Do you remember the day you chose to be straight?

Do you remember the day you chose to be straight?

No, I suppose that you don't.

Just like I don't remember the day I chose to be a lesbian.

The reason?
Because we didn't choose.
Simple as that.

However, I do remember the day I realised that I was different, also the day I understood that I liked girls the same way all my friends liked boys, and I will never forget the day it was hammered home that all of these feelings were best kept under wraps... each one of these days happened before my 7th birthday.

Today I was in a friendly conversation with an older man who lives in my neighborhood. We wave on sight, and if we are near to each other we take a few moments out for a bit of conversation. 

We were talking about the hot weather and how Berlin really doesn't see so much of this kind of heat. We talked about our last towns... his in Bavaria, and mine in Kansas. He said that he missed snow, and I said that I missed exciting weather (I have a thing about thunderstorms, and European weather just doesn't have enough to suit me). 

After this he asked the question which so many come to eventually, "Why did you come to Berlin?". 

Since it has always been important for me to be open about these things, I gave him my stock answer, "I fell in love with a wonderful lady Berliner". 

Like many people who do not know me well, he was taken aback. His gaze intensified as the wheels started turning. After all had been put to rights in his brain, he popped out with one of the more creative responses I've heard, "Soon you will realise that you want children, and another woman cannot give you this; then you will choose a nice man and settle down". 

You need to know that I'm 46 years old, which puts me out of the child-bearing years... but to an octagenarian, I'm just one of those "kids", I'm sure.

In the end his assertion that I would change my mind later is just a variation on the "you're just in a phase", idea... which has always bugged me.

I'm so sick and tired of the old ideas that homosexuality is a phase, a choice, and/or a sickness which can be cured. The same goes for the idea of 'gay recruiting'. If you are really straight... do you think you can be 'turned' gay?

Were heterosexuals born that way, or did they choose it? I have been known to ask them what they think. Often they are agasp! "Boh! Well, I never chose to be straight, I am just this way". Why should my answer be any different?

If it were simply a matter of conditioning, then everyone would be straight. Mom and Pop are just the beginning.Try and imagine the world in topsy-turvey mode. Imagine every TV show, book, magazine and movie tells you that you should be GAY. You know you aren't, you know that you won't be happy that way... but everyone and everything is telling you that is your path. How would you handle it?

All of this conditioning, all of this peer pressure to be straight, every indication around you telling you to be one way... yet you are most decidedly headed in a different direction. This is what it is like to grow up homosexual in a heterosexual environment.

Turns out there is substantial evidence of genetic and prenatal components involved in sexual orientation, not to mention the hundreds of species which exhibit same-sex behaviors. In the end it has been proven time and again that a combination of genetic, hormonal and social factors determine sexual orientation and that the only "choice" made by people like me is whether to ignore the way we are and conform to society's expectations; or to live our lives as we feel most comfortable.

Rather than try to explain all of these factors to this nice man who was still wearing his customary smile, I told him that with two women in the relationship, there are twice as many possibilities for babies... if we were so inclined. We laughed it off, and went on to discuss his grandchildren who had come for a visit on the previous long weekend.

To my mind, being gay is no more of a "choice" than being left-handed and has many similarities.  

What do you think?
What day did you choose your sexual preferences?
 

It's Official! June is Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month in America.

American President Barack Obama has taken an inclusive move forward by releasing a proclamation declaring June to be lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) Pride Month.

I've watched two administrations in the 80's and early 90's which managed to blame us AND ignore us during an epidemic, then in the middle 90's when a supposedly gay-inclusive president signed both Don't Ask, Don't Tell (DADT), and Defence of Marriage Act (DOMA). On to the 2000's as another administration called for a Constitutional amendment denying human rights for gays. 

It is nice to feel that in the White House sits a man who acknowledges and understands our humanity and basic civil rights.

Perhaps I should take a moment to reflect on what has just happened. Consider how unlikely this event would have been even five or ten years ago. It would have seemed like some kind of science fiction theme fifteen or twenty years ago, Gene Roddenberry could have written this. 

Look back and consider how much progress we have made over the last few years with the fall of DADT, the steady march of marriage equality, immigration benefits, federal changes in transgender related policy regarding gender marker changes, the striking down of DOMA, as well as the recent rulings around veteran's benefits for same-sex spouses.

Now the so-called Leader of the Free World has taken this step in the most public way possible. He has asserted that lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender individuals are full and equal human beings who are worthy of dignity, respect, and the full protection of the law.

Once again I am very proud of President Barack Obama. I am also incredibly proud of my gay, lesbian and trans brothers & sisters. So many have stood up and proclaimed that they won't take second-class citizen status any more, and thankfully people are listening. 

Here is his statement in full.

As progress spreads from State to State, as justice is delivered in the courtroom, and as more of our fellow Americans are treated with dignity and respect -- our Nation becomes not only more accepting, but more equal as well. During Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender (LGBT) Pride Month, we celebrate victories that have affirmed freedom and fairness, and we recommit ourselves to completing the work that remains.

Last year, supporters of equality celebrated the Supreme Court's decision to strike down a key provision of the Defense of Marriage Act, a ruling which, at long last, gave loving, committed families the respect and legal protections they deserve. In keeping with this decision, my Administration is extending family and spousal benefits -- from immigration benefits to military family benefits -- to legally married same-sex couples.

My Administration proudly stands alongside all those who fight for LGBT rights. Here at home, we have strengthened laws against violence toward LGBT Americans, taken action to prevent bullying and harassment, and prohibited discrimination in housing and hospitals. Despite this progress, LGBT workers in too many States can be fired just because of their sexual orientation or gender identity; I continue to call on the Congress to correct this injustice by passing the Employment Non-Discrimination Act. And in the years ahead, we will remain dedicated to addressing health disparities within the LGBT community by implementing the Affordable Care Act and the National HIV/AIDS Strategy -- which focuses on improving care while decreasing HIV transmission rates among communities most at risk.

Our commitment to advancing equality for the LGBT community extends far beyond our borders. In many places around the globe, LGBT people face persecution, arrest, or even state-sponsored execution. This is unacceptable. The United States calls on every nation to join us in defending the universal human rights of our LGBT brothers and sisters.

This month, as we mark 45 years since the patrons of the Stonewall Inn defied an unjust policy and awakened a nascent movement, let us honor every brave leader who stood up, sat in, and came out, as well as the allies who supported them along the way. Following their example, let each of us speak for tolerance, justice, and dignity -- because if hearts and minds continue to change over time, laws will too.

NOW, THEREFORE, I, BARACK OBAMA, President of the United States of America, by virtue of the authority vested in me by the Constitution and the laws of the United States, do hereby proclaim June 2014 as Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month. I call upon the people of the United States to eliminate prejudice everywhere it exists, and to celebrate the great diversity of the American people.

IN WITNESS WHEREOF, I have hereunto set my hand this thirtieth day of May, in the year of our Lord two thousand fourteen, and of the Independence of the United States of America the two hundred and thirty-eighth.

BARACK OBAMA

Want to read a bit of my "Why I came to Berlin" story?
Here is a blogpost which has most of the 411.

And Still I Rise

Because I loved her
Because she was my spiritual Mother
Because she opened my eyes to oppression and how to peacefully resist it
Because she showed me what a human being can overcome
Because she opened the door for me to better understand humankind
Because I love her books, her voice, her philosophy, and her spirit...

For all these reasons and so many more; I will mourn Maya Angelou.

I am saddened by her passing, but her words dance still in my heart.

Still I Rise
Maya Angelou, 1928-2014

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

For the tiny minority still reading, here are some favorite quotes:

• Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option.

• If you don't like something, change it. If you can't change it, change your attitude. Don't complain.

• There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story.

• I do not trust people who don't love themselves and yet tell me, 'I love you.' There is an African saying which is: Be careful when a naked person offers you a shirt.

• We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.

• You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.

• My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.

• I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

• I love to see a young girl go out and grab the world by the lapels. Life's a bitch. You've got to go out and kick ass.

• The love of the family, the love of the person can heal. It heals the scars left by a larger society. A massive, powerful society.

• Courage is the most important of all the virtues because without courage, you can't practice any other virtue consistently.

• Nothing will work unless you do.

• It's one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself, to forgive. Forgive everybody.

• I've learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

• Try to be a rainbow in someone’s cloud.

You don't have to be a brain to be boss, just an Asshole.

When the Body was First Made,
All Its Parts Wanted to be Boss... 

THE BRAIN SAID : Since I control everything and do all the work I should be boss. 

THE FEET SAID: Since I carry man where he wants to go and get him to do what the Brain wants, I should be boss. 

THE HANDS SAID: Since I must do all the work and earn all the money to keep all the rest of you going, I should be boss. 

THE EYES SAID: Since I must look out for all of you and tell you where danger lurks, I should be boss. 

And so it went with the Heart, the Ears, and the Lungs. 

Finally the Asshole spoke up and demanded that he be boss. All the other parts laughed and laughed at the idea of an asshole being boss. 

The Asshole was so angered that he blocked himself off and refused to function. Soon the Brain was feverish, the Eyes crossed and ached, the Feet were too weak to walk, the Hands hung limply at his side, the Heart and Lungs struggled to keep going. 

All pleaded with the Brain to relent and let the Asshole be boss, and so it happened. All parts did the work and the Asshole just bossed and passed out a lot of shit. 

MORAL: You don't have to be a brain to be boss, just an Asshole.

Years ago I saw this text on a poster in Spencer's Gifts (ya'll Americans remember Spencer's, don't ya?). Every once in a while it pops into my head in daily life. It is oh. so. true.
P.S. This isn't about my boss, just about anyone who is in control simply because they are an asshole.

What Kind of Fresh Gay Hell is This? (OR Why are you in Germany, Snooker?)

Today I received an email from Democrats Abroad (the overseas branch of the US Democratic Party). In it was a warning that discussed how the consulate services would change for people wanting to bring foreign family with them when they move back to the U.S.

In that letter was a simple text which caught my eye, "We have a long-standing commitment as Democrats Abroad to simplifying the path to citizenship and legal permanent residency for non-American spouses and close family members".

Uh huh... and gay and lesbian spouses?
Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot?

I did a little Googling and found not so much as a
news piece on how DA is supporting legislation in the House and Senate right now... the Uniting American Families Act of 2011.  

OK, so I don't regularly pump money into the DA, but I do support them occasionally. Upon reading this email, I am struck by the notion of  "What have you done for me lately, DA?"

I'll give DA a break because actually there are relatively few people/organizations who care about my plight. But before I delve deeper into my special situation, perhaps you should know more about it. Let's go to bullets, shall we?

• Fell in love with a German girl in 2000
• She came to visit me in the States often in 2001 and 2002, I also visited her in Berlin during these years
• Tried to legally have her move to America starting in 2003 with a student visa (no other legal methods available - university is free or cheap in Germany, but we are willing to pay for the education if it means we can be together).
• Based on the fact that she had entered the country six times in the past two years she was considered a "risk of overstay" and denied a student visa which also cancels her out of the visa waiver program forever... she can't come to America for at least year because of this denial. 
• Shortly after the denial she pays more money for the privilege to go to the Consulate - armed with proof that she intends to return to Germany - to appeal the denial of both the student visa and the visa waiver program.
• She met with the same woman who had denied the original request... you guessed it, denied once again. (K**** ******, if Sweet No ever sees you on the street, she won't be such a Sweet No anymore.)
• On the other side of the Atlantic, I tried Lambda Legal Defense who told me that if either she or I had a penis, this would all be really easy... but gays can't petition to bring their future spouses to America... Sorry Snooker.
• Found out that the states which have recently been allowing gay marriage have nothing to do with our situation. Immigration is at the Federal level, and thanks to the Defence of Marriage Act, (DOMA) the feds (and the other states) don't have to recognize any homosexual marriage performed in those states, not to mention other countries. Sorry again, Snooker.
• Tried a shyster immigration lawyer who was happy to take my money and petition "da gubermint" for us, but to no avail.
• Sweet No goes back to the American Consulate in Berlin after her year banishment from travel to America and meets up with a nice guy who seems to sense her desperation and takes pity on her, issuing her a 10 year "B1/B2 visa", allowing her to travel to the States again, and with much more lenient travel restrictions (maximum length of stay 6 months instead of the normal 3 months). 
• Happy Dance... but still, it doesn't REALLY keep us together.
• Sweet No wants to work and be a contributing member of society, just coming in for VISITS is simply frustrating. Of course entering and overstaying illegally are not even up for consideration. 
• In 2004 I got sick and tired of watching my girl walking to airport security through the tears in my eyes and decided to move to Germany to be with her. FuckYouWashington
• Sold everything, gave up my career, said goodbye to friends and family in preparation to leave.
• 2005 the cat and I leave the "Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave" to be in Germany which accepts my love of a woman. Germany also allows me to have a "separate, but equal" civil partnership with Sweet No. Immigration is pretty much the only benefit of the Lebenspartnerschaft, but it was a good thing in our case. (Thankfully the Greens keep making another go of equalizing this situation in Germany, maybe some day they will get lucky.)
• January of 2005 we signed our civil partnership and had our - yes, we share a birthday - birthday on that same day. Great birthday present, no?
• Because of her special visa we are rather lucky, she isn't under suspicion as are many others in our situation. If foreign same-sex spouses come to the United States accompanying a U.S. citizen, (even for a short visit of the U.S. citizen's family), U.S. Immigration might deny visa privileges to the spouse out of fear that they will be tempted to overstay their visa dates to remain in the country with their spouse (perhaps even challenging the anti-gay marriage laws as we are LEGALLY partnered in another country). Thus, gays and lesbians (especially politically active ones) have been known to be turned away at the gates.
• Wish us luck, that visa expires in just a few years. (update, she was given the same visa again, so no problems there)

In the end I had to face lots of the same problems as other "love exiles". I had to give up my career and move far away from my family. This is being felt even more now that my Mother is dealing with declining health and I would like to be there for her. But as it is, if I need to be in the U.S. for a longer period of time, I have to choose between being with my wife or being with my American family. It's really rather unfair, and it makes me into a second-class citizen... one who STILL needs to pay American taxes even though I don't live in the country. 

So where are you going with this, Snooker? 
I really don't know. It is just that something has been awakening in me lately.

Political cartoon by Darrin Bell

Those who came before helped to blaze the trail for me and others like me to be openly gay, often at great personal sacrifice to themselves. Those pissed off queens turning the tables on police during a scam raid on the Stonewall Inn in the late '60's and starting the "Gay Revolution" are a fine example.

Barbara Gittings and her friends stood up and said that they wouldn't take being considered second class citizens - and worse yet, mentally unstable - during the '60's (which lead The American Psychiatric Association to officially declassify homosexuality as a mental illness in 1974 - but it wasn't until 1992 that the World Health Organisation followed suit). The good people of GLAAD and the National Gay and Lesbian Task Force have done so much to further the cause. And who could forget Harvey Milk and the work he did for the community before being gunned down himself.

Let's not forget the organizations working tirelessly on this very topic:
Immigration Equality Action Fund
Out4Immigration
Love Exiles Foundation

So what are you doing, Snooker? is a question I often ask myself. Yeah, I'm living pretty well, but only because I ran. I am part of a US binational same-sex couple who had the money and ability to simply move away from the situation and now the whole anti-gay thing doesn't have so much of a grip on me.

This has reminded me of a book I have recently seen advertised, "Torn Apart - United by Love, Divided by Law" by Judy Rickard. Perhaps I should just order it now, proceeds go to organizations working to overcome U.S. immigration denial for same-sex binational couples. (tick, tock... time passes... cue shot to a clock with moving pendulum) OK, the Internet has worked its magic. The book is probably whizzing my way right now. It was even available at Amazon.de.  

But what about the others? What about those folks left behind who would like to have the same rights as the supposed "normal" people in our society? What about those kids right now who are counting on my generation to do our part to further gay civil rights to benefit their generation? UGH, that is a terrible weight to bear. But I say here and now that I will do more towards this goal. I DO still have a vote in American politics (my wallet feels it, even if I sometimes don't), I DO still have a voice in what happens. Perhaps I just need to raise that voice a bit more often.

Any suggestions how I can do that?

Too old for... ?

Goofball over at Goofballsworld has tagged me in a meme.
Don't close the window yet... give us a chance. 

Normally I'm not into memes, but this one struck me as interesting.

"It doesn't matter how young or how old you are, we all do stuff that we are secretly too old for: stuff that we'd rather not want the others to know because they'd not consider it suitable for our age. So what are you too old for but what can't you stop doing because you like it that much?"

Well, here I am at the commonly accepted "middle age". The 40's have just begun and I must face that the downward spiral has also started on many facets of life. There are things which I simply will never get to do. No, I won't be partying with AC/DC anytime soon, and that teenage dream of owning a penthouse over Manhattan, I don't see it coming true either.

According to society I should have settled down at least in my 30's and started having kids. Well, pffft on that. I should have bought a house or at least an apartment. Pfft. I should have a comfy retirement fund started or at least some heavy guilt (OK, so I have a retirement fund... no pfft there).

Looking at life from the perspective of what society deems "normal" for each decade of life, I would have to say that generally I buck the system at every chance.

So why should acting my age be something I actually do?

Why is it that we allow society to decide what is right to do at what time of life? Goofball talks about how she loves to swing on swing-sets. She discusses the fact that the sizes are most generally geared to children, thus it isn't so easy to use them in the same way... BUT, she still loves the sensation... and I'm sure she can still fit IN the swing. Why should she feel badly about enjoying something so natural? Just because society tells us that she's too old?

I say Pfft!

• If I want to play video games all night long, I'll do it.
• If I want to buy the BIG LOLLIPOP and suck on it until I'm down to the stick, I will do it... and I will hold the sticky stick however I want!
• If I want to wear a Mickey Mouse Watch, I will do it.
• If I want to eat desert before the main meal, why not? Life is uncertain. Eat desert first!
• If I want to sit on the floor at the bookstore and enjoy going through the stacks while crawling around, I'll get my pants dirty.
• Bubble gum, you bet!
• Rainbow Koosh Ball on my work desk... sure!
• If I want to blow off a meeting to lie in a park enjoying the afternoon sun on my face, I'm going to do it.
• Dancing like a wild thing at festivals... oh yeah!
• Eating "Kiddie Cereal"... you bet!
• Riding Screaming Mimi the bright blue scooter as a 42 year old...? Why the hell not?
• Air guitar in the mirror... yup, I'm that girl.
• If I'm flipping through channels and come across a Muppet Show re-run, I'm going to watch it because it's funny.
• If I want to listen to heavy metal at full volume while wearing my headphones, why shouldn't I?
• If I want to have a flag pole on the back of my bicycle, I'll do it! (Note, get a flag for the bicycle - it sounds cool)
• If I want to go to a theme park and ride every damn ride there is, as long as there is no puking involved.. I'm in!

I don't care what people say or do, and no one else should either.

Whose life are we living?

Are we really here to gain the approval of others?

Will they be beside us at our deathbeds saying how right we were to obey all of society's rules?
No.

Do I want to get to the "jumping off place" only to have regrets about the way I've lived my life?
No.

"I want to die young at a ripe old age."
- Ashley Montagu

Remember:
Ageism will catch up with you.

So what do you do which defies society's ageism norms?
Come on... you know you do... or at least you WANT to!

Gay Pride Berlin - 2010

I ran across this post in my editor and realized that it had never been "published". Here you go... Snooker's take on Gay Pride in Berlin!

Have I said it here? I don't think so... I love Gay Pride Month.

In Berlin that means a month long celebration culminating in a street festival and then the CSD which is short for Christopher Street Day. The center of the city closes down for one of the world's largest Gay Pride Parades and I simply love it!

I love the goofy rainbow crap all over everything. I completely dig (gawd, can we still use words like that?) the bomp-bomp-bomp music, even better if I can feel it in my bones. Really, I just love the gays! Every single year is a wild and crazy adventure in who can be the wildest, craziest, raunchiest, maddest hatter around. Someone (dammned if I can remember who) said that it is a "ridiculous sweaty carnival of queertasticness". WOW! What a statement, and it is Sooo Frakking True!!

For me it is an affirmation of "my people". I wouldn't say "chosen family" since I didn't choose these people to be my family any more than I chose my blood relatives. What I guess I would like to say is that for better or for worse, these people have probably all had many of the same feelings I've had. That desire to question ?What is the definition of "normal sexuality"? has linked us in some strange way.

Sometimes it's good just to get together with "your people" and feel FAB-U-LOUS about yourselves. It's a wonderful feeling to know that we're all out there with a "We're here, We're Queer, Get Used to It" mentality.

Besides, I guess in the end I just like dancing my ass off!
And dance it off I did. Blogging Buddy Adam of "That Queer Expatriate" fame came up for the weekend to enjoy the non-stop party with me, and I hope I gave him some great pointers and as well as a good time.

He's covered the event very well in his blog post, including the part about camera envy even if he didn't get a good taste of vagina-envy. :)

Did you take copious amounts of pictures Snooker? OF COURSE I DID! Heck, I haven't even had TIME to look at the last half of the 500 or so... let alone edit them down. The way things are going, I won't get that done, either.

In the middle of the festivities I needed to go be a responsible adult and help Sweet No as she trained another set of scuba students. (I'm the official paparazzi. We give them a cool "this is what your training looked like DVD" when it is all over.) While that's all cool and good, what it meant was no alcohol for me during the parade. Hmmmm... this was certainly a different experience for me, let's just say.

After the diving I peeled off the neoprene (although something tells me I would have been OK showing up in it anyway) and took off to a ladies night CSD event.

How cool was that? Four dance floors, completely different music at each, probably 2,000 ladies there all for the purpose of havin' a great time, me and my buddies dancing into the wee hours of the mornin'. AHHHH PRICELESS!

All of this is overshadowed by one little, niggling thought in the back of my head, "Is this really something to be proud of?". My moment of indecision was helped along by a comment on one of my more "adult" images (at least of the ones I considered putting on Flickr). The commenter asks if I am proud of what is written on the Tshirt. Hmm... interesting query.

He's right, I'm not really PROUD of what is written on the Tshirt. Let's be frank... rarely are the antics of the wildest group seen at a Pride Parade something to be proud of. They are "in your face" with their sexuality, because that is what it is all about. Of course the cameras - mine included - are all pointing at the wildest examples of debauchery, it is our most basic instinct to be voyeurs. But for every wild and crazy person IN the parade, there were another 50 of the more "normal" variety along the sidelines.

Yeah, I've always been a big proponent of "Normal is a setting on my washing machine" thought process. But let's face it, if you have a full body tattoo, a HUGE nose ring and ear expanders I can get my thumb through, I bet that you're not working in an office 9 to 5. Which leads me to wonder what these people might be doing to help increase the GDP.

We’re here, we’re queer, and no one on the planet throws a better party than we do.

The Difference Between Snooker and Sweet No

Those who know Snooker and No personally would knowingly shake their heads in the affirmative with the thought of the two of us being compared to Ernie and Bert (or is it Bert and Ernie... now I'm confused... German Sesamstrasse says it one way, the Sesame Street of my youth says it the other). I'm short, rotund and prone to fits of giggles. Sweet No is tall and thin and while she has a rapier wit, it is usually so dry that most people don't get it until the next day... after a shower.

The differences between us are far and wide. She's a jogging freak, I'm a shade dog. I ride a scooter to work, she cruises along on pedal power riding her bike. She watches a maximum of 4 hours TV per week, while if given my druthers I would probably watch DVD's until the machine gave out. She is 12 years younger than me and grew up in Germany, while I'm feeling my age after living the traditional American "bigger is better, including my ass" lifestyle.

She has a HUGE thing about gummies (I'm talking Haribo Gummi Bears and the entire family... to the tune of a package or so a day), while I would rather enjoy salty, greasy foods. I take pictures almost exclusively above water, she takes pictures almost exclusively underwater (except for the cat... most pics of Frank are actually hers). We have age differences, and cultural differences, music and dancing differences, humor and laughter differences, ideas on planning and follow through, ideas on friends and friend management... really the list goes on.

In my daily life I've become accustomed to most of these contrasts. When No comes up with a weekend schedule planned out to the minute and all I want to do is relax in some park, I don't consider how unlike we are, I just try to work out a compromise for how we can both end up as happy as can be. I just don't think about it any more.

But yesterday afternoon I was rooting around in our dry goods cabinet looking for something to eat and it struck me. There were two jars of Nutella sitting side by side. One was from a time when I went shopping and picked up a jar of "chocolaty taste with a hint of that roasted nut flavor that will delight your taste buds as you enjoy each delicious mouthful". The other was newer and had obviously been purchased by No as a backup to an almost empty jar. She is the biggest user of the stuff, in fact she has "Nutella Bread" almost every morning. If it was getting low, she would usually be the one to notice it and work on a replacement.

What you see below are the two jars previously mentioned. On the right you find my 750 gram jar of chocolaty, velvety goodness, to the left is what looks to me to be a TEENSY 400 gram attempt at a jar of Nutella.

WHY would you buy such a small thing if it is going to be consumed in a reasonable amount of time and it has no chance of going bad? (about a month for that big one, I would say) To tell you the truth, I don't really know myself. I'm just posing the question.

Oh, and another difference between us...
When she sees the Nutella jar is empty, she puts it beside the trash for later separation into the glass container. When I see an empty Nutella jar, it is simply a challenge. One to which I will grab a table knife and sit down in front of a blaring TV with full intentions of getting each and every bit of Nutella out of that jar and into my gullet. Yeah... that's a HUGE difference... and quite possibly the reason for my wide ass.

What about you and your loved ones? Surely you have differences, even if the chasm isn't as wide as the one between No and myself. What is it which you would do differently from the ones you surround yourself with?

Been reading:

http://www.mormonproposition.com/
Interesting documentary about why and how the Mormon "Church" nee - PAC has insinuated itself into the entire gay marriage debate. Wanna see.

South African doctor invents female condoms with 'teeth' to fight rape - About time. I would hesitate for this though. Think about it, when would you use it? Isn't the bad part about rape that generally the victim doesn't know that it is going to happen? Do you just wear this thing all the time? Either way, it is interesting to see something like this being invented.

Cool World Cup Calendar

Rachel Maddow for President!

I'm lovin' Maddow. In fact, after watching this video I'm feeling a little girl crush. The video below hits me right in the heart. I am just like Rachel, I would really like to see these things officially said.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Not upset enough yet?
Go see these photos.

Karneval!!

The Karneval der Kulturen is ramping up in the city. 1.4 million people are expected to come out and enjoy one of the many festivities surrounding the event.

Check out a few pictures of my experience so far:







My much-loved Dresdner Brot.

That is Funky Chicken with an African drink, Dju Dju - Mango Beer.

Mimi (blue) found some friends while in my absence. Can't take that girl anywhere, as soon as I turn my back she's winkin' and flirtin' with the boys.
Just get out there and experience it for yourself!
Sunday is the parade, and as far as I'm concerned, the best part of the whole thing!

Post from Karneval der Kulturen 2008

May I say that working on Sweet No's computer... um... not exactly easy or necessarily nice. The post looks like crap simply because I don't have the right tools.

Dear Phoenix Sky Harbor Airport

Dear Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport,

My recent overnight stay in your older but generally uninteresting Terminal 2 due to a canceled red eye flight was not really the highlight of my trip, but it did certainly put an unusual cap on what had turned out to be a rather unpredictable excursion overseas.

Being part of a group of people who have just had their lives changed by those silly words, "Flight Canceled" is not always a nice experience, but at Sky Harbor, at least it wasn't sooo horrific. It must be said that at least the place is kept clean. Since I was not allowed to stay in the gate area, I was witness to the cleaning crews as they waged war on dust particles all along the "lobby". As I loitered in what must be the world's most uncomfortable seats I was treated to one woman "training" two others how to clean. Not really a lot of fun, but was very entertaining since none of the three had a common language.

I've been using Sky Harbor Airport since the mid 80's when jetways were a luxury and disembarking customers were shuttled down steps onto the slightly mushy tarmac which had been subjected to the heat of both jet engines as well as the wilting temps of the Phoenix desert weather.

Perhaps I should let it be known that I think the name Sky Harbor is fantastic. It is a harbor for things which fly through the sky. How simple, how eloquent, how lovely.

Also, the airport's fantastic location in relation to where my Mother lives has made visiting her oh so very simple. My Mother and brother live 10 and 15 minutes away respectively, how great is that? I can pretty much call my brother right after touch down and know that he will be waiting for me outside after I pick up my luggage.

IF they didn't live so close, there are great options such as the "Cell Phone Waiting Lot" system which is pure genius! How smart is that? Call your source of transportation as you see your bag pop out of the baggage claim, and BOOM, they drive directly out of the special lot to your pick up point!

May I just discuss another point of genius? Free Wi-Fi everywhere in the airport! How freaking fantastic is this? Flight canceled? Crank up that computer and see what else is available. Bored while waiting for your flight? Play some online video games, catch up on a little work, or simply research your next vacation.

Need to get a message to a passenger coming into Sky Harbor? You can either do this through the Internet, onsite at a special terminal, or by phone. At the baggage claim and at other areas throughout the terminal there are huge signs with PAL (Paging Assistance Location) displaying personal messages such as; "Bill and Judy, we'll be on the north side exit waiting for you at door number 5". Wow!

Years ago I had a proposal of marriage in one of PHX's terminals but perhaps the PAL system would have been better for this. The girl I was dating had been thinking for some time about popping the question to me. We were going to be in the same terminal of PHX within about 12 hours of each other. She called me and told me to visit the ladies restroom closest to blah blah (I say blah blah because I have long since forgotten the details) gate. Then I was to go into a particular stall and get my message. As I had suspected she was asking me again in a new and different way if I would marry her. No, I didn't take her up on it and later when we met again in Wichita I turned her down again. Moral of the story, never accept a proposal of marriage made in a toilet or from someone who would think that location was cool/romantic.

Then there was the Box Knife Incident. It was fall of 2002 and I was to catch a flight in Terminal 4. I went through security to my gate only to find it was still deserted because I was there so very early. Already seated there and looking bored was a woman who checked me out surreptitiously when I came to sit down. As I neared my chosen area I saw a box knife simply lying discarded on one of the seats. This was much like the weapons supposedly used by the terrorists on 9/11.

I approached it while visions danced through my head of the security detail I had just gone through to get to this supposedly "secure" area of the airport. Once again I met the eyes of the only other passenger in the waiting area. As I looked from her back to the box cutter I got the idea that she had already noticed what I had found and was also unwilling to touch it.

Eventually we talked about it and I told her that I would like to take the potential weapon of mass destruction to the check in desk, but that I would like her to confirm to anyone with further questions that it was sitting there before I had even made it to the area. She concurred and we talked for a minute or two about how that thing could have gotten past security and why on earth someone had abandoned it there. Soon I got up and carried it very cautiously (you know, by the edges to keep from smudging any possible fingerprints - have I watched too many cop shows or what?) over to the desk with three airline employees.

The airline representative took one look at what for me was a dangerous object and simply grabbed it out of my hand (not caring about any fingerprints, let me tell you) and threw it in the trash can at her feet. I nervously told her that it was not mine, that I had found it on a seat in the waiting area opposite, and that I was worried about it. She dismissively told me that I had done the right thing and that now it was safe. WTF? It was safe? In her trash can? To this day I often wonder if that was some kind of test.

Through the years I've been in and out of this airport MANY times. So many times that I know which side of the plane to sit on to get the best view of "A Mountain", and what time of day is best to see shadows on the ridges of the local physical geography. Want any of that goofy information? Simply ask.

OK, enough of airports... let's get a look at a frustrated kitty.
Oh, you have to watch through to the end. ;)

Judgement call

Saturday night Sweet No and I had a lovely dinner at one of our favorite haunts with a couple of friends. The food was wonderful as always, the atmosphere is quite nice, the wait staff friendly and helpful. Normally I would give the place a plug because generally I am so very happy with them, but what follows might not be so nice.

First for any folks who aren't knowledgeable about German restaurant paying traditions, I will let you know how we go about these things. After the meal the diners must track down and sometimes almost tackle the waiter/waitress to ask them for the bill. If paying as one, then the bill is settled right at the table. The server will produce a printed receipt and the customer will state a figure they are willing to pay, usually rounding up to the next Euro to add a tip, or if there are several people, include a few extra Euro. Then the waitress says thank you for the tip and gives the appropriate amount of money back.

But if you are in a group with people paying separately, this is where it becomes interesting. The waitress comes to the table with a printed receipt and asks what the first payer had through the evening. As the customer declares their part of the bill, the waitress makes a tick mark, eventually adding up all the ticks for a grand total for that customer. Then they are charged, tip is exchanged, and move on to the next person at the table until finished.

Back to Saturday night. Our bill was to be split into two sections, one for our friends across the table, one for No and Snooker. As our friends paid first, this meant that we would normally just pay the leftovers, making it a simple matter of subtraction of the total minus what our friends had already paid.

When I suggested this instead of the tick situation, the waitress frowned and said this wasn't possible, that part of our order was not on this bill. It seems that she had brought the receipt yet the most expensive part was not on this bill. My meal, over 16 Euro, was not included. I gave the young lady a face which let her know I wasn't happy, and she asked with a puckered-up face if we really needed an official receipt. As No answered that wouldn't be necessary, I watched the cat's ass face turn back into a smile. Eventually it was all figured out, money paid and she went away.

Immediately after she left I asked if I had missed something in that conversation (she dealt with No, the conversation was mostly whispered in German -- and let's face it, I was at a disadvantage there) that explained WHY the most expensive thing on our bill didn't happen to be on the receipt. No one else had an answer either, just that the lady had said it was not on the bill and would need to be added.

Ahem, I worked retail for more years than I care to admit and this smells fishy. It was my job to pour through the receipts of the cashiers and try to figure out how they were stealing money. Lots of people got their walking papers because I was able to prove that they were using self-clipped coupons to get cash for themselves, or were playing scratch off lottery cards with no money on the HOPE that they would win and pay for the game... talk about gambling.

Another lovely little trick was for the cashier to take a common item with a simple price and just add it to the total they would request from the customer. Candy bars were a common tool for this ploy. The cashier would enter the items by hand, not including the candy bar. Once she had a total, she would add the cost of the last candy bar (say .75) to the sum of the customer's purchases. This way the customer was paying the correct amount of money and would not fuss. Then she would pocket that .75 for herself, causing the store a net loss of .75 cents. Done many times throughout the day, this would merit some nice pocket change and be attributed to shoplifting.

Of course this could also be done through the simple "no sale", where a customer would buy only the candy bar and hand a dollar to the cashier. The cashier would hit "no sale" which opens the register so that she could give a quarter back to the customer, then take out her three quarters. Skimming is probably the number one crime in retail outlets. But the smart ones didn't do this too much because the register makes note of every time the button is pushed. You would be surprised how many never understood that I could see what they were doing quite easily. This is why if you ask for change AFTER the sale at any Wal-Mart type place that they have to call a "key person" to come open the drawer.

Which leads me back to our Saturday night and 16 Euro which passed under the radar for the restaurant. The woman who brought our ticket was not the same young girl who waited on us all night, but instead was a slightly older and more experienced woman who I would consider a "head waitress" or something similar.

My questions are thus:
Did the head waitress do this on purpose?
If so, is she pocketing the money, or is the overhead going directly back into the business for some reason?
Why was the head waitress the one who came for our money? Why not the original waitress? Does the restaurant keep the tip money, or maybe split it themselves between waitstaff, bar tenders and clean up crew?
If they do split this money, do the staff actually get to see the correct amount of the money we give them?
Am I just being too suspicious?
Are years of doing this for a living having an impact on my bullshit-o-meter?

What do you think about it?
Anyone care to speculate?

Advancing

A recent event in my life has slapped me right up side my head and reminded me that no matter how I feel, I am most certainly growing older. That crap of "You're as young as you feel" does not take into account how our bodies fall apart as we age.

In my case this week's failing body part is my eyes. It shouldn't come as any surprise to me that my eyes are wearing out. Years of gulping down every book which has passed my way while squinting through any kind of available light probably has something to do with it.

But I was really not prepared for the sweet little optician who obviously loves everything lime green to come up with a "well well, you are both near-sighted AND far-sighted and will need an appropriate prescription". When Sweet No heard this she audibly gasped to which little Miss Lime Green retorted, "Well, this happens to those above 40". Uh huh. Great. What do you say to that? Nothing.

No one told me that having bifocals meant that 1/3 of each lens would be unusable. WHAT is that about? They call it a progressive lens. Ahem, it doesn't feel very progressive to me if I have to constantly move my head about to see what I am actually looking at.

Of course I could have had the standard bifocal, but it would be readily apparent to anyone looking at me that I was wearing two lenses. Is it vanity that made me go for the progressive lens? Hmm... quite possibly so.

May I just say that no matter the reason, loss of my peripheral vision really sux?

?What other adjustments await me?

It has sprung...

It's been a long time since I've posted.
Sure, as I run across things which I think would be interesting, I think to myself... "I should blog this", but I never seem to find the time/energy/motivation/desire.

Thus this poor blog has been sitting out here all alone with only the comment spammers for friends. (Let me tell you, they are cunning little bastards, those spammers)

It's the wind up and a pitch... Swing! and away she goes....

SPRING IS HERE!! The official first day of spring was a let down, but the day directly afterward was fantastic, too bad that beautiful day was a Monday after a crappy weather weekend.

Spring always makes me think of new beginnings. For most people New Years Day is the traditional new beginnings day, but I'm just different that way.

And thus the list of differences between myself and the "normal" human gets another addition.

"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome." ~Anne Bradstreet

?How about you? When is the time for your "New Beginning"?
What time of year seems to be reasonable for having a second look at the direction you are taking?

I will leave you today with a must-see video.
It is a time-lapse of Vancouver. Normally time-lapse doesn't work so well for me, they don't seem correctly composed or something. Also it straddles a thin line between photograph and video which makes it seem like some kind of strange step-sister of this part of the visual arts.
But this one works on all fronts. The music captures the mood of the images perfectly, the camera moves and pans through the scenery with such flow and grace. LOVE IT!

Just drummin' along

The evidence is in... It has been too long since I've written an entry when readers like Goofball start using the comments section to ask my cat what the deal is and where his mommy is hiding.

There is no real reason for me to be so quiet. It isn't as though there is a lack of something to say. Often I find myself thinking, "I should blog this", yet never seem to find the time to do it.

If I didn't know better, I would say it is the Winter Blahs, but alas not. We've been traveling and enjoying ourselves quite a bit, surely it isn't the season.

At the base of it is that maybe I just don't FEEL like very creative in general, let alone writing. In the last months my picture taking frequency has gone down. There is even a great idea floating around my head about how to take some wonderful lightscape shots of the guitars... but it remains undone. Maybe it is just a lull in the creative juice flow."Waiting" It's a hand held shot at Potsdamer Platz right after seeing the world's worst movie, "The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus". (My apologies to other fans of Heath Ledger. But this was certainly NOT his best work. Too bad that it was his last)

The one thing in my recent life which was incredibly creative was masterminded by Sweet No. We happen to share a birthday, and were goofy enough to get married on that same day. So in the tradition of the Germans, we celebrate our special day by buying everyone else dinner and drinks and finding some way to entertain the entire group.

A few months ago Sweet No came up with the idea to have a party with a Jamaican theme. It seems reasonable, as we will someday soon pop over to see what is going on in the land of the Rastafarian. We thought it would also help to break up the monotonous Berlin gray winter weather if we had people wear festive Caribbean-style clothing and come ready for a tropical party.

In the end we had 24 people in a room with 30 conga drums and a harried, but quite professional drum teacher. In an hour we were making some nice rhythms; in one and a half it was starting to sound good.

The smiles and giggles from folks gave us an indication that our gamble was successful, people seemed to be having a good time. (It could of course have been the bubbly wine... who knows!!) Then off to dinner and more drinks, which while it was certainly more quiet, was fun in its own way. All in all it was a delightful afternoon/evening. Let's hope the guests think so too!

Been reading:

how we learned to stop worrying and love the trash - ClickClack Gorilla strikes again! I love this woman. Not only is she a perfectly lovely writer, but her message is one which resonates with me. Our society is WAY TOO centered on buying the "next big thing", and I don't think that it will lead anywhere we really want to be going.

Five years ago today...

Five years ago today I left my adopted hometown and moved to Berlin, Germany.

Five years ago
I awakened to the realization that "This is it". In a few hours I would be on a plane which would carry me across the Atlantic to live with Sweet No.

Five years ago
I gave Frank a "special pill" which would help him remain calm and hopefully help him hold his bladder for over 15 hours.

Five years ago
I called my mother to let her know that today is the day. I explained that my bed was being moved out of the apartment, the microwave was going to a neighbor, the cat box is in the trash (much to the chagrin of the dumpster-diver who crawled in a few minutes later), and "NO MOM, I'm not out of my cotton-picking mind".

Five years ago
I shoved Frank in a leather gym-bag-looking thing and told him that it was going to be just like our "dry runs"... that he would be getting out soon. (I just didn't tell him how long "soon" was.)

Five years ago
I walked away from my father and his wife as they stood in the Wichita airport and waved a bewildered good bye. Later my father confided that he wasn't sure he would ever see me again. This might explain the watery eyes and his strange insistence that I take a twenty dollar bill, "For the way there. You never know, you might just need it." (I still have that twenty. It stayed stashed in a special compartment of my wallet for over four years. Now it is on my desk.)

Five years ago
There was no way for me to explain to him that I had enough money, that I wasn't falling off the face of the Earth, and that I had thought this whole thing through many times. "For pete's sake Dad, I've been planning this a year."

Five years ago
I sat in Paris' Charles de Gaulle Airport and pondered my situation while the cat loudly expressed his discomfort and irritation at his situation. (Occasionally to amuse myself I closed the flaps on the bag and looked around at other people with interest and curiosity as though I too was trying to find the source of the howl which was at a volume and frequency only a Siamese cat can achieve.)

Five years ago
I was met at the Berlin airport by my Sweet No. For what seemed like an eternity we could only see each other through the glass as I waited in the secure area for my baggage. Eventually no new bags came, and yes as feared, once again Air France had lost one of my bags. GREAT. Now I'm even MORE thankful that I decided to pay the extra dough to keep the cat on the plane as carry on baggage. (The joke was on the guy who later had to deliver my bag - which weighed exactly 50.1 pounds - up four flights of stairs.)

Five years ago
I wheeled a cart out of security which held only one of my bags and a very pissy cat.

Five years ago
I knew the instant No and I hugged for the first time as a true "cohabitating couple" that four years of waiting for this moment was way too long and that my decision to move to be with her had been the right one.

Five years later... I look back on this time spent together and know deep in my heart that I have not regretted any of it, not for a moment.