Centexfarmer - Archived Blog Posts

[Centexfarmer]

Many of you may have noticed that I removed the 36 part "short story" that I posted here.

No special reason, other than I plan on finishing it this summer once the crops are in, and it's too hot to do anything else.

If someone was in the process of reading it, and didn't get finished, just drop me a PM and I'll send you the rest of it. Just tell me where you left off.

I've recieved several PM"s from many of you wanting to know where I've been, and what I've been up to, I've just been busy. Busy quiting smoking, going to the gym, working out, and work working, and working on my farm.

I love JUB, and I've made some really good friends here. I'll be in touch, so please do the same.

 

[Centexfarmer]

A couple of weeks ago I ran into an acquaintance of mine. It’s been nearly two years since I saw him last, and he was competing in a local karaoke contest. He appeared to be genuinely excited to see me. He said:

“I’m so glad that you’re here. I was thinking about calling you.”

The karaoke contest was traveling from different “gay bars” throughout Dallas to find a $3,000 winner, and a representative for Dallas’ Gay Pride Parade in September.

I told him:

“The last time that I saw you we swapped cell phone numbers and we were supposed to go out for a date. You never called, and never returned any of my calls.”

“Well,” he said, “now that I know that you’re single. I’ll call you now.”

We met a few days later at a bar that “the straights think is gay, and the gays think is straight.”

After several drinks he told me, “I have to tell you that the night that I fell for you was the night that you gave me your, you settled speech.”

I grinned remembering that night, and that monologue. It wasn’t so much a speech, as it was a recanting of an experience that had happened several nights before.

New Year’s morning 2005 I was a house guest of some friends of mine in Oak Cliff, Texas. We had already celebrated and brought in the New Year, and I was asleep in their guest room. The local neighborhood bar had closed and the party had moved to their house. The next thing that I know there was this guy, who I had never met, sitting on my bed bitching about his “husband.”

I sat up and turned on the light and asked him what he was talking about. He told me that he and his boyfriend had been together for sixteen years, and that he now felt like his relationship was falling apart and that there was nothing that he could do about it.

I asked where he lived, and what type of house they had, and if they had any pets, and what kind of cars did they drive, and who took care of what. He told me of a “marriage” that any straight couple that I knew would be proud and happy to have. He told me of how he felt that they had “grown apart sexually,” and that neither was interested in therapy anymore, and that they had decided to “let things happen.”

I mentioned that I didn’t think it right for one person in a relationship to feel free to make the other person miserable while they were obviously out there having fun, while the other was sitting on a bed depriving a stranger of sleep whining about how things weren’t working.

At that point he started dogging his boyfriend of sixteen years for all of things that HE did that wasn’t right, and how much of a so and so his boyfriend was for “allowing things to get this far.”

I was tired.

I looked at this attractive late-thirty-something guy sitting on my bed and said, “You’re the problem in that relationship, not him.” He was babbling on when he finally heard what I said and looked at me and replied, “Excuse me?”

“You Settled,” was my response.

It was obvious that he had been looking for some type of an answer or explanation, and he very quietly asked me, “What do you mean?”
I responded:

“You settled. You wanted your parent’s relationship. You wanted Ozzie and Harriet, Ward and June Cleaver, hell possibly even Gomez and Morticia, and you got it! You have the house in the burbs; the white picket fence, the Jack Russell children, the Corian counter tops, and Crate and Barrel accents. You have the Volvo in the driveway, and the Mazda Miata, and joint checking accounts. And now you have the philandering husband. Why on God’s green Earth are you in here, in my room bitching about your sixteen year marriage? Where is your husband? Where is your boyfriend that you’ve built this life with over the past sixteen years on the first day of the New Year? You settled! Take some responsibility, and stop blaming him for ever damned thing that’s wrong with your life.”

This guy, who I had never met, sat there at the edge of my bed and thought about what I had said. After a few moments he replied, “No one has ever put it to me like that. I have a stake in this too. I’m not happy, and it’s about damned time that I start raising the bar. If he wants to piss everything away, then I’ll be the bitch that takes his ass to the cleaners!”

I raised my fist in solidarity and said, “You go Helen Ready! I am Woman hear me Roar!”

He smiled, kissed me on the forehead, turned out the light and left my room. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

I laid there in bed for a few moments wondering where what I had said had come from.

For weeks after that encounter I was proud of myself for what I had said, and for months more had justified my feelings that I had never “settled.”

This was the speech that my date was talking about; the same speech and story that I had shared with him while he was having similar relationship problems that my uninvited guest in my room was having.

I informed my date that my “speech” was merely the beginning of a process and not the ending. That I realized that most of my relationships have never lasted more than three years, and that it appears that (thankfully) no one has ever settled for me. I wanted more!

He looked at me, smiled and said, "I got that, and so do I."

My acquaintance, my date, and now my friend have just completed our third date over the Fourth of July weekend. I’ve ran him through some tests that us older guys tend to run when we meet someone new, and since he’s about the same age as me, he’s ran me through some tests of his own. I think that we “get each other.” So, we’ll see what happens.

 

[Centexfarmer]

It rained July 3rd, 2006. It was an awesome experience. It had been hot all day, and then suddenly the wind began to blow out of the north-west, and the sun went behind the clouds. I had not seen rain on my farm in over a month.

As I wrote in the previous blog, I agreed to began dating an acquaintence of mine. I had invited him down for the weekend, just the two of us, for what would amount to a fourth date.

We had been eating watermelon and cantaloupe fresh from my garden, drinking wine, and watching movies. When I noticed that the weather was changing outside, I couldn't wait to get out in it.

He was talking away, and I finally managed to get his attention when I said, "Hold that thought," as I put on my shoes and headed for the door. "Where are you going?" He asked. "Come and see, " I replied as I headed out toward the garden.

Near the garden gate I stopped, closed my eyes, and could feel the energy in the air beginning to change. I looked up, and directly above me the clouds were beginning to swirl. Grey and white they looked as if they were coming right toward me. My date for the weekend came up behind me and hugged me. "What you looking at?" He asked. I just pointed up to the sky.

He shuddered as if he had just gotten a chill and asked, "Shouldn't we be getting back inside?" I smiled and said, "No. Wait."

The wind near the ground stopped for just a second, but the clouds above our head kept moving.

There was no lightening, just the movement of the clouds which were beginning to look more menacing by the second.

He held me tighter and said, "We're going to get wet."

Within what seemed like an instant it felt like the temperature dropped a good ten degrees, the clouds begin to swirl, the wind changed directions, and I felt a drop of rain hit my arm.

I could feel my date begin moving us closer toward the house as he continued to hug me from behind. We got half-way between the house and the garden when huge drops of rain began to fall. "Wait!" I said, "here's the best part."

At that moment the wind became more violent, and the rain went from big drops to a heavy mist in just seconds. All the while I continued to watch the clouds above us.

My date was shivering now, and I turned to see that he was wearing my sandles, and nothing more than a pair of cut-off bluejeans. I smiled from ear to ear, and said, "You'll catch the death of cold dressed like that out here!"

He looked at me and said, "This is the first time I've seen you really smile since we've been going out together." He smiled and continued to hold me as I watched the rain. "He totally gets this," I thought to myself. "He gets why this is so exciting to me."

After a few moments though, I realized that he was beginning to use me as a human rain-coat. So I motioned that we should go back inside. Which he did without waiting for me. He did have a towel waiting for me when I walked through the door.

I began toweling off my hair as I walked to the bedroom to change clothes. I wasn't aware that he had been following me until I reached my room. "Is it okay if I make love to you?" He asked.

I looked over at him as I was taking off my shorts and asked, "Don't you think it's a little too early in our relationship?" He walked over, smiled, gave me a kiss, and immediately went down on me.

"Well, that answered that question." I said as I felt the warmth of his mouth swallow me.

It felt great, but emotionally I just wasn't there yet.

A few weeks later we were at his place, and before the weekend was up, he had me back in bed again. Actually he had fallen asleep on the sofa, and began snoring, so I went into his room to nap. I awoke with him blowing me again.

I thought, "Well, get into it. Get involved in the action." When I reached down to join the party, he was as limp as a dish rag.

I fell back into the pillow and let out a sigh. He stopped long enough to look up at me and ask, "What's the matter?" I looked down at him and said, "Tell me again why we're doing this?" All he could say was, "I don't know."

The week that followed we played phone tag nearly everyday, with more than a few days where we never made contact at all.

We finally made contact again, and he agreed to join me for happy hour, and dinner.

In the middle of drinks, and to his credit, he asked, "What's wrong with us?"

I smiled, told him how much I like him; his passion for life, his love of children, his passion for his career, but that in my mind WE weren't an US yet.

At that point he commented that his ex had left him in debt, and that he couldn't afford to actually "date" anyone. He knew that I was in the same position, and therefore thought that I would understand.

I smiled and said, "But yet this is all that we do. We sit at your house or mine talk, drink, and eventually we're having sex. We're acting like a couple of guys who've been together for years. There are other things we could do, but your work gets in the way. I work weeks, you work weekends. I want to work on the friendship part, let the love just happen, and you seem to want to rush into things."

He looked at me, gave me a smile and a kiss and said, "I'll settle for the friendship."

With that we left the bar, had dinner, and haven't spoken to each other since.

 

[Centexfarmer]

During the first few hours of the morning of 9/11, I knew that something was going on in New York and in Washington. I didn’t have any direct media access; no radio, no television, just phone calls from friends, and the expressions from people that I was working with who did have access to television.

After finding out the event that I was working had been canceled, I loaded up by box truck and headed back to the company warehouse. I remember that there wasn’t much if any music being played on any of the local radio stations in Dallas, just a group of disc jockeys trying to determine what was going on.

It was still early morning, and I was looking for any signs of air traffic since I saw first hand that the D/FW Airport appeared to be shut down. I also remember keeping my eye on the Nations Bank building, the tallest building in downtown Dallas.

When my truck arrived back at the loading dock the usual group of guys, some friends and coworkers, weren’t at the dock to help me unload. My friend and coworker Mark and I got out of the truck, and went inside.

Everyone was standing before a 60x90" screen that someone had set-up in the A/V equipment service area with national news being broadcast of the replay of events that had taken place in New York City, and Washington, D.C. less than hour before.

That was the first time that I saw for myself, the collapse of the south of tower of the World Trade Center.

I instantly began to choke back the tears at what I was seeing. My friend Brian came up to me and asked if I was all right. With tears welling up in my eyes I looked into his and just shook my head no.

My supervisor, who knew that I had once lived several blocks from the World Trade Center and had friends working there, came up and took my clipboard and said, "You and Mark take the rest of the day off. I’ll have the guys unload your truck for you." I couldn’t believe what I had just seen.

Mark followed me back to my house, which was only a couple of miles away, and my roommate and my bestfriend was already there.

I had a house full of guests, so I went into the kitchen and made "comfort food;" fried okra, steak and chicken fingers with cream gravy, and a vegetable platter to take off the guilt of eating fried foods, and grease.

For the rest of the afternoon we watched on a big screen TV everything that went on, and was going on that day.

At work the next day there was nothing to do, so we were all sent back home, after being told that they would call us when there was something to do. Our friends and coworkers, who had been out workings shows and conventions throughout the country, were trying to get back to Dallas since all flights had been canceled.

Slowly the gravity of the events began to sink in. Within the following days I would learn that a friend and colleague of mine was a passenger on Flight 11 that hit the north tower. That a friend of mine since Jr. High had died in the south tower. That a friend/ "buddy" who had recently moved to New York had recently gotten a job in the north tower, and had not called or come back to his apartment in Brooklyn since the morning of the 11th.

When it really hit home for me was when a guy related the events of losing his bestfriend, his brother, and the majority of his employees when the plane hit the one of the towers that day. I wept for days.

I remember how everyone that I encountered during the days following 9/11 were very polite. Many actually even made eye contact. There was no road rage, everyone was patient with the other. We were all united in our feelings about what had happened. To all of us, to America.

I was never a fan of George W. Bush, probably going back to the days when he was "owner" of the Texas Rangers Baseball team. I never supported him for Governor of the State of Texas, and I didn’t vote for him as President. But, when he gave that speech at what has become known today as "ground zero" that I remember that he actually sounded presidential.

He has done nothing but to disappoint me ever since. He had the chance to capitalize on the unity of that day, but instead used it as a political tool to divide, and to further an agenda that to this day is unknown to most Americans.

During the months following 9/11/01 my roommate Doug lost his high paying IT job, and couldn’t find another one since those jobs were now being "out sourced" to India. He eventually had a stroke, either due to his meds, or the stress of not being able to find a job that afforded him the comforts that he had grown accustomed to. He secretly moved out of my house one day in the fall of ’02 owing me $4,600 in back rent. Said it was my fault.

Mark divorced his wife and moved in with me. When his parents found out that he "may or may not be gay," and that I "may or may not be his boyfriend" forced him to move to Las Vegas to work for the family business under threat of suing him over custody of his daughter.

During and after much drama in the fall of ‘03, I sold my house in Dallas and bought a farm an hour and half south of Dallas. The last that I heard Mark had developed an addiction to crystal meth and was "giving it up" for his next hit of crystal meth in Las Vegas.

In the summer of ‘02, and after more than fifteen years working in Corporate America, I quit my job to work for my Dad’s Plumbing Repair business, and even today that’s going into the toilet. After more than 34 years in business Dad had a good run at it. But the business of plumbing repair, and the loss of so many jobs after 9/11, and the advent of HGTV, and the DIY networks, less people are calling for help with their plumbing problems.

There use to be two dates in each year of my life that I use to reflect upon; New Years, and my birthday. New Years to reflect back and see what I did I didn’t accomplish during the past year, and what am I resolved to accomplish during the upcoming year.

By birthday was more personal. I would reflect upon the friendships and relationships that I found and nurtured during the past year, and what type of people would I like to ad to that equation in the upcoming year, and what type of "friends" and relationships are out.

Now five years after 9/11/01, I look at the politics of my country, and it’s leaders and the direction the country is heading, and actively support the change that I want to see.

Not only each year, or on my birthday but everyday. Even it that means doing it alone.

 

[Centexfarmer]

I remember.

I woke early that Tuesday morning, earlier than I usually do, because "my call" was at 6:30 that morning.

I worked as an AudioVisual Technician for a national A/V firm. My first call would be at 6:30 that morning to set up an event on top of a parking garage, near the Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport.

It was to be a fund-raiser the United Way, that one of our clients was putting together. They already had a large wedding tent set up, and I was to arrive with a mixer board, several mics, lighting gear, and I was to be their operator for the day.

I had pulled the equipment and gear the night before, and the box truck had been loaded and was ready to go when I arrived at 5:30 that morning. My coworker, and friend Mark, was there at the loading dock waiting with breakfast when I got there. He was to be my assistant for the morning, at least until I got everything set up, and was ready for the event to start.

The loading dock had a spectacular view of the Dallas skyline, and we sat there in the stillness of the morning watching night turn into day. I remember Mark looking at me and saying, "Something feels different about today." Mark always claimed to have a "sixth sense" about things. I smiled and said, "It’s Tuesday, fall is in the air, it’s just going to be another day." Marked smiled and said, "No, it feels like something is about to change." I smiled and said, yes, you can’t always tell in Texas but this is what happens when it turns from summer to fall. You just feel it, you can’t always see it." Honestly I felt something other in the air too.

When Mark and I arrived at the call site we discovered that we had to move two large "roadie cases," a large mixer board, and several mic stands to the top of a five story parking garage. Logistically this would require unloading the box truck at the building’s service elevator, going up one floor, moving everything over to the parking garage, then up another elevator four more floors up.

After we got the equipment atop the parking garage, I discovered that there wasn’t any power so we had to set up a gas power generator, and figure out a way acoustically to screen the loudness of the motor. Once we got the mics ran, I then had to figure out how I was going to compensate for all of the air traffic that was flying overhead to and from the D/FW Airport when the mics were live.

About an hour or so into the set up, my cell phone rang. It was my roommate Doug calling to inform me that a plane had just struck the south tower of the World Trade Center in New York. Doug knew that I had lived near the World Trade Center years ago, when I was stationed in New York. Being that I was pretty busy, I remember telling Doug; "Some New Yorkers that I knew always wondered when a plane might hit one of those buildings. Remember one hit the Empire State building once." In my mind I imagined a Cessna hitting the south tower. Doug, who didn’t have access to a television, going on what he had heard on the radio, said, "I didn’t think about that. Sorry I bothered you I’ll let you get back to work." I told him, "Call me if you hear anything else." Not wanting to sound dismissive.

On top of the parking garage there were people setting up chairs, caterers setting up their buffet lines, and corporate sponsors setting up their prize booths.

Mark and I continued coordinating everything with Cheryl my contact person, and coordinator for the event on where she wanted lighting on the stage, which was going to be the main mic, who was going to need a wireless mic, and how many mics was I going to have to limit.

My cellphone rang again, and it was my roommate Doug. "Another plane has just hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center, he said, before I could even get out a hello." I remember being stunned when I heard that. I looked over toward the D/FW Airport, and planes were still stacked up trying to land, and I could hear traffic helicopters in the air over the nearby freeway. I looked back toward the tent and everyone was still working away to make sure that we would make our 9:00 am start time.

I asked Doug, "Where are you?" Doug was an IT professional working for a major defense contractor at the time. Doug replied "I’m at work. I’ve already had one conference call interrupted and a buddy of mine who in Manhattan called and told me to find a television, and to turn it on. I’ll call you back when I know more."

I slowly walked back under the tent, and told Mark and Cheryl that my roommate had just called and said that another plane had just now hit the north tower of the World Trade Center.

It seemed like only minutes had gone by, when my cellphone rang again. Once again, it was Doug who said, "A plane has just hit the Pentagon, we’re under attack." I turned and looked back toward the tent, and there were fewer people working as before. Everyone had began trailing back into the building to watch events unfold on the television in their break-room.

I had gone back under the tent to share Doug’s news with Mark, when something happened that I will take to my grave.

Mark and I looked over at Cheryl and she was standing in stunned silence staring over toward the Dallas Fort Worth International airport, one of the busiest hubs in the World. Almost as if on cue we all walked together from under the tent toward the edge of this fifth story-parking garage. We were shocked to see that there wasn’t a single plane or aircraft anywhere in the sky.

I had previously turned off the gas-powered generator to conserve fuel, and the only thing that we could hear on top of that parking garage was silence. The sky was blue, the temperature was still in the low 70’s, and there wasn’t a single sound to be heard except our breathing. None of us had ever heard such silence in a city before.

Cheryl, who up that morning was a complete stranger to me, grabbed my arm as if we had known each other for years. She said, in an almost whisper, "I’m going back inside to see what’s going on."

I remember Mark looking at me and asking, "What’s going on?" "I don’t know," I replied, "but it can’t be good."

A couple of minutes later Cheryl returned, and she came up to me and said, "We’re canceling the event. Give me the invoice and I’ll make sure that your company is paid for its troubles." I told her that I needed to call the office first.

I beeped my supervisor on the Nextel, and informed him that the event had been canceled. There was silence for a second, and came back and said, "That’s the fifth event in the past twenty minutes that’s been canceled today. Tell Cheryl that the there won’t be any charges, and if Mark is still with you pack it in and come back to the warehouse." I clicked twice to let him know that I got his message.

I went back under the tent and told Cheryl that there wouldn’t be any charges. With tears in her eyes she just gave me a hug. Mark and I began breaking down our set up.

It seams that it never takes as long to break things down as it does to build them up.

Just as we had loaded up our last cases, and were beginning to head toward the elevators, Cheryl called over to Mark and I. There was just over a dozen people remaining, caterers, corporate sponsors, volunteers, and maintenance guys under the tent. We all came together, most all of us strangers to each other and we gathered into a circle, held hands, and we bowed our heads and began to pray. It was a non-denominational prayer, but we prayed for the peoples of New York, and we prayed for the peoples at the Pentagon, and we prayed for our Nation.

 

[Centexfarmer]

Dear Journal,

Saturday January 26, 2007

Alone is not the same as lonely.

I miss having my own home.

To place my favorite utensil into the sink, and when I got around to washing it to know which drawer, and which slot it belonged in and why.

In the span of three years I went from having a 3,000 square foot house, to a 10’X13’ room in an aluminum trailer built in 1986 on 23.5 acres of land.

I know how I got here. I’m just trying to find the benefit in why.
I will not attempt to answer that question here, even though I have an idea.

I am surrounded by family and friends, but yet I am alone.
Everything that I see, and have, I own. Including the favorite utensil, save a drawer that I share, and now am only washed by family and friends.

I do not begrudge my life on how I came to be here. I am not bitter at the one who encouraged me along this path, only to abandoned me before we got here.

I am alone. Struggling to make our dreams alone a reality. To find a place where neither comfort nor companionship exists.
I am ripe for the picking.

I have everything that I ever desired in material wages. I have the means to keep them. I have established the foundations for a regional full service organic farm and nursery, and no one to share, to share the labor with. No one to share the losses with. No one to share the magic of the first harvest, the first tomato, the first melon, or the first sunrise of market day.

My family plans for a future that they can no longer afford. My friends plan for a future that they hope to have, and I find that I live my life built upon dreams shared with another; alone.

My sacrifices only seem to go unnoticed by my family.

Decisions are made, and plans are executed without so much as a "by your leave," or "It’s your place. You decide."

I miss having my own home. A place to call my own. A drawer to place my own favorite utensil, once I’ve decided to wash it.

It’s funny the little things that we take for granted when we have them. It’s a testament to resiliency how long we’re prepared to continue to give a hope and a prayer a chance. Especially when we find ourselves alone.

 

[Centexfarmer]

This video always makes me smile:

 

[Centexfarmer]

This song makes me think of my not-gay best friend, who's been my best friend since junior high school.

There was a time a few years ago, after a few drinks, where we had a conversation similar to this.



...except for the last verse!

 

[Centexfarmer]

Sometimes you hear something again for the second or third time, and for some reason it touches your heart in a way that it never did the first time.​

​

by Joni Mitchell

​

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way​

But now they only block the sun
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done
But clouds got in my way
I've looked at clouds from both sides now​

From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all​

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels
The dizzy dancing way you feel
As ev'ry fairy tale comes real
I've looked at love that way​

But now it's just another show
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know
Don't give yourself away​

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all​

Tears and fears and feeling proud
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds
I've looked at life that way​

But now old friends are acting strange
They shake their heads, they say I've changed
Well something's lost, but something's gained
In living every day​

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all
I've looked at life from both sides now
From up and down, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all​

 

[Centexfarmer]

One of my closest friends wanted to see me before the JUB meet in San Antonio.

He could not join me this weekend, despite the fear that he had a cancer laced tumor previously removed from his lip weeks before, and the news that it had not spread.

He was cancer free, and we went out to celebrate at our favorite watering hole.

We knew the regulars at this bar, and they knew us.

It was Karaoke night, and we were both in a mood. The kind of mood where we were celebrating life, and didn't have any room for "bar drama."

Our mutual friend Adam looked at me and said, "You look mean." I smiled and asked, "Mean or Evil?" He looked at my friend Thom and asked, "What's the difference?"

My friend Thom said, "You're born with Evil, you become mean based upon the circumstances."

It was Karoake night, and my friend Thom picked a song for me. The song was Third Eye Blind's "How's it going to be?"

In the middle of the song, a friend's EX BF came up and spit beer on my shirt.

He was drunk, and I always enjoy taking advantage of drunks.

After my song was done, I went to him and said, "You spit beer on my shirt!" He replied, "What are you going to do about it?"

At that point I reached down for the half a bottle of beer and I swigged down what was left of it, but I didn't swallow it.

I leaned forward as if to kiss him, and he leaned forward to receive the kiss. At that point I forced the beer that was in my mouth, into his.

He choked, and acted as if some of it went up his nose.

I looked at him and said, "You spat beer on my shirt. You're going to give me your shirt in exchange for mine."

Mutual friends of mine, aware of the history between the two of us said, "Don't worry, Preston doesn't wear poly-blend."

Which is true! I don't.

I wear pure cotton, silk, or wool.

He took off his shirt, while I took off my $10 cotton, Chinese made T-Shirt from Walmart, and exchanged it with his $45 dollar Nylon/Canvas high-end retailer shirt.

My favorite Lesbian followed me to my truck, where she was parked behind me and said, "I want to share something with you."

I followed her to the trunk of her care, where she revealed a cigar box full of iron-on, sew-on patches.

Within minutes we customized the shirt, to be sold at an upcoming "silent-auction-fundraiser."

If he wants his shirt back, he's going to have to bid on it like everyone else!

 

[Centexfarmer]

I Love You.

One day a man's partner died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the man was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes, there isn't anymore. ​

No more hugs,

no more special moments to celebrate together,

no more phone calls just to chat,

no more "just one minute."


Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say good-bye, or say "I love you."

So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, fix it when it's broken, and heal it when it's sick.

This is true for relationships,

and old cars,

and children with bad report cards,

and dogs with bad hips,

and aging parents and grandparents.


We keep them because they are worth it.

Because we are worth it.

Some things we keep;

Like a best friend who moved away,

or a classmate we grew up with.


There are just some things that make us happy,

No matter what.


Life is important,

Like people we know who are special.

And so, we keep them close!

I received this from someone who thought I was a 'keeper'!

Suppose one morning you never wake up,

Do all your friends know you love them?

I was thinking,

I could die today,

tomorrow or next week,

and I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed,

Friendships that needed rekindling,

or three words needing to be said.

Let every one of your friends know you love them.

Even if you think they don't love you back.

You would be amazed at what those three little words and a smile can do.

And just in case my time on the planet is up,

I Love you.

 

[Centexfarmer]

Six months before I joined Just Us Boys back in May of 2005, I lost someone very dear to me.

I thought that I had finally found true love, the one, the guy that I was going to spend many long and happy years with.

But that turned out not to be the case.

In the blink of an eye I had lost him to crystal meth, and it seemed that neither of us were prepared for what that stuff will do to the person who only tried it once, and the negative impact that it would have on those individuals who loved him. Myself included.

His loss nearly destroyed me.

That's about the time that I found Just Us Boys. I didn't come here searching for porn, but to meet other guys, and an outlet from my day to day loneliness.

Through my encounters here, and from some of the friends that I've truly made on and off the boards through JUB, I found myself looking forward to logging on here everyday just to get caught up with what was going on in your lives.

Many of you have inspired me in ways that no one else has. Through your words, your humor, and your willingness to open up your heart to an often hostile world, and by many of you just "putting yourselves out there."

I'm writing this blog to let those of you know, and you know who you are, where I'm at should you stumble across this scribble.

I'll be offline for awhile. Hopefully no more than a couple of weeks. I've temporarily relinquished my position as a Moderator as I won't have access to help anyone, or to exchange in the occasional PM's with so many of you.

The log jam in my life has finally broken, and I'm now free to make my dreams come true.

I'll be back as soon as I can. Until then I'll be thinking of many of you, and as always, I wish each of you well.

Until I return, I leave each of you with a song that inspired me during my darkest hours:

​

Namaste​

​

 

[Centexfarmer]

This has spoken to me for such a longtime, and I wanted to add something new since my most previous entry.

I'll be more than happy to answer any questions, just drop me a PM.

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.


It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.


It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.


I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.


It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithlessand therefore trustworthy.


I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day,and if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”


It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.


It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.


It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.


I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

by
Oriah Mountain Dreamer
copyright © 1999 by Oriah Mountain Dreamer.

This is where my life is at the moment.

This is where, and how I seek to connect with those around me.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Yes, I've come to like the company that I keep.

 

[Centexfarmer]

I recently made this Thread in CE&P to explain what I'm doing:

On-Topic - Calling all regular CE&P Posters; Your Avatars!

I posted the Georgia O'Keefe painting Summer Days 1936 as my Avatar:

For reasons that I explained in that thread.

I was in hopes that I'd be able to change it after the Texas Primaries on March 4th.

However, I was voted out as Precinct Chair by a large group of Obama Supporters, and within seconds my 16 years of experience within the Texas Democratic Party came to an end.

I'm okay with it.

Someone once said that the only constant in the Universe is Change, but if this is the change that Obama is talking about, then we're all in for a bumpy ride IMHO.

Changing the bath water while throwing the baby out with the bath is never good.

How can it be?

So my Avatar will remain this Georgia O'keefe painting until the Democratic Party has a nominee to run against John McCain.

Some have said that there's no way that John McCain can unite this country, when he can't even unite his own party, and I say that there's no way the Democrats can win when we have two candidates willing to divide our party.

So I celebrate the art and independence of Georgia O'Keefe.

Namaste!

 

[Centexfarmer]

Every Thursday or Friday, I start getting my "single wide trailer" ready for my "out of town" Guests.

In the fall of 2003, I sold my 3,000 square foot, four bedroom, three bathroom house, built in 1912, in a historic district in Dallas, Texas house.

I lived there for 10 years, and restored it to the best of my abilities, and with what my pocket book would allow.

Became an "Urban Activist."

Elected politicians with my influence as a neighborhood Association President, and as a member of various "Boards of Directors," of Conservation Leagues, and "Preservation Groups."

I gave up finding "the one" who would help me to finish restoring it, and to make it the home that it was supposed to be in 2003.

I Sold it for 3x what I paid for it.

Used the money to pay off all of my credit cards and debt, bought myself a new Ford Ranger pickup, and put a healthy down payment on 23.5 acres of land with a "single wide trailer," 1.5 hours south of Dallas.

My Dad, bless him, is tired of providing for a wife and kids, who in another world would have sent him to the "poor house."

Instead, his daughter, and my sister, can not only take care of our family, we can take care of Mom and Dad.

I have enough land to give Mom and Dad a place to retire.

But not now. Not yet.

I'm alone in a "single wide trailer," in Central Texas.

Mom is still too connected to her Democratic Politics, and the politics in Southwest Dallas County.

Dad likes to drink when he comes down on the weekends. (I'm guilty of encouraging that.)

Not because, as his son, I continue to give him reasons to drink, but because I keep a fully stocked bar within my "Single Wide Trailer."

I'm rambling.

I quit Corporate America, and went back to work for my Dad in the Summer of 2002, within a few months after 9/11, and the confusion and bullshit that followed that day.

And now, in the Spring of 2008, I live in a "Single Wide Trailer."

In the middle of "Bush Country."

I'm closer to "Chapel Hill Ranch," (aka The Texas White House,") than I am to my own home, and to civilization.

GIRL NEEDS TO GET OUT!



But I've wandered, and rambled.

Every Thursday, and Friday, of each week, regardless of how much stuff, or how many projects that I've got strung from one end of this "single-wide" to another, I pack it all into boxes, and bushels, and stuff things into the closets, and storage sheds, so that come Saturday Afternoon, my Dad has an excuse to take a nap.



Otherwise he'll worry about the dishes, the mail, and what the local papers have had to allow.

Mom can continue to cut down as many Mesquite, and Locust trees as she wants too.

She can mow down as many weeds that she can see!

None of those things require the help of my Dad, or myself.

Unless she hits a rock, or a buried limb in the grass, or breaks a belt on the $3,000 Craftsman Mower that Dad and I pitched in to get her.

I now live in a "Single Wide Trailer."

I'm accepting offers for a boyfriend to help with my "Organic Farming Operation," or Something BETTER!

I could have moved to Albuquerque, NM, and dealt with a mean drunk.

Instead, I decided to move into a "single wide trailer" in the middle of nowhere.

It is what it is.

 

[Centexfarmer]

I love how a song can transport you back, while remaining in the present.

This song sings to me on so many levels and takes me back to so many places, friends, and people.



Hush now dont cry
Wipe away the teardrop from your eye
Youre lying safe in bed
It was all a bad dream
Spinning in your head
Your mind tricked you to feel the pain
Of someone close to you leaving the game of life
So here it is, another chance
Wide awake you face the day
Your dream is over...or has it just begun?

Theres a place I like to hide
A doorway that I run to in the night
Relax child, you were there
But only didnt realize it and you were scared
Its a place where you will learn
To face your fears, retrace the tears
And ride the whims of your mind
Commanding in another world
Suddenly, you hear and see
This magic new dimension

Chorus
I-will be watching over you
I-am gonna help you see it through
I-will protect you in the night
I-am smiling next to you...in silent lucidity

If you open your mind for me
You wont rely on open eyes to see
The walls you built within
Come tumblng down, and a new world will begin
Living twice at once you learn
You7re safe froom pain in the dream domain
A soul set free to fly
A round trip journey in your head
Master of illusion, can you realize
Your dreams alive, you can be the guide but...

Chorus

 

[Centexfarmer]

Everyday we lives our lives, and do the best that we can to make our dreams come true.

Sometimes I can honestly admit that I don't know what I'm doing.

One of the things that helps me to carry on, and to pursue my life out here "in the sticks" is that my friends back in the "city" will be okay, and can weather the storm without me.

I got a jolt last Friday from one of those friends, who informed me that our friend Gary had died.

I last saw him last at he and his partner's Halloween Party just a few months ago.

Since then he had been complaining that he was tired, and felt like that he had the flu.

His partner finally convinced him to see his doctor, and that afternoon he was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer. Two days later he was gone.

His funeral was last Monday, but his partner of more than 16 years is having a "private celebration" for Gary's life this Saturday.

I'm not looking forward to it.

I can't imagine stepping through their doorway, and not finding Gary in the kitchen whipping up drinks, and appetizers for everyone, and giving hugs and kisses to everyone who thought enough to bring something to contribute to the party.

Make yourself at home! I'm so happy to see you, and I'm so glad that you could make it! There's food on the table, the bar is over there, jello shots are in the fridge, and you can put that right over here!

My heart SO goes out to Larry, and the irreplaceable loss that he must be feeling.

But I will go, and I will be there, and I'll embrace him, and see my friends that I haven't seen in so many months, and I will BE with them in our time of loss.

For Gary:

 

[Centexfarmer]

I'm in such an interesting place, and I stumbled upon this song that I want to dedicate to so many that I know, and have met. Not only here, but elsewhere as well:

You'll never know
What you've done for me
What your faith in me
Has done for my soul...

You'll never know
The gift you've given me..
I'll carry it with me (yeah...yeah...)

Through the days ahead
I think of days before
You made me hope for something better (yes you did)
And made me reach for something more

You taught me to run
You taught me to fly
Helped me to free the me inside
Help me hear the music of my heart
Help me hear the music of my heart
You've opened my eyes
You've opened the door
To something I've never known before
And your love...
(love)
Is the music of my heart.. (music of my heart)

You were the one
Always on my side (always on my side)
Always standing by (always standing by)
Seeing me through

You were the song that always made me sing
I'm singing this for you (singing this for you baby)

Everywhere I go
I think of where I've been (think of where I've been)
And of the one who knew me better
Than anyone ever will again

You taught me to run
You taught me to fly
Helped me to free the me inside
Help me hear the music of my heart
Help me hear the music of my heart
You've opened my eyes
You've opened the door (you opened the door)
To something I've never known before...
And your love...(your love)
Is the music of my heart

What you taught me
Only your love could ever teach me
You got through when no one could reach me
Ohh...ohh...ohh

Cause you always saw in me
All the best that I could be
It was you who set me free...

You taught me to run
You taught me to fly
Helped me to free the me inside (me inside)
Help me hear the music of my heart
Help me hear the music of my heart

You taught me to run
You taught me to fly
Helped me to free the me inside (me inside)
Help me hear the music of my heart (music of my heart)
Help me hear the music of my heart
You've opened my eyes
You've opened the door (opened the door)
To something I've never known before (never, never, felt before)
And your love...
Is the music of my heart..

Music of my heart
Music of my heart
Is the music of my heart...

I'll keep y'all posted as to where I'll be, and where I'm going, but right here, right now, isn't it.

Somethings missing.

I don't know when I'll leave, or exactly where I'm headed, but it's the music of my heart that keeps me going, and it's that music that each of you have kept alive in your own special way.

I'm honored. Thank you.

 

[Centexfarmer]

Saturday May 31st, 2008 my friend will be driving by my parents house because my farm is too far out of the way.

She'll be picking me up to help drive her, and her cat, to the next chapter in her life.

I met her in the Spring of 1990 at a cocktail party, and she was already deeply connected to one of my good friends, and coworkers at the time.

Over the years she would become a mentor of sorts, and we buried my friend, and we moved on.

We exhaulted each other's triumphs, and pulled the shades, locked the doors, and turned on the answering machine in our defeats, only allowing each other to get through during those darker moments.

If there ever was a "soul-mate." She is mine.

Our lives have so closely mirrored and paralled each other in our jobs, careers, relationships, shortcomings, and humanity.

Now she's leaving her family, friends, and more than three decades of a life built in my hometown to begin what she believes could be the final chapter in her life, to be with the one that she loves.

It's my honor and privilege to be the one, beyond her own family to make that journey with her.

Where will I go? What will I do upon my trip back, and once I've arrived back here?

Since I moved to my farm, we haven't seen as much of each other as we once did, and I'm confident that we'll stay in touch.

But our lives have been so interwoven, so interconnected over these past 18 years, that I can't help but wonder what's in store for me.

I can't help but feel that a chapter has ended, and feel that the book is being closed, and a new chapter, and a new book is beginning.

Where will we go? What will we do?

I will not pack a suitcase for this trip, but rather a carry-on bag, and will find my way back to my farm, and will hug her, and embrace her at the airport in Milwaukee, not knowing when I'll see her again.

 

[Centexfarmer]

I search without finding,
I write alone,
there's no one here,
and the day falls,
the year falls,
I fall with the moment,
I fall to the depths,
invisible path over mirrors repeating my shattered image,
I walk through the days, the trampled
moments,
I walk through all the thoughts of my shadow,
I walk through my shadow in search of
a moment........

[FONT=&quot]Octavio Paz[/FONT]