Bridges

Garden Bridge

My mother would be turning 90 today, if she had survived last Fall. It is also the 21st anniversary of Aim, my first partner. Neither of them are here, and yet the life I have now wouldn't exist without them. My mother gave to me her entire life. Being able to buy the house we now live in was the final gift she gave me, after she left this world behind. I've got at least six years more on life than Aim ever did, but he is always going to be the older, wiser voice in my head.

Last night I watched my first movie on the new TV. Since buying it, we have watched Survivor twice - and other than an afternoon of channel surfing to check it out, have watched nothing else. The TV shows, at least those that are not in HDTV, come out looking circus mirror distorted and the digital effect is inconsistent, sometimes being lifelike clear, at other times little more than an early generation ViewMaster, and still others a bunch of haze. The movie however came in crystal clear. It was Crazy Love, a documentary about Burt and Linda Pugach - a couple I had only the tiniest memory of hearing about in the past. He is a rich ambulance chasing lawyer obsessed with her, but doesn't mention he is married as he pursues her love. She doesn't take too kindly to that when she finds out and dumps him to start dating a dream lover. A few days before her marriage to dream lover, he hires a couple of thugs to toss acid in her face, blinding her. Off he goes to prison to spend a few years in solitary and electric shock therapy. She travels the world with 20% sight in one eye and incredibly mod outfits and sunglasses. After his release he pursues her again, and because she has been unable to form any other intimate relationship of substantial duration, she agrees to marry him. 30 some odd years later, they remain married. Now she is totally sightless. Everyone in the film is a character. Comedy is tragedy plus time - only it is unclear throughout if there has been enough time for the former to trump the latter. Both battle it out - him and her, comedy and tragedy. Amazing film.

This morning I had to stand, even on the later bus. It wasn't so bad. I put a podcast of Coffee Geek on my iPod and got to look out of windows on both sides as we crossed the bridge and entered downtown. I still feel like a fabulous 70's era sitcom star when I hop off the bus and walk the three blocks in the middle of town to get on the streetcar. I'm only missing a few feelgood moments with a smiling hat tipping doorman, an old woman crossing the street that I help avoid getting splashed by the delivery truck with my quick matador flick of an overcoat, and a racing businessman who double takes and U turns to offer me his coffee that he won't have time to drink before flying through the office doors - all set to bright cheerful music to make my morning dream come true. City Boy - You Got The World On Your Side!

Mancub went to a Boy Scouts meeting last night, or as Papa Seed and I called it; The Homophobic Boy Scouts Meeting. After letting him know why it wasn't something that we would suggest he do, we told him that he was free to go just as he is free to go and explore any church, political group, or interest that doesn't involve threats or actual physical violence (except of course for wrestling, which we totally approve of). The main draw is that two of his new best friends go. Last night he said it wasn't all that great - that it was just a bunch of people who think they are better than anyone else (Really? A homophobic organization with folks who think they are better than others? Stop the press!!!) He may continue to go, so that he can hang out with his friends. That is fine, but we aren't going to volunteer to help out with their camping trips. We also got the report back that his two friends thought coming over here was awesome, and that one of them is now in love with the Taco Truck. Ha! Gay Dads at the Taco Truck trumps learning to tie knots in the church basement. He shoots, he scores!

In spite of the folks in an on line forum who tried to tell me that being a Gay Dad meant child abuse, and that I was trying to turn him into a homosexual, our goal is to make sure he gets to explore whatever he feels a calling to explore while knowing he is always going to be safe and loved at home. Let the kid go through whatever phases he has in his future - even if that means being a Mormon or an Aerosmith fan (but please don't let him explore being a Scientologist or a Libertarian, my strength in these matters has limits). He can make his world whatever he wants it to be, and there will always be a bridge back home.