Before I go into the theme of my blog, I wanted to report that I was part way through this draft when I looked back to see if I had written about this topic in the past. What I discovered was interesting. In the past I have written about voices in my head I had referred to as “my demons,” this blog about the positive side of voices in your head or what talking to yourself (out loud) might resemble. What this tells me, is that I have moved past viewing these voices negatively and instead, see them as a positive influence.
I’ll be packing for a trip and I might say, don’t forget your bathing suit. I’m not sure why, but it works. I seem to remember better when I put the thought out there in the ether.
I also talk to myself (sometimes out loud) when I feel as if I need affirmation. For example, I might say, you were right to upgrade your cabin for the cruise. I don’t necessarily require an answer; one of the many benefits of talking to yourself.
I haven’t seen a therapist for a number of years, instead I am using other ways to cope; this is one of the ways. I’ll admit that there have been times when I’d catch myself saying something out loud and then responding, that’s ridiculous! At least it’s me saying it and not someone else.
Some of the Things I’ve been Known to Say Out Loud When Talking to Myself
Good morning America — when I see someone who takes my breath away
You don’t know shit — when I’m pretty sure I’m clueless
Take it easy
Keep your mouth shut Chris — hardly ever works
Fear will kill you
He or she is not worth your time or energy
If you walk away from this purchase, will you regret it later
Don’t eat it if you’re not hungry
Just worry about yourself
You must have done something good
Don’t mistake opinion for intelligence
Do what you want to do without announcing it to everyone around you
Stop gawking
You’re the luckiest man in the world
Leave it alone, it has nothing to do with you
Why in the hell did you just do that?
My back really hurts, but I’m alive
I wonder what would happen if I spoke to him right now . . . well that wasn’t so bad.
Stop caring about what he or she thinks, it doesn’t matter
Come to think of it, I say things to myself out loud more often than I thought. Seems to be a good deal of monitoring and keeping myself in check — whatever works.
What People Might Think
Sometimes when we think we are doing something privately, we discover that we in fact are being seen (or heard) by others. The positive thing about earbuds and other devices is that people all around us these days appear to be having conversations with themselves; therefore, you’ll fit right in. The bottom line is, who cares what people think.
Upcoming Travel
Belgium (mostly Brussels) on Wednesday; on to Marseilles in June, then Oban, Scotland in July, and finally starting in October, a long awaited trip to Dubai and Asia. South Africa for the first time in late January 2024.
I checked the weather for Brussels and the prediction is rain for a couple of the four days I will be there. Funny, but I get so much sunshine here in the Algarve, I welcome rain when I travel, the opposite of the way things were when I lived in New York and Maine. It’s interesting to note these changes in one’s life.
I’m torn about a day trip to Luxembourg because it’s three hours in a bus each way. If you’ve been and you have an opinion, please share it. The photos of Luxembourg on line are amazing.
Looking Back
I rarely do this, but I booked a moderately expensive upscale hotel in Pornic (my last trip). I originally had a beautiful Airbnb on a canal, however, the owner cancelled six weeks prior — one of the risks of booking an Airbnb. I booked this particular hotel because I had a drink at the bar last year and I liked what saw. It had a hammam, a really nice gym, and rooms with balconies looking out over the canal and Pornic. I’m going to say it was about $75 per night than I usually spend. I slept really well between the quiet, the excellent pillows, the luxury cotton sheets and the knowledge that I had blown my budget on a fancy hotel — I just had to get my monies worth. Just gotta say, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.
As always, please forgive grammatical and typing errors, proofreading is tedious.
To be clear, none of these dudes are my exes; nor do I personally know any of them. They are merely alone in the photograph, so I used these stock pics here. I also think they are all quite handsome.
“Just because I’m single, It doesn’t mean I’m alone. I have food and internet.”
— anonymous
I would add books and a pet.
I’m not intentionally trying to seem smug and superior about my single status. There is a stigma attached to being single and I’m merely attempting to show it can be a desirable choice.
Why This Topic
There is a lot to be said for being in a loving relationship. For the purpose of this blog, I will not be stating the many known positives. Instead, I will focus on the positives of the single life. Why go there you ask? The answer is simple: I need for all of my partnered friends and family members to know why I have chosen to be single and further, why I want them to leave me be — I’m being nice.
Always the question, “Why aren’t you with anyone?”
A Bit of History
I was born single. I stayed that way for years. I was introduced to a beautiful woman who was pure and good and I loved her. We married and divorced. Divorced because I finally admitted to myself and others that I was gay. I was gay and broken and my relationships with men went sideways at every turn.
After years of trying to make it work with men, it dawned on me that I had to fix what was broken. That is where I am today. I am working on loving the one person who will be with me until I die; me myself and I. It’s not a sad story. In fact, it is a happy story, because some never figure out that there is a path to figuring it out. Some suffer in silence until they suffer no more . . . until they cease to exist.
“I don’t like to be labeled as lonely just because I am alone.” – Delta Burke
Never Lonely
I travel alone, eat alone, go to the movies and theater alone, walk alone, play games alone, but I am never lonely. In order to be lonely, you’d have to either dislike yourself or not have enough interests — neither applies to me.
I can amuse myself with so many different things, if anything, I wish I had more alone time.
The Best Part of Single Life
I finally get to do a list — lists make me happy.
Freedom
My own big bed (I can sleep in the middle)
No arguments with angry partners
No second guessing whether there is love, or if the love is real, or if the love will last
I can have a second piece of cake without being chided for it
Lots of quiet time
An introvert (me) gets to be an introvert
You get to be selfish without the guilt
Spontaneous decisions
More time for me, me, me
I never have to sit in the middle seat on an airplane to please my partner
People invite you for dinner at their home more often, because feeding one is easier than feeding two. Mere speculation.
More closet space
I always get to pick where I travel and when I travel
If you have a life partner, disregard the aforementioned.
The Art of Living Life Without Expectations
The absence of expectations would be a false narrative; there will always be expectations. In this case the expectations are of me and from me, not from another. Yes, others have expectations of me, but in this case I am referring to expectations related to the making or spending of money, achievements, how I spend time, when I wake up in the morning and when I go to bed.
“I used to think that the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It’s not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you feel all alone.” – Robin Williams
A Quick Story
My mother could not stand to be alone. She ended one relationship and started another on the very same day. Seeing herself objectively was not possible and highly improbable. She met a man (not my father), who, like her, could not be alone. They lived in misery tethered to one another for over forty years. The two died only months apart. They might well have loved one another, but it was not a healthy, happy love, theirs was a desperate, codependent love. I learned a great deal bearing witness to their lives; I learned that being alone could be joyous and joyful and that I never wanted to be tethered to anyone. This doesn’t mean I’m ruling out a life partnership.
Upcoming Travel
Next week, a return Nantes and Pornic, France, then Belgium a few weeks later; on to Marseilles in June, then Oban, Scotland in July, and finally starting in October, a long awaited trip to Dubai and Asia. South Africa for the first time in late January 2024.
Being single allows me to plan and execute without having to check with anyone save my dog sitter.
Disclaimer
Sometimes I purposefully choose to revisit a topic without looking at what I’ve written in the past. Circumstances change, I change, the world changes.
I have no doubt some of the other immigrants in my circle of friends and acquaintances, will read this blog and disagree with some of my thoughts and observations. Please keep in mind that this is my experience, not yours.
The Best of Relocation
The weather — I could not have asked for better weather than what I have experienced in the Algarve. We have four seasons, but they are mild compared to what I experienced in the States. Fall is cool, with some (not a lot) of rain and a bit of humidity; winter is a bit colder, however, never below 45◦ (F) after sunset and often above 60 degrees during the day — some rain, but never enough for me; spring is glorious, with an abundance of sunshine, a cool breeze and great sleeping weather; and lastly, summer is dry and hot, with temperatures often above 90◦. I don’t like July and early August; extreme temperatures make me uncomfortable. I also miss thunderstorms, we have very few of those here.
The Southern Portugal way of life — there are certain things that Europeans do that make a lot of sense. The pace of living is slower and less motivated by packing as much into a 24 hour period as possible. Life is more leisurely and less stressful. Lunch is the biggest meal of the day and more time is spent eating it. The abundance of sunshine sends people outdoors. The Portuguese are pleasant, but private. Children are free to play in yards and parks; their laughter fills the air (I live a block away from a large nursery school).
Food — the freshness of most foods is one of the first things about Portugal I noticed and embraced. Portuguese people practiced the “buy local” concept long before it became trendy in the States. The seafood is amazing, and although there is some farm raised fish, most of it is done in natural waters and well regulated for sustainability.
Healthcare — Aging is not pretty, therefore, I’ve needed several specialists over the last five years. I have not been disappointed. My visa comes with a private healthcare mandate and I happily comply. I’m paying 1400 euros a year — a co-pay of 35 euros for a visit to a specialist, whom I can usually see anywhere from the same day to two weeks. I’m impressed that surgery has not been the go-to answer to any issue. If I did end up needing surgery, the out-of-pocket expense would be reasonable. Actually, I did need some skin cancer surgery which cost me 80 euros. Medicines are inexpensive and most are over-the-counter. The only pill I currently have to take is a prostate pill and it’s over-the-counter for 4 euros and change a month.
Dental care is also excellent. I needed an implant a couple of years ago; all-in 1100 euros. I had an implant done in the U.S. for $4,000.
OpenSpace — Simply put, most of southern Portugal is spread out and well planned. There is a bit of traffic during the summer months, but it is light in comparison with most of the U.S.
English Speakers — Although I am struggling to learn Portuguese (it gets better everyday), I am grateful that so many people here speak English. I was at an auto body shop on Thursday and I typed my question into Google translator, showed it to the receptionist who then replied, “Would you like to speak in English?” We both laughed.
I love my gym and for 250 euros a year I can visit the gym up to six days a week from 6:30 a.m. to whenever they close — I have no idea when they close because I always go early.
The Challenges
Smoking and Men’s Cologne — These two things make me crazy. There are way too many smokers here, often making outdoor dining unpleasant. Young men bathed in cheap cologne is a sad realty I will never understand. I want to yell and scream, but I learned that my opinion is not the popular opinion and so I suffer in silence. My friends who spoke would never light-up during a meal.
The Roundabouts — I have two minds about roundabouts. I know that they make driving easier; however, many people have no idea how to drive in them, making them dangerous and scary. I have some thoughts on who the worst drivers are in Portugal, but I’m going to keep this bit to myself.
Taxes — I received a take break for my first ten years in Portugal; an incentive by the Portuguese government for relocation. This being a social democracy with a very different tax structure, I do not know what my tax liability will be after 10 years. I know that I will not be taxed on the taxes I have already paid; however, some taxes are higher and I will be taxed on income the U.S. will not tax me on. I guess I’ll have to wait and see. To be honest, I’m happy to contribute to a system that takes care of its own citizens. I do not see people living on the streets in Faro and there are very few beggars.
Little Humidity Most of the Year — I’ve been forcing myself to drink water my entire life. Summers here are hot and dry and unfortunately, I have allowed myself to become dehydrated several times. This will become more dangerous as I get older. I’m going to have to start setting a calendar reminder in order to hydrate. I’d rather be where humidity is low.
What I Might Have Done Differently
Rent first — I love my apartment, but only after a bit of anxiety and trial by fire. It would have been smarter for me to rent for a year and view many different properties. I recommend that you review your buildings financials prior to purchasing.
Language — I started a Portuguese language course as soon as I knew that I was moving overseas, but I knew very little Portuguese when I moved here. Take a language course just as soon as you know you are moving to a non-English speaking country. Memrise is inexpensive and easy to follow.
Transportation — I went without a car for five years in order to do my part in saving the planet. After experiencing numerous train strikes and unreliable bus schedules, I purchased a car. Life is easier with a car, even when you live in the center of a city. Travel outside of your city requires you to have a vehicle.
Dollars to euros — if you don’t mind checking the value of the dollar frequently, there are times you can get a decent exchange rate. I haven’t been very good at making transfers when the dollar was stronger than it is right now (it’s still better than when I purchased my condo six years ago). Last year there were a couple of days when the dollar was actually stronger than the euro.
What’s Next
I will continue to travel for as long as I can. Travel has been one of the best things about retirement. I am much closer to many of my favorite places and there are several competing budget airlines that help make it affordable.
I am struggling not to overplan and to allow life to be more organic. An almost impossible goal for me.
Trying not to pay too much attention to U.S. news. I’m finding the media’s portrayal of life in the States to be difficult to take in at times. I think I might have a healthier state of mind if I detach a bit more.
I am developing a “go with how you feel, when you feel it” attitude. If I’m itching for some travel, I book a trip. I believe that if I’m suddenly motivated to move to another country, I will just do it. Once you’ve done it successfully, you know in your heart that you can do it again.
Spending more time at home with Paco has been my best plan of action over the past few years. There is a 10 acre park across the street from my apartment that was just recently beautifully renovated. I’m enjoying spending time there with Paco and I know he’s enjoying it as well.
The friends I have made here make living in Portugal one of the greatest experiences of my life.
This overview is not all inclusive. There are the feelings of others to be saved, challenges I have not met, and issues that are more my problem than anyone else’s.
Future Travel
I’m spending a few days in Ayamonte, Spain this week. It’s only an hour from Faro by car and has a lot to offer. After that a return Nantes and Pornic, France, then Belgium; on to Marseilles, then Oban, Scotland, and finally a 2023 long awaited trip to Dubai and Asia.
Will I stay put in Faro or will I relocate once again?
I AM NOT GOING ANYWHERE . . . for now.
Here I am celebrating my birthday in Liverpool last week. This is a Swedish drag queen who was on season one of RuPaul’s Swedish Drag Race. I’d share her name if I knew it. I could go to a drag show in Liverpool at 2:00 p.m.; if I wanted to go to a drag show in Faro, I’d have to be awake at 1:00 a.m. and that’s not happening.
Once again, please forgive spelling and grammatical errors.
"A woman is the full circle. Within her is the power to create, nurture and transform." -- anonymous
Forgive me as I make some assumptions. Everything I profess to know about women, I learned from either observing them or experiencing them. A mother, five sisters, aunts, female cousins, female teachers, female friends, a wife, and many female interactions.
I love women. I love women so much, I married one. Women have always been my closest friends, my confidants, my greatest cheerleaders. I need and admire women. But I am happy to be a gay man and here’s one of the reasons why:
It’s difficult for straight men to be friends with straight women for obvious reasons (see articles below). Don’t make me say it because I’ll get arguments from way too many people . . . of both sexes. If I don’t say it, I can deny it. I can be close friends with straight women and lesbian women. Many barriers to intimacy do not exist in our relationships. For this I am grateful. In many ways, I feel as if I get the best of everything as a gay man. Not my only perk by the way.
Female Strength
They say that women can handle a great deal more physical pain than men and I believe it. As I examine the women in my life, I notice a fearlessness as they move about. There are times it seems as if women can do anything, be it of the physical or mental nature. Of course there are exceptions, there are always exceptions.
The other strength I am referring to is emotional strength; the ability to deal with a multitude of emotions simultaneously — you know, the weight of the world sort of thing. Women often have so many obligations, they cannot just walk away from a crisis or a problem.
Female Tenderness
When a woman touches you to help you feel better about something, their concern for you translates from the heart to the hands. There fingers have a soft touch that almost transmits something medicinal and healing. That’s why if I’m in hospital, I want a female nurse.
Then there is the voice. A woman’s voice when soft, is soothing and reassuring. It must have something to do with millenniums of mothering. There is a reason we call her “Mother Nature.”
The Scent of A Woman
I think it might have been a film title, but I like it, so I’m using it. When women smell good, it can be intoxicating. I’m talking about a subtle, delicate floral scent. When done well, it almost seems as if the scent is following them around; almost worshiping the woman and wanting to surround her. I love men, but this is something a man, gay or straight, cannot pull off.
Beauty
I was recently looking away from friends at a festival. Someone at the table called my name, but I was distracted. One of my friends said, “He must see a hot guy.” The truth is, it was a beautiful woman who had captured my gaze. When a woman has it right: the hair, the clothes, the walk, the look; she will stop traffic — men don’t stop traffic. Beauty is feminine and to be admired.
Sondheim’s (a gay composer) Pretty Women lyrics (partial):
‘Tis your delight sir catching fire From one man to the next!
‘Tis true sir love can still inspire The blood to pound the heartly pyre! What more?
What more?
Can man require
Than love sir!
More than love sir!
What sir?
Women!
Ah yes women . . .
Pretty women . . .
Love
I’ve been loved by women all of my life and I’m certain that the love I have been lucky enough to have received, accounts for much of my happiness. I’m not speaking of the love that takes place between the sheets, although I have experienced that love as well. I speak of deep, empathetic, compassionate, sweet and tender love, that engulfs you and makes you feel as if you are the only creature that matters. This love is glorious. This love is intimate. I understand why so many of us desire this kind of love and spend a lifetime seeking it.
“Knowing how to touch her without touching her, really touches her.” — anonymous
All of you!
In Conclusion
I couldn’t cover all of my thoughts and feelings about women in one blog. There have been five women who have made a significant impact on my life: two were teachers during my impressionable years, one was a friend who has burned one too many bridges (yes women can destroy relationships too), one is still a friend and continues to teach and inspire me, and lastly Ruth Gruber, whom I knew when I lived in New York City. Ruth helped Holocaust survivors leave Italy. She left an impression on me that will last a lifetime. Most of the women who have had an impact on my life will remain nameless for fear of leaving anyone out.
I’ve heard puzzled and sadly confused straight men say this about gay men, “Women are so incredibly sexy and beautiful, why would you ever choose to be with a man?” What these men do not understand, is that it isn’t a choice.
A gay friend said to me a number of years ago: “You know what your problem is Chris, you spend too much time with lesbians.” What the fuck? Don’t listen to nonsense and be yourself.
I love women, gay, straight, or otherwise and fortunately for me, they love me too.
Some Resources I Found Post Writing (Click on Title for article)
Our mind is a glorious thing; tricky, complicated, and untapped. We are born thinking that everything and anything is possible, but as we grow older, the world and people around us teach us to limit our hopes and dreams to the just barely attainable. Why? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we do this to one another? Why do parents tell their children that their dreams are unrealistic and/or silly? Is it jealousy? Resentment? If I can’t have it you can’t have it? Can we who are highly motivated overcome it?
Human beings are extremely complex creatures, making answering these questions near impossible. However, that’s not a bad thing; mystery, questioning, wondering — it’s all good. And the short answer to the last question, is a resounding yes.
The desires for oneself that I’m talking about here can be dreams, but they might also be what you are expecting to accomplish in your life; normal everyday expectations or big longterm plans.
To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go, to right the unrightable wrong, to love pure and chaste from afar, to try when your arms are too weary, to reach the unreachable star. This is my quest, to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far. To fight for the right, without question or pause, to be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause. And I know if I’ll only be true to this glorious quest that my heart will be peaceful and calm when I’m laid to my rest. Joe Darion
Stretching Your Imagination
I’ve been working on this for a long time. I don’t have all the answers, but I thought it might be helpful to share some of the tools from my toolbox with you; oversimplified psychobabble, but an effective metaphor.
Write down what you hope to accomplish. When you put it on paper, you’re one step closer to reality.
Picture what you hope for in your mind. Repeat, rinse, repeat.
Tell people about your wishes. Be careful not to be pretentious or lofty.
Be inspired by what others have to say about goals and objectives.
Set goals and objections with no limitations. Add specific details for “how” and “when” later.
If you are a parent, tell your children that they can achieve anything they work hard to achieve.
Climb to the highest peak you can find (be alone or with someone who won’t mind your behavior). When you’ve reached the top scream what you want out loud several times. Listen to your own words and follow your heart.
Ignore the noise all around you — the “I wouldn’t do that if I were you nonsense.”
Staying power is everything, don’t let go no matter the obstacles.
Celebrate every hurdle.
Success in achieving your goals is a healthy elixir. Let it become a welcome habit.
I refuse to use the word manifest. We sometimes latch onto a word or phrase and allow it to become cliché.
I am aware that nothing that I share is new or something you haven’t heard before; however, I am also aware that a reminder is never a bad thing. Also, sometimes the same thing said differently, sticks.
Upcoming Travel
I will be returning to Manchester & Liverpool, England April 5. Following that, a brief return to Nantes and Pornic, France. Then Marseilles in June, and Glasgow/Oban, Scotland in July. Dubai and four countries in Asia this October/November. Land and sea tour of South Africa, February 2024.
People sometimes ask me why I visit the places I travel to:
I have never been and have always wanted to go.
I have been and I enjoyed it so much I want to return. It’s usually the food that draws me in.
I am visiting a friend or family member(s).
I Had a DreamLast Night
Last night I had a dream that Paco (my pooch) and I went on vacation. The place we visited was dog friendly and they were in every household; most ran loose in the streets. There were many dogs who looked just like Paco. Briefly after arriving wherever it was that I was visiting, Paco somehow got loose and wandered off. Another dog that looked like Paco ended up at my door. I was extremely upset, but people kept telling me that I shouldn’t be upset because I had a small blond dog and that’s all that mattered. I wouldn’t and couldn’t let it go. I walked the streets shouting his name (Ruffino in my dream). I spotted a large pack of dogs running in another direction; Paco’s red harness stood out. I called out: “Ruffino come to daddy (I think his name was Ruffino because I’d been longing for good pizza all week).” He stopped and looked at me and then kept going. I managed to nab him. It was a bittersweet ending, I’m afraid. I woke up feeling that I was keeping Paco locked up in our home, when what he really wants is to be free with other dogs. That guilt only lasted a few minutes. Oh how the mind works.
Thank you for reading my ramblings.
Let’s Get Started!
I took this photo on a hike in Colorado recently. There were too many people around for me to scream out my hopes and dreams for the future; I did the next best thing, I screamed it in my head and you know what, it worked just as well. Limitations are made-up roadblocks we tear down or ignore.
Post Publishing:
A wise friend wrote to me about fear after I published my blog yesterday. Fear is probably the number one reason that people abandon their goals/dreams. I write about fear in an earlier blog. I also omitted money as a consideration. I’ve had some time to think about both of these obstacles and I like where I have rested on this. Anyone who knows me can tell you that fear is not usually a concern for me. Right or wrong, I often charge into situations without much consideration for whether or not I will fail or be hurt in the process of pursuit. As for the other, I was born in poverty. My family didn’t have much money and we didn’t talk about money as an obstacle to fulfilling life goals. I guess in retrospect that is a testament to both my parents. They instilled the, “If you want it, you should go for it attitude.” I still feel that way. Why not try and see what happens.
Positive intentions and thoughts equals positive outcomes; yes please.
Chaos defined: noun. a state of utter confusion or disorder; a total lack of organization or order. any confused, disorderly mass: a chaos of meaningless phrases. the infinity of space or formless matter supposed to have preceded the existence of the ordered universe (dictionary.com).
How many people do you know who are taking anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication(s)? Smoking pot to chill or cope? Drinking alcohol to soothe the pain? Sleeping to escape? Running from pain? Personally, most of the people I know do one or more of the above in order to deal with the complexities of the world we live in. For some, it is a life saver and for others, it’s killing them.
The flip side: how many people do you know that thrive on chaos? They gravitate toward it, create it, or wait for it to happen. I know one or two of these people and I think they know who they are.
Conflict and Chaos are not to be confused — conflict is a disagreement or argument. A state of chaos might be present if there are several arguments taking place simultaneously or if the conflict is random. I like a bit of conflict when it might get you to agreement or some resolution; chaos on the other hand makes me want to flee. I once lived in the center of chaos and not by choice. I now do whatever I can to avoid it.
How Bad Is It These Days?
We always believe things are currently worse than they were before; that’s a common misbelief. I’ve written on the “state of the world” topic before, therefore, I will leave it at this: no doubt the world is a difficult place to inhabit these days, but I would argue that it’s safer and better than it’s ever been, in most places; technology and greater wealth have made it so.
Why Are We Judged So Harshly?
Social media is not necessarily a bad thing; keeping up with friends from all over the world is one of the features I fully embrace. But in my mind, the dark side of social media is having aspects of your life displayed before strangers. With that comes jealousy, judgment, and criticism — everyone has an opinion. Unfortunately, those opinions are related to little snippets of your life; mostly aspects of your life people know nothing about.
In addition, it suddenly seems as if it’s okay to pass judgment on others. Whether it’s about a woman’s right to choose, a drag queen reading to children, the right to bear arms with or without a criminal record, how old the president might be while serving; everybody has an opinion and no one seems shy about voicing that opinion publicly.
How I Know I am Impacted By Chaos
Perhaps growing up in a totally chaotic environment with many sisters and brothers, has shown me that peace and quiet and an absence of chaos is where I prefer to be. My mother was one of those people who thrived on chaos. Living alone with my pet (Paco) provides me the peace I require. I know that it’s unrealistic to think that I can remain inside 24/7, never interacting with another individual or group. I often force myself to socialize and be a part of group interaction. When one of these groups gets rowdy, I run away. An Irish goodbye might even be necessary (leaving without telling anyone — I’ve heard it called a French goodbye as well).
I grew up in Coney Island; full of tourists and the fringes of society. When we went to the beaches, there was no space between blankets; people seemed to like it that way. No judgment at all, just a bit chaotic. As a child I shied away from crowds.
My body reacts to chaos in several ways: I become anxious. I sweat. My stomach hurts. I get a headache. Usually at least one of these symptoms is present; sometimes all.
Not everyone responds to chaos the same way, unfortunately, I become prone to accidents due to being wildly distracted and anxious.
Coping Mechanisms
Turn it off — We don’t always choose to be right smack in the center of insane chaos, but sometimes it just sort of happens. The easiest thing to do is to step away from it. We often have that choice and do not not exercise it.
Steer clear of chaos — easier said than done perhaps. When I lived in New York City, I noticed that there were three or four streets in Times Square that were always congested and chaotic; people who had no idea where they were going, tourists milling about, individuals trying to get tickets for this or that performance, people who love being in the middle of soup. I avoided those streets and now I couldn’t imagine being anywhere near Times Square.
Turn it into something positive — the best way to learn from a situation is to take a step back and evaluate what just occurred. Ask yourself the following questions: Did I have anything to do with the chaos I just experienced? Could it have been avoided? What steps can I take to prevent it from happening again? For example: flying on the day before a major holiday? Perhaps you might choose to fly a week before the holiday or on the actual holiday? We all know airports are chaotic the day before or a couple of days before a major holiday.
Chaotic dreams — I’ve noticed that sometimes I awake from a dream and I recall chaos in the dream I just had. I think it may be a way my psyche is coping with the chaos in my life — a way of sorting it out in my sleep, rather than working through it in reality. I’ve noticed this more at times in my life when I am dealing with several major issues all at the same time: family, financial, plans gone awry, etc.
Making My Bed Every Morning — It’s been proven that having order in your home, leads to greater order in your life. Make your bed and pick up after yourself.
A tip: One of the best tips I learned from one of Queen Elizabeth’s butlers, is to wait at least 30 minutes after getting out of bed to make the bed. We sweat at night. The moisture needs to dry before you make the bed. Trust me on this one.
“Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.” ― Chuck Palahniuk
Upcoming Travel
In a few weeks I will be returning to Liverpool, England. Not for a Beatles tour, but to see a good friend, enjoy a diverse and cultured city, and eat ethnic (street) food. After that a brief return to Nantes and Pornic, France, Marseilles in June, and Oban, Scotland in July. I’m getting closer to my Grand tour of Dubai and four countries in Asia this October/November. It doesn’t seem to be the case, however, this year there is more time between trips and most of my journeys are shorter.
I recently booked a South Africa cruise on NCL. My college roommate and his wife will be joining me. South Africa has been on my bucket list for a long time.
My friend David (I wrote about him a few blogs ago), pastel drew Hanging Lake where we hiked in Colorado and sent this to me so that I would never forget.
The piece is lighter and more colorful than this. I took a quick photo prior to sending it off to be framed. I chose a light orange frame to pick up the gold and green tones. I’m excited to hang and admire it.
I consider myself quite the fortunate one in many ways, but I got especially lucky when my baby sister Debbie came into the world.
Debbie at a year old, I was two
If you currently do not have a baby sister, I suggest you go and find one.
Debs as I affectionately call her, was born one year and 10 days after me. I can’t say I remember the day she was brought home, but I know for certain I was happy. I had two older sisters who were taking good care of me, but I needed a playmate and Debs fit the bill. I know most brothers and sisters have a unique bond, however, what made ours different was the hostile environment we were raised in and how we supported one another . . . and still do. Having one another as an anchor has served us well throughout our lives.
As a toddler, I enjoyed dolls and cooktop toys more than baseballs and bats; Debs had no problem sharing. She was easy going and doughy eyed. I think the thumb sucking calmed her down. She was teased a lot for it, especially by our mom. That part still makes me angry.
Our elementary school classrooms were next to one another for several years. I witnessed her teacher verbally abusing her and I told my mom about it. My mother was a lot of things I did not appreciate, but she was fiercely protective of her children. She went down to the school and reported the teacher and had my sister’s classroom changed. I was proud of her for that.
We were so close growing up that people would mistake us for fraternal twins. As her older brother, it was my responsibility to keep the boys away. Debs never resented me for it; she knew I wanted the best for her. She was shy during her teenage years and sensitive about all things personal. I loved the way she looked up to me.
I was in a very bad car accident when I was 18 years old. When my mom brought me home from hospital, Debbie walked into the house, saw me and wept hysterically. I believe she was imagining what it might have been like if she’d lost me. I sometimes wake up in a bad state from nightmares where something terrible happens to her; I guess we have similar fears of loss. Allow me to stress the happy times.
When she met her husband Lynn, she struck gold. The guy (pictured with sunglasses below) is a gosh darned saint. Together they had two beautiful children: Nicole and James. They’ve been nurturing and loving parents and they have always included Uncle Chris in all of their kids’ milestones. Nicole now has twins, Stella and Ben, and it’s been a joy to watch them grow. As a gay single man, having a family that I consider my own, is a true gift. It’s been fun observing my sister with her grandchildren; she’s affectionate and sweet. And her best quality, she’s always laughing.
Debbie, Lynn and my nephew James are very close. James is a career officer in the Air Force. James is also a talented musician; I suspect this is where his passion lies. Being an uncle is a privileged position in a family. It allows you to experience all the good bits without the inner family drama. I love my sister and her family dearly; however, this is often drama. My guess is that all of the trials and tribulations and relationship dynamics, add up to a very deep bond. As an outsider, that’s the part I don’t get to be a part of. That reality has it’s upside.
One Beautiful Memory
Debbie had just given birth to Nicole. It was her first and the whole family was excited. I had returned home from University to meet my new niece. I walked into my mother’s house and Debbie handed Nicole to me without saying a word. She was only days old and wrapped in a snuggly blanket. I brought her into another room to privately marvel at her beauty. I thought, this magnificent child is a part of me and she will be until I die. I must have had some insight into the roles Nicole and James would play in my life; how family is the most important thing we have and how the intimacy of family is everything.
[Subscribing is free folks! And not all of my blogs are sappy.]
Debbie and her husband Lynn came to see me in Portugal a few months ago; we had a blast. Appropriate “spicy” sign to her left.
Fort Lauderdale (Deerfield Beach) next week, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles — Nantes and Pornic are happening on the same trip, over a four day period. Other holidays planned later in the year. Biggest trip of 2023 will be Dubai, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, and Hong Kong — end of October to mid-November.
I want to be clear that I’m writing this to set the record straight; not for recognition or because I have nothing better to do. Dogs have historically contributed more to humankind than we are given credit for; we all have a story. My name is Paco and I belong to Chris. I don’t like the “belong” verb, but it’s better than “owned by” or “property of.”
More than three years ago I was abandoned and left for dead in a wooded area in Estoi, Portugal. There is not much I can say about my former owners, except that they are pond scum who had no business taking me into their home in the first place. I had a chip that was never registered. I suspect my mother was a stray who either lived on the derelict property or wandered close to it by mistake when she was pregnant with me and my siblings. Some of this is me filling in the gaps — it was a difficult introduction to the world and I’ve blocked the bad bits out.
I’m four years old (that’s a guess) and I’ve survived a lifetime of trauma already. After being left to fend for myself in a place where rats, wild dogs, poisonous insects, and who knows what else, thrive; I kept myself alive and I’m ready to tell you how it all went down. Please don’t feel sorry for me, I’m a dog, having a survival instinct is my secret weapon. It’s a world where humans rule and some of us pets get to help make their lives more livable — our sole purpose. Where, how and when this pairing-up situation plays out, is purely random. We know this at birth, even before we learn to speak.
There are things about me that made it somewhat easier to be paired with a human: I am blond, my hair is as soft as cotton, I am tiny, and my eyes are soulful. I only know these things about myself because others have told me. I’ve heard stories of ugly dogs being put down because nobody wanted them. I knew I was not of that variety very early on — this explains why I prance when I walk. I know who I am.
Still, I was literally thrown into a dire situation and before I could even try to find my person, I had to survive despicable humans and the wrath of nature. I awoke before the sun one morning not long after I was cast out into the wild. Small parasites discovered I was a host without protection. They attached themselves to my body and left me defenseless against their harmful pathogens. As a result, I became weak and unable to hunt for food. I feared my mother and siblings were far away and the wooded brush was my only blanket. Days and weeks passed and I became quite delirious — a state I was grateful for . . . for obvious reasons.
Weeks after the start of my affliction, I wandered onto a dirt road; a shipping container used as a house in the distance. Although it was a cold and rainy December day, I could smell a dog who may have been guarding the property. I approached the container hoping I would be seen or smelled. Hours passed as I shivered in the storm, breathing what I was fairly certain were my final breaths. Nearby voices woke me from my stupor and warm hands scooped me up from the side of the road. Two humans gently lifted me up and carried me to their home. The dog I’d smelled earlier kept trying to attack, although he did not know I was not a threat. I was weak, wet, and tired, and these humans thankfully kept this dog away from me. They tried to feed me, but eating was impossible. My instincts told me that this illness had made it certain that I would perish. All I wanted was to sleep.
A night passed and the humans took me to a place they thought might help. I was starving, thin, weak, and my breathing was labored. A gentle woman examined me and told the couple that there were tests she could do to determine why I was dying. The kind humans had no money, therefore, the best they could do was take me home and hope for the best. In the meantime, they spread the word that they had found me hoping to locate my owner — that would never happen. Some humans view us as expendable.
It must have been difficult to keep that other dog away from me because the humans seemed anxious all the time. They also mentioned taking me to the doctor, but they didn’t have the means. Someone who lived nearby told them that there was a local American man on Facebook looking for a dog in need of a home. This person said that he couldn’t come to meet me for two weeks, but she seemed to think that he would want me and that he’d be able to take me to the doctor. Knowing that I might soon have a forever home made me feel a little better. I started to eat a little and I know that I slept most of the time. The Scots, I believe they were Scots, had named me Whisper and I thought that sounded sort of lame. Still, I knew that I should be grateful.
Time passed slowly and I started to believe that I might die before this man came to meet me. One day one of the Scots answered the phone and it was Chris, the American they’d heard about. They told me that he’d be there to meet me later that day. At least I think that’s what they said.
Indeed, a car pulled into the driveway and two tall men and a woman got out. They seemed excited to see me and each of them held me in their arms. They were nice humans. I knew which one was Chris right away, because when he held me tears ran down his face and he kissed me about twenty times. I was pretty grungy from living in the woods, so I was a bit embarrassed. Before they left me, Chris said he would be back for me and I believed him. The Scots seemed relieved and happy, so was I.
I’m not 100% certain this part is true, but I seem to recall that my first owners (the scum) spoke Portuguese. When I was rescued by the Scots on the road by their house, they spoke funny; it might have been English. I was grateful that they’d found me, but I couldn’t understand anything they said. Then when Chris came to get me, I was pretty certain he spoke English. His words in the beginning made him sound angry, but I later learned that he was from Brooklyn and I’ve overheard his friends tease him about that; apparently Italian Brooklyn men sometimes come off as gruff. He’s a big guy so he can be intimidating. It doesn’t really matter, I understand everything now.
Chris took me to a doctor the day he brought me home. Maria (vet) told him I had a serious viral infection and that because I was so weak and my red blood count low, I might not make it. She said I was about 11 months old. Maria said she would do what she could to make me well. Chris’ friend Michele removed all the matted parts of my coat and gave me a bath. Being that I was matted everywhere, she had to remove most of it, but I didn’t mind. I already knew I was one of the fortunate ones.
My dad is a good human for the most part. I think he travels way too much and he often seems to get upset about how slow things move in Portugal. I know that no human or animal for that matter, is perfect, so I forgive him. The other thing he does that I wish he wouldn’t do, is fool with this little cellular thing. He’s constantly pushing on it and is talking to it and it mumbles back to him. I think he may be more in love with that thing than he is me, but again, nobody’s perfect.
It’s been three years now. Early on we had this government enforced stay at home restriction called a lockdown and it was just Chris and I, all day every day, for a long time — this happened twice. I liked that time with Chris. We would go outside and the streets would be empty. There is a dog park near our apartment and we would go there to run around. Everything was still and it was peaceful. I hoped it would last forever, but it didn’t.
I’ve been deathly ill several times. Aside from that killer virus I had when they found me, I’ve had an operable tumor on my paw, bronchitis I caught from a stray that came close to ending me, and one time we even had to go to a hospital in the middle of the night because I was having trouble breathing. Chris cries whenever I’m very sick. I wish that I could tell him that I’ll be okay and that I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think I could ever leave our home; it’s warm, quiet, and has a lot of soft surfaces. I have a bowl full of toys I play with everyday. I eat really well and apparently the doctor says that even though I could have died from that tick bite in the woods, I am now 100% healthy.
This was during lockdown. Chris talks to with a silly voice sometimes.
Things can get a bit crazy on our street. Two weeks ago a dog that I used to play with, Loki, was attacked by a big dog who got loose from his owner. The dog broke Loki’s spine in several places and he died; the owner was bitten as well. Some dog’s instincts tell them to attack, I was born to comfort. I’m sad about Loki because I know his owner would have prevented the attack if he could. I know Chris would be very sad if that had happened to me; we’re both extra careful now. All animals, including humans, are unpredictable.
I have a friend, Patricia, who stays with me whenever Chris leaves town. She has a dog named Petucha; she’s like a sister (see photo below). Petucha lives across the street, so I get to see her a lot. I’m glad she doesn’t live with us, I like things just the way they are.
I think I might be the happiest dog alive. There are only two things I truly need in my life: treats and Chris, in that order. My dad tells me he loves me a lot; even though I can’t say the words, I let him know, in my own way, that I love him too. Blond and tiny or not, I know that I’m a pretty lucky dog. Lastly, Chris renamed me Paco the day he brought me home; my new name suits me just fine.
I have a confession to make. I’m not proud of it. I wish I hadn’t done it, but it was over 50 years ago and it’s time to let it go. There were eleven children from two different wombs in my family; that’s a story for another day. I was born to please. I learned early on that if I did the “right” thing, I would get the food that I wanted and liked. If I played my cards right, I could count on privileges my siblings were unaware of, and further, it was not my place to tell them. At the ripe old age of 12, I volunteered to do the weekly grocery shopping. With a family as large as mine, door-to-door delivery was necessary and fortunately for us, free. My neighborhood grocery store knew my family; I’m certain they were grateful we were catholic (usually an absence of birth control) and big eaters. You may be thinking that I was a good kid to relieve my mother of this cumbersome chore, but alas, I had an ulterior motive. Each week I would purchase cake and sweets which I did not send home with the delivery boy (always boys — I later became one myself). I coveted these ill-gotten goods and devoured them on the way home. This would explain my pudgy teenage physique. What I couldn’t eat I hid for later consumption. I committed this heinous crime for quite some time; my parish priest was never told at confessional (also for a later blog). Finally, a combination of guilt and excess pounds forced me to give up my criminal behavior. Lighten up, I’m no George Santos.
I’m afraid this was not my only crime. As the eldest son of divorced parents, I was charged with the task of taking the Brooklyn N train to Coney Island. I would meet my father at Carolina Restaurant for family meal (when restaurant staff sit down to eat before service); we spent ten quick minutes eating peasant Italian food and sharing not-so-pleasant stories about my mother and stepfather. Toward the end of our weekly ritual, I’d stick out my hand for the cash I made the trip to secure. Collecting and doling out our weekly allowance was solely my responsibility. I did not take this task lightly, in fact, I saw this as a huge burden. A burden deserving of compensation. Confession #2, I paid myself a salary for my hard work getting each of them their cash on time each every Tuesday, and me, worse for the wear. My earned bonus went toward the purchase of Coney Island confections at the sweets counter under The El: taffy, chocolate covered peanuts, huge colorful jawbreakers, and jellies. I had 20 minutes on the train home to hide the evidence in my belly.
I’m ashamed of these deceptions; however, they mark the beginning of my fascination with all things culinary. My desire to have all kinds of foods led me to a lifelong struggle with guilt, weight loss, and the avoidance of food related lies. It feels good to report that most of these issues are under control. Although this is my first time publicly admitting my egregious wrongdoings, I have come to terms with my past and I forgiven myself. After all, we were dirt poor and my entrepreneurial spirit just needed channeling in a more positive direction. It it my hope that my siblings do not read this blog (I’m certain they won’t actually). I’m positive several of them would hold me accountable and might even go so far as to seek retribution — I imagine years of skimming off the top of their allowance, added up. My parents are long gone; they probably would have laughed about it and patted me on the back–afterall, it was their DNA that got me into that mess in the first place.
“I know once people get connected to real food, they never change back.”
– Alice Waters
Fast forward to college and beyond. As a college student, my school loans went toward buying food and eating out. I borrowed books and used the reference section of the library in order to spend less money on books for school and more money on good food. My father cooking was sublime; his knowledge of food extensive, and so, he consequently, spoiled me for life. I can’t be happy with MacDonald’s or canned beans. Like most incurable illnesses, I cannot be blamed for this affliction. Food has taken me to places I never imagined I would go. Dinners with Julia Child, business trips with Jacques Pépin, curriculum meetings with José Andrés, a lifelong friendship with the former editor of Bon Appetit, Barbara Fairchild, who is one special human. I realize it all started from a series of lies, but they were miniscule lies in the scheme of things. I have fond memories of discussions with Anthony Bourdain, although I never ate his food. My friendship with André Soltner will always be cherished (owner of Lutece in NYC). And 16 years at The French Culinary Institute was the single greatest gift of my life; the marriage of education and incredible foods doesn’t get any better. And as an added bonus, I met a few people there who have become lifelong friends. Not just foodie friends, they’d take a bullet for me friends.
“My weaknesses have always been food and men – in that order.”
– Dolly Parton
The FCI, eating at the #1 restaurant Francescana, cooking without recipes
Why I love Food
My father gets 100% credit for my love of good food. In addition to being a fabulous cook, he also loved food from all around the world. On his day off from work, he often took us to restaurants in our very diverse neighborhood. But I do have a story to share:
I was visiting him in Florida after he retired there. I told him I was taking him out for Chinese food; however under one condition: I would be ordering the food for us (I was a precocious twenty year old). He insisted on knowing why. I was quite frustrated with his resistance; he always ordered the same three dishes and I wanted him to try some Chinese food he’s never eaten. After a couple of hours of telling me I was ridiculous and stubborn, he gave up the fight. I ordered five or six exotic Chinese dishes: shark fin soup, abalone in garlic sauce, fried mashi; to name a few; I ordered a lot.
My dad was open minded, but he liked what he liked and he did not like dinner that night. He didn’t complain during the meal; however, after I paid the check he said, “From now on I’ll pay for my own meal and order whatever the hell I want.” He was right of course; I was an SOB.
It’s a Blessing and a Curse Have you ever gone into a restaurant and found a dish so sublime you couldn’t get it out of your head? Two weeks later you return to said restaurant only to find out the chef left or he’s away for a few weeks or they’ve taken the dish off the menu and they’re not sure if it will ever return or the purveyor no longer carries that cut of beef or it just doesn’t taste the same and you don’t know why? This is the story of my life. Whenever any of the aforementioned happens, I am devastated and ruined for the day.
On the flip side, there are foods and dishes that I love that will never go away for the following reasons:
I cook them.
Many food brands have been around for 100 years.
Brooklyn and all of it’s wonderful ethnic restaurants is here to stay.
It comes from the ocean.
People would revolt if pizza and/or hamburgers went away.
They’ve been around for many centuries (e.g., nuts, rice, vegetables, bread, pasta).
Salt & pepper will be here long after we’re gone.
Fine dining is nice on occasion. I ate at high end, expensive, popular, talented chef restaurants, for so long it became tedious; if I’m going to be honest, I prefer either my own cooking or a neighborhood restaurant with good food. I can’t do super rich anymore; my digestive system just can’t handle it. I’d rather have a nice meal at a good price and take home the leftovers. When I really want to eat well: fresh, simple, and delicious . . . I cook. Cooking is my Zen place.
Then there is the wine — I’ll leave it at that.
Future Travel
Fort Lauderdale (Deerfield Beach) in two weeks, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles, France — Nantes and Pornic are happening on the same trip, over a four day period. Other holidays planned later in the year. Biggest trip of 2023 will be Dubai, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, and Hong Kong — end of October to mid-November. This will be an adventure of a lifetime that has been postponed three times due to COVID.
Co-coaching
I am over two months into a co-coaching experiment I will write about soon. There are two things I want to tease you with:
We sometimes limit ourselves in what is possible due to financial situations. This is unfortunate; I’ve learned there are many constructive things you can do with your life that cost nothing or next to nothing.
Doing a deep dive into what emotionally and psychologically ails you is not easy, but it can be the most rewarding thing you will ever do.
I commissioned Lori Owens Kostiuk, a very talented artist friend, to do a watercolor portrait of Paco. She truly captured the essence of Paco in his Sweet Pea harness. Thank you Lori. If you’re interested in a portrait of your pet, private message me for her details or find her on FB, LOK Studio 6.
“I cook with wine. Sometimes I even add it to the food.”
– W.C. Fields
This was a fun blog to write. Thank you for reading.
Strength of character is what I will be be discussing in this piece. Inner strength; strength that comes from resolve, survival, wisdom and experience. We are all warriors; your authentic self is where your strength thrives.
“True strength is the courage to admit our weaknesses.”
— Simon Sinek
Weaknesses
For a change, this is not about me. Not that I’m unwilling to admit my weaknesses; I have many and I often reminded of them; sometimes by friends and family. Weaknesses are difficult to come to terms with if you are hard driving and highly motivated.
I am referring to weaknesses such as embellishing the truth, self-esteem struggles, needing others to validate you, lacking empathy, shying away from reality, surrendering control, allowing people to push you around, and a few more I cannot think of right now.
Apologizing for everything is seen as a weakness. As human beings we all make mistakes. Most of us are forgiving and willing to overlook unintentional blunders. When you constantly apologize, people see you as fragile and weak. Forgive yourself and move on. Not so easy sometimes.
Strengths
Strengths may be easier to identify than weaknesses. What makes you proud and prideful? What fills you with self-esteem and a feeling of self-worth? What do others admire about you? What do you admire in and about others? Do you stand up for yourself and what you believe in?
Ask yourself these questions, be honest with your answers, and then make notes about what you’re pleased about or changes you’d like to make. You’re in control of a great deal more than you may believe.
What is Appropriate
Being authentic comes at a cost. Unfortunately, strength of character can be intimidating. You have to keep in mind that there are haters and jealous individuals everywhere. These people do not want you to succeed because they know they do not have the wherewithal to succeed themselves. They will work hard to bring you down or stop you from being fully empowered or realizing your full potential. These individuals are insecure and often in a great deal of emotional pain. Unfortunately, there is little you can do to help them, they have to want to help themselves. Do you know people who fit this description?
Weak and insecure individuals know that once you find your power, they will no longer be relevant. As difficult as it may be at times, the best way to disarm these individuals is to disengage. My resolve was tested this week and I am pleased to report that I walked away — practice, practice, practice. The lift you receive from taking the high road is incredibly rewarding.
Standing Up for Yourself
As difficult as standing up for yourself might be, it’s the only way you will achieve empowerment. Empowering yourself to live life with determination, reflection, action, and authenticity. Never allowing someone else to make you do something you do not want to do or be someone you do not want to be. This is one of the key principles in personal fulfillment.
I have watched so many people allow others to control them. It’s a difficult thing to witness because there is very little you can do about it. This kind of growth has to come from the desire for freedom and pride.
I not only have the right to stand up for myself, but I have the responsibility. I can’t ask somebody else to stand up for me if I won’t stand up for myself. And once you stand up for yourself, you’d be surprised that people say ‘Can I be of help? — Maya Angelou
Future Travel
Fort Lauderdale (Deerfield Beach) in three weeks, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles, France — Nantes and Pornic are happening on the same trip, over a four day period. Other holidays planned later in the year. Biggest trip of the year will be Dubai, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, and Hong Kong — end of October to mid-November. This is an adventure of a lifetime that has been postponed three times due to COVID. The extra time has given me the opportunity to truly consider how I want to spend my time in Asia. I do not like long flights; therefore, Asia will not be a frequent destination.
Status Of My Hybrid
Although I’m enjoying my tiny Fiat 500C, a hybrid will not save you as much on gas as you might have thought. I think I might be getting about 10 additional miles per gallon — if that. I guess it has more to do with the psychological benefit; I am after all, helping to save the planet (tongue in cheek).
I am learning to laugh at myself. When you take yourself less seriously, others around you will ease up on you and consequently, themselves.
Never be afraid to stand with the minority when the minority is right, for the minority which is right will one day be the majority. — William Jennings Bryan
Papagni Pages 