Duncan's Blog

I came across someone on SILVERDADDIES and decided to chat him up. He has those masculine drop-dead gorgeous good looks and piercing blue eyes. I'm not quite sure what it is that piercing blue eyes pierce, but he's certainly got them. We also connected on another more popular social media website that I'm not allowed to mention here. I think that social media website sometimes goes by the name META. Anyway, even though he is 1,800+ miles away, he let me know of his HIV+ status and added that that is usually a deal breaker.
"People opt not to be your friend or to communicate with you if they know you are HIV+."
"Pretty much."
That really saddens me. It's not like I'm looking for a bareback partner. There are certainly many unevolved guys out there in the social circles.

I was invited to spend a week with someone I had dated when I was in college. My love was not reciprocated back then. He was not out. His feelings were never spoken (unless he felt contempt or wanted to mock someone). He was pretty selfish most of the time. And full of himself.
Back then his greatest aspiration was to get high or buzzed. He drank Colt45 and toked weed which he would blow out the window through the tube from paper towels. His alternate state of consciousness was more important than sharing anything meaningful with another person (unless the other person were a dealer).
So, when I went to his home in Florida (some 45 years after I had first met him), he had a KiA with lots of beach sand in it. He never drove when he lived in New York. His driving is reckless; he exceeds the speed limit by 15 or 20 miles/hour, he slams on the break when the car in front of his slows down, and he vapes pot while driving. He claims that it's okay since it doesn't give a buzz. (No buzz? What up with that? Why bother?)
There were other things along the way that were annoyances such as a refusal to get off the road for a stretch or pee break (I have an active bladder and had no idea that anyone would be so obsessed with speeding to get to a destination).
I spent a good deal of the vacation on my own. That was actually a treat as I had certain food interests that my host didn't share. I was also relegated to sleeping on a pull-out sofa that had one very uncomfortable mattress. I wound up sleeping on it while it remained a sofa.
At the end of the trip, I thanked him for the vacation. I paid for half the gas and treated him to a few dinners (with other people whom I did not know). I sent him a gift card to the OLIVE GARDEN. I have only spoken to him once or twice since my return.
It's hard for me to believe that after 45 years I had refused to overlook this man's selfishness and need to be high all the time. I'm also sad that he never learned how to love someone else. Oh well.... his loss. One thing for sure, however, is that I will never vacation with him again!

Tienes humo en la cabeza, pero tus datos están en la nube.
Today I contacted the IT man at work to do something with my computer. I tried to get the email program to open, but while the function was thinking about working, I was almost mesmerized by a circular disc that made a clockwise motion (a variation on the vintage hourglass, I guess). Anyway, after an hour and a half, Mr IT decided that I needed a new computer... the console portion.
I had to contact a more senior IT guy on the west side to have him install a shared email account to my Outlook. We did the shared screen which is always fun to watch. Some folks can manipulate that mouse with lightning speed. Me, I still use ALT + TAB to impress people.
It's been 2½ hours since the console was installed and the shared email account was attached. WINDOWS is dragging a** because my data is migrating from the cloud.
I never really know what to think of this cloud. Where is it and why is it holding my texts and attachments, pdfs, ppts, gifs, and the like instead of holding moisture? I've flown through clouds like Sr Bertrille and they are nothing more than a visible body of very fine water droplets or ice particles suspended in the atmosphere at altitudes ranging up to several miles above sea level. They are formed when air that contains water vapor cools below the dew point.
A distinguishable mass of particles or gas, such as the collection of gases and dust in a nebula.
So, they are cold and they are moist. Who named the imaginary repository of data 'the cloud'? It's one of those intangibles like the web or the Internet.
There are days that go by in my life when I get a sense that my mind is not thinking. I am able to do complex tasks such as drive, prepare meals, perform the three S-es (sh*t, shower, and shave), and do cost comparative shopping at ALDI, but I am left with the notion that no real thought has gone into any of this. Even when I come up with small notions or ideas to express in a blog, I sense that there is no real meaning behind any of this writing.
Why, therefore, to I bother ?

I'm so glad I speak EFL. I don't think I would want to have to learn English idioms to the point of having them intuitively understood. Wash up is a reflexive as in, "Gonna warsh m'self up 'fore suppertime." Wash down is done on an object such as a ceiling for floor clean up as in "Gonna warsh down them there walls with vinegar an' a scrub brush!"
This came to mind during laundry night. There are times of the day when it is best to do laundry; presumably late at night when water consumption isn't particularly high. It's 1:00 am on a Sunday and I'm sure there aren't too many people in my neighborhood who are concerned with their water pressure.
I spent a week this month with a retired Spanish teacher. I had forgotten just how full of himself he could be. A big show off and know-it-all. I dread being mistaken for someone like that. On the same week vacation, I was mistaken for a vegetarian, someone who might be in AA, and someone who "looks hungry". Amazing what other people read into me at times.

FL, for those unfamiliar with the USA state abbreviations, is Florida. I spent a week there; flew to Tampa where my friend lies and then we drove to Key West. According to the map, it's about 435 miles and takes about 7½ to 8 hours to drive there. It took less because my host opted to do the lion's share of driving and he drives like a maniac.
We stayed at my host's friend's timeshare. She has two time shares that she rents at the same time. One she leases out so that she is always guaranteed that a friend or acquaintance or vested individual will be there while she is there.
My host spent an inordinate amount of time in the pool. I thought it odd since he lives in a retirement community that also has a pool. But this way he got a chance to engage others in his brilliance and show off his higher level of intelligence to a different set of folks. What showed up at the pool, however, were pro-Tr*mp (rally) republicans who smoked cigarettes and/or cigars and drank alcohol. While my friend is currently sustaining (without Program), he has always been anti-tobacco. Not surprisingly, he is pro-pot. Back when I first met him, tobacco was legal everywhere (even on campus), but pot was not. The anti-tobacco signage at the pool indicated that the management would request that the smoker(s) be considerate of others. With republican pro-45ers in the water? Ha!
My host was also 'hanging' with the F2F crowd and I thought that they might have preferred being with their own at mealtime. He invited himself along and added me to the group. Their choice of restaurants were a bit pricey, and while he had originally agreed to pay my way, the hospitality ended when he opened the menu and saw the costs of appetizers and entrées. I chose the meatless dishes and got quite the inquisition... "You're not vegetarian, are you?" they'd ask in horror. "No," I'd reply, "I don't eat shellfish." (Their choices were seafood restaurants). Then my host asked me in front of others, "I can't believe you don't eat calamari." I told him that I have allergies. I would have told him something else, but I was in polite company.
I spent quite a bit of time on my own. I wandered and strolled without a map (I had my cell and I knew how to pull up a routing program) and opted to have ample amounts of Cuban food on my own. These were not the rice-and-beans eaters, although they did perk up their collective ears when I had told them that I was lunching at the Falafel King near the Aquarium. When I had returned, they asked me how it was. I was surprised since one of the gals made it clear to me that she didn't eat fried food. (As if the falafel were going to be prepared any other way?). I told her that it was a cash only establishment and that it was run by Cubans (not Israelis or middle easterners) and that they sold cigarettes by the pack inside. The food was tasty. To their chagrin, I had not ordered falafel. Instead, I had chicken livers and onion on a baguette. They make it with cole slaw and sweet peppers.
We went on a glass bottom boat tour which was somewhat educational. The guide reminded us that we need to be mindful of the gulf and ocean life because of its fragile symbiotic life.
I had much more sunshine than is my wont, but I did manage to stay well slathered with sun screen.
I was glad to be away from the homestead for a bit and to spend some time with a long time friend. I was reminded that I do not fare well in humid climate and that I don't care to be outdoors for long periods of time. Walk on flat terrain was a treat. Eating Cuban cuisine was a delight. Hearing roosters crow at 5:00 am reminded me that I am unaffected since that is when I am generally up and out of bed anyway. And I would much rather hear a rooster in the morning than someone else's poor choice of pseudo-music.
I doubt I would ever choose to return to Key West. For one thing, it wasn't quite as gay as I had imagined it would be. For another, I found a lot of anti-democrat redneck folks meandering about. Being in a party town in which the geri- set is partying is--in the words of Mary Poppins--"Not at all attractive to my way of thinking."