First a Shout-Out of Thanks to a Reader! Thanks Marvin!
The above picture was taken in Feb 2011, and since I owe a shout-out to Marvin, the handsome guy next to me in the picture, I will do so through honoring some memories I have of us together. We became dance buddies after meeting because we both really enjoy dancing, are good at it, so it was only natural that we enjoyed dancing together. I remember some really fun times that we had at Cobalt and Towne Dancebotique. But that should not suggest that we didn’t spent plenty of time at Nellie’s socializing before our too few DC dance-capades.
The picture to the lower right is after a particularly cold, but memorable night in either, November or December of 2011. In my infinite misguided-infatuations I force myself to do things a little less than reasonable to feel like I got someone— whom I really did not have. I knew it, but ignored it. Anyway, looking at the picture you’ll notice that Marvin is sporting a nice rabbit-fur hat, which was passed around to just about every guy in the Gayborhood, getting more action than any single guy that ever lived in said gayborhood— I should have charged to let people wear the damn thing.. Whether it was for the warmth or the fact that that hat looked utterly ridiculous, no one could resist wanting to at least try it on. Had i thought of it and charged for the benefit of using such a fashion-forward piece of rat-fur, I would have made out like Heidi Fleiss before she began her birdie binges.
To meet this person for whom i had an infatuation, I traveled all the way out to Charlestown WV after one of the BEST times dancing I can remember at Cobalt (with Marvin) and I had a little too much to drink (although I had sobered up I was extremely tired). I often wonder what would have become of me if Marvin and I would have just stayed and enjoyed ourselves and I ignored the hold this lad from an adjoining state and I would have appreciated what was close-by? I feel a tinge of regret and considering my other path ended the way it did I may always wonder.
Anyway, the shout-out:: .
Marvin, I really appreciate your feedback which, for one, lets me know people are actually reading my blog, and it also serves to provide me direction to better improve my humble efforts. By letting me know me your opinion, I feel confident with regard to the reflections you had on life and living my adventures vicariously though this blog. I genuinely don’t feel as though it is very different from anyone else’s mis-step (be it intentional or not). I just know my comfort zone and that it’s been flexible of late. Forever clinging to the notion that everyone is equally capable of doing what they want, I desperately do not want to believe that some people are suited to endure certain things that others would succumb to the same trials.. This is elitism and it justs just as well we believe it to a certain extent because some of us are more capable than others when it comes to anything, be it leading a nation, boxing, interpreting the law, or survival. What are you content with whereas someone else might need luxury, Probably not, but there are those who will work hard to earn comforts so they no longer have to be capable.
To quote Shakespeare, “Poor and Content is Rich and Rich Enough.” There is a lot of truth in those words. Even when living with someone you can identify where extreme discomfort hrt in a difficult situation emerges and I would hope for myself that someone would coax me into being content with the status-quo. It’s really a way of surviving. I am of the firm believe that people can become far too content with too little and perhaps shouldn’t be— but I am not referring to matters of wealth. Marvin, you paid me a few compliments earlier in the day concerning you ! More importantly, he flattered me with a line of compliments that was really the most satisfying a person could be paid in reference to the way one lives. I try to live a satisfying life and, most importantly to experience as much as I can and try not to waste time. Have I succeeded? Who knows. I said earlier in the month that some might find my life someone exciting or even accomplished but I really am not quite satisfied with myself. I’m naive to whether or not that is a good thing. Being dissatisfied certainly leads one to be more a person of action, but misfortune also begs the concern for weather it is safer and predictable to simply by stay home.
A Theory On Living:
I have often tolds myself that bad luck is something that is rather invited into someone’s life. I have been told this by others too. These others seem to be supreme optimists— even if it is just idiotically stupid to keep with such a mindset. At some point one must be realistic over optimistic. The difficulty is sometimes in knowing when. Hope drives us to keep going, but it can also drive us to foolish decisions. There comes a time when if decisions are not made situations can me made exponentially worse. It was at such a time that Christopher and I left our first place in Salt Lake City. It was actually significantly outside of Salt Lake in a part of town called Draper. It was a wonderful tech corridor if I could have broken into a solid position.
Our first three months there really saw the money that we arrived with gone. Not only that, Christopher and I had been given the primary responsibility of taking care of two boys, ages Seven and Six. I really loved taking care of them, but had really forgotten that taking care of kids is a full-time job in of itself. I find it important to mention that the kids were expensive too. Christopher and I were the primary suppliers of food and daily supplies that keeps any household running. We were not required to pay rent, but the situation was a bit odd either way. The house was full of people and a bit too small. If I was independently wealthy I would have taken care of the boys until they were grown. I loved cooking for them, introducing them to new foods, teaching them and just participating in their lives.
The boys got both Christopher and I up in the morning because if someone wasnt awake with them there would inevitably be some impending catastrophe without a sane presence. I remember coaxing them away from the X-Box. I had bought heavy whipping creme from the store and I asked the older boy, James, if he wanted to whisk the heavy creme for me. He was not certain of the purpose but obliged as I prepared strawberries, bananas and chocolate. Whisking heavy creme is actually really tedious when equipped with just a whisk. But it’s how I always made whipped creme. I added sugar and had the boys trade off in whisking while I finished, I have Christopher take over the whisking as their little arms get tired and they are questioning me with ever more frequency what is supposed to happen. When I point out that it is thicker than it once, they found renewed will to whisk. Either way, I finish it up for them as it gets difficult until there are soft peaks in the creme. I then have James taste it with his fingers (clean fingers) and his response was:
“I love eating butter!”
“Well…. I guess it needs more sugar!” I generally remark, as Christopher laughs at how honest the boy is.
The minds of these children— and all children– are really wonderfully simple. The simple notion that the whipped creme tasted like butter was a simple reaction to tasting something similar to what he has tasted before. Of course, if we had continued to whip that creme it would separate into butter, but it was simply that he had not experienced having whipped creme before and he had tasted butter. Similar taste without enough sugar. My mind was worried before that point if I may have already added too much. The important aspect is that I had an expectation for what it should be and the boys didn’t and I got a really honest reaction for something as simple as whipping creme for strawberries. I had hope that my expectation was really what it should be, or good enough for the kids. I got a slight adjustment with the frank “butter response” and couldn’t hope that it was sweet enough at that point. It makes me think every day if our expectations don’t need to be re-assessed, and often at that.
More on that next time, as the situation becomes serious in Salt Lake.
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(I haven’t survived some of this without a little help)