Remembering by Betsy

I can’t remember if it’s always been like this, but lately “remembering” issues are cropping up all the time. I’ll think of something I have to do and two minutes later I’ve completely forgotten it and I’m on to something else. Often I’ll list in my head a number of chores and tasks that are absolutely necessary and important to get done right away. So important that I decide that I simply MUST make a list immediately of all the items. Then within minutes I have forgotten to make the list, I have forgotten most of the chores and I’ve been completely distracted by a totally unrelated activity. When I’ve completed that activity, I can’t remember any of the other items that I was going to write on a list that I can’t remember if I have written and if I have written it I certainly can’t remember where the list is.

Having described this state of affairs, I am left scratching my head and saying, “This person lives in a state of constant confusion.” But it’s not like that really. It’s because I am very focused on what I am doing that the other things are forgotten–until I’m finished with what I’m focused on. Again I can’t remember if it’s always been like this.

They say that in our old age we forget things. But I have to wonder if it’s not just memory overload. After all an 80 year old has four times as much to remember as a twenty year old. Shouldn’t that alone make it harder to recall things

When it comes to remembering the past, I often wonder why it is that we have a clear picture in our memories of select incidences. What is it about those particular happenings that make them memorable. For me, it could be a good experience or a bad experience or a rather bland experience. But, for some reason, that memory is the one I access. For some it seems memories of the past are readily available and for others never available.

Perhaps it is a basic talent of sorts for some. I see this in my 3 children who all are of normal intelligence, but one has ready access to memories the others do not.

Then some are predisposed to remember numbers, others remember names, some remember music better than others. 

Then there is inherited memory. An all-consuming topic for the modern psychologist interested in the study of memory. On that subject: someone once suggested to me that I have a phobia for snakes because when I lived in a tree, in a past life, a snake got me. Yikes! I’m glad I don’t remember that!

Most of what I think about memory is based on observation or belief. I have very few facts. The human brain being the complicated “animal” that it is will be the enigma that it is to the lay person for many years to come–at least I believe it will.

Enough rambling about remembering. It’s time to check “write about remembering” off my list and start a new list of what to do next.

© 11 March 2013

About the Author  

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

My Favorite Fantasy = Gay Power by Louis

Off the top of my head, I would say a roll in the hay with Tom Selleck – Darn, he’s so hairy, and he has such a pretty smile.

On second thought, my favorite fantasy is the bulk of gay people, instead of pursing “assimilation,” rather they should accept the radical view of history. I heard that Martin Duberman was disappointed with the direction of American liberation these days. I guess I agree with him.

Not so many years ago, after a long barrage of cheap hate mongering from certain Republicans claiming Black people are parasites because a large number of them live on Food Stamps, I believe it was the Black Panthers who responded by saying they did not want Food Stamps, they wanted Power, Black Power.

I think the LBGT community has to go through this radical stage. We do not want grudging scanty tolerance from some liberal churches. We want gay power. This means, we are well organized enough and interwoven with the power brokers of Wall Street, the European Economic Union, etc. that we can tell someone like Putin, that, if you mess with gay people, you’ll be sorry. We have to have the power to back up our threats. According to the radical view of history, considering the large number of gay people in the world, we can achieve this power. Have faith. Organize! Remember the cry to organize, expressed by so many American and European labor leaders of the 1930’s.

Once “empowered,” the priests, ministers, even the Imams and Mullahs will start preaching the holy nature of gay people, instead of what they are doing now. The Pope will gladly speak with our gay lib leaders, our real gay lib leaders, not the phony balonies, of which there are many, let’s call them smiling homophobes. When our real empowered leaders sit down with the Pope, the Pope will HAVE TO LISTEN.

Especially, when we go to church, we do not want to hear about the evils of same –sex attractions, we want to hear about how Christianity can empower the international gay community, the “Homintern,” as J. Edgar Hoover called us. Some precious few theologians are talking turkey. Make sure you listen to them. Jesus spoke at length about empowering the powerless. Of course, so did Mohammed, and Buddha and on and on. Listen!

Have you ever been to a gay lib protest rally? Some time the chant went, “What do you want?” “Power!” What kind of power?” Gay power!” That was music to my ears.

I was taught to believe for many years, that yes, there are gay people, a few poets and artists in Greenwich Village in Manhattan. They can be tolerated by the powers that be, but they are very, very few in number and they are powerless. What a crock! I have just “learned” there are gay people in Denver, Colorado.

I also “know” that there are gay people, by the millions in Russia, Europe, Asia, Australia, Canada, to judge by the size of the Pride Marches.

A few years ago, there was even a “congress,” a meeting of lesbian and gay Muslims in London, England. It is vital that there be a gay and lesbian positive news agency to tell us more about what happened at that meeting, what strategy did they come up with to liberate gay and lesbian Muslims, again, of which there are millions and millions.

What about the millions of lesbian and gay Catholics? How do we organize them? What about the millions and millions of lesbian and gay Chinese and Indians? How do we organize them?

One of my co-authors in this group described his youth in Germany. Why not a lesbian and gay Deutschverein right here at the Center? Denver Colorado has an Alliance française, thanks to in good part due to contributions from the Gay and Lesbian Fund. Why not a lesbian and gay Alliance française at the Lesgay Center of the Rockies? Accept the challenge, organize! If these groups could be organized, can you imagine how much our prestige would be enhanced?

The Jewish people set up Yeshiva University. The Black people set up Howard University and a large number of other black universities and schools. Where are the lesbian and gay schools, universities, religious societies? We can have it all if we think big, organize! Think globally, think international! Look carefully at what the Blacks and Jews have done to organize themselves.

Carlos Castillo also reminds us of the need for a lesbian and gay Spanish club. Well, we have the same language; there is a need for a British lesbian and gay club. Don’t you want to say hello to lesbian and gay Europeans, lesbian and gay Asians, lesbian and gay Africans, lesbian and gay Australians, lesbian and gay Central and South Americans? I do. I heard for many years the lesbian gay pride marches in Sydney. Australia, were the largest in the world.

MCC is setting up lesgay positive churches in South America. What’s happening down there south of the border? Educated people want to know. Information please!


One day, I am sure, because of sheer necessity my fantasy will become a reality.

© 10 October 2013
About
the Author


I was born in 1944, I lived most of my life in New York City, Queens County. I still commute there. I worked for many years as a Caseworker for New York City Human Resources Administration, dealing with mentally impaired clients, then as a social work Supervisor dealing with homeless PWA’s. I have an apartment in Wheat Ridge, CO. I retired in 2002. I have a few interesting stories to tell. My boyfriend Kevin lives in New York City. I graduated Queens College, CUNY, in 1967.

Breaking Into the Gay Culture by Will Stanton

Breaking into the gay culture. I have no idea what that means. I suppose one first would have to define “gay culture.” I’m not sure what that is, either.

Does that mean living in San Francisco and being 99% nude in a parade? Does it mean hanging out in gay bars and trying to pick up tricks, perhaps even resignedly going home with a nameless body at 2:00 A.M.? Does it mean late-night roaming of Cheesman Park, or hanging out around men’s restrooms? Does it mean wearing rainbow colors, or lots of gay bling announcing to the world that my orientation may be different from yours? Is this that “gay culture,” especially as defined by uninformed or homophobic people?

On the other hand, could it mean that wealthy, cultured, and well educated gentleman who is bored by the bar scene and, instead, sits in the balcony of the Met Opera with a group of black-tie friends and then throws exclusive after-opera parties at his magnificent home? Or, does it refer to someone like billionaire, arms-industrialist Alfred Krupp enjoying the view of a dozen naked, young boys splashing in his swimming pool, flaunting the draconian anti-gay laws of early-20th-century Germany?

Or finally, can it mean a bizarrely inverted and destructive so-called “un-gay culture” populated by outwardly-straight army generals, fundamentalist preachers, homophobic Republican senators, or “pray-to-cure therapists,” anyone who fears or denies his own orientation that he does not understand or is willing to accept?

One obviously visible part of gay culture that I certainly respect is those persons who work for gay civil rights and to educate the otherwise ignorant public. Such work may expose them to ridicule or worse. Or at least, that dedication may dominate their lives and take up most of their time, possibly denying them the opportunity to pursue other, more personally rewarding directions.

For those gays, however, who may have realized their orientation but who have not found much of a of a life beyond it, I would hope that “gay culture” is not defined by unproductive pursuits for frequent sex partners, short-term relationships, beer-busts, and constant gay social events. Human lives should mean much more than that.

It seems to me that the natural, healthful approach for viewing one’s orientation is that it is simply one element of a person’s personality and thinking, that it does not have to dominate one’s mind. Consequently, choosing friends, joining clubs, selecting careers, interests, and hobbies does not have to be determined primarily upon whether they are considered to be gay or straight activities. After all, any psychologist or biologist worth his salt now knows that sexual orientation is not binary, not black or white; it is fluid, running the spectrum of thinking, feelings, and behavior. I could be mistaken, but perhaps some individuals think of Story Time more as a gay writers’ group. I chose to join because I prefer to view it simply as a writers’ group. The human experience often contains universal elements not limited by gay or straight.

© 22 August 2012

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories. I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones. Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group. I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

Coping with Loved Ones by Phillip Hoyle

Coping with loved ones is not really my topic although I do face some such challenges, challenges I’ve settled by maintaining distance. Still my experience is not so much coping as simply living away from the people whom I seem so much to bother. I don’t expect them to change in their attitudes. I keep my distance. I have done so for fifteen years.

When I told my sisters that my wife and I were separating, that she was going back to Albuquerque to work and I was staying in Tulsa, that we didn’t know how to solve the difficulty two sexual affairs I’d had with men had created, and that I bore the responsibility for our problems, one of my four sisters was stricken. Sometime later, after I had moved to Denver to live my life as a gay man, I received a letter from her and her family that she, her minister husband, and their two young adult daughters had signed, a letter that separated them from me with its condemnation expressed in biblical language. I read it—a letter her husband had written—and felt sadness. I felt especially sad that they had involved their daughters in the act of rejection. I felt deeply sad for my sister. I did not respond to their communication. I have not seen my sister or her family since then.

Each March I send my sister a birthday card. Each December I send her family a Christmas card. That’s it. That’s enough for me. I feel sad for them all. I did send her husband a get-well card when he was being treated for cancer. I sent him my congratulations when he retired. I don’t know to do more than that. I hope my sister has a sense of peace in all this. That’s my best wish for her.

My other three sisters have been open, loving, and including, whatever their thoughts about homosexuality, sin, and salvation. I appreciate their attitudes. I treasure them all, even the rejecting sister who once had been one of my closest friends. I suspect this story would be more interesting if it had been written by my rejecting sister. She’s surely the one who has to cope. She’s the one who holds out for me to change. She’s the one who believes I’ve committed some unpardonable sin. She’s the one who has to deal with the embarrassment of having a sinfully gay brother who probably does all kinds of horrible things decent people must protect their children from, must rid their society of, and must enact laws to limit. She’s the one who fears that civil freedoms for the pursuit of happiness or simply the right to work, marry, and live in peace give too much to homosexuals. She’s the one who has to cope with too much. So she does cope; she prays every day of the week for my repentance. I keep my distance so she doesn’t have to cope with me close up. Face to face might be too much provocation.

My coping strategies: distance and separation. Perhaps they are too much a habit I’ve cultivated. I see they may present a problem on the horizon. As we age and our health deteriorates, a thing well underway with this group of siblings, I am sure I will need to be face to face with members of the rejecting family. Then I’ll have something more to write about! Then I’ll know more about coping like people in small towns have to cope with their families! In the meantime I’ll send my cards and best wishes for these folk who find me to be so evilly unrepentant.

© 14 October 2012

About the Author


Phillip Hoyle lives in Denver and spends his time writing, painting, giving massages, and socializing. His massage practice funds his other activities that keep him busy with groups of writers and artists, and folk with pains. Following thirty-two years in church work, he now focuses on creating beauty and ministering to the clients in his practice. He volunteers at The Center leading “Telling Your Story.”

He also blogs at artandmorebyphilhoyle.blogspot.com

The Essence of GLBTQ by Merlyn

Michael and I get tested every six months at the STD clinic at 17th and Pearl St. We went on Friday after he got of work at The Center’s front desk. While we were waiting for our turn I was watching two young male couples.

I realized how much different their lives are today compared to what my life was like when I was at their age.

Both couples are used to being who and what they are sexually around anyone and they don’t care what anyone thinks.

The youngest couple were in their late teens and looked like the punks you see on the street, both of them were around 5ft 9, 120 lbs, dirty, mated hair, piercings all over their faces and torn clothes. They were making a statement that they were gay both bottoms and they were really nervous about the test results. They were both OK and were very happy when they got the results.

The older couple were mid 20s, 5′ 11″ 190 lbs and in real good shape. They were dressed in comfortable clothes that did not make any kind of statement about who or what they are sexually. But the way acted around each other you could tell they are lovers that have been together a long time and probably act that way anytime they are together.

I can only imagine what it would be like to have the freedom to live your life in a world where you never have to hide anything about yourself and no one cares if you are having sex with a man this week or had sex with a woman last week.

I believe in a generation or two from now most of the labels we have today will only be talked about in the history books.

The world is changing and as the world changes more and more people will not allow anyone to judge or make them feel guilty about who they are.

Denver, July 15, 2013

About the Author

I’m a retired gay man now living in Denver Colorado with my partner Michael. I grew up in the Detroit area. Through the various kinds of work I have done I have seen most of the United States. I have been involved in technical and mechanical areas my whole life, all kinds of motors and computer systems. I like travel, searching for the unusual and enjoying life each day.

A Letter to My Younger Self by Louis

Uncle Louis went to visit his brother, Arthur, for Christmas in California, and stayed for a couple of weeks visiting. One evening, UL and nephew Louis (NL) started chewing the fat, so to speak.

Louis Jr. has his own opinions. He is 12 years old, is somewhat athletic and is above average in intelligence but not a genius. He had a long conversation with his gay uncle (moi), and politics, religion, adjusting to a world that is not particularly friendly to gay people. Also discussed were politics, religion and the meaning of following one’s career, etc.
UL: So what do you in the athletics department, Louis?
NL: Well, Mommy and Daddy enrolled me in the local Little League. I played in a couple of baseball games. I told Mommy and Daddy that I was uncomfortable competing to try and beat the other team. Being on a team seemed to me like being in a “herd.” So they let me off the hook.
UL: Your Mommy and Daddy and I know you are gay, you know you are gay; how many problems does that cause you?
NL: Everybody who cares knows I am gay, but no one makes an issue of it. If a bully tries to push me around, my friends intervene and stop the bully. I might add that I do enjoy playing volley ball. I like hitting the ball and shouting and hollering, but which team actually “wins” the game is sort of vague. I like that. There aren’t any grown-ups around keeping track who won what.
UL: I can’t tell you what to read and what to think, but I would like to know what you’ve read, already.
NL: Well, I do like to read, especially magazines about hiking and sport cars. I know there is such a thing as “classical literature”. I tried reading Dickens, I didn’t get it. I did enjoy reading Penrod by Booth Tarkington and Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer because they were stories about kids my own age.
UL: Maybe when you are a little older you might want to read Moby Dick and poetry by Emily Dickinson. Sometimes when you read books, there are different levels of meaning. Picking up on the deeper meanings makes the reading more enjoyable.
NL: Yes, maybe one day.
UL: Do you pick sides when you watch TV and see our two political parties arguing.
NL: Well, Daddy tells me he used to be a Republican. I do not completely understand what they are fighting about; I know I think they quarrel too much.
UL: What does Dad think about you getting into the Army or Air Force or Navy one of these days?
NL: I think, uh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll be a pacifist. We have a debating club at school, and some of the kids say the wars we engage in all the time are dumb. Still, I like the idea of the discipline becoming maybe a State Trooper or maybe the Coast Guard.
UL: One of these days, you are probably going to choose a boy friend to live with on a permanent basis. Some of our moral leaders think you should treat your mate like a sub-human.
NL: Actually, I noticed Mommy and Daddy don’t treat each other that way, and actually I already have a sort of boy friend. Sometimes we go to the movies together. His name is Bobby, and I don’t think he is a sub-human. He’s two years older than I am.
UL: Of course, you have to watch out. Your present or future boyfriend might treat you like a sub-human.
NL: Well, if that happens, I guess I will look elsewhere for a mate.
UL: In the past, many preachers used to rant and rave against gay people in church. Do you go to church?
NL: Mommy and Daddy take me to church about once a month. To be frank, I don’t get it. The preacher tells us we need a moral compass, a light-house to guide us. What does that mean?
UL: I think it means sometimes you get into a predicament and you don’t know which way to turn so you trust what your moral teachings indicate. In reality, though, you have to make your own decisions. Most people think that the Republican Party, especially today’s Republican Party, only protect the interests of wealthy people, and that the Democratic Party, does pretty much the same thing but does care more about middle class people and the poor. Are you going to be a Democrat or Republican?
NL: My older Brother, Wally, just started college and he joined the campus chapter of the Young Republicans. He said he is going to try and encourage the Republican Party to be more middle-of-the-road. Mommy is a Democrat but lately she is unsure they are the good guys. I think there is a possibility of a third choice. One day when I know more, I can make up my mind.
UL: What happens when your government gets enthusiastic about some war, but you have your doubts? I think you should ask yourself some skeptical questions like who really benefits from this war? The military contractors? The arms manufacturers? What if you think the American public does not really derive any benefit from the war?
NL: Well, I’m a kid. I guess I’ll think about that later.
UL: The last big important question. What is your attitude toward poor people, toward homeless people, people who do not have enough to eat.
NL: Mommy used to volunteer at a soup kitchen on the other side of town. Over there people live in run-down shanties, and some of them do not smell so good, Mommy says.
She was able to buy good food in bulk, at whole – sale prices so the soup kitchen could afford to feed a hundred people or so. She said she felt good about it. I care about poor people. One day I probably will get involved in feed the hungry campaigns. I do see pictures of starving children in Africa and India. It’s sad. And then of course there are the sick and dying in the hospitals. Something to think about.
After I returned home to New York, about a month later, I received a letter from Louis’ mother in which she said that, in Louis’ school, she met with Louis’ guidance counselor who told her that he thought that Louis was “mal-adjusted”. She asked me my opinion. I told her that I had a long talk with nephew Louis, and au contraire I thought he was very well-adjusted. He has no unwholesome prejudices about himself or others. He just feels uncomfortable in a competitive sports environment, but he makes good moral judgments when he needs to. Nephew Louis likes school, likes to read so he should do well academically.

10-01-2013

About the Author

I was born in 1944, I lived most of my life in New York City, Queens County. I still commute there. I worked for many years as a Caseworker for New York City Human Resources Administration, dealing with mentally impaired clients, then as a social work Supervisor dealing with homeless PWA’s. I have an apartment in Wheat Ridge, CO. I retired in 2002. I have a few interesting stories to tell. My boyfriend Kevin lives in New York City. I graduated Queens College, CUNY, in 1967.

The Wisdom of GLBT Identity by Betsy

Here are thoughts of a fourteen year old high school girl in 1950 or so.

Mind you, this conversation with herself never took place on a conscious level. I know, however it took place unconsciously and remained festering in her psyche into adulthood.

“I know I’m supposed to get excited about being with boys but I just can’t help myself. I really want to be with girls especially Ann. Talk about getting excited. My palms get sweaty every time she comes my way. My heart is pounding in my chest. I want to make an impression on her. What I really want is to go out with her. What I really, really want is to go steady with her. She thinks I just want to be friends, and we are friends. But I want so much more. I want to be closer to her than friends.

“Yet I know this is a fantasy. Worse, I can’t tell my parents about my feelings, my true feelings. I know from things I have heard that they would probably not take me seriously, and dismiss the subject, and tell me never to mention it again. They would not only dismiss the subject, they would dismiss me. If I persisted in telling them who I really am, they would probably punish me. They might even reject me. They mean well, but they want me to pretend to be someone I am not. I know that if I do not do just that I will be punished or even rejected. That hurts a lot.

“Telling my friends is just as scary. It is not an option, just as telling my parents is not an option. I won’t tell my friends because I want to be accepted. I want to go to parties and dances. Being an outcast would be unbearable for me, even if it means pretending to have feelings I don’t have.”

This monologue never took place in my conscious mind. I probably did not have enough experience in life to have the insight to know that I was choosing to pretend to be someone I was not. But I did have enough knowledge to choose a path that would ensure my acceptance which apparently was more important to me then than expressing my true nature.

A wise person is a person who has both knowledge and experience AND the ability to apply those qualities in daily life. Lacking the experience ingredient is likely the reason I did not come out until I was nearly fifty years old. As I was growing up and as a young adult, I had the knowledge that to identify as homosexual was unacceptable for me. That is IDENTIFYING as homosexual was not an option. It was years later that it became clear to me that to BE homosexual is not in the realm of choices one makes. To behave or not to behave as such is the choice.

As I grew older I learned from experience that to not identify as that which I am, can be devastating, depressing in the medical sense of the word, ie, causing clinical depression, or a myriad of other health problems to say nothing of the behavioral problems and addictions rampant in our community brought on by denying one’s true identity. By mid-life I had the knowledge and the experience to know that to remain in that state of denial of myself would be devastating to my well being.

The wisdom of identifying as lesbian became abundantly clear.

Today there are still many parents who do not accept their gay children as well as others who are not parents who are not accepting of LGBTs in society. But many parents and others who have increased their knowledge and have opened their eyes are accepting–far more than 60 years ago.

One reason for the great strides that have been made towards this acceptance is that many LGBT people have had the courage and the wisdom to not pretend, and to choose to come out of the closet and live out their true identity publicly and without apology or shame. This attitude has not come easily for many. And for some the acceptance of our own identity has come later in life. But then, unlike our sexual orientation, we are not born with knowledge and we are not born with experience. Wisdom must be acquired over time. Is that not what makes wisdom so valuable?

Denver, 2012

About the Author

Betsy has been active in the GLBT community including PFLAG, the Denver women’s chorus, OLOC (Old Lesbians Organizing for Change). She has been retired from the Human Services field for about 15 years. Since her retirement, her major activities include tennis, camping, traveling, teaching skiing as a volunteer instructor with National Sports Center for the Disabled, and learning. Betsy came out as a lesbian after 25 years of marriage. She has a close relationship with her three children and enjoys spending time with her four grandchildren. Betsy says her greatest and most meaningful enjoyment comes from sharing her life with her partner of 25 years, Gillian Edwards.

A Letter to My Younger Self by Will Stanton

I have pondered this, on and off, for a long time. If I miraculously could go back in time, start over, but know what I know now, would it be so different? Of course, such speculation is a moot point, for I doubt that there is much chance of my having that opportunity. But, the main question is, “How much difference to my life would knowing more make, versus how dominant would my innate nature be? Which would hold sway?”

If I sequestered myself from the intruding world, thought long and hard, and wrote a series of letters to myself at various early ages, letters containing every scrap of learned wisdom from my years of experience, would that information prompt me to make significantly different decisions and choices in my childhood? Would I more fully comprehend much earlier how challenging the real word is and how well one must be prepared to live successfully in it?

Would I have chosen a totally different course for my life, picked early-on a future profession, studied much harder? Would I have realized how essential it is to master good people-skills so that I could understand and relate better to my family, my friends, school-mates, teachers, and my work-colleagues?

In addition, would I have realized that childhood is a brief period when one truly can be a child, to play, to have fun? It seems in retrospect that I was expected to be the “young gentleman,” to behave, not to explore or experiment too much. I sometimes feel, as apparently a few friends of mine feel, that somehow I missed that period of being a child.

Then, there is my own nature. How much of that was in-born, and how much of that was learned from early childhood? I seem to have been hesitant, lacking spontaneity. I was not blindly self-confident, a risk-taker. I was more of the observer than the doer. I thought extensively about what I observed, wondering, reconsidering.

I was a bit of a dreamer, too. I think part of that came from my sense of incompleteness with my family. I began to dream of being someone else, being somewhere else, being part of a truly supportive and loving family. Despite my having had many varied and pleasant opportunities not always available to others, they were of relatively lesser importance. I do not recall ever having had truly practical guidance or advice from anyone, not from my parents, not from teachers or school counselors, not from caring mentors during my adult life. Many highly successful people have stated that an essential contributing factor in their success was having had a mentor who could help teach them and show the way to success. I never had that.

For some time now, I have sensed that what was lacking in my life has weighed heavily upon me. It has been like heavy baggage, dragged throughout my life and misdirecting my energies away from pursuing practical goals that could have enhanced my life.

Perhaps, in theory, if I could provide informative letters to myself that I could read at various points in my early life, I could, in a sense, be my own mentor. Maybe that would make a worthwhile difference in my life. On the other hand, would my dreamy, artistic nature and my natural aversion to taking risks have negated much of that advantage? It is an interesting question but not worth devoting much time to. My formative years were a very long time ago.

© 1 October 2013

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories. I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones. Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group. I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

A Letter to My 9½-Year Old Self by Ricky

7 October 2013

Dear Ricky,

This may be difficult for you to believe, but this letter is from you. I, that is you, wrote it to yourself 55½ years in your future. I borrowed a friend’s prototype time travel device so I could mail this letter to me (you) so you (I) would receive it January 2, 1958. All the scientists believe it would be a bad thing for us (you and I) to actually see or touch each other [something to do with destroying the universe], thus this letter.

You are now 9½ and are experiencing a major event in your life, the divorce of your parents. I know how you feel because I was you 55½ years ago. I won’t tell you many details of your future, but I am giving you some advice that should make your journey into the future a little bit easier to deal with. Trust me in this; or rather trust yourself not to lie to yourself. So, here are 17 things I feel you should know at your age.

1. First off: Don’t be afraid. I am proof that you have a long life ahead. Yes you will be reckless and sometimes do dangerous or downright stupid things, but you live through all of them.

2. Don’t continue to withdraw into yourself because of the divorce. Even though your grandparents don’t hug you enough, they still love you and always will. Everything works out just fine. Your new step-father is a good man and is not violent towards you. You will see and travel with our father twice a year for many years to come.

3. Have a bit of fun with your grandmother by telling her that your mother remarried and just gave birth to twins today (January 2nd). Our mother has not told her yet, so she doesn’t know about the marriage or the pregnancy.  Her reaction should be amusing. 

4. You, or should I say “we”, turn out to be a good person and you will be a good older brother to the twins.

5. Don’t be a social wall-flower. Be the person who makes the first move in becoming friends with others that you will meet. It will make a big difference in how you feel.

6. As you grow up, there will come a time when you will notice that your male peers will stop thinking that girls have “cooties” and will want to spend more time with them than you. This is a normal part of growing up so don’t take it personally. There will be boys who want to spend their time with other boys instead of girls. This is also normal. If you have those special feelings for other boys don’t worry it will all be okay. Be warned though. Society during your time does not look kindly upon boy on boy (or man on man) love, so be cautious of any activity in that area, if you become so inclined. It will take years, but society changes so it does get better. If you wish to get married and have a family, go for it.

7. On 14 May 2013, buy a “Powerball” ticket with the numbers: 2, 11, 26, 34, 41, PB 32.  On 2 August 2013, buy a “Powerball” ticket with the numbers: 21, 24, 36, 42, 45, PB15.  On 13 September 2013, buy a “Powerball” ticket with the numbers: 1, 17, 25, 37, 44, PB 20.   Do this and you will have a total of $977 million.

8. Your new step-brother is 5-years older than you, but he is a good and decent person. However, I strongly advise that you don’t eat any of his secret stash of cookies when the opportunity arises in 3-years.

9. Join the Boy Scouts as soon as you are invited to join. You won’t regret it.

10. When you get to high school, tryout for the school plays. There will be two per year. Pester your mother and step-father until they commit to letting you do it.

11. Don’t bother with high school sports. Keep up a good academic standing instead. Your family duties will prevent you from participating anyway.

12. When you get back to California and live in a resort the first summer back, take lots of pictures of what you will be doing there. I have none and wish I had some from that period of time.

13. Practice dancing and go to school dances, but don’t be a wall-flower. Make someone happy and dance with them.

14. Brush your teeth twice a day or suffer the physical and financial consequences.

15. Keep a daily journal.

16. Re-read the original Peter Pan often. Don’t ignore the lessons contained therein.

17. Pay attention in English classes and learn to write well so you can write this letter to yourself when you reach my age. Who knows—in another 55½ years, I may write to you again because I know where you live.

Sincerely,
Your Future Self

PS: Here are two photos taken 6-months in the future to prove this letter is for real.

       Gale, Ricky, Gene, Dale                July 2, 1958                         Gale & Dale

  © 7 October 2013

About the Author

Ricky was born in 1948 in downtown Los Angeles. He lived first in Lawndale and then in Redondo Beach both suburbs of LA. Just days prior to turning 8 years old, he was sent to live with his grandparents on their farm in Isanti County, Minnesota for two years while (unknown to him) his parents obtained a divorce.

When reunited with his mother and new stepfather, he lived one summer at Emerald Bay and then at South Lake Tahoe, graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966. After three tours of duty with the Air Force, he moved to Denver, Colorado where he lived with his wife of 27 years and their four children. His wife passed away from complications of breast cancer four days after 9-11.

He came out as a gay man in the summer of 2010. He says, “I find writing these memories to be very therapeutic.”

Ricky’s story blog is “TheTahoeBoy.blogspot.com”.

Long Ago and Far Away by Ray S.

In watching this handsome, self assured TV chef go about his demonstration of how to prepare trout almondine, he tells us about his service as a Marine in Iraq. As an aside to how a vanilla bean’s aroma reminds him of something the troops were warned to avoid as a poison because it smelled like vanilla.

Then he mentions his three sons, so I know he’s married–or was, and sufficiently endowed for he and his wife to become a father three times. All the time he’s so cool explaining how to fry the trout, then throwing together some panna cotta.

Why does my mind wander and begin nagging, “I wish I was a man such as I perceive him to be?”

It’s the image on the screen, it’s my mood slipping into classic “I don’t like me” mind fuck. A long ago secret wish to be someone else besides this body I’ve been occupying so long. Details like is he straight or gay, is he happily married, is he addicted to some sort of drug or booze? Would he be someone I’d like to spend time with? Why can’t I settle for who I am? All my life I’ve been comparing myself to others and especially men I can never be–and on and on and on.

Well, the food is cooked, the show is over and Mr. Wonderful fades away and so does my yearning and envy. Who knows he probably has as many devils to battle as I do.

Besides the grass is always greener on the other side of the bed.

Time to stop wasting energy on mindless self destruction and TV which has its moments too.

The quiet in the room an gentle sound of the rain drops striking the window panes reminds me of another day long ago and geographically far away–almost in another life. A little boy proudly rides his 24 inch wheeled Ranger bike over to his friend’s house. They admire his newly acquired birthday present and celebrate his graduation to a two-wheeler. Friend’s mother calls him to the telephone (it’s one of those new one-piece cradle phones–not like the old two-piece upright one at home.) The message is from big brother advising him to come home because of the rain storm and emphasizes be very careful because you are likely to slip and slide and fall and crash your new bike. Brother was especially emphatic about the imminent danger of the trip home. Sufficient to scare the wits (we didn’t say “shit” in those innocent times) out of the neophyte two-wheeler pilot.

The rain stopped long ago and far away memories stopped too. The whistle on the tea kettle beckons.

About the Author