Oh No! The holidays again!

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Here it is the middle of December already. I thought I just closed the pool for the season and there’s already snow on the ground! I’ve got the tree up and decorated, as well as the living room and dining room. The stockings are hung from the mantel and the manger is in place watching over everything. Kevin has the lights on the outside of the house and the reindeer and angels are prominently displayed with their brilliant white lights. The shopping is finished already and the gifts are waiting to be wrapped. There’s Christmas music emanating from Alexa and my favorite little ornamental village church filling the whole house with holiday spirit. So why do I have mixed feelings?

…I was terrified of Santa Claus and refused to go near him…

As a child I loved Christmas with all of the decorations, Christmas carols and of course waiting for Santa’s visit. I have fond memories of our Christmas tree with all its colorful decorations, many of which were handmade. We had two big evergreen trees growing in our yard that I couldn’t wait to decorate until they became way too tall to put lights extending to the top. Even though I was terrified of Santa Claus and refused to go near him when I visited a department store where he was greeting children, I wanted him to bring me presents. I especially loved Christmas Eve when all of my relatives came to visit and my father made his famous” Tom and Jerry” drinks. Instead of alcohol my brothers and my cousins had ginger ale in the mugs until we reached the drinking age.

We weren’t rich, but I didn’t know that.

I can remember waking early and scrambling downstairs Christmas morning to find that Santa had been there and left everybody beautifully wrapped gifts. Even though we didn’t have a fireplace I never questioned how Santa got into the house. I can still smell my mother’s pies and turkey cooking in the oven as I played with my new toys and got ready to attend mass. While we were waiting for Christmas dinner I would go visit my friends in the neighborhood and they would visit me. We were all very happy that Santa had been so nice to us. We weren’t rich, but I didn’t know that. To me, all was right with the world.

I knew Christmas was only for one day and soon it would be all over.

Then I grew up and things changed. I moved away from home and developed mixed feelings towards Christmas and the holidays. I was coming to terms with the fact I was gay and felt out of place when I went home for the holidays and was forced to endure questioning as to why I wasn’t married or when I would meet a nice girl. When I finally came out to my family I still felt as an outsider and tended to blend into the wall when I went home. After a while I gave up on making the holiday trip through the treacherous snow belt of upstate New York and buried myself in my work, only taking Christmas day off. Even though I was invited to spend Christmas with neighbors and friends I preferred to stay home and spend Christmas with my dog. I had a small tree and decorated the outside of the house mainly to prove to people I wasn’t a lonely hermit. I knew Christmas was only for one day and soon it would be all over.

This isn’t Christmas, it’s commerce!

What happened to me? I still enjoyed the Christmas decorations in the malls and the beautiful lights and displays of my then home, Boston. I loved to listen to the Christmas carols playing on the radio and blaring throughout the malls bustling with shoppers. It was odd though that I only liked the traditional religiously-themed carols because I am not a religious person. I still feel the same way towards the carols I hear today. It angered me when our beautiful traditional carols were used to hawk all kinds of merchandise as Christmas gifts! Even though I liked going to the malls I hated shopping. I felt and still do feel as though people now feel obligated to buy presents, for not only their family but just about everyone they know. To this day I abhor the television commercials where a husband and wife give each other a new Mercedes and think nothing of it. How many people can afford to do that? How many people can’t even afford an old used car? I would complain to myself “this isn’t Christmas, it’s commerce”! Christmas would be better without having to buy presents. After all, why should we have to prove our love to those we care for by giving them presents they really don’t need?

Christmas is about a Jewish couple and their infant child, living in the Middle East, seeking aid and shelter in their time of need!

The one aspect of the holiday season that I have always loved is that people (most people that is) are exceptionally kind to each other and go out of their way to greet others with joyfulness and concern. This year I feel especially confused and upset with what my country is doing to the poor people seeking asylum on our southern border and by our government demonizing immigrants and people of color. As far as I remember Christmas is about a Jewish couple and their infant child, living in the Middle East, seeking aid and shelter in their time of need! It saddens me also to realize that even though everyone is gushing with love and kindness during this season, things will be back to normal with the hateful, nasty and disrespectful language and behavior that pervades our society today. The poor, the homeless and the less fortunate among us will once again be forgotten until the holiday season next year.

“it’s only one day”

I am no longer alone and I now celebrate the Christmas holidays with my husband who really never celebrated before, as he is not a Christian and was born and raised in a predominantly Muslim country. His enthusiasm and desire to help others has sort of reinvigorated my interest in Christmas. He gets as excited about helping the less fortunate in our community as he does about decorating our house to the max. Although he’s also not religious I think he has developed the “feelings” about the holiday that I once had as a child. We look forward to celebrating with family, friends, and neighbors, as I did as a child, but we also cannot forget that for many people there isn’t much to celebrate. I’m no longer alone, but I can’t forget that there are many, many people who are alone, and lonely. The holidays only reinforce their sense of loneliness. Maybe they deal with it the way I used to and think, “it’s only one day”. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

The GOP Says Quid Pro Quo Isn’t Impeachable

It wasn’t that bad.

Image by Pascvii from Pixabay

For the third time in my lifetime, a President of the United States is being impeached. The first I remember was Nixon, for abuse of power, and obstruction of justice in covering up a crime. The second was Clinton, basically for getting a blowjob and lying about it. Now it’s Donald Trump’s turn, for obstruction of justice and abuse of power, and by the time this is over possibly one hell of a lot more.

With seemingly a mountain of irrefutable evidence against Trump, the Republicans have been unable to produce a reasonable defense of Trump, instead, they have attacked procedural issues. They have prevented some witnesses from testifying and threatened the whistleblower while attacking those witnesses who have testified. Trump followers and lowlifes at Fox News have even attacked an immigrant war hero Purple Heart holder, who gave testimony against Trump, by calling him a traitor and a spy.

As the Republicans have been unable to find any solid ground upon which they can defend Trump they are now saying Trump’s actions, soliciting help from Ukraine to find dirt on his political opponents is not an impeachable offense and are not that bad. They accuse the Democrats of trying to nullify the votes of the American people who elected this poor excuse of a human being.

First of all, Trump lost the popular vote “bigly”. Clinton won the popular vote. Trump was elected by the electoral college, not by a majority of Americans! As far as their view of this unconstitutional act being “not that bad” this is heading down a deep, dangerous and slippery slope. If Trump is not held accountable for these egregious actions and escapes being impeached we, as a democratic society, are doomed.

If this action is not “that bad” then we have a whole new set of standards and values. It won’t be that bad to publically mock handicapped people. It won’t be that bad to vilify people who are immigrants or people of a different races or different religions. It won’t be that bad to physically attack members of the LGBTQ community, solely because they are different. It won’t be that bad to incite violence against any member of our society who we perceive as being different. It’s now not that bad to cage little children because their skin is brown and their parents wanted a better life for them. What’s next?

Trump has been accused of sexually assaulting at least 25 women, including raping an underage teenager, but nothing has been done. Apparently, to the GOP and Trump supporters, this is “not that bad”. Will this type of behavior become commonplace? It seems so, at least for old white men. Trump is strongly supported by the religious right for his stance on abortion, even as they overlook his three wives and many admitted affairs with hookers. Does anyone want to venture a guess as to how many abortions he’s paid for? But I guess that wouldn’t be that bad. It would be bad for you and me, but not that bad for Trump. This does not bode well for women and the progress they have made in securing women’s rights.

The next time any of us receive a subpoena to appear in court we can simply ignore it. Right? The members of Trump’s administration do it, so it can’t be that bad. With Twitter and cable news our children can learn the new American values, as defined by Donald Trump. You can lie about anything and not be held accountable. You can bully anyone who happens to be different from you. You can laugh at and make fun of those who are less fortunate than you. You can blame others for your mistakes and take credit for what others have done. You don’t have to keep your promises and you don’t owe loyalty to your friends, even though they must remain loyal to you.

I do not have much confidence in the Republicans in Congress to do the right thing and keep their oath to uphold and defend the Constitution. They value loyalty to Trump, power, money, and white privilege over preserving our Democracy. They have no balls and are scared shitless that Trump will tweet something mean about them if they dare show an ounce of integrity. I also have lost confidence in my fellow countrymen to vote this psychopath out of office in 2020, thinking he’s “not that bad”. That WILL be bad.

Originally published in Medium

My Mind and My Body are in a Fight to the Death

And I am afraid of who’s going to win.

Image byReinhardi from Pixabay

I woke up this morning feeling racked with pain in every muscle, joint, and bone in my body. It was my day to go to the gym to exercise, so I had to ignore the pain, instead of giving in to it. I used my asthma/COPD inhaler, ate my breakfast, used my nebulizer, fed the fish and dogs and went off to the gym. This is my routine three times a week. There are days that I have little energy or desire to work out, but I do. I have to. I have no choice, as the alternative is unacceptable, at least at this time in life.

The gym I belong to is part of a physical therapy facility where there are a fully outfitted gym and an exercise room, for both patients and the general public. However, most non-patient members are retired people or those close to retirement whose Medicare supplement plans offer reduced membership fees. One of the perks I guess of getting old.

I enter the gym and greet the regulars I have gotten to know who have the same workout schedule as I do. Everyone is usually jokingly in agreement about winning half the battle by just showing up at the gym. At 71, I am one of the younger members, while a couple of people are in their mid-eighties. There was one gentleman who was 92, but I haven’t seen him in a very long time. I think I know why I haven’t seen him in a while! When any of the oldsters don’t show up I always wonder if they gave up on life or life gave up on them.

After a few minutes, the regulars leave and I am left to myself, my pain, my thoughts, and my hopes and dreams. Sitting at one of the machines waiting for the next set of pulldowns I unconsciously begin to focus on a series of inspirational posters lining the walls. I can’t help but see the irony in the posters of fit athletes running, mountain climbing, cycling, and skiing. I have not seen anyone working out in that room who could come near accomplishing anything close to those physical feats. Maybe 40 or 50 years ago. I suffered from asthma during my youth, so participating in strenuous physical activities has always been beyond my reach. The motivational purpose of those posters was lost on me and for that matter, most everyone exercising in that room.

I have always been a gym member, even after I retired I managed to find a gym to my liking. But now working out has become a serious battle. Over the past 10 or so years, my ability to breathe has slowly, but steadily become impaired. I have been diagnosed with chronic sinusitis, COPD, asthma, and chronic rhinitis, but no physician I’ve seen is completely sure which of these conditions causes my shortness of breath. I also have “stiff heart” syndrome, which can be a cause of shortness of breath and exercise-induced asthma. None of the COPD or asthma medications have any effect on my breathing. Inhalers and nasal sprays do nothing for my symptoms. I cannot depend on medical science to help me.

Taking a short rest from my exercise I sit and check out Facebook on my iPhone and let my mind wander yet again. Seeing photos of my friends and their children frolicking on the beach at Cape Cod and scrolling through photos of lakes and camping sites in the Adirondacks, I recall the times in my youth when I too enjoyed these beautiful areas. I begin to feel melancholic because I can no longer enjoy such adventures. It’s not just at the gym, in this particular moment in time, that I feel this deep sadness. Even at home, working in the yard, while struggling to breathe, I can’t help but think how much I enjoyed camping and hiking in the Adirondacks and traveling through Switzerland and Bavaria.

For a while I allow myself to enjoy the reminiscences of my earlier life, but I don’t allow myself to wallow in self-pity. I quickly change the frame of mind I have settled into and with a renewed sense of urgency and some newfound energy, I hit the weights and machines again. One aspect of my health condition that I know for sure can be reversed by aerobic exercise is my “stiff heart”. So in that situation, there is some hope and I am determined to continue working with the treadmill and stationary bike to return my heart to normal. Finally, my time in the gym comes at an end for this day and somewhat both tired and reenergized I head home. I’m not sure if I accomplished much, but hey, I’m still upright!

The next day I awaken to the same aches and pains and go through the same routines with my inhalers and nebulizer. I have to. While caring for my medical conditions, I also have to pay attention to my mental state. To be honest I have not accepted the fact that because of my respiratory problems I can longer do what I used to do. There are many people older than I who are extremely physically active, so why can’t I be? My own worst enemy is my own body. My mind says I can recover and become more active, regardless of what my body says. It’s like a constant battle between mind and body.

My days are filled with ups and downs, emotionally. Every time I watch a travel program showcasing the beauties of various countries of the world or I begin to follow reality shows centering on people who are living off the grid in Alaska, I want to take part. Sometimes I become depressed because I know my body wouldn’t allow me to do it, especially when I get winded going up and down the stairs in my own home! But I figure maybe I should be more realistic and aim for something simpler, like being able to ride a bicycle around the neighborhood or take a walk through the woods on a crisp fall day. Lowering my goals at least gives me some hope. Besides with my luck, I’d probably be attacked by a grizzly bear in Alaska.

I still want to go camping, and hiking through the Adirondacks. I still want to go back to Switzerland and Bavaria to breathe in the fresh air and once again marvel at the beauty of the Alps, so I can’t give up trying. I have to force myself into the battle that is constantly waging between my mind and my body. If I can work hard enough to strengthen my aging muscles and joints I can beat the defeatist attitude that engulfs the minds of people my age. I may not be able to perform physically like a twenty-year-old, but I’ll still be alive, with a youthful mind. I look around me and I see older people who have given up, because “it hurts” to lift weights or exercise, and they sit on the couch and wait for the inevitable, which oftentimes comes a little sooner than expected. I may be fooling myself, but I’m not going down without a fight.

Originally Published in Your Voice Counts on Medium.com

I’ve Never Had an Idol

Photo by Engin Akyurt from Pexels

Whenever I am asked who my favorite movie star is I can never come up with an answer. I simply don’t have one. The same goes for my favorite sports team or athlete. I don’t have either. And I don’t care. I’ve never really given this much thought until recently. I have never had an idol or looked up to someone as a role model. And I don’t know why. My friends and others I have met seem more concerned with this phenomenon than me.

I had a normal childhood, as far as I can remember. I had severe asthma and allergies growing up, but other than that, I guess I was like any other kid. I played baseball and football with my neighborhood friends and even had a favorite baseball team, the Brooklyn Dodgers. Yes, I was a child that long ago. I didn’t have a favorite player though. I loved going to the movies on Saturday afternoons to watch cowboy movies and war movies, but I never had a favorite actor. At that time John Wayne was everybody’s favorite, but not mine. On the contrary, I hated him. I thought he was a bully and a bigot (before I knew the meaning of bigot). I was always interested in Native Americans, or as we used to call them, Indians. John Wayne, in his movies, always killed Indians and I hated him for that.

I grew up listening to rock and roll, the music of the fifties and sixties, just like every other teenager in the world, but I never had a favorite singer. I actually didn’t care for Elvis Presley, but I tolerated him. I cared more for the words or the meanings of songs rather than who sang them. I did, however, have a favorite group, Simon and Garfunkle. I loved what their songs were saying and I felt as though I could relate to their music. I liked music that made me feel good and the faster the beat, the better.

What I enjoyed reading in my early life also reflected how I felt about heroes and role models. I read comic books like any other kid, but I read the funny ones, like Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, not superheroes, like Superman or Batman. I like funny cartoons, not superhero cartoons. I went to Catholic schools through high school, where the nuns pushed books about the lives of the saints and other religious topics. I found these books and their subjects to be absolutely boring and of no interest to me. I preferred to read books on history, dinosaurs, horror, and science. I found non-fiction, except scary stories, to be way more interesting than fiction, even to this day. This preference even extends to the movies I watch.

I had always gotten good grades in school and I always tried my best, basically because I would get punished if I did poorly. I didn’t have a favorite teacher and I didn’t strive to emulate any famous scholar. I did notice that in my high school athletes were fawned over and given all of the attention and perks, while everyone else was ignored. I never could understand why athletics was more important than academics. I respected athletes and gave them credit for what they had accomplished, but I didn’t idolize them.

When I attended college I didn’t have a particular person, in whose footsteps I wanted to follow. I had varied interests and it was difficult for me to chose an area of study to call my major. Because of this, I have had careers in both psychology and cytology, two unrelated areas of study. Studying these areas of concentration I had no role models to emulate, nor did I want one. I was determined to pave my own path in both of those fields.

I was employed the longest as a cytologist, before retiring. I worked with some very competent and capable professionals in my field, whom I deeply respected, but I never wanted to be like them. I strived to do my best, not to be like anyone else. As a professionally employed adult, I often thought back to my high school days, when I observed athletes being given all of the accolades and scholars receiving none. I saw the same thing happening in real life, and it upset me. I couldn’t understand why some athletes made millions of dollars playing a game, while people who worked to save lives and help people made only a small fraction of those millions. No one ever paid to watch a skilled surgeon or scientist work, I often thought. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I’ve never had an idol.

I think perhaps the closest I ever came to having an idol or role model was in politics. I can remember working for John F. Kennedy’s campaign for president, even though I was too young to vote. I admired and respected him for how he worked for others, especially the poor and less fortunate. When he was President I felt as though young people had hope for our futures. I felt as though our entire country had hope. When he was assassinated I felt an immediate sense of loss, not only for myself but for our country. I don’t think I ever recovered from that fateful event. There certainly aren’t any politicians today that I can look up to!

Now that I am 71 years old and realize that I have never had any idols or role models that I have looked up to, I wonder why. I see young people idolizing athletes and pop stars. I even see people my age holding football and basketball players in awe for their abilities, while I take them for granted. I see people wearing sweatshirts and tee-shirts emblazoned with the names of their favorite player or team, while I go out of my way to choose articles of clothing without advertising the names of athletes, sports teams or even sportswear companies. The reason I do this is a mystery to me, but I don’t let it bother me. Maybe I’m just weird. Perhaps now is the time to find an idol to emulate. Perhaps it should be Methuselah! What do you think?