Poems, photos & <del>philosophy</del>on-line dating
I cannot apologize for being born as a privileged white male. I had no choice in the matter. I cannot apologize for being raised as a privileged white male. I had no choice in the matter. But somewhere between then and now I could have done something About what does matter. Don’t get me wrong, I’m confident that if everyone behaved as I have, These issues wouldn’t matter. But they don’t and the world is not improving enough in these matters. Here's what I hope that I can help make matter.
Black Lives Fucking Do Matter
And about that apology; I recognize I have descended from people and policies that have hurt others. I'm sorry that happened and I'm sorry you may be affected today from that.
Having started on-line dating also started me on self-reflection.
So far, I get no bonus points.
But I’m happy to be on the journey.
So, I let the cat out of the bag. I got married on 12/29/20.
This might seem surprising because as of last April I was still driving about. Who is she?
She is an artist; painting, drawing, writing. Former Yoga Instructor. Former IT Systems Analyst. Loves the outdoors. And my jokes.
I invited her up to Whitefish to recover from being hit by a Suburban while in a crosswalk. We spent a lot of time together both indoors and outdoors. We are both living very intentional lives. We both intend to live with each other for the rest of our lives.
Of course I wrote some courting poems:
Here to there is too much air.
Don’t believe I do not care.
Excited to be tracking something rare.
Available only to those who dare.
I'm not the tallest, darkest or handsomest. I'm not the fastest, smartest or funniest. I'm not the richest, bravest or kindest. I'm not the most talented, most respected
or most ambitious. Am I average, normal? Am I yours?
Clearly the on-line dating paid off. Which makes me no expert in this experience. It took me years, her weeks. I’ve met all kinds of people. A couple of friends. Many anecdotes.
Given the times I cannot imagine how else to meet someone.
I’m glad it is over.
Happy New Year, all.
2020 contained many new adventures ending with this good news.
Dedicated readers will remember Helen and that she was engaged on
Christmas Day, 2019 but not to me. She got married on 12/31. She probably came to the same conclusion as I did. Parties can be held later but not love.
Lovely Lady, standing by me, Celebrating, for all to see. We met each other when life was a fray. Open to commit, being unafraid. Kind and caring, living with intent. Creative, loyal, even tolerant. Please let us join; be more than one. Awaken together with the rising sun. My vow, my gift; my soul without fear. Together we will conquer our remaining years.
I read this poem yesterday at a lovely little ceremony. It was on a knoll overlooking the Deschutes River. Small affair, given the times. An officiant, a couple of friends and a couple in love.
Yes, I got married.
I guess there is some catching up to do.
The times are unusual, I hope you are coping.
My driveabout has continued.
The writer’s colony produced mixed results. I’m told I helped my aspiring friend which makes me happy. I didn’t start my book.
Also, having not made a match, I decided to move on at the end of February.
But where to? I want to either find a girlfriend or find an interesting place.
Having exhausted the search in my “home” town I tried to find a place, like the House of Irony, that would be inspirational, yet not have skunks. I failed.
So, I needed to hit the road, but where? Obviously the choices were between the ocean and the mountains. I looked west to the coast and tried find a place, but nothing really spoke to me. I then looked east and my eyes fell on Whitefish, Montana. Gateway to Glacier National Park.
So, I booked a place.
And then I found a girlfriend. But, that’s another story.
A week ago last Friday I was the last visitor out of Glacier National Park. I went X-C skiing, starting in the early afternoon and getting back to the parking lot after sundown. Nobody was around. As I pulled out of the park the rangers were pulling barricades across the road. It’s closed.
Here are a few pictures from that last day.
My thoughts are with you.
And yet, Light graces the morning Dolphins play in the seas Horses neigh in the fields Birds talk in the trees And yet, Burdens are still there Decisions are not made Races are not won Regrets do not fade And yet, Friends offer their help Lightening the way Helping fight back Come what may
Why not drive 800 miles down to Southern California for New Years?
I had spent Christmas with my brother and all my other relatives were out of town. Further, it’s been raining and more is predicted.
I’ve got this packing thing well down. So, I threw in what I needed and headed south. It was fun, not too much drinking occurred. I got to hang out with a group of ladies binge watching Outlander. I got in several hikes in the surrounding hills and worked on my tan.
Unfortunately I didn’t get any good photos until I hit Redwoods National Park on the way back. The weather closed in and I fled for home.
The folks I stay with have a guest register. Yes, they encourage and get a lot of vagabonds passing through. I try to leave them with a poem. This time I wrote:
It's not the cars we drive Or the clothes we wear Great gobs of makeup Or even long hair We gather from long distance Or just around the bend We all look forward To being called a friend So here in this place No need to shove We do like to gather Surrounded by love
Happy New Year, all.
2019 contained many new adventures ending with this good news.
Dedicated readers will remember Helen.
On Christmas Day she accepted a proposal of marriage.
It was not from me.
Never the less, I am very happy for her.
Any person who finds their happiness is a good reason to celebrate.
I hope I’m being effective here at the writer’s colony. Time will tell.
For me, I had dreamed of starting a book by now.
Instead I went back on-line with Match.
For me, it entails a fair amount of thoughtful writing.
And occasionally creates a poem:
I want to get deep within you, Past the hard shell. But how? Is my wit sufficient for the difficulties? Can it point me to the right tools? Is the smallest of cracks; The beginning of the road to victory? I pause, Imagining the fruit of my labor. I imagine, you, a macadamia nut.