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It’s All About Winning

Politics, relationships, life, sports . . .

Photo by Olena Bohovyk

Just about everyone I know is living through relationship difficulties during this divisive time in the States. Growing up, any conversation was fair game at the dinner table. We fought over politics, race, religion, and just about anything you can imagine. In the end, there was so much love between us, it never got in the way of our very close bond. Maybe that’s why despite our political differences, I am still very close to several of my family members. I say several because there are a handful who have become judgmental and divisive.

Our lives are not always reflective of the rest of the world. When I was a young man and I attended dinner parties, it was made clear that certain topics were taboo. My guess is that the host did not want to deal with cat fighting and screeching, people possibly walking out, and even worse, people never coming back. Individuals can be hellbent on winning arguments. We’ve all been to at least one of these epic gatherings.

For many of us, it’s all about winning. It’s one of those things some of us were taught growing up: “Winning is everything.”

“Winning is the most important thing in my life, after breathing. Breathing first, winning next.” ~ George Steinbrenner

It’s Okay Not to Win (here comes the list):

  • when you’re having an argument with your boss and you need the job
  • when you’re playing sports or a game with your child
  • when you’re playing for a charitable organization and it’s more to do with making a donation
  • when make-up sex is on the horizon
  • when you have a disagreement with someone you care about
  • when you may never see the person you disagree with again
  • when getting to a win will cause health issues
  • when winning means losing your integrity
  • when you would have to lie in order to win
  • when winning means losing a friend
  • when winning means cheating
  • when losing means keeping your humility

I have this little voice in my head that tells me: winning comes at a cost and that thought stops me from doing many things — good, bad, I’m not sure.

When Winning is Fun

Winning is fun when you’re enjoying yourself; when it’s not life and death or having to go to prison for the win. I love winning a game of cards. I love when my political party wins an election. I love winning at the blackjack table. I love winning a playful bet. I love winning a scratch-off lottery ticket. I love winning board games. I love winning a big Supreme Court Case (i.e., gay marriage). I love when winning is followed by a celebration. It’s true, I love winning.

I was never sports minded, so when I play croquet and win, I get a bit of a thrill. I can see why athletes love winning — both team and individual sports. Unfortunately, illegal betting and greed can spoil the game. I’ll never truly understand why anyone would want to spoil a beautiful thing. The worst of humanity rears its ugly head.

“The person that said winning isn’t everything, never won anything.” ~ Mia Hamm

A Personal Story

When I worked for Dorothy Hamilton, owner of the French Culinary Institute, we used to enjoy playing Scrabble; obviously not at work.

Dorothy once invited me to her Connecticut home for the weekend. We sat by a warm fire for several hours playing Scrabble. I was a better player, but I held back because I knew how much Dorothy liked to win. Although I am very competitive, there are times when winning must be less important. About halfway through the game she misspelled a word. I looked at it and thought it best not to challenge her.

It was getting late and we had plans to go out to dinner. Dorothy excused herself to change clothing. She told me that a friend of hers would be joining us and to answer the door when she arrived. A few minutes later the doorbell rang and when I went to the door, it was the actress Christine Baranski. She was gorgeous and gracious; it took every ounce of restraint not to gush. I welcomed Christine into Dorothy’s home. She asked me where Dorothy was and walked over to the fireplace where our Scrabble board was set-up.

Christine Baranski - Wikipedia
Christine Baranski, one of my all time favorites

“Playing Scrabble?” She uttered.

“We are,” I replied.

“Well, one of you misspelled a word.” Christine pointed at the board and sucked her teeth.

I told her that I knew that it was misspelled; however, I requested that she keep it between us. She asked me why and I told her that I didn’t notice it until it was too late and besides, “I work for Dorothy.”

Dorothy called Christine’s name from upstairs and ran down to greet her. It didn’t take long for Christine to call out Dorothy.

“Dorothy, you spelled a word wrong and Chris is afraid of you.”

I kept my mouth shut and Dorothy looked at me and said, “Why didn’t you challenge me?”

I lied and told her that I didn’t realize it was misspelled while we were playing. I’m fairly certain she didn’t believe me and she teased me about it for a long time. About a year later we were at a Manhattan restaurant and she brought it up.

“Are you afraid of me?”

“Yes,” I said, “you can be intimidating and besides, you’re my boss.”

I promise you she said the following:

“It’s okay with me if I intimidate you.”

I believe that sums her up. I stand by my decision to have allowed Dorothy to win.

By the way, Christine Baranski was charming, funny and great company. I believe she kept Dorothy honest and that was a good thing for the rest of us. (A tragic car accident took Dorothy a few years ago.)

An aside: Joan Rivers joined us at our table at the restaurant that night. I loved Joan Rivers, so that was a huge thrill. I just have to say, in person Joan’s plastic surgery made her pretty scary to look at — her face like a porcelain doll; the rest of her cracked and extremely wrinkled. I have some strong opinions about the amount of pervasive plastic surgery in certain parts of the world — sad and pathetic.

A Contest

I won a laughing contest in South Carolina when I was in my early twenties. It was a promotion for a new Jerry Lewis film. I defeated 39 other laughing contestants. The stakes were high and I knew I could do it if I gave it my all. I loved winning this contest, it has put a smile on my face many times throughout the years. No one was hurt in the process and I proved something to myself that will remain with me throughout my life — there was a nice prize, but the prize was perseverance. It was a small thing, but it packed a big punch. Laughter has always been a gift I take for granted. I need you all to remind me to lighten-up and laugh more.

The topic of “losing” saved for another day. Let’s just say it isn’t all bad.

Circling Back to a Previous Blog, Jan. ’21 (Updated)

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Future Travel

An Iceland cruise by way of Northern Europe in less than two weeks; Oslo, Norway with Paco for all of July (with visits from friends throughout the month), Krakow, Poland in October, 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: Brooklyn, Florida, Portland, Maine, Maryland, and North Carolina.

State-of-Mind

Iceland and the Norwegian fjords cometh real soon! I belong to a club in the Algarve that has unfortunately fizzled. It’s not personal, but I find myself disturbed by the anger, resentment, and communication breakdown among people I like (most) and respect. This situation seems to mirror what is taking place everywhere these days.

We Don’t Talk Anymore by Charlie Puth

We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do

I just heard you found the one you’ve been looking
You’ve been looking for
I wish I would have known that wasn’t me
‘Cause even after all this time, I still wonder
Why I can’t move on
Just the way you did so easily

Don’t wanna know
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight
If he’s holding onto you so tight
The way I did before
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame

That we don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do

I just hope you’re lying next to somebody
Who knows how to love you like me
There must be a good reason that you’re gone
Every now and then I think you might want me to
Come show up at your door
But I’m just too afraid that I’ll be wrong

Don’t wanna know
If you’re looking into her eyes
If she’s holding onto you so tight
The way I did before
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame

That we don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do

Like we used to do

Don’t wanna know
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight
If he’s giving it to you just right
The way I did before
I overdosed
Should’ve known your love was a game
Now I can’t get you out of my brain
Oh, it’s such a shame

That we don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
We don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do
We don’t love anymore
What was all of it for?
Oh, we don’t talk anymore
Like we used to do

We don’t talk anymore (don’t wanna know)
Kind of dress you’re wearing tonight (oh)
If he’s holding onto you so tight (oh)
The way I did before
We don’t talk anymore (I overdosed)
Should’ve known your love was a game (oh)
Now I can’t get you out of my brain (whoa)
Oh, it’s such a shame

That we don’t talk anymore

Once again please forgive any grammatical and/or typographical errors

Posted on by CP · 2 Comments

Truth, Lies, & Gossip

Trust Issues? Me? Nah. How about you?

I suspect most, if not all, adults have trust issues. Human beings can be deceptive and deceitful; uplifting topic no? Unfortunately, gossip and minding other people’s business are also some of our glorious and not-so-attractive traits.

The “who cares what people say” attitude is admirable; however, not my truth. Therefore, the best I can do is find a way to navigate the current landscape. By the way, I’m as guilty as the next guy when it comes to telling white lies; however, 9 out of 10 times, it’s either to save someone’s feelings or avoid unnecessary conflict.

Short Story

I recently received a text from an individual who said he was coming to the Algarve for a short visit. He was wondering if he could stay with me for a few days. A couple of details factored into my reply: first, this was a friend of a friend I had spent five minutes with in New York, and second, I didn’t like him — you know one of those slick willies who tries to get you to invest in shit you have no business getting involved with. I told him I’d be away for a few weeks during the time of his visit. I gathered that he got the message because I didn’t hear back. This was a lie I didn’t mind telling.

It would be so much better to just outright say what we think, but it’s not the way our culture works; we thrive in a sea of lies.

What We Say to One Another

Have you ever told someone you had to get off the phone because you had an important call you had to take or make? Have you ever told a party host you had to leave because you had an early flight (your flight was at 3:00 p.m. the next day, for some people that’s early)? What about I can’t travel with you to Greece because I spent all of my discretionary income last month? I imagine these are lies we have all told at one point or another in our lives. These lies keep us from hurting feelings. Most of us know when it’s happening and just accept it as common practice. Then there is the knife in the back distortion of the truth or partial truth.

What I am talking about is deception among friends; the telling of untruths specifically meant to damage an individual’s reputation or standing. I’m going to use an example that cannot be traced back to one of my friends:

I’m sitting at lunch with Mary and she tells me that she heard that Mark is having an affair with Lilly; all mutual friends. My first response should be, “I don’t want to hear about it.” But because I’m human, my interest peaked. You know about this kind of gossip, it’s the worst. Is it based on speculation? Is someone jealous? Has someone been scorned and seeks revenge? There are so many different reasons people start these kinds of rumors. In truth, it’s unfair to everyone involved. If it’s a fact and someone is being deceived, that’s different. There are discreet and appropriate ways to handle these indiscretions, gossip or whispering behind one’s back, is not one of them.

For me there are two red flags when someone is about to share something inappropriate with me: 1) I’m telling you this because I care about you, and 2) it’s for your own good. You see a person once a week and she never asks you a single question about how you’re doing or where you’ve been, but then she cares so much about you, really?

This is a big one: We all know people who spend a great deal of time talking about mutual friends and acquaintances who are not present. Did you hear about so and so; I can’t believe he did that to her; she couldn’t possibly have that much money just sitting around; I’m sure they did it to look better than everyone else . . . call it gossip, talking behind someone’s back, spite talk . . . whatever it is, it makes you wonder what that person says about you when you’re not around.

I recently confronted an acquaintance about what she was saying when a friend was not in the room. Her reply was clever, but dubious: “Sally and I had it out on Thursday and told her I’d be asking around to verify her story; there is no other way to find out if what she was telling me was true.” If that isn’t a load of bullshit. At the very least, this person knows that I’m onto her. These days, I don’t spend a whole lot of time worrying about what individuals say when I’m not around; it’s out of my control and I trust people to consider the source. Your time and energy is better spent on positive and productive matters.

When I was married, 24 years old and working at a university on Long Island, there were three different rumors going around about older women I was sleeping with. I thought that was pretty funny considering I was spending so much energy hiding my sexual orientation.

What We Say to Others

What do you say to those you care about? Often, it’s what you don’t say:

  • You look really tired
  • Why isn’t Gary working yet?
  • You’ve been sick for a long time
  • Did Emma invite you to her birthday dinner?
  • Why did you buy that house?

Obviously questions you might ask that would make people defensive, seldom leading to open lines of communication.

Here are some things you might say to gain trust and respect:

  • Yesterday you told me you were feeling a bit down, how are you today? Do you want to talk about it?
  • If you don’t mind I’d rather you didn’t speak about Mark, he’s a good friend and I don’t want to betray our trust or tarnish our friendship.
  • Tell me about that restaurant ordeal; was it difficult to be at the table?
  • I’ve been noticing that you’re quiet lately; I just want to make sure you’re okay.
  • I just want you to know I’m here.

A friend recently said, “There is something I’d like to share with you, but you should know I’m not looking for answers or advice.” I heard her loud and clear and I respected her honesty.

Navigating the Absence of Trust

In my mind there are limited options for interacting with individuals you do not trust. You can work on building trust. This takes time and investment, but it could be worth the payoff. I think it’s important to go with your gut; if after a while you’re not feeling it, you should probably walk away or distance yourself — not so easy if it’s your sister-in-law or boss.

Then there are those who have earned your trust only to have it all collapse after a devastating incident. A good friend who sleeps with your husband, a sister who steals cash from your wallet, a friend who tells everyone something you shared in strictest confidence . . . difficult to regain trust after betrayal.

The last one I’ll mention is the one I struggle with most: You have someone in your life who says and does all the right things, but it’s all surface stuff. You crave substance, but it’s just not there. You constantly wonder if this person is hiding something or questions your discretion. You ask questions; however, the answers just don’t come. It’s a conundrum because you’re fully invested. This may be one of those times where you may need to examine your own life. Are you trustworthy; are you asking the right questions? Objectivity is difficult when self-examination is warranted. In cases like this, I engage with someone I trust; they will usually provide some solid advice or help me with the right questions. But once again, in the end walking away may be your best option.

A thought: I have recently discovered that a great deal of the anxiety I have related to this trust issue, is self-generated. In short, drama that I have either initiated or created. It’s so much healthier to step back and let things be. Stirring the pot or looking for problems that do not exist is unhealthy and unnecessary. Time to trust yourself and let life play out as it inevitably will. Forgive yourself Christopher.

For those of you who may be feeling guilty (ha) because you occasionally partake in small-time gossip: relax, we’re all (okay most of us) a little guilty of it. When people spread lies or damaging, unsubstantiated gossip, now that’s a different story (see aforementioned example).

“Trust takes many years to build, few seconds to break, and forever to repair.” ~ Invajy

Holding Onto Those You Can Trust

You know the expression, “I have your back?” When you discover that you have a family member or friend that always has your back, nurture that relationship; these kinds of friends are hard to come by.

A thought: Today’s political landscape makes candid conversation and trust very difficult. There are times when I can put politics aside; however, if it’s about personal freedom/rights, race, guns, sexuality, etc., all bets are off.

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Future Travel

Basel, Switzerland coming up soon, Asia land & sea, end of October/November, Lyon, France for Christmas, South Africa land & sea in February, and Oslo, Norway July 2024. Finally, a visit to the Puglia region of Italy in the spring of 2025; it’s about time I visit the birthplace of my father.

Current State-of Mind

Super excited about Switzerland after two months of staying away from travel. Keeping it special and occasional, is the way to enjoy time away (for me). Other than that, body issues related to aging; sucks to get old, but as they say, “It’s better than the alternative.”

“You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don’t trust enough.” ~ Frank Crane

Please forgive any grammatical or typographical errors. No AI software used in the creation of this blog.

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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 · 8 Comments

Three Friends, Three Cities, Three Very Different Experiences

Friendships are a true gift, but they aren’t always easy and they should never be taken for granted. As with all relationships, you have to nurture them. I have three male friends I have known for a combined total of close to 100 years. These men are different in many ways; they do not know one another; I love all three for different reasons. When I spend time with each of them, I have a totally different experience.

I spoke with them separately about spending some bro time together; in two cases without their female spouses. They all three agreed to see me for quality time we may not have shared otherwise. All three have agreed to my public blog. My goal is to illustrate in words and pictures, how each person in our lives provides us with something unique and necessary — as necessary as the air we breathe.

No Two Friendships are Alike

I learned early in life, that friendship cannot be easily explained. A person may appear one day as if placed down by a divine hand and the next thing you know, you are the best of friends. What makes this connection different? Everything. Trust, security, loyalty, companionship, confidant, active listener, great dining partner, a shoulder to cry on, understanding, a history, strength, support, and so on. My friendships with these three men consist of all of the above and more. I thank them for sticking with me and by me; I congratulate myself for doing the work necessary to cultivate good friendships. I have other men and women in my life that I love and adore, but I limited this piece to Adam, David, and Don because they are the three I planned various parts of this trip with.

Men

All three are exceptional men. I have never had more than a friendship with any of them. They have seen me through the best of times and the worst of times; I hope they feel the same way about me, I’m fairly certain they do. What I think makes this situation somewhat unique is several things: first, only one of them is gay, but our sexual orientation is not what binds us; second, the three only know of one another through me, and lastly, they each provide support and love in very different ways. I know how fortunate I am; however, laying it out helps me to understand why the work we put into relationships is worth the effort. I’m a firm believer that most of us take way too much for granted (including me).

I believe that most people would agree that men are vastly different from women in many ways. I’m being cautious here as to not offend either sex. For the purpose of this piece, I’d like to note my observations (not absolutes):

  • Men leave a great deal unsaid.
  • Men are a bit uneasy when discussing how they feel.
  • Men are fairly competitive with one another.
  • Men believe they are physically stronger than women, but there are times I would have to disagree.
  • When men are into a sports event, very few things can/do distract them.
  • Straight men are stubborn about asking for directions when lost.
  • Gay men are particularly nostalgic.
  • Gay men and straight men usually enjoy very different types of music.
  • When a straight man is forced to be with someone or do something they’d rather not do, you will live to regret it in one way or another.
  • Gay men talk about being gay, straight men do not talk about being straight.
  • Men, gay or straight, prefer to be behind the wheel, as opposed to sitting in the passenger seat.
  • I have never heard a straight man utter the words, “thread count.”
  • Gay men tend to care more about fabric, wall color, and furniture.
  • Straight men do not moisturize.

Don’t beat me up over my impressions and experiences.

Any fool knows men and women think differently at times, but the biggest difference is this: men forget, but never forgive; women forgive, but never forget.
—Robert Jordan

All over the world when you test men and women for facial cue recognition, women test…better. It’s a negotiation tool.
—Michael Gurian

Adam

Adam and Toronto were my first stop. I didn’t really give Adam a city choice; I was trying out a new direct flight from Faro to Toronto. I had only been to Toronto once and I have always wanted to return. I proposed a few days with me in Toronto and Adam said yes. I wasn’t surprised, we’ve been close friends for a long time.

I met Adam at the James Beard House in New York City in the 90s. We sat next to one another at a table of foodies; Adam was by far the foodiest. When he talks about food and wine his eyes sparkle and he becomes charmingly animated. I knew I could learn a lot from him. I invited him to L’Ecole at the French Culinary Institute and we became fast friends. He eventually asked me to be his Best Man. His wife is one of my favorite people and his children are two of the finest humans I know. Adam considers me part of his family and I am thrilled to have that distinguished place in his life. He is smart, worldly, empathetic, and he accepts me for who I am.

Adam is a planner. Being like minded about researching a place before you travel there is something we delight in. He sent me a long list of possible eateries and told me that each of them was negotiable save one. There was a restaurant he decided was a must and getting in during our time in Toronto was going to be challenging. I must confess that I never doubted his abilities for even a nano of a second. He got us in. Knowing it was a bit more than I would usually spend on a meal, he offered to treat. Adam is one of my most generous friends.

Rather than name specific places we visited or talk about dishes we ate, I’d rather share the dynamics of my relationship with this very special man.

I feel fortunate because not all straight men can get close to gay men. We all know why these limitations and challenges exist; therefore, I will spare you the psychology of all that. I will also point out that I am not easy to be friends with. I am demanding; I can be selfish; I often run my mouth endlessly and expect you to listen to every word I say; I can be controlling, fussy, and I sometimes lack empathy. So when someone (Adam) decides despite all of those obstacles and challenges, they still desire my company, I’m game.

Adam is a practicing Jew. I have had the pleasure of Passover meals with him and his family. I also attended his daughters Bar mitzvah (Bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah refer to the Jewish coming of age ritual. The plural is b’nei mitzvah for both boys and mixed gender groups, or b’not mitzvah for girls. Wikipedia). Sharing Adams faith with him is something he may not know is very special for me. Although, I am not Jewish, I love how strong his faith is and how happy it makes him. In some way it probably shapes my trust in him as a human.

We share a love of food, art, theatre, travel, making memories, and life itself. If I’m going to be honest, I wasn’t sure about my friendship with Adam at first. God knows he was persistent and laser focused on forming a friendship. I’m pleased that neither of us gave up. Adam is a mensch.

Adam’s advice is always thoughtful and sound. I picked his brain a lot this trip. Someone I have known and loved for many years passed while I was in Toronto with Adam. The support and love he showed me as I grieved was much appreciated and a tribute to the friend and man he is.

I might also add that his wife is very special to me. It is not always the case that you love a friend’s partner; both Adam’s wife and Don’s wife give their husbands the space to be with me.

David

David and I met while sharing a house in The Pines on Fire Island. We ended up with bedrooms on the same floor with a shared bedroom inbetween. There were something like 11 other men involved in the share. David wasn’t anything like any of them. David was easy to talk with and real. Early on in our friendship we went for long walks on Fire Island and shared some of what frustrated us about our boyfriends at the time.

We participated in the share for several summers and spend time together during the other three seasons. We shared a very close friendship with a third man from the house who eventually died of complications from AIDS. David helped take care of Roger at the end of his life (he’s a saint) and always kept me in the loop. He called me shortly before Roger died to let me know it was time to say goodbye to him.

In many ways, David has taught me how to a gay man. It was David who instructed me on how to party safely. He accompanied me to many club events; he always made sure I was enjoying myself and made it home safely.

In addition to the many things we love doing together, we have one thing that we are polar opposites about; David loves opera and I hate it. He always had very expensive seats to the Met and once, I’m still not sure why, I accompanied him to see an opera. Once was more than enough. I love how passionate he is about opera, music, theatre and art. I asked in if he ever dreamed about being someone else or doing something else and he told me that he would have loved to have been a famous opera singer. You think you know someone.

David is a magnificent and talented artist. Several of his pieces have been shown in prestigious galleries and institutes. He is humble and creates in order to move people in some way — not in order to get rich from the sale of his work. He is a weaver; not shocking that the loom in his studio was larger than the bed I slept in. He is also painting these days. He’s his worst critic, but no doubt, he is good at everything he does.

Everything David owns in his beautiful apartment has been carefully curated. His taste is impeccable. I cannot say this about everyone I love, but David is someone whose home I could live in comfortably. It is surrounded by beautiful things; however, it remains cozy and comfortable. Oh and he is a wonderful cook; especially his Swedish dishes which come from several years of living and studying weaving there. He speaks Swedish too. I’m so pleased to have stayed with him. Now I can picture him in his studio. Now I can say that I have been to the homes of all three of these friends; they are all magnificent in different ways.

My conversations with David are usually very intense. We share just about everything and we share without judgment. As with most friendships, being friends doesn’t mean we are the same people. We are passionate about different things. What I think is unique about us, compared to Adam and Don, is our own stories of fighting to be ourselves as gay men. Our stories are different and similar, but they are ours to share with one another. Our conversations on these trip were no different. However, this time we talked more about quality of life, future plans, and end of life.

David visited me in Portugal and trusted me to plan his time with me. Except for insisting we spend no more than three hours in a car at a time, I did the same with him. He took me to Hanging Lake, Glenwood Springs, Maroon Bells, Aspen, and several excellent restaurants. I won’t lie, one of the hikes was quick challenging, but I have no regrets and I will remember the experience forever. He also threw a party for me and allowed me to invites other friends who live in Denver. I was also able to meet people in his life I have not met in the past.

Don

I’ve known Don longer than my other two friends; we were roommates at The University of North Carolina at Charlotte (44 years ago). Don is a very successful architect. When we were roommates he promised to design an underground house for me. While in Detroit, I asked him if he is still committed to design that house for me and he said he is. That’s all I needed to hear.

We chose Detroit because of its rich architecture and outstanding restaurants. Neither Don nor the reason for meeting there were disappointments. The city has rebounded from despair to beauty and culture at every turn — we were impressed. Cranbrook House & Gardens were a real trip. We took a side trip to Ann Arbor which was also fruitful.

Don was my best man when I married 40 years ago. He arrived at the church missing a sock and someone else from my wedding party had to run to a store to buy him socks. This is probably one of the things I love about Don. He is about as easy going as a human can be. I checked this fact with him on this trip:

Don, have we ever had words?

No, I’m pretty sure we haven’t.

That’s pretty crazy considering how difficult I can be.

No Chris, you’re easy.

___________________________________________________________

Me easy? Perhaps Don makes it easy?

Don and I have long periods of silence when we are together, no matter where we might be. The silence is about respect and comfort. There is no concern about what might be unsaid. When Don says he wants to see a building, I want to see that building. When I say I want to eat Italian, Don is fine with Italian. The ease of our choices is delightful.

I learned something shocking about Don on this trip: he has never been to a nightclub. This blows me away on so many levels. He believes in God and doesn’t shove religion down my throat. He speaks fondly and respectfully of his incredible wife and two amazing daughters. I listen with awe and delight, having been in his life for all of the milestones and disappointments.

I cannot say that I got closer to these three men on this trip, because I’m not sure we can be any closer. I feel privileged and blessed to have had the time to be with them and I’m pleased that they made the time to be with me. True friendship is a gift that keeps on giving and these three friendships are more than I could ever hope for.

The three cities we spent time in matched our personalities in a way. Toronto is intelligent as is Adam. Denver is filled with natural beauty and light, not unlike David. Detroit offered a rich history; Don as my oldest friend knows a whole lot about that.

I realized on this trip that all three men love to walk, love to eat, love film, love to talk, love their friends and family, love to read, and truly love life. These are the things that bind us together.

An Old Friend I Haven’t Seen

I met Gina over 15 years ago at an accreditation conference. We hit it off instantly and we’ve never lost touch. I had breakfast with her and in Denver. It was as if no time at all had gone by.

Future Travel

My three times cancelled cruise (COVID) to northern Europe is coming up in just a week. I’m sad about just getting home to see and spend time with Paco and then having to leave him again. I know he loves his sitter, but I like to think he’d prefer to have me at home. When I return from the cruise I intend to stay put for a few weeks. The timing of the cruise is not ideal, however, there is nothing I can do to change NCL dates.

Lyon, France with friends in November and a few trips planned for 2023.

My Paco (right) and his best friend Petucha, while I was away

Disclaimer:

I apologize for spelling or grammar mistakes. I’m not in the mood to reread this blog.

Posted on by CP

Revisiting Happiness

It ain’t rocket science.

Today

Thanksgiving has and will always be my favorite holiday. Why you ask? It’s all about the food, being with people you choose to be with (can’t speak for everyone here), and there are no presents involved. I’m attending a Thanksgiving dinner today with all of the trimmings . . . happiness.

I witnessed the death of a 17 year old girl this week and I’m experiencing a bit of PTSD. Sleep has been elusive; the tape of how it went down is playing on a loop in my head. I’m revisiting a past blog in order to break the cycle and be more present.

Thoughts about happiness has been occupying a great deal of my time lately. I’ve been taking stock of my life and wondering the following:

  1. Am I happy? I mean happy most of the time. I know there are degrees of happiness; let’s say moderately pleased.
  2. What makes me happy?
  3. What do I need to do to be happier? Or what do I need in my life?
  4. Is it okay to settle for happy moments versus overall happiness?
  5. Are my expectations reasonable? Why or why not?
  6. How do I assess my own happiness?
  7. Do others interfere with my happiness?
  8. Do I make myself unhappy?
  9. What does being happy feel like?
  10. What were the happiest times of my life? Do I ponder those moments enough?
  11. Who makes me happy?
  12. Why does being happy matter?
  13. How does my state of happiness affect others?
  14. Organic moments of joy versus contrived moments — does it matter?

I’m not going to go through these questions and answer them one by one. I am instead demonstrating where my head is at this stage of my life and how might create my own present and future. I’ll be sixty in a few months (I’m now almost 63) and whether I like it or not, age factors into my happiness. It’s a milestone that forces you to take inventory and consider your future.

Health

Health is a difficult reality. On one hand I want to live as healthy a life as possible, so that I can enjoy a good quality of life; on the other hand there are many choices that I make that bring me joy, however, these choices have a negative impact on my health. For example, my daily 5:00 p.m. cocktail. I usually only have one and I know that by itself, that is not a bad thing, but there are a couple of other considerations:  1) the cocktail contains empty calories with no nutritional value, 2) when I’m with friends, I will give myself permission to have more than one, and 3) I also have a glass (or two) of wine with dinner. I am not an alcoholic and I don’t drink to get drunk. Still, I know that I would probably drop a few pounds if I stopped drinking. Truth is I enjoy that time of day when I relax and have a drink; I enjoy the taste of a cocktail or wine. I have made the conscious decision to continue drinking and monitor my intake; try my best to keep it at two or three portions a night. I have a very similar relationship with food, which also provides for a good deal of my happiness. Most of what I eat is fresh, healthy and delicious; however, there is that ten percent of my diet that I know is unhealthy. Again, one has to know oneself and choose wisely. And get a regular check-up to be aware of what your body can tolerate.

Note:  It doesn’t help that two of my dearest married friends had cocktails at 5:00 p.m. and ate what ever they wanted and had/have very healthy and long lives. One of them just recently passed away at age 95 and the other is alive and healthy at 90. Of course I know that everyone has a different genetic make-up and many, many other factors contribute to a long and healthy life.

I have always said that I’d rather live to be 80 and enjoy the bounty of life, then live to be 90 and deny myself much of what I truly love. This lifestyle choice doesn’t work for everyone. I am happy to say that I am almost 63 years old and medication free. I workout five days a week and only suffer the normal aches and pains that come with aging.

It’s odd how little we talk about our own path. We usually talk about other people and their habits or we generalize about society as a whole. It seems that people are either ashamed of their choices or choose to hide them. I wrote about my drinking habits this week in hopes of getting feedback from my readers. Am I kidding myself? Do my habits seem healthy? Unhealthy?

Note: I have cutback to cocktails in the evening twice a week. I sleep better, enjoy food more, and spend less on alcohol.

Home

The first view is the backside of my apartment and it represents my morning view. This morning, I watched the lunar eclipse. I have a clear view of Faro, the mountains and the morning moon. This view inspires me and reminds me that I am alive and that each day is a new and different day. The morning light is filled with color; most of the year I can watch the sunrise from my terrace. I also have a magnificent view of the Ria Formosa. The Ria is every changing and dynamic.

The second view is just after the sun has set in the evening. This view is facing southwest from the front of my apartment. This view represents the quiet of the evening — soft, diffused light

Front views at different times of the day on different days:

There is a spot in my dining room where I can see both views. Depending on the time of day, every view is different and new. It’s like slowly moving still photographs marking time. I stand in this spot at least once a day to marvel at the light and color. [This has been a great reminder — I cannot take this for granted.]

Family

Family can complicate happiness. I love my family dearly and my happiness is all wrapped up in their happiness. I constantly consider the amount of control or the lack of control I possess related to their happiness. I can make my sister laugh or buy my brother a nice present; I can spend hours on the phone with my niece listening to her talk about esoteric adventures; I can daydream about how my mom would take us shopping as children, pass an underwear bin, grab a pair and put it over her head; and I can spend time remembering my four siblings who have left us. A reminder of how finite and fleeting life can be. My family, for the most part, makes me happy.

Friends

Good friends know when you are unhappy; they know it before you do. My friends question my emotional state of mind on a regular basis. Thoughts are always churning and when that’s happening I don’t always smile. When I’m not smiling, my friends get concerned and I have to reassure them that everything is okay. There are times when I am not happy — for my good friends, that’s okay.

I consider my good friends, my family. No doubt my good friends make me happy. Sometimes they make me sad, but I realize that peaks and valleys are a normal part of life.

Plans:  Travel, Entertainment, Dining and Adventure

Making plans and executing them is all about creating memories. I read an anonymous quote many years ago that went something like this:

“We don’t remember days, we remember moments.”

Those words stuck with me and I have always tried to create moments or cement moments into my memory. Like the time I was mountain biking through a dense wooded area in Mexico. For a few moments I felt as free as a bird and more alive than I had ever felt. It was exhilarating, I remember this happy moment as if it happened yesterday. I have many moments like this one and I recall these moments frequently.

Since arriving in Portugal, I have been creating these moments as often as possible.

New: This week I reconnected with a friend with whom I had been estranged from. This individual and I had been close friends for over 25 years. The how and why of the estrangement doesn’t matter, what matters is this: If you love someone and you do not speak because of a misunderstanding or something that happened a long time ago, consider a conversation. It may open a door that could lead to reconciliation. We get to do this thing called life once; why not carry love, trust and hope, rather than bitterness and pain.

The Future:  Goals and Aspirations

I have come to realize that no matter how hard I try, there are certain “life concerns” that occupy my mind. When I’m in total control, rested, and have plans for the near future, I can keep these concerns in check and focus on my positive future plans. I also know that there are times when no amount of positive thinking or intervention by friends or family, can help put me in a happy place. When this happens I make myself as comfortable as possible and allow my thoughts to flow organically. The unhappy stuff usually passes pretty quickly when I allow myself to just feel or think whatever it is I’m feeling or thinking. I’ve learned that fighting my natural inclinations only makes me more anxious — know thyself.

A Funny thing happened on the way home:

My friend Susan is visiting from Maine for a few days (2019). Unlike most of my friends, she reads my blog (as Bianca del Rio would say, “I ain’t mad at that”). So we were on a train to Tavira and I was talking about what I needed to include in this week’s “happiness” blog.

“I need to remember to make a note about how happiness directly correlates with being grateful, in my blog.”

We talked about how fortunate I am to be living this abundant life in Portugal. Not long after this conversation, we were sitting in the backseat of an Uber and the driver took us through a section of Faro I had never seen. The driver was surprised to learn that I live in Faro. She looked back at us in the rearview mirror and she said,

“Faro is a happy place.”

What more can I say.

Posted on by CP · 2 Comments

Humans Are Strange Mammals

The Travel Paradox

My last view (from my bed) prior to leaving the States

I am relieved to be home from a three week trip to the States. Ironically, I almost said, ” . . . three week trip home.” I did not go home, I am home, Portugal is home. We spend so much time making our homes comfortable and beautiful and then we travel someplace else.

In many ways returning to the United States during a pandemic was an insane proposition. My flight was cancelled, rebooked, cancelled, changed, changed again, and changed one final time. What should have been a seven hour direct flight turned into two stressful flights; the first in the wrong direction with a very tight connection — more like 17 hours. I had to be tested for COVID-19 prior to travelling, at my expense. It should be noted that the PCR test in the States was offered at no cost. COVID testing has become a big business with many charging as much $250; criminal.

Looking back, the four airports I travelled through were extremely busy — a plug for Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport, which was by far the most efficient and user friendly.

I cannot help but wonder if I would have made this trip knowing what I know now. True, there are family and friends I wanted to see; I needed to see. It had been a long time and I lived in the U.S. for the first 59 years of my life. This trip took its toll on me mentally and physically like no other before it. I’m going to stop writing for afew days. My negative feelings about what I saw and experienced in the U.S. are skewed and time will help.

[An apology to friends and family: I imagine you grew tired of comparisons between Portugal and the U.S. For example, “I can get a latte and a pastry for two euros in Faro.” That must have sounded more like: wah, wah, wah and wah. My bad. Is it true people are no longer saying, “My bad.?”]

Some time has passed and I have gained some perspective.

One of positive things about travel was the renewed appreciation of my home. Whilst away, I thought a lot about Faro, Paco (my dog), and my apartment. After only a few days, I lamented about the rest I get in my own bed and the joy I get from hanging with Paco.

Of course I know that I think and say all of these things and by next week this time I will be thinking about my next trip and longing to be away again.

I didn’t take very many photos; living in the moment and creating living memories. No doubt, I am one lucky fella. Don’t be upset if you do not see yourself here, I chose these pics quickly — I blame jet lag.

Some of the highlights and pitfalls of my time in the States (not all fact, but a whole lot of opinion):

  • The non-U.S. passport line at JFK was a lot shorter; there is a first time for everything.
  • I oddly had little to no jet lag going west.
  • The old Penn Station was like entering hell without warning. I’m still suffering from PTSD — Posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a psychiatric disorder that may occur in people who have experienced or witnessed a traumatic event such as a natural disaster, a serious accident, a terrorist act, war/combat, or rape or who have been threatened with death, sexual violence or serious injury (Google).
  • New York City is not the same with Broadway gone dark and that’s just a fact.
  • People get angry with you when you’re nearby, but have no time to see them. Please don’t be mad at me.
  • The food in New York City is better than anywhere I have ever been (must be the competition).
  • Brooklyn Bridge Park is absolutely incredible and should not be missed — what a gift to the people of Brooklyn and the city of New York.
  • There is no bed like your own bed.
  • May is the best month of the year for good weather in the northeast (mostly not hot and humid).
  • I understand why they say you can never go home again.
  • No one gets you the way your siblings do.
  • Charlotte, North Carolina has exploded (I went to university there).
  • BBQ should only be eaten in the south.
  • Downtown Boston is not easy to navigate since the Big Dig. I almost missed my bus back to New York (plug for Flexi Bus; easy and inexpensive way to travel).
  • I’ve been writing this blog for three years and much to my chagrin, friends actually said this, ” . . . so what is your blog about?”
  • Not everyone is happy that I was able to get the J&J vaccine in Brooklyn. Doesn’t matter, I’m glad I did.
  • I spent way too much time throughout my travels, thinking about quarantine weight.
  • I refuse to travel back to the United States during this pandemic; I know we’re all hoping things will improve soon.
  • I thought turning your data off on your cell stopped you from roaming. A cell phone bill for hundreds of euros let me know that I was wrong. I’m certain cell carriers and cell phone manufacturers are in cahoots regarding this issue. My iphone has to be on airplane mode to avoid roaming charges. I can assure you that unless I have dementia (do I?), that will never happen again.
  • You know I have a lot more to say, note my restraint.

A Minha Casa

Now that I have been home for almost a week, I can sit back and reflect on the significance of this last visit to my place of birth. People I know and love have lots going on; they’re frenetic, preoccupied and manic. That doesn’t mean they love me or think of me any less. What it does mean, is that I need to be patient and understanding. All I ask in return, is the same consideration

I painted stenciled blue birds on my solarium floor on my first full day home. No doubt I was seeking peace and tranquility. Hoping to squash that PTSD.

I cancelled my trip to Lyon scheduled for next week. Too much COVID-19 testing and complicated travel. Businesses blaming everything that goes wrong on this virus is getting old.

I have tickets to Bristol, UK in July — who knows if that will happen. It’s only been postponed four times. Stockholm in August, Toulouse in September, London and a European cruise in October, and a long awaited trip to five Asian countries in January 2022. Cuba moved to February and the planning continues. I keep telling myself it’s okay to plan, even though it’s a bit insane. Humans are strange after all.

Posted on by CP

Who Are You?

How well do you know the people you love?

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio

After a great deal of resistance and skepticism, I have fallen in love with podcasts. It happened shortly after our second lockdown in Portugal. It was hard and fast and I’m better for having embraced it. Although I love music and have been listening to music while working out for years, I found my long, rigorous walks with music, tedious. I noticed a podcast option on Spotify one day and thought I’d give it a try. It’s been a truly transformative experience. I now look forward to my long walks, choosing which podcast I will listen to before I leave my apartment. Stay with me, I’m getting to the point.

One of my favorites is Modern Love, a New York Times podcast. Modern Love is a column that started in the NY Times in 2004; I didn’t know till now that it was also a podcast. They’re usually about 15 minutes long and nearly always engaging. Essays about love, loss and redemption, are read by mostly famous people. These readers choose an essay because it resonates with them in some way or another. I’m listening to one of these podcasts, and it’s a reaction to a study done where you can meet a potential romantic partner, ask them a set of 36 questions, and then by the end, know whether or not you are compatible.

I can’t see myself participating in such an experiment; however, the concept of truly getting to know a person based on their answers, peaked my interest. Lockdown can be a massive downer if you allow it to get to you. Day after day of the same routine, not knowing the day of the week, wondering when it will come to an end. It has forced some of us to be creative with our time and perhaps even use the time to improve our lives.

As a single man, living alone, I find that if I’m not careful, days can go by without human interaction. If you’re an introvert like me, that could be considered nirvana; but I’m not sure how healthy it is. A friend of mine in Brooklyn, and dare I say, my soulmate, has a similar attitude about solitude. Gina and I have talked about why we enjoy living alone and how we are seldom lonely, many times. But this Modern Love podcast on “36 Questions” had me thinking about how well I know Gina. We’ve been friends for over twenty years; good friends for over 15 years. She is beautiful, funny, independent, probably the best mother I know, resilient, an amazing cook, and she loves me, but how well do I really know her?

We speak via Facetime almost everyday and when I visit New York City, I almost always stay with her. As friends often do, we share problems with one another, hoping for sympathy, empathy, and sometimes just an ear. But there is this 35 year period before we became friends that I know little about. There are also the things we may not share for fear of embarrassment or just consideration; not wanting to bore the other person or drag them into our neuroses. As I considered my friendship with Gina and what I knew or didn’t know, it occured to me that this might be a good time to take our friendship to a deeper level.

May be an image of 2 people, including Christopher Papagni and people smiling

The idea of asking Gina questions about herself seemed like a great way to start. A few weeks ago I sat on my terrace with a pen and paper and a smart cocktail (a term another friend uses for cocktails that are complex and have deeper meaning). I deliberately did not look at the 36 questions from the study; wanting to customize my questions to suit my intention. Armed with three poignant questions I was excited to pose to Gina, I gave her a call.

There are two things I have to tell you about Gina: First, unlike me, she always cares about how she looks, lockdown or not. She has a knack for casual fashion and she knows how to flawlessly accessorize. Second, she is almost always thrilled to see my face on her screen. So she answers the phone wearing a beautiful Channel scarf in her kitchen. She sits in a stool next to her kitchen island, straightens her back, and usually says, “Hello Babe, whatcha doin?” Who wouldn’t want to be greeted that way? Her long, dirty blond hair is usually tucked behind her ears and recently washed. We sometimes have an agenda, having texted one another with reminders to mention some documentary or another. However, still, this is mostly small talk; making conversation.

Gina, I wrote down three questions that would help me get to know you better, are you game?

“Sure babe, fire away.”

There have been a couple of occasions over the years when Gina said, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Trust me, when this happens I am smart enough to keep my mouth shut. Gina is from Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, you don’t mess with Gina. It’s one of the many things I love about her.

Gina was delighted to answer my three questions. After about 20 minutes of revealing conversation, I felt closer to her that day. What I found even more gratifying, was Gina’s delight in my interest in her thoughts. She thanked me several times and she said she’d like to ask me several questions as well, but that she’d like some time to prepare, another thing I love about her.

I’m certain you’re asking yourself why I don’t just marry her? Life is complicated isn’t it? The point I’m making is that getting to know someone on a deeper level is worth the effort for many reasons:

  • We all want to be appreciated
  • Being truly listened to and heard is a rare gift
  • Knowing someone better helps us to understand where they are coming from and where they are going
  • At times we spare one another the pain we are going through; this is a great way to give voice to the things that may be troubling us
  • A beautiful way to pass the time
  • It can be wonderfully disarming
  • There is a chance the effort will be reciprocated, as it was with Gina
COMO DESENHAR O SÍMBOLO YIN YANG SUPER FÁCIL - YouTube

Every yin has a yang, and my relationship with Gina is no different. There are days when I don’t want to talk to anyone and being that we are both introverts, she’s okay with that. There are days when Gina goes right into, “One quick thing before ‘we’ hang-up,” a hint she might be done, and then of course there is the occasional more than one call in a day, but I know that’s all normal stuff, we’re only human after all.

Some fun questions that might help you get started

Resources and References

36 Questions That Lead to Love, Modern Love, The New York Times, Daniel Jones, Jan. 9, 2015.

200 (Not Boring) Questions To Ask To Get To Know Someone Better, Women’s Health,

BY JASMINE GOMEZ AND LINDSAY GELLER, JUL 29, 2020

Question of the Week:

How do you prevent your empathy for the pain and suffering of others, from weighing you down?

Posted on by CP

Human Behavior is Complicated

 

 

 

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Studying human behavior has always been a fascinating pastime for me. I majored in sociology in college and the question was always:  how does the behavior of others apply to me and what am I going to do with a sociology degree?

 

behaviour
noun
noun: behavior
  1. the way in which one acts or conducts oneself, especially towards others.
    “he will vouch for her good behaviour”
    synonyms: conduct, way of behaving, way of acting, deportment, bearing, etiquette; More
    • the way in which an animal or person behaves in response to a particular situation or stimulus.
      plural noun: behaviours; plural noun: behaviors
      “the feeding behaviour of predators”

     

I admittedly spend too much time trying to figure people out; individuals and groups alike. I make the same mistake over and over again; I usually believe people will react the way I do. We all know how ridiculous that assumption is. We’re raised differently, we learn from different people and we all have a different moral compass. If you think you’re more trustworthy or “right” than the next guy, that’s a huge mistake and it’s bound to get you into trouble.

 

Family

Whenever I write about my family, I am concerned that I will alienate or offend someone I care deeply about. So once again, I will not mention names. Except this one time:  My niece Nicole is close to giving birth to twins; very close. This is a very positive “family” happening and from where I’m sitting it appears that all of the people around her are excited for her. This will of course change the dynamic of Nicole’s immediate family and I consider myself a part of Nicole’s immediate family. Because of Nicole’s positive energy and desire to be a mother, the behavior I am observing and the words I have been hearing, have been upbeat and anxious anticipation, “When will they come, what will they be like, and how what sort of mother will I be?”

I am looking forward to the joy this boy and girl will bring to the family. My sister and her husband will be wonderfully loving grandparents, my nephew will be a terrific uncle and my niece will be an exceptional mother. Observing all of this from Portugal will be joyful and sad; sad because I am thousands of miles away. Thanks to modern technology I will be able to have frequent contact and I will be meeting my great niece and nephew in Baltimore this coming December. Although this experience is not new for me, never having had my own children has made having lots of nieces and nephews, very special.

The behavior of family members mattered more to me when I was closer in proximity; moving overseas has helped me put their love into perspective. It sort of always goes back to how being human makes us all different and trying to appreciate where the other person is coming from.

 

Friends

My close friends are all very different and I love that about them. I have not heard one of my friends disparage another one of my friends; this is important to me. They each know how much I love them and they are also aware of how much I love and admire my other friends. It’s been very important to share my appreciation for them and to show them how grateful I am to have them in my life. What I have observed in my friends is respect, admiration and loyalty. I’m not sure it would be fair or reasonable to ask for anything more than that.

I have also learned that when a friend behaves in a way that disturbs me, it is essential to share my feelings as soon after the incident as possible; waiting is unfair. Friends deserve clear communication and a great deal of consideration. Remember to listen. Also, remember to be loving and forgiving.

 

Strangers

When I observe strangers, it is usually through a non-judgmental lens, unless they do one of the following:

  • fail to clean-up their dog’s poop
  • behave cruelly to animals
  • verbally or physically abuse their partner/child/friend in public
  • speak loudly on their cell phone
  • act extremely intoxicated or tripping out on one drug or another
  • display a weapon in a threatening manner
  • publicly display signs of racism, prejudice, anti-semitism, anti-homosexuality, anti-individuality, anti-freedom, hate or disregard for humanity.

 

Internal Dialogue

Here are some of the things I say to myself when I am observing human behavior:

  • She talks and talks and talks and doesn’t listen to a word anyone else is saying.
  • If he leaves that pile of shit on the ground, I am saying something.
  • Why does she wait until the moment she is getting on the bus to take her money out to pay? She’s been standing at the bus stop for 20 minutes.
  • Who does he or she think they are?
  • Why doesn’t he just stay home?
  • Where does this person come from?
  • How can I make it stop?
  • I need to get away from here.

 

Why I Need to Stop 

Just observing human behavior is fun; however, attempting to figure out why people say or do the things they say or do, is just plain unhealthy. We are so often wrong for the simple reason that we cannot be inside someone else’s head; it’s just not possible. Sure you may know someone a long time and their behavior may be somewhat predictable, but people do often surprise us and sometimes the surprise is positive.

What I’d like to more often, is ask why. Why are you raising your voice? Why are you pointing your finger at me? Why are you angry right now? I think if I ask because I’m genuinely interested, the response will enlightening. It’s important to not be patronizing or passive aggressive.

“Rob, I’m not sure what’s happening today, but you seem upset about something; can you tell me about it?”

“Trish, I’m not sure you whether or not you realize this, but your voice is louder than it usually is right now. What’s up?”

“Mike, some of the words you’re using are hurtful. I wanted to let you know that I’m confused about why you are saying these things to me.”

“Sue, what am I doing right now that is making you angry? I promise to just listen and hear you.”

 

 

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Time Out: Taking A Short Break

 

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I just read a piece about blogging (click) entitled, “Why 99% of Blogs Will Fail in 2018.” Not very encouraging. If success is defined by earning money from one’s blog, then I’m not successful. If success is staying on schedule and publishing a blog each week, then I am highly successful. From the get go, I was aware of those in the blogosphere who write blogs in order to become famous or make a living out of it; this was never my intention. The decision to relocate to Portugal was one of the biggest decisions of my life and I know that others out there are struggling with whether or not to move overseas. I made a commitment to myself and others to document my move. In the process of sharing detailed logistics, I found myself dealing with personal feelings only peripherally to the move.

When you decide to leave your friends and family, part with 98% of your belongings, and be a part of a completely different culture, a lot of what you end up feeling are emotions you would have not anticipated. I’m not beating myself or complaining; for the most part, it was all good. Blogging provided a means and discipline for putting my thoughts and feelings in writing. I have kept a journal for many years, however, this is different in that you know that strangers and others close to you will be exposed to intimate thoughts you had not shared before. Loneliness and loss surfaced, along with parts of my life I had buried, and had not fully dealt with. Writing about these memories helped me to sort through the impact these experiences had on my life and how these experiences shaped my decision to live in Europe.

For example, the pain I felt as a child while witnessing physical and emotional abuse in my home, was a lonely and isolated pain. I could not share what I was seeing and feeling with others because these matters were shameful and personal; in truth I am still embarrassed by what I experienced. I kept most of it inside and made promises to myself about my life and my future. Today, I find myself fulfilling these childhood/young adult promises. I shield myself from hurt, I walk away from antagonistic conflict, I reel against physical abuse, and I isolate myself in order to protect myself from emotional pain. The ability to see and think about this in real-time has been helpful in my pursuit of emotional wellbeing. The writing has helped me immensely and I have been told that it has helped others.

Keeping it real and sometimes raw, has a downside. Alienating friends and family members who were a part of my past is a real danger. So far, I have received nothing but support. I have made a commitment to deal with personal conflict privately and I will hold to that commitment. It would be wrong for someone in my life to read about an unresolved conflict in one of my blogs — this should only apply to someone who is no longer with us; hence unresolved conflict. When you have not had an opportunity for closure, you subconsciously look for ways to resolve whatever is still hanging out there.

They say it’s all about the journey and with any luck, I have a long road ahead. I expect there is still much to learn. I working hard to embrace truth and a greater awareness of who I am and who I want to be. Thank you for coming along for the ride. Please continue to share your thoughts and personal experiences.

 

Last Blog Until Sometime in May

I am taking off for Lisbon today and the States tomorrow. Knowing that I will not be traveling to the U.S. very often, and because I may be getting a dog in January, I decided to make it a five-week trip home — the U.S. will always be home. I will be taking a Caribbean cruise with family for my 60th birthday and I will be visiting friends and family in different states. I’ll be traveling up the east coast, ending my trip in Boston. Until the next time . . .

 

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Posted on by CP · 1 Comment

The Afternoon I Went to Bed Certain I Would Not Wake Up

Many have shared their personal drug experiences, however, mine is particular to me. This piece is not 100% inclusive. The two I haven chosen to share are my first and my worst experiences. My hope is that my readers will recognize and heed the dangers of certain types of drug use. You may have to stay with me a bit before I get to the lead; my apologies, I’ll get there eventually.

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I was that rare college freshman that didn’t smoke cigarettes or pot, didn’t drink alcohol, and had never tried illegal substances. If someone had shown me marijuana, I’m not sure I could have identified what it was. It had nothing to do with religion or parenting, in truth, as a child, I had never been exposed to marijuana or any other non-prescription drug. I had no idea how sheltered from “real” life I had been and then I moved into a dormitory (residence hall is the proper nomenclature).

There was so much pot in my dorm, I’m certain that I must of had a residual high fairly often. I was somewhat idealistic back then; convinced that if I smoked pot on Friday night, I would be taking acid trips by Sunday. I chose to stay away from drugs altogether, that is until I met Kim and Nancy. Kim and Nancy were Nursing students in their senior year at UNCC. They had posted an ad looking for a third roommate and by my sophomore year, I hated living in a dorm. I liked Kim and Nancy and they were offering the largest of three bedrooms in an apartment complex that had an outdoor pool. Certain that I had struck gold, I moved in. I have very fond memories of sitting around in the evening in front of the television watching silly comedies; reliving Kim and Nancy’s dating stories and horrors. They often rolled a joint or two and I would always take a pass when they offered.

This went on for months, but I was a bit curious about what it might feel like to be high. You never forget the first time and the first time was quite the event. I was pretty sick with the flu one night during an evening in front of the television. Nancy was practicing her nursing skills on me and frankly, I was happy to give in to her mothering. I was curled up in a quilt feeling achy and coughing my brains out. Kim was not quite as maternal; however, she was famous for claiming that pot was the remedy for just about any illness. She must have offered to roll me a joint six or seven times that night, before I finally caved. I figured that I was mature enough not to allow a couple of tokes to lead to drug addiction. Minutes later I was hallucinating. I’m still not sure whether it was the high fever or the pot, but I imagined two guys living behind my eyeballs conversing with one another about what was happening in my brain. It was surreal, strange and scary; I didn’t go near that shit again for years.

Fast forward to me in my early thirties. I was living in Manhattan, newly divorced from my wife, completely out of the closet, and fairly tired of my ho-hum existence. A new friend told me about a beach house rental share on Fire Island outside of New York City. I finally had some money in my pocket and the desire to live a little . . . perhaps live a lot. It was there that I made a friend whom I will not name. He was not like anyone I had ever met:  he was a little more than 10 years older than me, he was smart, creative, and we really hit it off.

Our friendship led me to one of the wildest nights of my life; hence the title of this piece (I told you I’d eventually get to it). We would sit around at the beach house talking about the old Saint parties in Manhattan’s disco heyday. I was living in North Carolina when these parties took place, but they were legendary. Apparently, there was lots of drugs and other illegal activities. I learned that although the Saint no longer existed, Saint-at-large parties were scheduled several times throughout the year. My interest in experiencing one of these parties peaked and this was the friend who would make it happen for me. I was assured that my drug intake would be minimal and that he would be by my side the entire evening and for the most part, he was. The plan was to get a good night sleep and go to Roseland — the club where the party happened — at 4:00 a.m.

I’m not sure I can convey my excitement. I didn’t eat for a month so that I would be lean, I visited the gym more often than usual, and I shopped for dancing clothes; tight jeans and a muscle-tee. By the time the party came around I was primed and ready for the night of my life. My newfound freedom and sense of adventure had me thinking that anything was possible. I remember trying to take a disco nap, but I was way too excited to sleep. I was showered shaved and dressed by 1:00 a.m. and I had to sit in my apartment on the upper East side and just wait for 3:30 a.m. to come. I took a taxi to the club because I wasn’t sure what the subways would be like at that hour. When I arrived, I saw my friend standing by the club entrance. We embraced and we verbally and physically expressed our anticipated wild night.

I recall a long line at the coat check counter. I believe most people were retrieving their coats, as opposed to checking them. While we were on the line, my friend whispered that he had lost the drugs which were stuffed in his socks. My heart skipped three beats. My dream of dancing the night away was about to be shattered. We retraced our steps in this large, very dark lobby and there they were, on the floor, in the middle of this massive open space. I still can’t believe they were just sitting there in a small see-through plastic bag, for all the world to see. My friend grabbed the bag, high-fived me and we joyfully checked our coats. The plan was to take a tour of the club, purchase some bottled water and take the first of the party drugs in our stash. I had always believed in the importance of having mentors; people in your life who hold your hand and show you the way. Early on, I was very naive and afraid of many things — mostly because I didn’t know much about this world others experienced while most of us slept.

We toured the club with wide eyes. There were multiple levels, several different types of party music, a VIP lounge you could only peek into, and lots of half-naked men. I can still recall a short blast of chilly air each time the front and back doors opened. It was as if I was having the most vivid dream of my life; it was surreal and sublime and scary, all at the same time and I was loving every minute of it. At some point toward the end of our walkabout, my friend turned to me, handed me water and a small white pill and said,

“Take this baby cakes, and drink. Remember to hydrate throughout the night.”

I know for some, this is sounding enticing, but trust me, the worst of it is still to come.

This next part is a bit blurry, but I’ll attempt to lay it out for you. The ecstasy I had taken kicked in at some point and I was feeling pretty happy.  While I was dancing, I saw someone I knew about 20 feet away on the dance floor. I told my friend that I’d be back and he said,

“I’m not leaving this spot. Come right back; I’ll be waiting.”

I found myself dancing with this friend and his friends and it was a blast. I noticed them passing a small vial and holding it up to their noses. One of them put it under my nose and motioned me to take it in; I was curious and stupid and did as I was told. I assumed it was coke, but at that point I was very high and didn’t care. Minutes later I found myself in the middle of this massive dance floor — honestly if was half a football field — and I did not recognize anyone around me. I asked someone where the restroom was and he pointed. Hoping to soon reunite with my friend, I joined a long line of men and several women, thinking that if I didn’t get to a urinal soon, I as going to wet my pants.

It took awhile, but I was finally standing in front of a urinal and to my surprise, it spoke to me. I can’t remember what the urinal said, but I can tell you it frightened me. It may sound funny, but trust me it was not. I later learned that I had done crystal meth, a very dangerous drug. It’s actually a tranquilizer used as a sedative for horses; strong to say the least. I glanced in the mirror on my way out of the restroom and my face looked distorted — I was paranoid and terrified. I went back to the dance floor to find my friend, but he was not to be found. It felt like I was going in circles; I kept seeing the same faces on the dance floor. I began to panic and moments later, my friend grabbed my arm and pulled me out onto the floor. He gave me water and rubbed my shoulders. He told me to keep moving. I quickly calmed down; I closed my eyes and just felt the music move through my body.

The club was dark and the music was extremely loud and time appeared to be at a standstill, except of course that it wasn’t. At some point I looked over and my friend was dancing by himself and the dance floor around him was empty. I walked over and asked where all the people had gone. He replied, “Dear one, it’s 11:00 a.m.; they’ve all gone home.” We decided not to close the club down and headed for the coat check. My legs felt like they were weighted down with dumbbells and my mouth was extremely dry. I purchased water on the way out and drank an entire bottle before we got to the exit. The doors opened and daylight flooded in. I’m not sure why, but I was shocked that morning had come; the bright sunlight hurt my eyes.

I was glad to find my sunglasses in my coat pocket and although it was very cold outside, I was warm and fairly alert. We headed toward the subway and parted at the station; I was headed to the upper east side and my friend lived on the upper west side. I could not remove my sunglasses on the subway because the light was too bright for my eyes and I did not want to be seen. I sat in the corner of the subway car, slouched and paranoid, vowing that I would never do this again.

When I arrived home to my apartment I realized that my heart was beating rapidly and my mind was racing. I had an overwhelming feeling that I was going to die. I had never felt this way before and I was pretty sure I was overdosing. I was resigned to my fate. I started to clean the apartment so that when I was found, my apartment would be spotless. It’s difficult to understand why cleanliness mattered, but in fact, it was my reality at the time. I must have cleaned for several hours, thinking that at some point I would just collapse. I looked at the clock and it was 4:00 p.m. and it had been over 30 hours since I had any sleep. I showered, put on a tee-shirt and my underwear and crawled into bed. Before closing my eyes my last thought was this:  my life has been full and I have been fortunate. I will not wake from this sleep, but that’s okay, I have lived a good life — I swear this is true.

I did not die that day. I did, however, learn a valuable life lesson about the taking of unknown drugs. I was one of the lucky ones. Many, many have been in a similar situation and perished. I don’t believe I am being overly dramatic. I knowingly took a drug without knowing what it was. The friend I bumped into on the dance floor must have thought I knew what I was doing; he was not to blame.

Something like this never happened again and I plan to keep it that way.