive schools would have been good enough.

    Back then, success was all about prestige, a high salary, and a title. I wish I’d known back then, that a mid-management decent salary would have meant a less stressful, possibly happier life. Spending time with people I loved and enjoyed, would probably have provided more meaning than twelve hour workdays. And emailing my boss and co-workers while on vacation didn’t make me a better person. If I could reset my career, there are two major things I would change: first, I’d do more research on my potential employers, and second, I’d leave the job as soon as it became intolerable. The only thing I gained by staying was stomach issues and prolonged resentment. And co-workers who judged, shunned, or betrayed you? Let it/them go.

    Older man measuring a tree with a portrait and journal tied to its trunk

    If you’re thinking, “Why is everything one big joke with him?” Well, for me, it is. Half of what I’m thinking is bullshit and the other half is my shit. It’s my coping mechanism to keep it in perspective. Do what works for you.

    State-of-Mind

    It’s taken me weeks to state this with confidence: I’m in a good place. I am still grieving over Paco, but now my thoughts are mostly pleasant memories of him doing the things he loved most. I’m back to traveling and making good choices. A clear head is a welcome state indeed.

    I go back and forth with regards to my beliefs about people in my life reading my posts. I want so badly to say it doesn’t matter. I guess, in part, because I believe it shouldn’t matter. But then I consider how I am toward people in my life I care about (very dangerous thoughts) and it leads me to believe that people that have the capacity to support you, should support you. I add the “capacity” caveat because I believe there are times in our lives when we deserve a pass from everyone. If you’ve lost someone in your life and you’re grieving, if you’re very ill, if you just lost your job, if you’re in the middle of a massive move, and other stressful or traumatic experiences, then in my mind (and heart), you deserve a pass. Writing is my passion, self-expression, my way of sharing my beliefs and feelings. If you say you love me or care about me, show me. The people I’m speaking to are not reading this and that my friends, is one of the riddles of life.

     “We rise by lifting others.” – Robert Ingersoll

  • When Wanderlust Starts to Fade

    Wanderlust (often misspelled as wunderlust) is a strong, deep-rooted desire to travel, roam, and explore the world.

    If you know me, you know that I spend way too much time analyzing my thoughts and how others react to me. Why am I anxious about this, why did she say that, should I speak to him about it? Overthink much? Sixty-seven years of manic thinking is exhausting and unnecessary, but it’s my reality. Lately, the subject of travel has occupied way too much of the space between my ears.

    I’m sure many of you have experienced the following:

    Airport and Airplane Angst

    The business of arriving hours before a flight, sitting idle at the gate or spending way too much money for a cocktail, makes me crazy. I’ve actually done all that, was first on line for boarding and then refused boarding because there was an airplane change and the entire row of “C” seats no longer existed. It cost me over 1,200 euros to get home that day and I was not reimbursed a single penny. Now if that doesn’t make you want to stay at home, I’m not sure what would.

    I don’t mean to be overly dramatic, however, it feels like every time I fly, I shave years off of my life. The baby crying for eight hours as we cross the Atlantic, the guy who smells like he dumped a bottle of cologne over his head at Duty Free, the woman sitting by the window who has to pee every 30 minutes, and the drinks cart that’s been slammed into my left shin three times on a single flight. One more thing before I leave this topic:  whenever they announce quarterly profits for the major airlines, I lose my cool. These days you buy your ticket and then they nickel and dime you for everything from water to a seat on the airplane; then you learn they added billions to their coffers. Aren’t we all so pleased for them?

    Hotel Room Regret

    Have you ever checked into a hotel room and discovered the shower stall was designed for small children? You book the room on a site with photos of the rooms, listing different categories. You make sure you’ll have a decent size shower and what you get is a miniscule stall or a bathtub. You know asking for another room is out of the question, so you squeeze into the stall and proceed to wash only the upper half of your body because your arms can’t go further than your waistline. My favorite is when they have a sink big enough for a pig bath and a teeny tiny shower. Sometimes, this is the smallest of your grievances.

    In Europe, you can count on two twin (or smaller) beds that are pushed together. God forbid you move in the middle of the night, you could end up on the floor or hanging on to the edge for dear life. Even better, when the bed is so soft you cannot move left or right or worse, when the sheets actually scratch your skin. I once had a hotel clerk tell me that it’s been proven that polyester is better for a good night’s sleep. I rest my case.

    Travel Scams

    Scams of all kinds exist everywhere. This is unfortunately a by-product of the digital world we live in. The problem with scams in another country is that you are unaware of their existence. For example ATM machine scams. There are multiple ways you can be cheated at the ATM machine, causing you angst whenever you dare to use one and of course, it would be difficult not to use one when you travel.

    There are also credit card and debit card scams and that too is something to watch out for. And nowadays, nobody takes cash. You can’t use your credit card and you’re shit out of luck.

    I’ve heard of people renting rooms or apartments online using various booking sites, only to arrive and learn that the booking was an on-line scam. You’re standing there with three suitcases and the apartment doesn’t exist. It’s really important to use a reliable booking site.

    Unfortunately, the number of bad actors out there is only growing. Taking precautions and being hyper vigilant, are your only comforts.

    Illness Abroad

    I’m sure people ask themselves why they had to break their leg in Croatia or why Bronchitis welcomes you to Thailand? It seems inevitable that you will end up with some debilitating illness at some point in your travels. I remember missing a bus because of food poisoning in London. It’s a horrible feeling, elevated by your distance from home. How many trips have you had to cancel because you were either ill or a future illness was a strong possibility?

    Irrational Fears Realized

    You’ll know these fears: losing your passport, missing your flight, stranded with no battery life and no cash, no hotel rooms available after a flights been cancelled, a big fight with your travel partner in a foreign country, having your pet placed in quarantine at the airport, the wheel breaking on your bag as you walk the last mile to the airport; the list of possibilities is endless. How do you prepare? How do you respond? Will it prevent you from booking a flight? Will it kill you?

    Joyful Moments and Memories

    There have been moments while traveling when I thought that what I was experiencing was the height of visual stimulation. There are too many to name them. Or a meal that was transformative. I guess as I am typing these thoughts, I have found my answer: Yes, it is worth all of the aforementioned pain and suffering. Perhaps it is all of that angst that led me to that feeling of elation and awe when I’ve traveled. In summary, I guess I will travel until I can no longer travel, but perhaps, staying closer to home most of the time is the best plan.

    Map, compass, journals, and vintage postcards arranged on a wooden table

    “Travel is still the most intense mode of learning.” — Kevin Kelly

    State-of-Mind

    Loss is so fucking hard. It’s probably the loneliest form of suffering. Still, there is a reason they say, “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I’m not even going to bother looking up who this pearl of wisdom came from. What does “stronger” mean?

    Am I stronger? It’s difficult to say. One thing is for certain and that is that I can survive grief. I have lost both my parents, several siblings, close friends, and beloved pets and here I am. They are all a big part of my conscious thinking; my sense of self. They guide me and protect me. So in all of these ways, I guess I am stronger; certainly blessed with incredible memories.

    I have been working on letting go for over 30 years. One has to believe change is possible even when it feels like you’re climbing Mt. Everest and the peak never seems any closer. I’ve decided that I’m not giving up.

    “Reminds me of my safari in Africa. Somebody forgot the corkscrew and for several days we had to live on nothing but food and water.”

    — W.C. Fields

    “It’s better to look back on life and say, ‘I can’t believe I did that,’ than to look back and say, ‘I wish I did that.’”

    — Unknown

  • Prepared or Overplanning?

    Those of you who know me will just read this with a knowing smile. Hopefully this blog will help you understand the decisions I make. If you don’t know me, you may read my content and relate to how my brain works or you may think me mad. I often have to remind myself that we are all wired differently. I have a neighbor who is 97 years old and in the hospital in Faro for the second time in a few weeks. I’m fairly certain he will not make it out. I’ve known this man since arriving in Portugal and I have observed him with fascination and awe. He lived in a house nearby until a few years ago; I spent time with him in his former residence; wine, a few meals, some laughter. His father was one of the individuals responsible for building the building I live in. Apparently he wanted to build a home on the building’s corner lot and the city would only allow a high rise. So he built a large seven story structure in the 60’s that is now part of the city’s historical register; the building garnering multiple architectural awards. I feel fortunate to reside in this building. He and his partner decided to move into an apartment he had been leasing to someone else. On the day he moved in, I went out onto my terrace and I observed him helping the movers carry boxes and other belongings into the building. I couldn’t help but be blown away by this. A few days later, I got off the elevator and I found him on the lobby floor filling a small hole in the marble. The man was 93 years old. That level of care for the common area where we reside got me thinking about my own intentions and what I am most passionate about.

    I know that every human is different: how we see the world, how we navigate life, and how we think about ourselves in relation to the rest of society. I know that nature and nurture play a major role in our orientation to the world. When I look at this man, I see someone who is 100% invested in every aspect of life. When he is not in hospital, he conducts experiments, he enjoys eating, doing so slowly and with delight, he shops, he listens to music, etc. This is how he was only months ago, I can only imagine what he was like as a young man. When his light is extinguished, we will have lost a rare human indeed. Back to how this relates to me.

    In some ways I am young — well compared to him I am. Still, when I think about my life, I consider this my final chapter. I have no idea why I am this way. I have mentioned in an earlier blog post that I purchased a term life policy when I was ten years old. I paid the premiums with my allowance. To be fair, because of my age it was only a dollar a month, but looking back, I think it was a bit premature to have such a policy. I didn’t want to leave my mother with debt. Lulu just laughed at me hoping it was just a phase; it wasn’t.

    I continue to plan way too early. When I was 12 years old I flossed so that I’d still have my own teeth later in life (was repulsed by my father’s false teeth sitting in a glass in our shared bathroom). I had a bank savings account when I was 13. Trust me it only had a few dollars in it. The bank used to give you a little book, the teller made handwritten entries when you made a deposit or withdrawal. I mostly saved for Christmas gifts. I started paying rent on an apartment when I was 17 years old; I didn’t like giving my money to a landlord, so I saved for my own place. I knew in high school that I wanted a Ph.D. I didn’t really understand what it was, but I knew that if I was to get one, it would mean something . . . and it does.

    There are many other examples of this kind of compulsive behavior; perpetually trying to get ahead of what might come my way. The operative word there is “might.” It’s pretty obvious that a life insurance policy at 10 years old was not practical, I should have been buying toys or candy. The big question is: Is it helpful or hurtful to look so far into the future and anticipate one’s needs? I imagine the answer is that it is both.

    For example, being determined to earn a higher degree was very positive. I didn’t really have the acumen for a Ph.D., trust me it’s true. What I had was grit and determination and that’s what got me through it. Had I not thought seriously about it early on, I would never have gotten the grades needed to be accepted into NYU’s doctoral program. I kept my head in the books when everyone I knew was dancing the night away. Do I have regrets? Yes, in truth I think my desire to succeed academically meant that I pushed too many things to the side. I normally don’t like to play the coulda, shoulda, woulda game, but since I’m writing about it . . . I feel like I missed out on a lot of fun as a young person (excluding sports which I didn’t like because I was uncoordinated and bullied).

    Hanging out with friends, sleepovers, weekend trips, concerts, and all of the other things young people did back then were not a part of my world, because I was too serious. I’m not sure what came first: being an introvert and, therefore, avoiding group interaction or spending so much time studying, I became a loner. I’m not sure it truly matters. I’ve come to accept who I am, the good, the bad, the insane.

    The danger is that I will look into the future and decide that the obvious next stage of my life is to stay in, read, watch streamed films or series, eat, drink, rinse and repeat. I’ve already trimmed my travel schedule because getting on an airplane has become such an unpleasant and unpredictable experience. I’ve decided to mostly stick with brief, local experiences. The States is the furthest away I will travel and I will only travel there in order to see the people I love.

    I’m fortunate to have friends who put up with my excessive planning. I’m sure that some will humor me and go along with plans for a trip over a year out. I’m certain others talk about how anal retentive I am behind my back. No matter, as they say, “It is what it is.”

    The question is, will I plan for my own death? I’m pretty certain I will (probably because I already am). I am too much of a control freak to allow someone else to decide on the details.

    Things I do to prepare:

    • my bedroom for sleep in the early afternoon (shades, pull back duvet, lighting)
    • several meals days in advance. I love the anticipation
    • I start to pack about 10 days before a trip
    • If I know I’m about to have a difficult conversation with a professional (i.e., attorney, doctor), I take notes prior to our meeting
    • I started taking supplements for middle and old age when I was in my early twenties
    • I’m usually the first to RSVP
    • I’m usually waiting for people at a restaurant or meeting place
    • I did a living will in my 30s
    • I look at the weather 10 days ahead (as you know, it often changes)
    • I used to lay out my outfit the night before. I stopped doing this because I don’t care about what I’m wearing anymore.
    • I save addresses in Google Maps long before a trip.
    • I replace things in my pantry and cleaning supplies closet long before I run out. When I die, someone will inherit paper towels for a lifetime and enough tuna to feed Japan.
    • I used to remove my guest’s plates from the table while others were eating. I’ve since relaxed a bit.
    • 90% of the time I tell my guests it’s time to leave. I usually use walking Paco as the reason, but most people are smarter than that.
    • There are things that I’m too embarrassed to include here.

    State-of-Mind

    Paco update:

    For those of you following Paco’s health issues, I thought I’d let you know how he’s doing. His prognosis is extremely involved and precarious, so I’m not going to say much. A bacterial infection in his outer ear spread to other places. His treatment began in early March 2025 and it’s been a physical roller coaster ever since, causing the two of us a good deal of grief — Paco pain and discomfort and me, doubts about medical procedures and of course, concern for his future. He’s been on eight different medications, four antibiotics administered three different ways, steroids, painkillers, dietary supplements, and he’s had three surgeries in the last two months. He had a procedure on Friday that may or may not have helped; I won’t know for a week or two. In the meantime, I’m giving him daily injections of his forth antibiotic and local antibiotics (this treatment being our last hope). I’ve never been through anything quite like this; it has taught me patience and more about bacterial infections than I care to know. This particular bacteria is known to resist most if not all antibiotics. I wish I could say more about it. I appreciate those around me who have provided support and comfort.

    Further update (since I started this blog): his vet says she sees signs that Paco is finally responding to the treatment, but I hear congestion in his lungs and it worries me.

    I’m taking a quick trip to the Loire Valley in southwest France to clear my head a bit. Stepping back has always been good for me. I think when you’re in the thick of something for an extended period of time, you sometimes lose perspective.

    I will go back to short stories very soon. I just needed a little break.

    “You have power over your mind – not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.” — Marcus Aurelius 

  • Understanding Immigrant vs. Expat: Perspectives on Relocation

    A brief diversion from my short story posts

    I’m using the word “immigrant” throughout this piece, versus expat, because many believe that individuals who have relocated to a foreign country use that word as if expats are superior in some way to immigrants. It’s all about perception and marketing.
    expat noun

    1. a person who lives outside their native country.

    immigrant noun

    1. a person who comes to live permanently in a foreign country.

    I think the angry sentiment has a lot more to do with how immigrants are being perceived and treated throughout the world. Let us not forget that many individuals fleeing their home country have very little choice but to leave. People like me leave the United States for many reasons, however, they are not leaving due to ethnic cleansing, bombs being dropped on their homes, the inability to feed their children or themselves, religious persecution, and other unfortunate possibilities. To be void of compassion for these people is horrific. The absence of empathy in our time is astonishing.

    I’m writing this piece for two reasons: first, people often say to me, “You are so fortunate not to be living here right now,” or second, “If things were different, would you come back?” I want to respond to both candidly. At first I thought I’d be setting myself up for ridicule and judgment, but in the end, I don’t really give a shit what people think of my responses/explanation. This is my platform for self-expression and I will continue to share what’s on my mind. That’s not to say I don’t care about what people think; I do. But if I’m being honest about what is in my heart and I am judged for it, that lands in the “that’s your opinion box,” In the end, it’s a whole lot healthier to refrain from listening to people who might be righteous, jealous, or brainwashed. When you lay down your head at night and you think about your actions, there truly is one person you answer to. If you’re religious, you might answer to god. As a non-believer, I answer to myself.

    Why Did I Leave?

    As with many things in life, it’s a multi-faceted, complicated, explanation.

    First and foremost, after years of travel and discovery, it was always my intention to experience a new place that is vastly different: including language, culture, cuisine, art, music, landscape, etc. I never felt tied to one place, ever. Whenever I was living in a place and I began to feel that it might no longer be a good fit, I would move on. Why that feeling might happen is also complicated. I would have to say much of it is on me: restlessness, resentful of the behavior of people around me, financial strain, career choices — all have had an impact on my past decisions and may affect future decisions.

    I loved Brooklyn, however, a work situation became untenable, therefore I quit the job. I relocated to Maine knowing that in order to remain in Brooklyn, I would need a high salary position which would only lead to more stress and health issues. I started a consulting business in Maine which took-off after three years. I was enjoying new friendships and the liberal attitudes in Portland, but when Donald Trump was running for president the first time (2016), I vowed to leave the country if he won. I was naive and jaded due to the places I had recently lived and the people I surrounded myself with. When Trump won, I immediately began the process of leaving the U.S. I would have moved to Europe eventually; therefore, in my mind I was just speeding things up a bit.

    Why Portugal

    At the time of my decision, Portugal was quickly becoming the number one place for individuals seeking a better life in a foreign country. There were tax and other incentives, further, acquiring a visa was not as difficult a process as it has become. Portugal is in a much stronger place economically and its citizens have had enough with the influx of people who buy up properties at a premium and receive tax breaks. I definitely can understand their resentment. On the other hand, immigrants have helped Portugal become more economically independent. In addition, vast infrastructure and aesthetic improvements have been made. Many Portuguese people would argue that these improvements have come at too high a cost; in fact, some believe that the overall quality of life has not improved, but has worsened. That’s a debate for people who know more about these things. I like to think that I add value to the overall quality of life.

    I chose Portugal because of its close proximity to the U.S., its beautiful culture (music, cuisine, landscape, history), and its warm and gracious people. I’ve never looked back. In my heart I believe it was the best decision of my life . . . after coming out of the closet.

    How I am Treated

    The Portuguese people who are curious about my decision, often ask me the same question: Why did Americans put Trump in Office? He’s not very well liked by most citizens of Portugal and they don’t feel that they get honest answers from the media or Portuguese Politicians. Portugal has a long standing friendship with the United States; politically, poking the bear is not an option. When people find out I’m from New York, they are confused about why I would live in a place like Faro. Most are thrilled that I love their small city. For many in Portugal, New York City is a dream (just based on feedback I receive, not verified data).

    Many Americans no longer agree with what the Lady in the Harbor stands for.

    How I Feel About Being An Immigrant

    I know it’s not practical and could never be the case, but still, I believe everyone should be allowed to live anywhere. Criminals, individuals who’d rather live off of others, and people who enjoy making others miserable, should have their privilege revoked. Who decides all that is one of the reasons it probably wouldn’t work.

    I moved to Portugal because I have the means to do it. My roots in the United States are not deep. Friends and family can travel; also I do reluctantly go back every now and then. I know that there are people in the U.S. who firmly believe that I have abandoned my country and there are people in Portugal who believe I don’t belong here. As a gay man, I have always felt like an outsider, making dealing with these types of people easier. If you don’t like me or you don’t appreciate what I stand for, kindly go back into your own lane. I have developed some beautiful friendships with people here, but in truth, I will never really know what non-friends think of me.

    I enjoy going to the market and attempting to speak Portuguese to the vendors. They correct me and laugh with me and I love that. I get very excited when I’m driving in a roundabout and I realize I’m in the correct lane (it’s an art form). I love discovering new dishes I have not tried before. Believe it or not, sometimes I take an eight minute, nine euro Bolt to Faro airport one hour before an international flight — only if it’s a 6:00 a.m. flight (first flight of the day). I breeze through security and I’m at the gate in 15 minutes. I love when there’s live Portuguese music at the outdoor local market on a blue sky day. Fortunately, the Algarve averages 300 days of sunshine a year. I laugh when Algarvians talk about rush hour traffic. “It took 20 minutes to get home instead of the 10 minutes it takes on a Saturday.” And imagine how awful it is to have to circle your block once or twice to have to find free parking near your apartment. One of my favorite things is paying seven euros to see a film and not having to wait in line at the cinema (and popcorn is five euros, not ten). I know it’s directly correlated to salaries and the Portuguese economy, but I don’t mind the benefits. There are so many upsides to being an immigrant in Portugal, I can’t possibly name them all. I recently learned that Portuguese people hate when anyone says Portugal is cheap and I can’t say I blame them. It’s all relative.

    I’m not rubbing your nose in it. I’m sharing these things because people are often curious. It’s human nature to want to know. Except for some individuals who can spend three hours sitting next to you at a dinner party and not ask you a single question about yourself. There are a few people from the States here who are like that. Unfortunately, they are too self-involved to see it. I’m not bitter, no.

    Sure there are some negatives: Americans who will only interact and be friends with other Americans, people who relocate to Portugal and never attempt to learn Portuguese. “Why should I learn Portuguese when the Portuguese prefer to speak English?” That one really gets my goat. Or “I don’t understand why they don’t carry Tylenol here.” So many of these kinds of comments. The Portuguese (generalization, my apologies) are very private people. They enjoy their families, they drive fast, they’re often too proud to admit they might be wrong, but they will run to your aid in a quick minute, they will greet you with a smile, and they will not judge you based on your socio-economic status. Healthcare is excellent and reasonable, car insurance is reasonable, and milk and eggs are reasonable. Sorry, I couldn’t help but throw in some more positives and I didn’t say cheap.

    You know you’re in the right place when you have no desire to live somewhere else. I came to Faro with the knowledge that I could always go back to the U.S., that I could move to a different European country if I wanted to, or I could move to a different place close to where I live now. For the first time in a very long time, I am content to stay right where I am. I know that if I’m dissatisfied with something I can speak up. But more often I think, I am a guest in a country that has welcomed me in, it is better to behave like a guest and graciously accept some of the very minor inconveniences. I hope that answers your questions. If not, drop me a line.

    Eight years in Faro.

    The beautiful view from my terrace. The Ria Formosa with the Atlantic Ocean beyond it.

    Current State-of Mind

    My sister passed this week. I have now lost five out of 10 siblings: three half and two from the same two parents. I never felt that it made a difference, half or whole. When you share your life and love from the very beginning, it’s the same. I want to honor AnnMarie by acknowledging the sacrifices she made for me, my brother and sisters, her partners and her children. She was strong but insecure, intelligent but unbending, and she was full of joy much of her life; her laugh was contagious and I loved her for it. I hope her four daughters and six grandchildren find peace in her passing.

    I would like to have a break from the reminder that life is temporary and that we are not guaranteed another moment, let alone another day.

    Paco had surgery to address a serious and sometimes deadly bacteria; he is fighting hard, but I fear he is not improving. I’ll write more when he is out of the woods.

    Walking away from toxicity and deliberate hurtfulness, has been a difficult challenge. Until about six months ago, I didn’t feel that I was making very much progress. I’m comfortable reporting that I am taking care of myself these days. And hey, on the flip side, for those not giving up on me, thank you. I’m no piece of cake.

    “Loving life is easy when you are abroad. Where no one knows you and you hold life in your hands all alone, you are more master of yourself than at any other time.” – Hannah Arendt

  • Coping with Politics: Finding Peace Amid Chaos

    Keep in mind: my thoughts, not gospel, not all based on fact, and not meant to persuade or dissuade. Merely suggestions for getting through the muck & mire.

    First and foremost, no matter how bad it gets — and it will get worse, I cannot allow what is happening in the United States or the world, to drag me down. I honestly believe Trump and his sycophants are attempting to distract, exhaust, confuse, and lead us to helplessness. To the point where many will just give up or even worse give in.

    Next, I realize as a childless, older adult living abroad, American politics has less impact on my life, then it does for others. Having said this, I would also add that the influence of American Politics is felt throughout the free world. Further, any discrimination, stripping of basic human rights, corruption, and/or abuse of power, directly impacts my life.

    Some ways that I have learned to cope (in no particular order):

    • By filtering all that I read, see, and hear. There is currently a lot of noise, news, and opinions about the Trump era. Some of it is of course factual and has grave consequences. To be well informed, one must be certain to sort out what is hearsay or false. I feel empowered by standing with those that know what they are talking about.
    • I cannot control those members of my family that have decided to stand by and support this administration. I can, however, distance myself from them and/or insist that they not try to persuade me to join them.
    • When you are in pain or discomfort, the best thing you can do is find a healthy way to soothe the pain. Go to the gym, immerse yourself in your hobbies, watch mindless films, have a glass of good wine, a well-made cocktail, or a cold beer, read, go for a hike or walk alone or with a friend.
    • Keep a journal. Clear out your mind on paper; it helps keep things in perspective without sweeping your thoughts under the carpet or worse, denying they exist.
    • Speak your truth when questioned. Hiding your thoughts or your truth, can ruin a relationship and make you feel guilty or angry with yourself.
    • Always keep in mind that this too shall pass. There have been times in history when adversity led to more progressive change.
    • Get away. Nothing is better for clearing my head than a change of scenery.
    • Make a worst case scenario plan. Always better to be prepared.
    • Be a bit frugal, just in case you need funds in the future.
    • Pick your battles. You cannot take everyone and everything on. Write to your congressmen and senators, vote in every election, and campaign if you can — even if it’s on a grass roots level.
    • Celebrate the small victories.
    • Cook and/or eat comforting food.
    • Spend time with a friend or loved one that is like-minded and supports one another. Try to avoid a negative rabbit hole.
    • Having taken advantage of therapy for much of my life, I am a strong advocate of finding a professional you can trust and talk to. A psychiatrist may be more appropriate; especially if medication is to be prescribed. Medication can be a lifeline for those suffering from depression or mental illness. No shame in self-care.
    • Meditation is a very effective tool. I find sitting in a quiet space and concentrating on my breathing, works well for keeping outside influences in perspective.
    • I discovered gratitude not too long ago. Taking stock of all of the people you love who love you in return, and the gifts provided by the universe, is an excellent reminder of how good it is to be alive. And then there are pets to bring you joy.
    • Lastly, getting rid of toxic individuals in your life is essential for good mental health. People in your life who are broken, may attempt to bring you down with them — don’t allow it. If necessary and when necessary, walk away.

    Whatever works for you, is the way to manage the chaos and strife; so long as you have tools.

    What we have is worth fighting for

    Oh How these words spoke to me

    “We shall not cease from exploration
    And the end of all our exploring
    Will be to arrive where we started
    And know the place for the first time.”

    T.S. Elliot

    I’m worried about a few people in my life that are feeling defeated and suffering from intense melancholy. I hope that they come to realize that there are ways to rise above the negativity. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not enough.

    I’ve been enjoying listening to Mel Robbins on her podcast. The Let Them Theory makes a great deal of sense. https://www.melrobbins.com/podcasts/episode-70

  • From Spin Class to Suspicion: A Cautionary Tale

    Peg sat at her kitchen table pondering how she was going to get to work. Her car died in the driveway the night before and her bank account was pretty much depleted. She’s had a rough time of it lately; she’s had a rough time of it her entire life. Born in Detroit, immigrant parents from Slovenia, nothing had ever come easy. Except that she is smart; she’s smart and she’s resourceful. And despite the dead car and her financial situation, things were looking up.

    About a year ago, when Peg was cleaning up after a spin class, she was approached by someone who had been with her in class.

    “Hi, I’m Sheila. I think we both take the same spin class on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

    “Hi, I’m Peg.”

    “Tough class today, huh?”

    “Yeah, I’m pretty beat.”

    “Would you be interested in getting coffee after class sometime?”

    Peg was tentative; she told Sheila that it would be nice, but she usually had to run to work after class. The two agreed to try to work it out.

    Weeks went by, Sheila would wave to Peg in class, but neither woman would ask the other for coffee. On a beautiful spring day in April, Peg decided to go into work a bit later than usual. After spin, she walked over to Sheila to see if a walk over to the coffee shop might be possible. Sheila seemed delighted and ten minutes later they were sitting across from one another at Cuppa Joe’s.

    Peg was curious to learn more about her new acquaintance. Sheila seemed so sure of herself and not at all vain. Peg also wondered why Sheila had approached her in the first place. She was suspicious of anyone who seemed to want anything to do with her. But Sheila was different, genuinely sweet and engaging.

    Sheila asked Peg where she worked, if she was married and whether or not she had children. There seemed to be no judgment, only a desire to learn more about her new acquaintance. Peg held back. She was afraid to scare Sheila away.

    Sheila wouldn’t have been scared away. She looked for people like Peg and preyed on them. It would start with coffee. She played a mean game of finding unsuspecting women at their lowest and bringing them down further still. Each successful takedown, empowered Sheila more. Prior to meeting Peg, she has destroyed the lives of over ten women. Perhaps Peg would be her next victim.

    After several weeks of coffee dates and pleasant walks, Sheila asked Peg if she’d like to come over Saturday for dinner and a sleepover. Peg had never been asked to share this sort of intimate evening before. She hesitated accepting Sheila’s invitation, knowing she’d never be able to reciprocate. Before she could even respond, Sheila said:

    “Listen Peg, I know you hardly know me, but you don’t have to worry, I’m not expecting that you’ll have me over to your place. I have a guest bedroom with an ensuite and I love having people over. It will give us a chance to really get to know one another and share some silly girl time.”

    Peg happily agreed to Sheila’s invite. She said she’d be responsible for the cocktails, having tended bar out of high school. Sheila seemed delighted.

    Sheila’s home was absolutely gorgeous. Everything was in its place and the decor was tasteful. Peg was shy at first, hesitant to look around and barely touched the appetizers Sheila put out. She liked her own cocktails and Sheila seemed to enjoy them as well — Sheila sure did knock them back.

    As the evening progressed, they ate less and talked more; well it was mostly Peg who talked. Sheila asked a lot of questions, complimented Peg a lot, and listened. Peg had never had a friend care so much about how she felt and what she thought. She believed she had hit the jackpot. They finally went to bed at 3:00 a.m. Sheila got up early, letting Peg sleep until noon. Peg felt terribly guilty and made an excuse about having an appointment.

    The two texted one another that night and the following day. Peg didn’t want to be pushy, but she was anxious to make future plans. Sheila sensed Peg’s excitement, making sure to fill Peg’s dance card for the next two weeks. After five or six ladies outings, Peg started to question Sheila’s character. She rarely spoke about herself and after all that time, Peg knew little to nothing about her. Being mysterious is one thing, but Sheila was almost certainly hiding something.

    The second sleepover was scheduled for Saturday, three weeks after the first sleepover. Sheila was as excited as the first time and requested Peg’s bartending magic be repeated. The two were about an hour in and Sheila realized she had no coffee beans for the morning. Peg told her not to worry, but she insisted that she could be at the grocer and back in 10 minutes. She asked Peg to watch a bit of television, promising to return quickly.

    Peg sat on the sofa for a bit, thinking about the house and how stunningly beautiful it was. She also realized that she had never seen Sheila’s bedroom. She decided it wouldn’t hurt to venture upstairs for a peek. She opened Sheila’s bedroom door and her jaw dropped. She had never seen a more beautiful bedroom, wondering why Sheila had not shown it off. She walked around the room admiring all of Sheila’s beautiful things. Out of the corner of eye she spotted a vanity in an adjacent dressing room. She had always dreamed of having her very own vanity. She walked over to glance at Sheila’s jewelry and cosmetics, noticing many labeled glass vials. She picked one up to examine it. It was a stick on label with a female name. She didn’t recognize it as a perfume; in fact she had no idea what the vial contained — it was clear and odorless. It bottle read, The Essence of Susan. She picked up another, The Essence of Lisa, and there were a dozen others like this. Peg found herself confused and frightened by this discovery. She went back downstairs and waited for Sheila to return.

    As she waited, Peg realized that she needed to somehow find out who the names on the vials represented. Were they friends of Sheila? Did Sheila formerly work for a perfume company? Where did these bottles come from? She sensed something was off, but she couldn’t quite shake her worry. She decided to stop drinking that evening without letting on to Sheila. She would discreetly pour out the contents of her glass in the bathroom sink. She needed to be fully alert for the rest of the evening.

    Sheila returned with coffee beans and some other things she said she needed. She didn’t waste any time asking Peg to make some cocktails. She even said,

    “We are going to get drunk tonight.”

    Peg just laughed and started their drinks, making sure to put very little vodka in her own glass. Sheila prepared dinner, providing Peg with an opportunity to ask her some probing questions. Sheila was evasive and guarded. She danced around responses about friends, past boyfriends, and family. Peg acted as though it didn’t matter. She even started slurring a bit to throw Sheila off. Sheila did eventually let down her guard just enough to reveal a bit of her past.

    Sheila accidently mentioned two friends that she said she no longer spends time with. Peg had an idea where she might find them. She behaved as if she was about to pass out and told Sheila she was going to bed. Later, she sensed Sheila was in the bedroom, but Sheila stayed far from the bed. She spent about ten minutes in the ensuite. Peg was now certain something was not right and she needed answers.

    Peg spent the next few days tracking down Sheila’s friends. She asked around at Cuppa Joe’s and learned that two of Sheila’s friends used to go to the coffee shop after spin class. She spoke to their spin instructor and found out where at least one of the two women lived. She decided she’d pay Leila a visit that week.

    Leila answered her door. She was obviously very weak and out of sorts. Peg asked her if she could come inside and speak to her about Sheila. Leila said that she didn’t really see Sheila anymore, but she was happy to speak to Peg. They sat down in Leila’s living room. Peg was struck by how this young woman looked older than her years. It was also clear that Leila was once very beautiful. Leila described how she had become friends with Sheila and how little she knew about her. She said she’d slept over Sheila’s a few times and that they’d had a great time. Leila said that she recently became very ill, unfortunately unable to work or see people. Peg asked her if she knew of any other friends in Sheila’s life. Leila told her she had once met Angela who lived across from Cuppa Joe’s. She gave Peg a description of Angela and the two said their goodbyes.

    Peg went to the coffee shop the next day, sitting and watching the building across the street. Finally, after a couple of hours of hoping to spot Angela, she left her building and walked across the street toward the coffee shop. She didn’t seem to be stopping there, so Peg had to leave the shop and chase her down. Angela was not as cooperative as Leila had been. She was in a big hurry and appeared extremely disoriented. The only thing she would say is that she had not seen or heard from Sheila in a long time. Peg asked her if Sheila had ever done anything to hurt her, Angela replied:

    “Not to my knowledge, but I haven’t been the same since meeting her.”

    Peg was convinced that Sheila had done something terrible to these women. She suspected that Sheila may have copied her keys the night she went out for coffee beans. She decided to have a conversation with Sheila about having to leave town for a few days. Then she sat in her apartment, waiting to see if Sheila might show up.

    The next morning, Peg was in her kitchen and she heard someone keying into the apartment. She quickly hid in the pantry and called the police to let them know someone was breaking in. Sheila had only been in the apartment a few minutes when the police arrived. The police arrested, handcuffed, and took Sheila to the police station. Peg provided a statement and assured the police that she would be pressing charges.

    The following week, a detective contacted Peg to let her know that they had done a search of Sheila’s apartment and discovered the personal effects of over a dozen women. They found hairbrushes, tooth brushes, underwear and other items. It appeared that Sheila had been collecting the DNA of these women and creating some sort of liquid potion from each woman’s DNA. The police had never seen anything like it. They assured Peg that they would further investigate what Sheila was up to. They found no evidence of a vial made from Peg’s essence.

    Sheila was eventually charged with breaking and entering several homes. She was convicted and pleaded guilty to all charges. Sheila refused to explain what she was doing with the DNA. She would serve several years for her crimes.

    Peg could only speculate about Sheila’s motives and intentions. She found strength in knowing she had stopped Sheila for at least a few years. She and a few of the other women involved formed a support group. She watched them slowly regain their strength and confidence and eventually their essence.

    Sheila posing for Instagram

    Storyline Thoughts

    I may or may not have been thinking about The Substance and Demi Moore when writing this piece. It is more likely that I ponder and think about society’s obsession with physical beauty — not just women by the way, men as well. This obsession with beauty haunts me. When I lived on the Upper East Side in New York City 25 years ago, I witnessed the wreckage of cosmetic surgery, now I’m afraid it has spread to the rest of the world.

    I realize when I write these short stories character development is an issue. I wish I could say I was more committed to going on to write a novella or novel. For now, I’m just having fun indulging my warped imagination. I appreciate those of you who have stayed with me. Who knows what the future brings.

    By the way, this time I used the title AI suggested. The photo is not AI.

    The horrific airplane/helicopter crash this week and T’s attempt to blame DEI and the previous administration, the bogus cabinet confirmation hearings, the numerous executive orders designed to remove necessary programs, and the execution of Project 2025; I’m truly at a loss. The worst is knowing I have family who fully support the dangerous reality unfolding daily. To call these trying times is an understatement. I can’t help wondering just how bad it will get before Americans wake up. I know that I’m not overreacting.

    Pornic, France in a few days. I know a change of scenery will do me some good. Not to mention the French food & wine.

  • Shifting Priorities

    What Matters Most

    Images taken on recent cruise from London to Iceland. Stopping in Scotland and Norway along the way.

    What Once Mattered

    We can all relate to warped or misplaced priorities. When you’re 20 years old you care more about your outfit or where you’re going on Saturday night, than your bank account. When you are thirty, it’s your fading good looks that keep you up at night (and perhaps cocaine if that was your drug of choice — no judgment), in your forties it might be a mortgage payment that is larger than you can manage, aches and pains in your fifties and so on and so forth.

    I look back at the things that concerned me in the past and I wonder why nobody told me that it wouldn’t make an iota of a difference when I reached a certain age. Some of these things include, but are not limited to: brands & labels, Michelin star ratings, my attendance at parties, the cost of a gift I received, and how late I stay up Saturday night.

    Why it Shouldn’t Matter

    Perhaps it shouldn’t matter, but for reasons I cannot control or change, it does. For example, caring about what other people think. This has been on my goal list for years. In fact, I continue to care. How many likes I get when I post something on Facebook shouldn’t matter; in fact, it doesn’t. But who does or doesn’t like a post, does matter. When I exit a plane matters, I want to be up front so that I transfer quickly or get to passport control earlier than later.

    I find myself struggling with how I process conversations: what I say, how I say it, what I don’t say. There is a righteous aspect of my personality that can make life difficult, but can I stop it? Probably not, however, I can modify my reaction; I can tone it down. I can almost see the relief on the faces of those who love me most. In truth, I sleep better after keeping my big mouth shut.

    What Does Matter

    Here’s where I get to make a list. A list that is actually longer than it should be. Hmmm, should be, there I go shoulding on myself again. What matters:

    • What you think about my sexuality matters. If you’re disgusted by who I am and what I am, that matters. It took me way too long to be comfortable in my own skin.
    • The people who have shown me that they care about me and want me in their life.
    • The things I choose to spend money on and what things cost.
    • Good people who deserve to be seen.
    • Paco, my dog.
    • What I eat, where I eat, and who I eat with.
    • Where I travel and with whom I travel.
    • My health and happiness.
    • Being awake, alive, and present.
    • What charities I choose and whether or not I choose to make my giving known.
    • How I spend my time.
    • Where I choose to live and how I choose to live.
    • How and when I choose to die with dignity, if and when that choice needs to be made.
    • My bed and the quality of my sleep.
    • Lifelong learning and the desire to know more.
    • My family.

    I can proudly state that I am overall pleased with my list. The process of being discerning and thoughtful, has taken decades. That’s okay by me; I know some who never give it a first or second thought.

    “The only questions that really matter are the ones you ask yourself.“

    Ursula K. Le Guin

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    Future Travel

    Oslo, Norway with Paco for all of July (with visits from friends throughout the month), Krakow, Poland in October, Bristol, UK in December and a much anticipated trip to the Puglia region of Italy in April 2025. Booked a Greece/Turkey/Egypt cruise for fall 2025. The United States in the late fall/early winter of 2025 or 2026: Brooklyn, Florida, Portland, Maine, Baltimore, Maryland, and Charlotte, North Carolina.

    State-of-Mind

    I lost a close friend this week; a second friend over too short a period of time. Angelina was nearly 100 years old and Angela only in her 70s. Losing a close friend changes you in ways that play out in choices not words. What matters now are love and an appreciation for the many gifts I have been given. That pathetic bible thumper, that jealous cousin, that watch you lost in Budapest, that extra twenty pounds: no matter at all.

    “Death is inevitable for all of us. The only thing that really matters in the end is how we choose to live.”

    — Aimee Carter

  • Stay In Your Own Lane

    Or Deal With Me

    Being born in Brooklyn has its advantages; one of them is bravado. Back in the 60s and 70s, we were taught to fend for ourselves. I’m sure it had a great deal to do with the mafia presence in Brooklyn, street gangs, and the nearly 3.5 million people who resided in a relatively small space.

    Growing up closeted may also have a lot to do with my tough exterior. I was only moderately bullied because I put on a good front, but still, my guard was up 24/7. My brothers and sisters were onto me; they let me know that even though they loved me, the sexuality issue could not and would not be overlooked; as if I had a choice. The harder I was beaten down, the more resilient I became.

    I don’t care who you are or who you know, come for me or anyone I love and I will make you wish you hadn’t. It’s not a threat, it’s a fact. Some call it aggressive behavior and others call it self-preservation; I call it peace of mind and I make no apologies for it.

    What happened to me is not unique, take a look around and you’ll notice similar personality types for those who have been marginalized or ignored. Yet another reason to lift people up, as opposed to putting them down.

    A Suit of Armor

    The down side of putting up a massive shield is that it sometimes prevents the good stuff from penetrating. I state this as if I have personal experience; I might. I’m told by others who can be far more objective, that my guard is up and my openness to the possibility of a lifelong partner is non-existent. I don’t argue anymore for two reasons: first, I am happy just as I am and second, they could be right and I’d have to admit that might be the case.

    “You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.” – Bob Marley

    Vulnerability

    If you want to see my softer side, be genuine and sincere. The divisive behavior I am seeing lately has me very concerned. Pick a side or you’re out seems to be the dominant mentality. If something is needling me; rather than pop-off, I am testing my self-control and staying quiet. Knowing that this is not my usual MO, it’s a good exercise for me. It’s a double edge sword; I may feel better mentally, but I am hurting emotionally.

    The Wisdom That Comes With Age

    One of the things that I have learned is that certain people love to stir the pot. If things are calm and quiet, they want to get folks riled-up. We all know who these people are; why do we give them air time?

    What I have learned and what I am still learning:

    • When someone around you feels compelled to gossip about someone you know, shut them down. “I am not interested in hearing this, thank you.” Or you can walk or move away. This does not include sharing concern for another . . . for example if a person in your group is engaging in self-destructive behavior and you may collectively be able to help them — this is concern and compassion, not gossip. Note the word “help.”
    • People seem to thrive on a tribal mentality: “my tribe is superior and if you’re not on my side, you’re on the wrong side.” Respect for others goes a long way. It doesn’t mean you have to take a cruise with this person, but we can hear each other out and agree to disagree.
    • If people in your social circle are talking about others who are also a part of your circle, those same individuals are probably chatting about you when you’re not around. And I don’t mean innocent small talk (e.g., “where is Chris these days? He’s always traveling.”).
    • Your mental and emotional well-being is directly tied to the well-being of your peers. In other words, stay away from crazy. Some individuals are just not worth it.
    • All individuals have prejudices and stereotypes they hold onto. When as a child, it’s drummed into you at home, in the playground, and in the classroom, how can you not hold onto it as truth. We can all either embrace the truth as fact and try to be better or we can further perpetuate falsehoods (e.g., immigrants are ruining our country).
    • Good people who try to educate others are often beaten down in today’s divided world. No matter how strong you are and no matter how resolute in your quest for truth, after a while it starts to get to you and you can become numb or exhausted and give up the fight. We cannot allow this to happen.
    • I do not appreciate pot-stirrers. There are other ways for one to become stimulated. For example, one could dig a hole in their backyard and bury themselves in it.
    • If you can rest your head on your pillow easily at bedtime, you’re probably doing the right thing. In this case I am referring to good people as opposed to the other kind.
    • If you’re an aging man, urinating may become difficult. Note: I’m not sure this belongs on this particular list, but it needs to go somewhere.
    • Lighten up, chill, let it go, it’s not personal — you’ll live a longer, happier life if you take it all less seriously.
    • The bravado part is all wrapped-up in my desire to be perceived as masculine. Sometimes the psychobabble makes sense.

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    Future Travel

    A couple of short local trips to Spain and parts of the Algarve coming up soon; an Iceland cruise by way of Northern Europe in May; Oslo, Norway with Paco for all of July (with visits from friends throughout the month); a much anticipated trip to the Puglia region of Italy in the spring of 2025. The United States sometime in 2025 is likely: Brooklyn, Florida, Portland, Maine, Maryland, and North Carolina. I can now fly direct from Faro to Newark, thanks to a new United route. I booked a Mediterranean cruise for October 2025 — it sails from Tel Aviv, so it’s a bit uncertain. It includes parts of Turkey and Egypt I have not yet explored.

    State-of-Mind

    Spring has come early — it tends to do that in the Algarve. Since spring is my favorite season, I am taking advantage of the warm weather and I’m tending to my terrace garden and spending time at outdoor cafés and restaurants with Paco. Rain is glorious and I’m thrilled that we’ve had quite a bit this week. The primaries in the States are pissing me off, but people who care about me are teaching me to let it go. What troubles me the most is the knowledge that many of these radical right individuals have an agenda they dare not reveal. The repression of marginalized groups and the fear of losing power/control has been a reality since the day mankind started fighting for ownership of (fill in the blank). I’m not sure we will ever collectively agree to share resources and be honest with one another. It makes me very sad.

    Before I sign-off I’d like to thank many of you for your delicious feedback about my blogging . . . I am inspired to keep it up.

    Please forgive typos and grammatical errors; proofreading is the part I detest.

  • This Is More For Me Than It Is For You

    And that’s okay

    Durban, South Africa, a few weeks ago

    I had an epiphany during the first COVID-19 lockdown in 2020. I realized the best way to live my life was to determine what I truly enjoy and celebrate those things as much as possible. This revelation is one of the many positive outcomes of blogging and quiet contemplation. Writing has forced me to express my thoughts and feelings with conviction. Lying to myself (or you) about anything would only take me down a woeful path. Onward and upward we go.

    Because I love making lists and because I think some of what I am going to share will resonate with some of you, I have decided to boldly put it out there (random order):

    • The best time I have spent in my life has been creating a comfortable place to sleep. A firm mattress, soft cream colored cotton sheets, a couple of goose down pillows and a light goose down comforter, matte blue/gray walls, photos and paintings that evoke the best parts of my past, and a toilet only a few steps from my bed. All money well spent.
    • Fresh ground beans used to make that first cup of coffee. Sometimes in an espresso machine, sometimes in a French press, sometimes poured over, but mostly in a drip pot. I want it soon after I wake and I want it with a little whole milk. That watered down, low-fat crap, is not for me.
    • My Paco by my side, especially after he’s had a bath, and especially when he’s sleeping.
    • A good novel, read in a quiet place, makes me very happy.
    • Eating good food is probably my greatest pleasure.
    • A provocative and engaging conversation with someone smart and present is time well spent.
    • Sitting in a beach chair in front of the ocean on a warm, blue sky day, provides enough fuel to last days or weeks. Warm sand between my toes adds to the beach experience; as does a beautiful sunset.
    • The laughter of my toddler nieces and nephews is the elixir of life.
    • A glass or two of a good red wine at dusk is about as good as it gets. Paired with an aged gouda, takes it to another level.
    • Finding a bargain when I least expect it is extremely satisfying.
    • A good game of Texas Holdem’ is hard to beat.
    • The realization that I am enough cannot be overstated.
    • A good friend reigns supreme.
    • I am an unabashed and proud TikToker. Hours of watching humans be human has been a recent guilty pleasure.
    • Sundays where I reside are peaceful and quiet. I have made a practice of staying at home and opening my terrace doors to allow the outside in. The absence of cars and kids makes hearing the wind and the birds easier.
    • A one euro café com lait after a workout is hard to beat.
    • A freshly cleaned apartment puts a huge smile on this worn out face.
    • A productive hour at the gym.
    • A pair of fresh pajamas, a good film, a curled-up Paco, a comfy sofa, on an evening at Twilight is pretty fucking awesome.
    • Solitude
    • A good night’s sleep followed by a pre-dawn, unleashed Paco, walk in the park, is a great way to start the day. When the moon is full, it’s an added bonus.
    • A competitive game of croquet, mah jongg, or poker with my fellow expats, are once-in-a-while, gratifying social activities.
    • Discovery of a part of the world I had yet to explore or the comfort of the familiar I love returning to, are gifts that keep on giving.
    • Good health is not to be discounted or ignored. All of the above are nothing without it.

    You won’t see a luxury yacht, the Maldive beaches, or a $200,000 Lamborghini on my list. It took a lifetime for me to realize that the simplest things provide the most pleasure. An occasional indulgence becomes a treat I can savor and a hassle-free day is all I can hope for.

    I’ll keep adding to this gratifying list. It’s hokey, it’s corny, it’s self-indulgent . . . it’s me. If you notice, there is no mention of men.

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    Future Travel

    A couple of short, local trips to Spain and parts of the Algarve coming up soon; an Iceland cruise by way of Northern Europe in May; Oslo, Norway with Paco for all of July (with visits from friends); a much anticipated trip to the Puglia region of Italy in the spring of 2025. The United States sometime in 2025 is likely: Brooklyn, Florida, Portland, Maine, Maryland, and North Carolina. I can now fly direct from Faro to Newark, thanks to a new United route. I booked a Mediterranean cruise for October 2025 — it sails from Tel Aviv, so it’s a bit uncertain. It includes parts of Turkey and Egypt I have not yet explored.

    State-of-Mind

    Being satisfied with the status quo is not a bad place to be.

    Please forgive typos and grammatical errors; proofreading is the part I detest.

  • Define Fun

    Looking Within for Answers

    I included the fireworks photo just to remind myself how much I dislike them. If you’d seen my great dane freak out during 4th of July fireworks, in New York City, when I was 18 years old, you’d understand. Also, any loud bangs, pops, or explosions are hard on my ears.

    Fun

    noun

    1. enjoyment, amusement, or light-hearted pleasure. Oxford Languages dictionary

    Let’s go with light hearted pleasure . . .

    What Fun Once Meant

    What I thought of as being “fun” has naturally changed throughout my life. When I was five years old, playing on a rocking horse was fun; at fifteen, it was a film with popcorn at my local movie theater; in my 20s it was a night on the dance floor . . . you get the picture. Drinking until I passed out was never fun for me, nor was taking drugs or vandalizing my neighborhood. I’ve always been somewhat conventional and on the quieter side. I don’t see the point in fighting your proclivities.

    This topic is front and center due to recent comments made by friends and acquaintances:

    • Isn’t croquet an old persons’ game?
    • Isn’t Mah Jongg a women’s game?
    • Aren’t you missing out on a lot of fun by not going out at night?
    • Come out with us Friday night, you’ll have fun!
    • You may be using Paco as an excuse to stay home.
    • Are you traveling too much?

    None of these comments were meant to hurt my feelings; however, depending on the delivery, they can be considered stupid.

    How Fun Has Morphed Over time

    Admittedly, discovering what is fun can be experimenting with an activity or trying out something new. I remember going hang gliding and wondering if the thrill of soaring through the atmosphere without an engine would become a hobby; it did not. There was a time when I thought camping by a fire was fun; not so much now. A comfy bed and climate control is more my style. It’s good to know what you like and what you don’t like.

    Getting older factors into what I currently consider fun, but not for the reasons you might think. It’s not because I’m limited in what I can do, or that I fear death, or that I resent young people. It has a whole lot more to do with having lived a full life. I’ve tried many things and I have a fairly good idea about what makes me happy.

    Always Fun

    The following has and will always bring me great pleasure: live theater, good food & alcohol, a good night’s sleep, being in the sun on a warm (not hot) day, reading a good novel, that first cup of coffee in the morning, conversations with smart people, sitting by a fire on a cold night, a long walk on a beautiful day, time with my pet, travel, a good film, playing poker, swimming in the ocean, listening to music, hosting a dinner party, and laughter — no doubt all will remain on my pleasure list until I die.

    Great to be reminded of how long my list is.

    Future Fun

    I’m becoming more of a homebody as I grow older. I like my creature comforts. I enjoy slow, quiet days and early to bed nights. I like a glass of wine and a good film on Netflix. I love a home cooked meal. When the weather is warm, I enjoy a light dinner on the terrace at sunset. I’m not sure I’d classify all of these activities as “fun” per se, but they certainly do give me pleasure.

    Travel can be fun, but it can also be exhausting and anxiety producing. The key to the future enjoyment of travel will be hassle free, safe, well planned travel; travel with like-minded friends and family.

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    Future Travel

    South Africa land & sea in February, Iceland/Norwegian fjords, land & sea in May, Oslo in July. Finally, a visit to the Puglia region of Italy in the spring of 2025. The United States in 2025 is likely: Brooklyn, Florida, Portland, Maine, Maryland, and North Carolina. I booked a Mediterranean cruise for October 2025; more about that some other time — it sails from Tel Aviv.

    Current State of Mind

    I’m very excited about South Africa. Paco is eating well and looking good. My floors are being refinished in a bold, bright white next week. By the end of the day yesterday, I was so exhausted that I was worried about walking Paco. I am occasionally reminded that I am no longer a young man; makes me wonder what 80 may feel like.

    “Pleasure is the only thing one should live for, nothing ages like happiness.”

    ― Oscar Wilde