PAUL PLAYS FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE - REVISITED

Paul - A Real 'Angel of Mercy'

There is nothing like 'illness' to bring to the fore who your real 'mates' are...

Nothing prepared me for all of the acts of kindness that Paul would show me during my recent surgery and after.

Where do I begin?  For starters, Paul made sure that I arrived at hospital on time on the day of surgery.  He acted as my ears and helped navigate the filling out of forms and passing on information.  Being used to my deafness, he knew just how to get the information to me.  Paul sat with the old geezer before the surgery and came back to collect me when it was time to go home.

When the blood flow from the operation filled the protective cup covering the ear, he changed the dressings multiple times, rang the doctor, fetched more dressings and kept me calm.  He covered the bed so that the blood would not ruin the linen and set up water and pills and other needs to help me get comfy.  Not wanting to leave me unattended, Paul made up the couch in the living room so that he could check on me through the first night and was quick with a wash cloth to clean me up when the blood leaked out and covered me face and neck.  Made sure I took the pills to fight infection.

Paul prepared light food to eat, even though I could not taste it.  More on that later.

Day after surgery, when his vehicle would not start, rang up a taxi to ensure that appointment was kept with doctor to do follow up, and got us back home.

Paul ,is no spring chicken, and has his own problems with a bum leg, so to put himself out for this old geezer was touching to say the least.  I have not known Paul for ages, and being room-mates does not mean he signed on to play Florence Nightingale.  He could not have been more of a comfort and it was all very touching.

This old geezer has had a much easier time of it due to Paul and his care.  Who would have thought?

Just when you thought you knew who care about you the most, something wondrous comes along and makes you realize that you are much cared for in a quarter least expected.  Along with Paul, there has been the dry wit of Alan, along with his prayers, The Big Kahuna with his wicked sense of humour,

This old geezer can be a bit much for some to take, and for Paul to take the time to 'sign' (or some form of), talk loudly and do all of the small acts of kindness, has not gone unnoticed.  I do not know where to begin in my effort to thank.

Since I first wrote about Paul, there have been a few other entries on the blog about Paul.  Some were not kind, due to his drinking.  Sadly, I received word today that Paul lost his battle with the bottle.

Paul was the worst kind of alcoholic.  He drank in bars to have people he hardly knew join him in having fun.  Paul was very generous in bars.  He drank heavy and made sure that all in the bar drank heavy as well.  They did, on his dime.  Barkeeps made a small fortune keeping the alcohol flowing.

Paul would buy the barkeep everytime he needed his glass filled, and pass over a generous tip.

I knew Paul for 4 years.  During the four years, I got to hear all of Paul's stories.  You know the kind of stories, where I lived, what I did for a living, who my folks were, how much money I spent and the people I loved.

Paul knew at early age that he was homosexual.  Paul also knew that being homosexual in rural Nevada was not going to go over well.  Paul learned very early on to hide his true sexual self.  He did that all of his life and only came to realize how heavy a price he paid too late in life.

Like most closeted homosexuals, Paul was convinced that no one knew.  When he tried to beat back the alcoholism later in life, he joined AA and starting to talk about some of the reasons he drank.  He told one meeting that he was homosexual and was shocked when members told they already knew that.  Seems Paul was not very butch when he drank...

Paul got lucky twice in life.  Came into family fortunes twice.  All of that money allowed Paul to visit the casinos in high style.  Paul was a BIG SPENDER.  Follows that the casinos were more than willing to pander to him to get his cash.  They did twice.

I got the feeling from talking with Paul that he resented losing all of his money, never got over it.  Mind, his alcoholism did not seem to be to blame.

Paul started to lose control of his drinking some time in 2013 and it got much worse in 2014.  Multiple trips to hospital revealed that if he dd not stop, life would end.  Paul would stop for a few weeks and then return to the bottle or more a day habit.

I had a ring side seat to just how bad alcoholics get.  Not bathing, not eating.  Complete lose of self esteem.  The filth.

One Christmas I went to visit and try and cheer up Paul.  Paul had been drinking all day and was in the crying stage of the bender.  Paul told me that he envied me.  ME.  I asked why.  Paul told me that he admired the fact that I had lived an open life.  I had lived for me and not others.  One of the great sadnesses of his life was hiding his true nature and never allowing love to happen.

Truth be told, I have made my share of mistakes.  Things could have been different but as a whole, I am pretty happy with life.  It was very sad to hear Paul tell of his unhappiness with life.

Paul drove most of his friends off.  The drinking and his filthy living conditions did not encourage people to visit.

I stayed close to Paul for a long time.  Actually was happy to have place thousands of miles between us, as I could not face seeing him doing terrible things to self.  There were telephone calls.  Telephone calls that Paul made drunk and went nowhere.  Paul just made me sad.

Paul died on July 30, 2015, weeks shy of 73rd birthday.

I will alway remember Paul taking care of me when my ears went bad.  Paul was very kind.

That is the Paul I will remember.  I hope Paul has found the peace he was so desperate to have.

FRIENDSHIP DAY

• "The best friend is the man who in wishing me well wishes it for my sake." - Aristotle
• "The better part of one's life consists of his friendships." - Abraham Lincoln
• "Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." - Helen Keller
• "Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into friend." - Martin Luther King, Jr.
• "Anybody can sympathise with the sufferings of a friend, but it requires a very fine nature to sympathise with a friend's success." - Oscar Wilde
• "Friendship is always a sweet responsibility, never an opportunity." - Khalil Gibran
• "True friendship is like sound health; the value of it is seldom known until it be lost." - Charles Caleb Colton
• "A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out." - Walter Winchell
• "Your friend is the man who knows all about you, and still likes you." - Elbert Hubbard
• "Don't walk in front of me. I may not follow. Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Walk beside me and be my friend." - Albert Camus

Gobsmacked I am.  Received a card from a friend the other day.  Not just any old card, but a "Friendship Card".  Completely unexpected and must tell true it brought a massive smile to my face.

I am not a man of many friendships, know loads of people but call few "Friend".  Has always been like that.

From the very first I knew that this friend and I were going to get on well.  Actually, I took a shine to the person but it required a little work on my part to get the person to open up.  It was well worth the effort.

This friend 'knows' MOI.  Everything.  Warts and all.  My friend still likes me.  Gobsmacked I am.  Truth be told, I like him as well.

I had a huge grin when I received he card and no doubt will be thinking of my friend this day and be smiling all day.

Placed the lovely card on the icebox, will see it when I am having my morning coffee.

IT'S NOT JUST ABOUT 'ME'...

Being 'au fait' as readers of me blog tend to be, they realize that what this old geezer writes about is LIFE.  Life that is seen through me eyes and lived, imperfect at times, but still lived.

However difficult life is at times, one is constantly amazed at how oft the door of opportunity swings open and begs one to have the courage to venture through that door.

Some time back, the old geezer took to the road of life in search of his 'safe harbour', a place where one could knock the dust of heavy times from trainers and collect thoughts and try to find inner peace.  A place to feel welcome and safe.  It would seem that relief from the burdens of everyday life comes at one from unexpected corners.  One never knows truly what lies ahead, round the next corner or in the welcome offered by a new friend in life.

I am lucky.  There always seems to be someone who takes a shine to and makes the journey worth the taking and all the more likely that one will come away with a much better feeling of self and a renewed joy in life. 

If one takes the time to listen to the stories told round one, one hears many a tale that mirrors one's own fight to make sense of life.  The mystery that seems to baffle one is really no mystery at all, the challenge of living life is one faced by more that self.  The trick seems to be to realize that some face the challenge better and come away the better for it.  That is not to say that scars are not got from the battle.

I have met  persons of late who makes me stop and take stock of what frightens me, what holds me back and what makes me feel low at times.  Some have led exemplary lives.  Had a life's work that provided a good living and provided a good retirement.  Most punched ticket in all of the right places.  Paid taxes, cared about community and tried to right what wrongs seen as they travelled down the road of life.

That is not to say that some have not suffered the tragic in life.  Paid a heavy price for being true to self.  Family was not as supportive as one would have liked and choices in who to love did not provide with a union that lasted all of their days.

The wounds received in one's youth tend to be the ones that never really heal proper.  They come back to haunt later in life.  Truth be told, this old geezer knows that all too well.

What should be the 'golden' period of life, is filled with much depression.  One wonders what it has all been for and what lies ahead.  As clever as one appears to be, one tends to think that there should be more.  As if there is still the possibility that days will be filled with the loudness of Christmas and Fourth of July.  There has to be more.
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The battle to make sense of what is now and what one hopes for is huge.  So thick is the smoke of battle that one tends to not see what already has been granted and to appreciate the bounty of it all.

In the past I have banged on about what ails me.  Some would think a little too loudly.  May well be more truth to that than am willing to lay claim to at times.

Whatever my problems, they are not so unique.  All one has to do is listen to voices round to know that we all suffer loss and want.  There are dark days enough to go round many times over.  Mind, one has to remember that the the sun always come back out.  So dark it is not that a ray of light does not brighten the future.

I oft wonder what is the point of life.  There have even been times that the thought of suicide seemed a perfect end to problems faced.  The cloud of depression is not unknown to me.

It may well be that the trick of me life is to be here for folks met who need to realize that however dark the present moment is, there are brighter days ahead.  Having faced so very many dark days, I know that to be so very true.  In some small way it might be possible to lend a helping hand to another in need of bucking up.

Life is not just about ME.  A life worth living is one that shares AND remembers that life lived is not a solitary experience.

I hope that my new friends chase away the ghosts of the past and comes to see the beauty they add to my world, because they have a place in it.

THIS JUST IN

Good friend, Alan, went missing during the Burning Man Event held recently outside Reno.

Wondered why he smelled of burning wood.  Now, a snap of Alan, dancing round the flames has been seen on the INTERNET.  Who knew Alan could be so colourful......

ALCOHOL FREE BIRTHDAY FOR PAUL

Today is Paul's 72nd birthday.  As these things go, getting to 72 is not that unusual, unless you are a world class drunk and have spent the better part of 2014 inside a bottle.

Paul is my friend.  I like Paul. I do not like his behaviour.  I believe that if you are a good friend to someone, you need to speak up when their behaviour is harmful.

For the past two months, Paul has been recovering from his latest visit to hospital for alcoholism.  Truth be told, this was not first visit to hospital due to alcohol abuse.  Having heard all of the lies about not drinking ever again, I was more than inclined to believe that it would be a short time before the bottle was out and Paul was not able to cope anymore.  I will not lie.  I doubted that Paul was going to stop drinking.  I am not totally convinced that Paul will never drink again, but I am willing to promote his current good behaviour and egg him on to put more and more time between he and the bottle.

Presents have been bought and a nice supper at a lovely restaurant is planned for the big day.

With a little bit of luck, we will be celebrating another birthday next year, alcohol free...

ROY DOES JUMBLE WELL

 Thanks to me good friend Laura, I was able to secure a snap of Roy to put with this story of yet another colourful character met in me walk through life.

The old geezer met Roy some 25 years ago.  We were both living and working in Waikiki and seemed to know lots of the same people.  At the time I was running a flower shoppe with a dear friend and Roy was doing make-up and design work in a small shoppe in the same shopping district.

Roy was very different.  He had long hair and dressed like an artiste on a 'diet'.  Came to learn that Roy had had a brilliant past as a most clever design person.  Being more interested in 'art' than cash, Roy was always a little short of cash but very big on ideas.

The best time ever had in fancy dress was due in large part to Roy and his talents.  I had purchased a 'devil' costume and Roy convinced MOI to allow him to do me up proper.  Roy painted me face and neck and hands bright RED, to match the costume and put this black colour, along with a goo, in me hair to make me more devil like.  It worked, I was a huge hit in fancy dress, just wish Roy had told that I would be red-faced for weeks.........

 Time marches on and these days Roy has set himself up in another clever scheme to make a little cash.  Roy has a small Jumble in the heart of Waikiki.

There is always a crush of folks at the Jumble.  Like the old geezer, folks who are 'au fait' with Roy, know that you never know what might be got at his shoppe, the inventory is constantly changing.

What Roy gets from folks leaving the islands is very strange.  Some days there will be massive amount of clothing that no longer is needed.  Folks bring winter clothing from mainland and then toss.  Some items are almost new, tossed due to a gain in weight or just not the right thing to wear.  This old geezer loves a bargain and can tell true that there have been many a 'find' found at Roy's.

There are been furniture, paintings, glasses, dishes and even a real piece of collectible.

Once a week in Waikiki these is opportunity for folks to place items on the road to get rid of.  Roy will work the roads like a mad man, searching out treasures.  I would tease Roy and ask what 'road kill' he had found during the night.  Gobsmacked I am at some of the items he brings back to the shoppe.

Many is the time I have sat with Roy at his jumble and watched to locals and tourists pick through the piles.  Can not tell how many times it was heard mentioned that the jumble brought back memories of a time long ago.  When Waikiki was less commercial.

There is something magic about the little outdoor shoppe.  When the sun set and the lamps that Roy has placed round the treasures come on, it almost is as if the shoppe becomes a smart elegant upscale salon.  Everything in the shoppe glitters under the lights and sort of sways with the gentle breeze blowing through.

One thing is quite sure, Roy is one of a kind.  Another of the more colourful folks blessed to know.

ALCOHOLIC FRIEND WORRIES ME

“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.” 
― Edgar Allan Poe

The worst addiction this old geezer has ever had was food.  I used food to punish meself and to have something to blame my being so unhappy.  I know a thing or two about addiction.

Sometime during the holidays, a very dear friend to me started drinking.  Nothing new in that, this dear friend has a long history of taking to the bottle.  Has endangered his life with the drink.

For the longest time, my friend tried to pretend that he was not drinking.  The signs were all there.  I thought it was time to tell him that I knew.

I went to visit.  I sat my friend down and told him how I felt about what he was doing.

A long time ago, another friend had a problem with alcohol, and dealing with him made me realize that the only way I was going to get anywhere was to be totally honest.  I told my friend that I was not stupid and that I did not like being treated as if I was.  I told my friend, this new friend, that I was not going to try and shame him or criticize him.  I knew that he was not going to stop until he can to the point that the drink was not that important anymore.  I wanted my friend to know that I cared.  I was there for him.  The only thing he needed to do was to stop trying to pretend that he was not drinking.  Stop hiding what I knew was going on.

We had a long talk that night I visited.  My friend broke down and cried.  He told me that he was so very unhappy with how some things in his life had turned out.  He hurt and the drink make it easier to deal with.

I read somewhere that drinking alone in your room was the worst kind of alcoholic.  I told my friend that he needed to get out more that be around people.  I guess he heard that part real good.

Shortly after my visit, my friend started frequenting a bar just cross the road from his home.  No longer was he sitting alone drinking, he now had a bar to go to.  My friend drinks to start the day, he drinks to even out the mid-morning blues, the afternoon downs and the evening of regrets.  The drinking has not slowed.

There are times that my friend invites me to join him.  I do.  Sometimes I will have a drink, but more oft than not I just have a diet soda.  Somewhere in my brain I believe that my being there slows him down.

My friend knows full well that his drinking is not doing him any good.  Preaching to my friend is not going to work and my joining him from time to time is not adding to his problem.  My hope is that he hears me when I tell him not to open up a bar tab.  That he should be careful with people he meets and try to get back home safely.

Most mornings I make it a point to stop by and check up on my friend.  I encourage him to clean up and eat something.  It makes my very sad to see him shake in the mornings.  Even more sad to see that so much alcohol is making him unsteady on his feet.

There may well be some who feel that I am not being a good friend.  That I should call the hospital and have my friend taken away.  It is not as easy as that.  My friend still can turn down a hospital visit.  At the end of the day, it is his call.

Rather think the best thing I can do is to continue to let my dear friend know that I care, and that come what may, he must know that he is and will always be my friend.

SALUTE TO A GOOD FRIEND

I suddenly realized that ... this man... this man...
No one every made me feel like someone
'Til him
Life was really nothing but a glum one
'Til him 
My existence bordered on the tragic
Always timid, never took a chance
Then I felt his magic
And my heart began to dance 
I was always frightened, fraught with worry...
'Til him
I was going nowhere in a hurry
'Til him
He filled up my empty life
Filled it to the brim
There could never ever be
Another one...like him 

And there is more.....

I like him, I really like him. 
Tear out my fingernails one by one, I like him! 
I don't have a very good reason, 
Since I've been with him, 
Cuckoo-nuts have been in season... 
But there's nothing I can do, 
Chop me up for onion stew, 
Still I'll yell to the sky 
Though I can't tell you why, 
That I like him! 

 I like him, I really like him. 
Pluck me naked as a scalded chicken, 
I like him! 
Don't ask me for why or wherefore, 
'Cause I don't have a single good 
"Because" or "therefore!" 
You can barbecue my nose. 
Make a giblet of my toes, 
Make me freeze, make me fry. 
Make me sigh, make me cry. 
Still I'll yell to the sky, 
Though I can't tell you why. 
That I like him

ROBERT AND MOST COLOURFUL FRIEND

Robert and Russell AKARoxanneAKARocky

After many attempts to capture "Rocky" on camera, today was day it all fell into place and could do a post about another of the unusual characters known to MOI.

"Rocky" thinks of self as transgender, a woman trapped in a man's body.  While the dress on this day was toned down, usually "Rocky" shows up at the bus stop bench dressed in a colourful MUMU or an strapless black evening gown.  Can you imagine the figure cut by "Rocky"?  The whole package plus pushing a trolley loaded with extra gowns and sleeping gear.

"Rocky" is born and raised in Hawaii.  At 34, Rocky has never known a time when he was not homosexual and he says that his manner of dress caused much trouble with his family.

Truth be told, when the old geezer first met "Rocky" he did not meet the new person with undiluted pleasure.  I do not do 'drag queen' well.  It offends me.  Right, so that is mean to say but it is the truth.

Over time, sitting with James on the bench, more and more of "Rocky's" story came out and little by little, my attitude softened toward.

Along with being 'transgender', "Rocky" suffers from a mental illness AND does drugs AND is a compulsive over-eater.  With no address, Rocky finds a clear spot in the car park at St. Augustine's and tries to sleep there.

"Rocky" is trying to mend his ways.  Of late, "Rocky" has entered a drug programme and he told me today that it has been 5 weeks since he smoked "ICE".  "Rocky" says that he is trying to get his eating under control but I rather doubt that.  "Rocky" loves his groceries and continues to eat more that needed.

Life is mean for "Rocky" but you would never know it to listen to "Rocky".  will long remember the ringing sound of the laughter that flows out of him.  Even when he is having a hard day, he finds something to get a huge belly laugh about.

The shocker is that I find myself liking and caring about "Rocky".  Right, he is not full quid and he lives in a fantasy world.  Truth be told, have never seen "Rocky" be mean to anyone and many is the time seen him share what little he has with other homeless people.  I know that "Rocky's" dream of being the first transgender president of the United States is never going to happen but if it pleases "Rocky" to dream such Hugh dreams, what is the harm.

In a perfect world there would be a special place for folks like "Rocky".  Sadly, it is not a perfect world and no one seems to care that life is mean for folks who do not fit in.

'I AM THE MASTER OF MY FATE, I AM THE CAPTAIN OF MY SOUL'

Early Monday morn, Jay, an out-reach worker for vets from IHS, came by the bus stop bench that James sleeps on.  His mission was to pick up James and take him to IHS and place him directly in contact with folks who are capable of finding solutions to problems faced by homeless vets.  The old geezer tagged along...

From the start, Jay tried to establish a rapore with James and that meant using a less formal form of address.

James got to meet several people who are in the business of trying to get vets off the street and into a more secure setting.  There was plenty of information giving out and there were options placed in front of James.

James listened to all and even gave out very personal insights as to why he might be in the situation he is in.

I listened very hard to what James had to say and came away from the trip to IHS with a better understanding of James and a better understanding of myself and my motives for wanting to better James' situation.  Truth be told, the whole experience made me face some basic truths about James and myself.

Like James, the old geezer carries 'baggage', some of which is very old and not likely to be thrown off.  The 'baggage' has to come define who I am.

James has a special relationship with another person, one that helps define him and gives him purpose to life.  Regardless of how strange the relationship might be, or how mean that relationship causes his life to be, that relationship is non-negotiable.  James is not prepared to break off ties.  The person is very important to James.

James' relationship with his friend made me think about the special relationship had with John so many years ago.  John, like James, was told over and over again that my being in the picture was not acceptable to his friends or family.  I was damaged goods.  My past was not one that suited a person like John.  John should cut me loose and be the better for it.  Like James, John felt that our relationship was non-negotiable.  I was a part of his life and that was just the way it was going to be.

There was nothing horrid about me, just the general 'unsuitability' of me.  I was not wealthy and was too loud in my purpose.  The causes promoted were not fashionable and truth is not always received well.

I had to confess to James that I was guilty of not listening to him in the past.  I refused to accept that James had the right to live his life in the manner he wanted and not as I viewed his living his life.  James is no fool, is well aware that his situation is mean and that it will remain so unless some things change.  James never asked me to push as hard as I did to get him off the street.  James never tried to work the system.

James knows himself rather well.  More to the point, James sees himself in the bright light of day and does not feel that he has to apologize for anything, least of of who he is.  James has taught me how to deal with life better.  Truth be told, every day James gives me the courage to face life fully and to not complain.

IHS and the folks who toil there are well meaning.  They have a plan, 'their plan', a plan that may not work for all but it is the only plan they have in play.  Jay and IHS have all of the answers for folks who fit the profile they are most 'au fait' with.  It works well, for some.  I understand well that James may well feel that what was offered, and there was much offered, is not 'right' for him.

Some years back, when this old geezer felt himself at the end of the road, totally without hope and little desire to carry on, he too made the trip to IHS and tried to get a helping hand through dark days.  It will remain forever remembered as one of the worst periods in life.  That the period only lasted for a few weeks, is due only to my coming to senses and realizing that it was 'I' who gave up on 'me', not the friends had.  Once the shame of being down and out was dealt with and talked openly about, there was a place for me to go to and my life would go on.  I thank God that IHS is not an option for me, nor would it ever be.

James is going through a hard patch due to health problems.  There is hope that his health will not get worse and that he will be able to do what he has always done, LIVE, on his terms and under his own steam.

Jay, the out-reach vet worker at IHS, kept reminding the old geezer that regardless of the rank reached or past brilliance of the life James had, he was no more special than any other vet that came in the door looking for help.  That may well be.

To me, James is bloody brilliant.  He punched his ticket in all the right spots during his journey through life.  I am in awe of all that he has given and achieved during his 40 odd years of service to America, be it in the military or as a park ranger.  James is very important.  I value my friendship with him and am in debt to him for helping me face life and the challenges faced with more courage than before.  James makes me a better person.

It is no chore to spend time with James.  I look forward to each morning.  I will still worry about his health.  I will still be bothered by his housing situation.

The answer to James and his situation was in front of my face all along.  I understand now that loving James as a friend has to come without judgement of his friend or the manner in which he lives his life.

I can do that...

LAURA IS A LOT OF ALOHA

Laura's Massive ALOHA

Did one ever doubt that the old geezer knew folks who were 'larger than life'???

The snap featured is of my lovely friend Laura, sister to another person known to.  To say that there is a story to tell would be putting it mildly.

I first met Laura some years back when she was in hospital fighting a nasty infection.  Laura is a massive woman and required a very large hospital bed.  Although she had been in hospital for some time, Laura was quick with a laugh and seemed delighted to have met another new person.  I remember we chatted for some time and then I left, not to come upon her for a number of years.

Waikiki is a small place and it was only a matter of time before I would run into Laura again.  Laura is a wee bit crazy when driving herself round in her mobility chair and it was at one of her brother's famous 'yard sales' that we re-connected.  Laura has lived in a small flat just blocks off the beach for years.

What started out as a kindly gester to visit one trapped in a mobility chair and living alone, turned into on-going visits that were a source of cheer to both Laura and me self.  Truth be told, Laura can be quite entertaining.  Laura is well read, surfs the Internet on her mobile daily and loves to watch reality shows on the telly.  Add a rather colourful life lived and you have endless hours of chin wagging to do.

The snap of Laura on the beach is a bit dated.  Laura is so much larger today.  At 4'10", Laura weighs in at near 400 pounds today.

The old geezer has had his problems with weight.  Bloody hell, at the largest, it was over 400 pounds for my frame as well.  Fat, for the old geezer, came late in life, but it was still a huge burden to carry.  When the lamp came on to take off the fat, it was over time and due in large part to a complete change in the way groceries are viewed. 

Truth be told, Laura's weight repulsed and frightened me.  So unsure of being able to keep the same thing from happening to me again.  I said some rather unkind things to Laura about her weight.

The odd thing about friendship is that it either overcomes the negative and grows into something beautiful of withers up and dies as a weed.  My ever growing friendship with Laura has allowed me to accept Laura just as Laura is.  Most of my willingness to see Laura is a positive light is due in no small measure to the sort of person Laura is.

Plagued by multiple health problems, Laura has still continued to find beauty in her world and to add love to it.

Laura took in a rabbit that no one wanted.  The old geezer thinks the rabbit looks evil, with one dead pink eye looking at one.  Laura loves the rabbit and cares not a fig that the rabbit is odd looking.  Laura took in a guenia pig that no one wanted.  Then there is FEBE, her rather large and very weird dog.  FEBE has a tail that wags so hard that when one is hit with it, it feels like whiplash.

Then there are the cats.  6 living in the flat and one male cat that wanders the neighbourhood feeding from one and all.  Did I not mention in the past that I loathe cats?

Laura plans her day round the needs of her pets.  Feeding, watering and cleaning up after is a very complicated process that takes hours of her day.  It is Laura's labour of love that she performs without complaint each and every day.  Laura loves her animals and in turn the love Laura unconditionally.

I adore Laura.  Like the old geezer, Laura is not without baggage, can be rather hard to take at times.  At the end of the day, Laura has a heart full of joy.  She still wants desperately to believe that folks have value, even the ones that have shat on her in the past.

Laura lives on a small social security check.  A good part of that small check goes to feed and care for her 'family'.

Laura is very clever.  She knows that the weight is not healthy.  Like I said, Laura loves her groceries.  So comfy am I with my ability to deal with food, is no longer bothers me that Laura eats more than required.  Some think of the old geezer as an enabler.  I do go to market and get food for Laura.  If I did not, someone else would.

Whatever faults Laura has, does not negate the fact that Laura is a very loving person and tons of fun to be with.  Truth be told, Laura keeps the old geezer so amused and depression is not a constant companion of late.

Laura's brother is having another one of his 'yard sales' today.  Rather think the old geezer will have to go and see of there are any items of clothing for Laura.  You never know what you will find.  Gobsmacked I have been in the past to come on items Laura was able to transform into a serviceable MU MU.

There you have it.  Another look into the world of Robert and the different sorts of people one meets in the walk through life...

BUFFET IS A BUST

After much badgering, the old geezer got Alan to take to a buffet.  The thinking was, at least on my part, the the wide selection of food would provide a change to the rather bland diet followed these past two months.

Alan is ever so clever.  He knew that a buffet would be a bust and tried to talk MOI into some sort of different dining experience.  The old geezer's mind was made up and nothing was going to change the plan.

The Peppermill Casino has a rather lovely buffet, and with 'comp' dollars to spend, it was not going to be an expensive meal.  The old geezer was ready to dive in...

Sadly, walking round the many offerings did little to excite the palate.  Chicken has become too dry to deal with, pizza boring and most meat held little appeal.  Slowly, the plate had some items added.  There was a little tomato salad, a few Swedish meatballs, and a bit of fish.  There was also a bowl of bean soup.

With effort and no taste, the food was tried.  Feeling put out by the lack of enjoyment, another trip to the counter was made.  The choice of some pork was huge mistake.  Was right depressing...

Alan on the other hand tucked into his meal with gusto.  There is nothing wrong with his taste and he cleaned off his plate.  Alan was looking forward to a visit to the desert island and he made sure that he filled his plate.  There was a wicked looking chocolate desert, a mouth watering slice of cheese cake and other pastries.  Alan told MOI that he was a bit off groceries, as he did not completely finish all of the deserts.  Mind, the plate looked licked clean when he was finished.  The old geezer had some slices of watermelon.  No taste but it went down well...

Were that it be true, the snap featured would have been grand.  Walking out of the buffet was not with much effort, as the old geezer did not eat much.  One the other hand, Alan seemed to be in another place, with the look of total satisfaction on his face.  Went so far as to tell MOI that the Peppermill did not lose any Cash on him that night.  Too right...

My diet is rather plain.   Lots of soups and dry sandwiches with a few micro meals.  The trip to the buffet was an attempt by the old geezer to add a little zest to meal time.  It did not work out that way.  The trip left MOI more than a little depressed.  What I would not give to be able to taste some of the foods was mad for in an earlier life.

It was a pleasure to break bread with Alan.  He tries to add a little spice to me boring life.  Just know now that meals will have to be less complicated in the future.  Pray forgive the old geezer his depression over food taste loss.

NEW FRIEND FROM GLASGOW

Robert
I am a 32 year old Scottish, deaf, gay man.  I came across your blog some time back and find myself returning often to see what the bizarre nutter from across the pond is up to.  I find myself having a good laugh more oft than not and think of you as a nutter in the nicest of ways.  Having been deaf from birth, am sure that losing hearing after a lifetime of sound must be very hard to deal with.  I think you are dealing with it very well and hope that you continue to do so.  I admire your courage and positive attitude.  Feels a bit strange to be sending you a mushy fan letter but for some time have wanted to contact you and let you know that you have a friend in Glasgow.  Is it alright that I consider you a mate of mine?  Have you learned to sign? I am on skype and would be happy to chat with you, or teach you how to sign so that we could chat.  You have a very open and readable face and think it would be rather easy to teach you and have very interesting conversations.  Knowing that you like to get unusual bits in the post, have sent you this offering about Scottish Friendship, hope you get the meaning of without feeling put upon.  Have sent you an invite to skype with, when you get ear sorted out and want to spend time chatting again.  I feel a bit silly about writing but want to let you know I would like very much to get to know you better.  Another reason I took to your blog is that we share the same name, Robert, a good name to have in Scotland.



1. When you are sad – I will help you get pissed and plot revenge against the bastard who made you sad.
2. When you are blue — I’ll try to dislodge whatever is choking you.
3. When you smile — I know you’re thinking of something that I would probably want to be involved in.
4. When you are scared — I will take the piss out of you every chance I get until you’re NOT.
5. When you are worried — I will tell you stories about how much worse it could be until you STOP WHINING!
6. When you are confused — I will try to use only little words.
7. When you are sick – Stay the hell away from me until you are well again.
I don’t want whatever you have.
8. When you fall, I will laugh at you, you clumsy arse,
but I might help you up.
9. This is my oath…. I pledge it to the end. ‘Why?’ you may ask;
Because you are my friend.
Friendship is like pissing your pants, everyone can see it, but only you can feel the true warmth.


“Taking the piss” out of someone means teasing them.
Piss is important. When you hear the word a lot, you’re no longer in England; urine Scotland.


The old geezer is very touched by the email received from a reader.  One can never have too many friends and this chap sounds as if he might be brilliant to know.  Mind, the offer to learn how to sign is most generous and would come in handy down the road.  Never thought of using skype to sign but can see how it would work.

What the email proves is that me blog has opened up a huge world to.  There be some who think spending so much time on is a total waste and one never actually meets 'real' people.  What a load of tosh that is.

HOMAGE TO ANGIE - TREASURED FRIEND

My dears, there are real treasures received in the old geezer's email box.  The other day one such treasure landed in me box and MOI would like to share it with all of me lovely mates on this blog.

Firstly, one has to do this proper.  The lovely gentlemen of the orchestra have been alerted and would like to offer up this filmed bit on YOUTUBE for you to listen to as you read the email received and my reply.

Hello Rob, Glad to see you are being well taken care of before and after surgery. I want to apologize for contacting you again, I know it brings up horrible feelings from the past. I know there is no fixing, well I can't even call what you all have a family. I wish you well and hope you can be happy, I will still check and follow your blog but will give your wish and leave you alone.

Angie

My reply;

Angie

Your email only proves the point that you are indeed a very lovely lady.

I harbour no desire to try and make a 'family' out of thin air. What is the old saying, 'it helps to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, if you have a silk sow'...

I rather think that you have given your husband a rare gift, one that he deserves. More's the pity that you did not arrive on the scene so much earlier in life.

I am going to get well and who know's what wondrous adventures await me down the road. That is what keeps me going, the gifts of friendship and love yet to come. Too oft, in dark days, a brilliant ray of sunshine has come out and made me realize that life is worth the living.

I very flattered that you follow me life and hope you continue. While we may never be 'family', we can still be friends.

Never fear, dear lady, I am happy.

Robert

The last bit of music offered up is a homage to Angie.  Angie is my sister-in-law, married to me long lost brother she is.  Angle has a real desire to build 'family', to her, it is very important and a part of her being.  God Bless her.  Like all of you who give a peek into me life, I rather think of here as 'friend', the very best kind.  Not only is the old geezer flattered by her interest, but treasure her as do I all of my 'family' on the blog.