I went on a shopping spree last week which is a rarity for me—unless it has to do with food for the home and/or eating out–and will get to how and why shortly but first let me tell you what I got!
Ever since I ‘fell’ off my recliner December 19 I have been leery of sitting in it because I don’t know how it happened! I had been watching TV at 10 PM and then found myself on the floor bleeding. I have been thinking of getting a new recliner and one day Allen took me around to a few stores and I was really surprised at the prices, most around $6-700 and they weren’t the best!!! I came home and looked at a few web sites, like Target, which were a little less expensive but since recliners come in all widths and lengths I knew I would want to try it out first. When we went to Target they didn’t have any in the store and then we went to Walmart (hey, I was desperate) and where they had what seems like of hundreds of different ones in the store they had TWO!
On the way home we passed the humongous Salvation store and I suggested we stop there. Within minutes, and after trying about a dozen different ones, I settled on the one pictured above and it was delivered the next day! I have now been using it for a week and it is just what I needed/wanted!
Just as an aside: many times in my life I had bought items not worrying/thinking about what they would cost or how long they would last (Mmmm—can that be why I declared bankruptcy twice and I am poor now?) and it was the ‘lasting’ question that was in my mind. Okay, surprise! Surprise!, I don’t think I will live forever. I am 86 and have had a few health problems lately so did it make sense to spend $700 for a recliner when I may not be around too long and even if I was would ‘they’ let me take the recliner to a nursing home? I felt good about this purchase for the recliner, delivery and taking my old one all for under $140!
Now I really don’t know what made me make the next 3 purchases! I’ve been using mats/rugs for the bathroom that I have bought at The Dollar Tree, all colors and designs, but now I decided to buy WHITE mats/rugs. I got 3 sets and they aren’t a dollar each! And never gave a thought to keeping them clean or how to maintain them but are so-o-o–o-o soft and white looking!!! :O)
For the past couple of years I have been getting emails, snail mails, notices about getting a piece of equipment that I could carry on my person 24/7, indoors, outdoors, in the shower, etc., and it wasn’t until the recliner incident that I started to give thought to get one. I didn’t like another monthly charge that is cost to get most plus the equipment charge which could be high. Eventually that made me look over the Fasthelp which had one flat price and no monthly charge and, of course, it was on ‘special’—only $149 instead of $299. I read a few reviews, ordered it and though it is easy to get working it has one negative to me–you get 911 but you have to give your location and I immediately thought about laying on the floor, bleeding and not conscious–how would/could I give my address? In any case I am keeping it and give it the 30 day trial.
Last, but not least, though I hate phones, landline or cellular, I decided to get a new phone–it is larger and supposedly does more things than my old one did it is/was like relearning how to use a cellphone! Plus I have messed up a few icons regarding photos so now I have to work to get that right.
This is a little longer than I usually post but I do want to explain where the money for all the above came from. I wish someone had a camera when I opened the letter and a check fell out with a lovely letter. I really don’t expect to be named in people’s Wills–at least money wise—because most of my friends are not in the wealthy class and I know even if ‘comfortable’ they have to be careful with their money. In this case, a dear friend, decided that instead of waiting til later they would give the money NOW–I was flabbergasted for many reasons but mainly that even though we had become very close over the past decade I was so touched that they would think of me and their Will. And I will keep and read their letter because words and actions are—and will always be–more important than money
For 21 years Peter and I have been exchanging emails, commenting on each other’s blogs and discussing everything from politics to people to social issues but I hadn’t heard from him for a month and I started to get worried. I emailed him a few times and no response. I tried to get hold of his book publishers and then I started to wonder if something had happened. He and his partner Hans have been together for over 50 years but I only know Hans from a picture of the two of them. I don’t know if he has Peter’s passwords or even uses a computer.With snail mail chances are if the receiver is deceased you will get a notice to that effect IF the person you live with informs the PO–with email it just piles up in the inbox! I thought I had their home address but I can’t seem to find it but I will keep on looking.In any case I started to think about the many people who have touched my life over the years and all of a sudden all communication stopped and I wondered what happened to them. Did they just change their life and didn’t have time to keep in contact with old friends? Were they so busy they didn’t have time? Okay, granted, most were old now so there was always the possibility they died but if they had a partner wouldn’t the partner inform their friends via social media?I thought back to my teenage years and my next door neighbor Jerry who really helped me when I needed help but when he? me? moved away we stopped communicating. There were the ‘Joes’–redhead Joe from the Bronx, Joe Dorcette from the Brass Rail, Joe the Greek from Miami Beach–I was close to all of them but haven’t heard from any of them in decades!There were the WW/OW ‘girls’–Margie, Barbara, Carole, Bella, Elaine, Shirley, Bonnie Giem, just to name a few who I haven’t heard from since 1979 when I left Tennessee.Talking about Tennessee I haven’t heard from that Joe nor after Issac Searcy visited Micheal and me here in Fort Lauderdale I never heard from him again just as I haven’t heard from anyone in Chattanooga or Memphis (okay Nina and Jean live in Texas now and Glenn lives in Georgia). Close friends I made in Hollywood, California and Hollywood, Florida, are no longer in my life.Jose (Pepe) Cuesta who was very important in my life in the 1960s never missed my birthday, even when I moved to Memphis in 1969 he acknowledged it and even came to Memphis to see me and Johnny in 1975 but he never showed for my 10th Leap Year gala in 1976 and I have never heard from him again. Bob Kingsbury, Bob Barry, Bernie Abraham are a few I know have died but how many else have and I don’t know!Surprisingly recently I was contacted by Mark and Emir who I haven’t heard from in years, the former who I met in Memphis but surprised me by coming to my Leap Year birthday party in 1992 in Fort Lauderdale, due to their seeing me on Facebook. I was thinking of just listing names and downloading pictures on my facebook page as I had done a brief, very brief, search once there years ago and I did get in touch with 2 women I knew as girls in the Bronx–whatever happened to Susan Schwartz???I could go on for pages naming names and asking what happened to them but I don’t think many people would read them. I do know I arranged for a small comment to be made on my posts about my dying when it happens so people will know whether they care or not–at least they won’t wonder “Whatever happened to GreatMartin?”
With all due respect, you kids (anyone under 60) shouldn’t believe the lies that old people tell you!
Age is NOT just a number.
You are NOT as old as you feel.
60 is NOT the new 40.
Should I go on? Your body will tell you first thing in the morning when you try to get up that, yes, you are old. The medicines in your cabinet tell you that you are old. Doctor visits tell you that you are old. Now I can go on and tell you all the ways you will know you are old but we weren’t told so why should I spoil your fun (and moaning and groaning) as you find out.
But, and this is a big but (not to mention that most of you will get a big butt as you age!) getting old is great in many ways such as you know that worrying is a waste of time!
Let’s not talk about all the ‘specials’ you get such as reduced restaurant bills at Denny’s or the fact that you can rant and rave in restaurants, after you have cleaned your plates, about how bad the food is, how horrible the service was and the manager will pick up your check just to get rid of you. You can got to supermarkets on certain days and get 20% off. (And there are a lot more financial advantages off-set by higher medical bills!)
Complaining is an art for old people as is telling the young know it alls that they don’t know anything until they become old people who do know it all.
Biscuit, Mimi and Dallas, in the picture, are constantly told that ‘you don’t act 14, as they say out loud, ‘how old you really are in dog years?’. (Let’s just say Rian is over 14! LOL)
I constantly hear, “You don’t look/act like you are 82/83 years old!” in a surprised voice. Then when I tell them I am actually 20, being a Leap Year baby, they are silent!
What does a 82-year-old man look like? I live in a community of about 300 seniors and, let’s say, a third are men. I can line up 5 guys in around 80 and one will have a walker, another will be carrying an oxygen tank, the third will have just returned from a jog to the beach and back while the 4th will be in a wheelchair being pushed down to The Point. I am the 5th–the one who drank too much as a youth and had to stop (January 21, 1981, when I was 45) because I was having blackouts. I’m the guy who smoked 2-3 packs of cigarettes a day for 60 years and stopped (July 21, 2008) when I had to have an aorta valve replacement. I am a guy who ate all the wrong foods for years and lost 100+ pounds in March 1967 when I was 31 and for the last 50 years have been fighting between 11 and 25 pounds (depending on the month of the year).
I have PAD, fight high blood pressure and cholesterol, am a pre-diabetic, have AFIB, COPD, take blood thinners among 13 other meds, see a primary doctor a minimum of 4 times a year plus 6 specialists at least once a year and take a home test every two weeks to get my INR count.
“You don’t look 82!” Thanks but you haven’t seen my insides! I look in the mirror and I see the kid that will be 21 on Saturday, February 29, 2020, but when I get up in the morning or walk the steps up to my apartment or go to climb a step-ladder to hang a picture I know what 82/83 looks like!
Hey keep on saying “You don’t look 82!” and I will say “Thank You” because I have learned how to accept a compliment without adding ‘but’.
Oh yes, I promise to never say “When I was your age…..”.
“They” say when you lose weight your stomach shrinks but they couldn’t prove it by me. After I lost my 100+ pounds I never had a problem eating as much as I wanted including New Year’s weekend 1999-2000. A couple of hours after eating a 5-pound ham (minus whatever the bone weighed) plus 2 liters of diet cola I somehow managed to get to the phone, call 911 and don’t remember much after that until I woke up in the hospital and was told I had a case of congestive heart failure. One benefit was I probably lost the weight I gained eating that ham after a few days in the hospital. (An aside: that’s when I started the meds that I wrote about the other day.)
Lack of Moderation or addiction?
PLANTS
I have 28 potted plants in my apartment. I’ve always loved plants/flowers and I usually had a couple around me but when and/or how did it become ‘obsessive’? By taking cuttings a planting them I, somehow, have Christmas Cacti that bloom around Christmas, Easter and, somehow or other, in February, especially every 4 years around February 29th!! That was crazy but I have the pictures to prove it over the past 3 (12 years) Leap Year birthdays. When we got new owners of Gateway the first rule they made was ‘no plants outside the apartment’ so I had a choice of either throwing some of them out and bringing in the rest to my apartment which is what I did. I originally had over 30 plants so, at least I rationalized, I had less now. That was good, wasn’t it? Moderation? Addiction?
BIRDS
I’ve always had a pet, usually a dog but sometimes either fresh or saltwater fish sometimes both. Now that I was old(er)—I wasn’t old at that time–I really didn’t want the responsibility of a dog plus I would have to give a $500 deposit, which I didn’t have and, living on the second floor, back then, fish tanks were out of the question. I don’t recall who mentioned it first but at work someone suggested a bird. I gave it some thought and said: “Why not?” Possibly if I had done some research I wouldn’t have gone in that direction but I didn’t, so I did.
I started with 1 budgie—you know them as parakeets–then I had 2. Jill surprised me with a cockatiel and, once again I had 2. Her budgie hatched a few eggs and she gave me 2. Then I made a mistake by buying a pair of finches! Folks they are worse than rabbits. Before I knew it I had 21 finches, 3 budgies (1 had died) and 2 ‘tiels in 6 cages!
It wasn’t long after that my doctor told me because of having COPD the dander from the birds was making it worse and I would have to get rid of them. I immediately thought of a couple of birds that had low or no dander but I couldn’t have them because of my taking blood thinner there was the danger they would bite me, break the skin and cause problems, whereas the birds I did have wouldn’t do that damage. Now I was without a bird! Obviously not moderation but what about addiction?
By the way birds are the easiest pets to have and take care of so keep that in mind.
(To be continued–with carrot cake, ice cream, pizza, cookies, etc.)
In February 1972, psychiatrist Joe Cassius told me in a therapy session in Memphis, Tennessee, that I had “an addictive personality” and that even when it came to Transactional Analysis I didn’t practice moderation.
Addict:
1) To give oneself up to something habitually
2) To cause a person to depend physically on a drug
Moderation: Not extreme, excessive or intense
Can you be addicted to food, books, smoking, alcohol, plants, coffee, tea, soda, water, the Internet, movies, magazines, television, sex, love, theatre, particular movie or Broadway show, etc.?
Yes, I know smoking and alcohol can be considered drugs but what about any of the other items I listed?
I have been addicted to every item on that list, yes, including a Broadway show. Having seen “A Chorus Line” 101 times, traveling all over the United States, going to a city for a weekend and seeing it Friday Evening, Saturday afternoon and evening and Sundays which includes, aside from paying for the tickets, paying for hotels, meals, drinking (well at least the last 5 years of the 1970s) and other expenses, would you call it by giving up to something habitually, my being an addict?
On the definition of moderation, it is a word that I don’t recall ever following. For 60 years of my life I smoked 2-3 packs of cigarettes every day until July 28, 2008, when I had my last smoke before going into the operating room for an aorta valve replacement.
From my teen years until January 21, 1981, I drank alcohol, many times excessively, until that morning when I woke home and didn’t know how or when I got home nor what I did or even I had my car. I have not had a drink or a meal made with alcohol since.
How about another example of moderation not practiced that may sound silly but can reading be a ‘drug’? I use to read 5-6, if not more, books a month and in the past 2 and a half years I don’t think I have read that many! Someone sent me Larry Kramer’s “The American People Volume 1” for my birthday in February 2016 and I still haven’t finished it though he is my favorite living author. Oh yes, I did finish reading 2 books a friend sent me but that’s been it.
Of course, my biggest drug has been food and even that I don’t know from moderation. When I was on a diet I was on a diet and when I wasn’t I was eating everything in sight.
(ALLEN ON LEFT AND ME ON RIGHT DOING PUBLICITY FOR “ANNIE”)
There is pure joy coming into an unexpected perfect day and this was one of them.
I slept in a little later than usual, got up, did my usual look in the mirror and saying out loud, “You’re okay Martin!” and getting that smile on my face.
Had orange juice and coffee then checked my emails and posted a couple of blogs plus making a few draft posts to get ahead.
Around one o’clock, looking outside, I decided to take two of the many magazines piled up on my table and go seat outside and do some reading.
I wish I could describe the feeling that engulfed me when I walked out of the building towards the water. The warmth of the sun seemed to wrap around me while a breeze kept it from being too hot. My legs didn’t hurt, I didn’t have a care in the world and life just seemed to be glorious.
I sat on the bench and started to read one of the magazines but I couldn’t concentrate as the combination of the sun, the breeze, the blue water and sky, the large green tree and just the feeling of peace seemed top ask me to relax and just look around.
In addition to relaxing and looking around I took my camera and did a short video so that I would remember this day. This is the video–this is the day.
No matter what may happen this day, the rest of this month, the rest of 2014, I know I will carry this perfect day, Sunday, October 19, 2014, with me until the next perfect day comes a long and I know it will!
Walking down the Sabana Grande Boulevard Stephen and I played the old cruising game that made me felt I was back on Times Square. We would stop at different shops and sort of look at each other through the reflections of the windows, walk a bit more, a couple of more looks until I just waited for him to reach ‘my’ window. He spoke very little English but seeing the Damon gay guide in my hand he took it and pointed to a bar listed in it and then pointed at himself. I figured he wanted me to follow him at the bar which I did to find out that he owned it. He introduced me to John who spoke fluent English and Raphael who was moving to Los Angeles on Saturday and Marco and Hector, 2 very wealthy effeminate guys. The six of us spent the late afternoon, early evening going from place to place. John, Ralph and Stephen agreed to pick me up at the Hilton and then we would go out for dinner and they would show me more of Caracas.
As I had a couple of hours before they would come to pick me up I went for a swim in the hotel pool and for a quick massage. The guy did a good job and when he, shyly, asked if he could come up to my room later to give me another massage I got the message and smiled shaking my head yes. I explained about my plans for the evening and I had no idea how they would and he said if I wasn’t back by midnight he would come to my room and wake me up with a massage in the morning.
I don’t remember the restaurant we went to but I did make note of what I ate and it was black bean soup and a Hallaca, which is a Venezuelan dish that is an important part of the Christmas holiday but served all year round. It is made of meat, pork, chicken, rice, olives, onions, raisins, etc., wrapped in a thick bean paste and then covered by banana leaves. It was huge, great and tasty. I wouldn’t taste it again until 30 years later in a Venezuelan restaurant in Fort Lauderdale and that brought back all the memories of the days and evenings I spent in Caracas.
I had an interesting night in more ways then one but we won’t go into that and I started the day off with that massage! I met Marco and Hector in the hotel Lobby and they were going to take me sightseeing. I don’t know if this is when it all started but I do know that I had to cancel most of the sightseeing as I was getting what I thought was a bad cold. My nose was continuously stuffed up, I was coughing and what was rare for me I had the start of a headache.
Until I left Caracas on August 4th I was more or less in a haze. I was doing way too much drinking being hung-over every morning and what I though t was a cold was getting worse. Along with everything else if I had been in better shape I would have enjoyed it but I was having way too much sex, if there is such a thing.
I did meet a guy who was having lunch alone in the hotel dining room and I asked him if he would like company and he nodded his head yes. Turned out he was a charter travel agent in Minneapolis and he had booked a tout in Spain for Jan who was the owner of the WW franchise there. After lunch we went to the bar where we met a guy from Washington, D. C. Let’s just say we all got smashed and leave it at that.
I arrived back in Rio on Friday July 27th and picked up right where I left off as if I had never left. I was just getting to ‘swing’ in Rio, spent a great day and night at Ipanema beach where the speedos and bikinis were even smaller than on the Copacabana beach!
Back at Rio, staying in another hotel, the Nacional, I met Denny and Claudio and the 3 of us went out to eat and I had 6 huge linguias which were smoked sausages with garlic and were finger licking good! After dinner we went to 2 gay dancing bars and I got smashed. We spent the night at Claudio’s place and I finally got back to the hotel at Noon two days later!
On the 30th I was going to take off to Caracas where I would spend 5 nights. I was by now familiar with the exchange rate of money in Rio, knew my way around on the beach, had made some ‘friends’ and it was time to leave. I did a lot of shopping before I left Rio getting everyone in Memphis gifts and decided unless I saw something very special I wouldn’t buy anything else. I did buy a boar’s tooth on a gold necklace for me.
I was doing a lot of charging and out of the $1200 I brought with me I still had $690 left with 12 days, or so I thought, to go before I returned home. I understood Caracas was the most expensive city in South America and the 3rd most expensive city in the world.
I arrived in Caracas at 5 AM after having been very sick on the plane which is very rare for me and may have been the beginning of the end for my trip. I was still a little shaky in the afternoon after I had taken a nap and sent my clothes to the cleaners. I was spending 5 nights here so I had time to get things done before the rest of the trip. I was staying away from the night life which was good and the hotel was situated in the financial and cultural center of the city. I planned to take it easy my first night just inspecting the hotel and the area around it. I watched TV for awhile–did you ever hear Van Heflin dubbed in Spanish? Heck do you kids even know who Van Heflin was?
The next day I took a walk to the “Broadway” of Caracas and was surprised the gay guide didn’t have anything listed for that area. I did come across their new Museum of Modern Art that had opened a few months before I go there and was not only a magnificent building but their art collection put the Museum of Modern Art in New York to shame. See my traveling wasn’t all about sex!!! LOL
Still feeling a little queasy I went to the hotel’s health club and after getting a massage and spending some time in the sauna I felt a little better. The masseuse had suggested I take a walk down to the Sabana Grande area which was THE boulevard of Caracas having all kinds of shops, artists doing their work on the streets, gallerias and sort of reminded me of Washington Square in Greenwich Village in New York. Walking along the Boulevard I got ’lucky’ and met Stephen.
From 8 PM until 1 AM it seems like I am doing a lot of things but I never feel rushed or pressured. Along with eating dinner, posting my blogs, responding to those who have commented on my blogs, checking out a few web sites like groupons for special dining out coupons or mypoints.com I am usually corresponding with Mary and/or Sharon or taking a quick look at face book or like this past week, Memphis Chuck is ‘hacking’ (with my permission LOL) into my computer to get rid of the many mistakes I make which in turn slows the machine down.
While doing all that I am watching TV shows such as “Suits”, “Graceland” which one of our resident has a role in, “The Bridge”, “True Blood” and /or “Taxi Brooklyn” not to forget “Big Brother” as I wait for Zach to be kicked off. At 11PM it is the late night news to see if I have won the lottery or power ball and having to hear about the latest killings, war, child abduction and animal abuse.
11:30 PM the TV goes off and I relax for an half hour playing Free Cell, Hearts and Bingo before walking outside for another half hour just to watch the stars and moon and taking a walk to The Point which at this time I have all to myself feeling as if I own the whole world. Then back home, get into bed and read books until the eyes won’t stay open anymore.
What makes this just another special day was that I woke up in the morning and had another day of life. Some days may be better or worse than others but as long as I wake up in the morning I am ready for anything and grateful to be faced by Mother Nature once again. She never stops giving and even in her furious days there is magic in seeing what she can and does accomplish. She can test us like no one else can and then all of a sudden knock us over with a rainbow or a sunset.
Give me that chance of waking up in the morning, walking out of my dark bedroom into the light from outside and I know it is just another special day.
THE ONLY BLACK EGRET OF THE WHITE BUNCH THAT COMES OUT AFTER THE RAIN.
It was 1 PM, all the calls made, all the emails answered and time to face the world. I took the Hollywood Reporter, the Time Magazine and Entertainment Weekly, all devoted to the death of Robin Williams. I was going down to The Point where I would read them and in between talk to a few neighbors sitting there or passing by. If there was any one spot in Fort Lauderdale that Mother Nature shined it was here. Boats were docked all over Karen Bay while those on paddleboards or being towed by boats in rubber rafts would pass by. There would be the occasional fish jumping out of the water, a bird flying by or a plane leaving a jet stream as they passed by.
Because of medicine I was taking I wasn’t suppose to be out in the sun too long or go swimming in the pool but I would now and then even though in the summer in South Florida you don’t jump into the water, not even the Atlantic ocean, to cool off as the water temperature is usually higher than the air temperature but just floating on your back, looking up at the sky and get lost in my surroundings.
After 2-3 hours of pure relaxation disturbed only by the negative news regarding the world situation and the sadness of the death of Robin Williams not to mention briefer recollections of Lauren Bacall who personified a special time in Hollywood history it was time to go back to the apartment. It was just another special afternoon in a special life treasured by me for each minute.
Between the hours of 5-7 have almost become a ritual for me. I would sit at my computer desk which overlooked the windows and I would watch the beginning of the sunset or, as was a given in the summer time, the rains coming down, watering all of the fauna that surrounded the buildings making the green sparkle as the lowering sun played its colors.
I would go downstairs for my mail around 5:30-6, talk to a few neighbors as we waited for Mark, the mailman, to distribute the eagerly awaited letters from friends and family, if they snail mailed anymore, and the not so eagerly waited bills and junk mail. I would go back upstairs to watch Diane Sawyer and the evening news followed by Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. If it was Wednesday evening I would have to get things ready for Thursday when Allen would take me shopping and take me to run my errands plus we would go out for lunch. I would also bring out my high blood pressure kit plus my INR home testing kit, both of which I would use Thursday morning and then call in the results.
Now just another special day was turning into another special evening.