A One-Finger Salute to February

I've had it. I don’t know how long I can stand it. I hate constantly being chilled to the bone even inside my home. I feel like an astronaut when I have to put on boots, coat, scarf, gloves, and hat just to take my trash out. Is it right that my fingers hurt every time I go outside? Why is it that the interior of my car doesn't warm up until I pull into the parking lot of my destination?

I usually keep a good perspective on the darkest time of year - at first. Early winter has it's enjoyable moments. The holidays sparkle with colored lights and festive merriment. It's fun to pull those sweaters out of storage. The afghan on the sofa beckons cozily. Fantasies of toasty soup and hot chocolate envision a season of cocooning in front of a fire, or in my case, the television.

But by February, the sparkle has turned to gray slush. This is the long stretch between holidays (Valentine’s Day doesn't count unless you're in a new relationship or work for Hallmark) when the drudgery of living without something to look forward to is compounded by endless darkness and cheerless dreariness.

This last round of below zero temperatures pushed me to the limit. I actually wore four shirts at the same time, in hopes of being a little warmer. I considered wearing mittens to bed except it brought to mind an eccentric uncle who wore gloves in the summer.

If Colorado’s Front Range isn't encased in snow and ice this time of year, it's dry and brown. The plains are dusty, dirty, and smoggy between snows. I am aware that the sun is up a little longer each day (everyone is reminding me), but the warmth of spring and the smell of green grass is still a distant dream. And our snowiest month, March, hasn't even started yet.

This past week as I shivered under a heavy blanket and two cats, I watched blizzard coverage on WGN, the TV station out of Chicago that everyone gets on cable. The Windy City was socked with their third worst snow in history, stranding motorists for hours and causing headaches for the outgoing Daley administration. Hey, I'm from Nebraska - I love seeing weather on TV.

I remember winters in the Midwest. One year in Lincoln, my front tire got caught in the same ice rut multiple times over a period of months. It didn’t melt. It might still be there. I remember not seeing the sun for weeks at a time. Denver is downright tropical by comparison. At least our snow melts between snowfalls and we do have the occasional 60 degree day.

Ah! 60 degrees! That's around the average temperature in San Diego this time of year. Sometimes it's a lot warmer. But there is no snow, at least down in the city. There is occasionally snow up in the nearby mountains, causing many who live at sea level to drive up a couple thousand feet to see it. Watching local weather in California, I’m amazed that, unencumbered by snow tires, people visit the chilly mountains wearing flip-flops and actually roll around in the freezing stuff I desperately try to escape.

Next week I will take my 12th annual vacation to San Diego. Leaving a poor winter-bound friend to sit my house and cats, I'll be staying at a nice hotel, Facebooking on a balcony looking over the bay at the downtown skyline. I'll have to motivate myself to drive over a big hill to get to the beach, but I'll be wearing shorts. There’s an In-N-Out Burger on the way. I'll drive with the windows down. I'll gaze at palm trees and think about how they don’t look real. I'll walk barefoot in salty wet sand.

When I return from 10 days of lovely California sunshine, April will be that much closer. And if it rains, I’ll still enjoy myself. Rain isn’t snow.

We Have Nothing to Fear but ... Volcanoes and Elevators

I'm not what you'd call a hysterical person. I maintain my calm and usually think logically through every problem before reacting. My analytical outlook prevents me from panic when unforeseen disasters occur - with one or two notable exceptions.

I am totally nervous about the supervolcano under Yellowstone National Park.

Every 600,000 years or so, this volcano erupts, burying North America in ash, disrupting the climate worldwide, and causing the extinction of countless species. 1,000 times larger than Mount St. Helens which exploded in the northwest in 1980 and blew ash all over our cars in Nebraska, Yellowstone, which is due for another eruption (could be tomorrow, could be another 100,000 years), will completely obliterate everything 100 miles in diameter. Goodbye Old Faithful and Jackson Hole. No more Tetons. The town where my sister lives would be toast.

Think that’s a shame but you could live with it? Think again.

Poison gasses will wipe out all life for at least 1,000 miles in every direction (most of the western U.S. including my home in Denver). The atmosphere all over the world will be darkened by ashy air for several years, plunging our planet into an ice age resulting in mass famine and starvation.

While other people watch "reality" TV shows like American Idol, I watch a lot of real reality TV on the Science, History, and National Geographic channels. Ask me anything about asteroids, mega-tsunamis, viral pandemics, solar storms, gamma rays, and anything else that could wipe us out. Though I don’t sleep well, I’m up on how the world could end.

But I can't watch Animal Planet. It upsets me too much to see a cat or dog suffering in the vet’s office, even if they do get well in the end.

You know, there are a lot of things more likely to kill me than a volcano, so it's odd that this is the one that keeps me awake at night.

For example, I drive to work every morning in the dark on a crowded freeway going 75 miles per hour. As if this alone didn't put me within a hair's breadth of a sudden and fiery end, what about the other idiots talking on cell phones and doing their makeup while driving ... But my neurotic anxiety about volcanoes doesn't extend to traffic situations.

I do have fears not related to natural disasters.

I fear my windshield washer fluid will run out. I fear I won't get to the airport two hours before my flight is scheduled to leave. I fear the cable will go out during Modern Family.

In addition, riots in other countries, crime, unemployment statistics, the eventual bankruptcy of Social Security, Sarah Palin – all are frightening, but I don’t lose sleep over them like I do those natural disasters where we have no control.

There is a place for fear: it motivates us to get away from situations which might harm us - if we can get away.

But fear can also be irrational.

I was once stuck in an elevator for about five minutes during which I worked myself into a full-fledged panic attack. I can't logically explain why I was so upset, but the guy on the other end of the emergency phone loudly and clearly got the message that no, I could not hold on a few minutes more. By the time the security and maintenance departments came with a big crowbar to pry the doors open, I was in a frothy sweat and I really had to go to the bathroom.

If I'm that way in an elevator, what will I do if that volcano blows?

Anti-Gay? Are You Sure?

A recent Facebook exchange has been bothering me.

One of my FB friends declared that a public persona was probably a conservative Republican and therefore anti-gay.

It’s no great leap to make such a claim. One only need look at congress to see who votes pro-gay (Democrats, in case you were wondering), and who votes anti-gay (Republicans, duh). Yes, there are exceptions, such as Senator Susan Collins (R) from Maine who has, at worst, a mixed record.

Just to make my own bias clear: I am pro-gay and very wary (not to mention weary) of most Republicans, particularly conservative ones.

Another FB friend, however, defensively and angrily responded to the first FB friend that as a conservative Republican, neither she nor her other conservative Republican friends are anti-gay.

True – there are Republicans who are not anti-gay. The Log Cabin Republicans are largely gay and Republican. In fact, many Republicans are fiscally conservative (wanting to limit the amount of money government spends) and socially, well, moderate. Frankly, I don’t know of any socially liberal Republicans, but I could be wrong. Let’s stick with moderate.

I agree we shouldn’t paint any one group of people with the same brush. Don’t even get me started on the red-state/blue-state stereotypes that after the 2004 election cast everyone in the middle of the country as homophobic, racist, war-mongering fascists. Wherever you go, you can find people who are quite accepting of those different from themselves. And, everywhere you go, there are rabidly hateful and intolerant individuals.

What bothers me about my conservative Republican friend who is not anti-gay is the vehemence of her defensiveness. She seems quite sure that she has been unjustly attacked by our broad, sweeping generalizations. And yet, I doubt if she has ever lost a job because of her sexual orientation. I’ll bet when she’s sick, her husband is allowed into her hospital room, no questions asked. I’ll bet her very basic civil rights have never been subject to a majority vote. I’m sure that while she was growing up, she never ached to see role models in literature or on TV, or in her own family, who resembled herself. I’ll bet she never wondered, as a child, if there even was anyone else in the world like her. I’ll bet when she was asked to be on a committee at church, no one questioned whether her orientation disqualified her from serving. I’ll bet if her spouse died, his family would not sweep in, pretend that she didn’t exist, and claim ownership of all his belongings.

Really, who has the right to be defensive and angry here?

Here are some questions I’d like to ask of anyone who says they aren’t anti-gay.

1. Do you believe most people who identify as gay or lesbian can choose not to be that way?

2. Do you believe that lifetime commitments between two loving partners should be legally sanctioned with every benefit of a heterosexual marriage, no matter what their genders?

3. What would you do if you found out one of your children were gay?

4. Should patriotic gay and lesbian Americans who feel called to serve their country in the armed forces be allowed to do so without fear of expulsion?

5. Do you believe that a child can be healthfully raised in a loving home that just happens to be headed by a same sex couple?

I won’t bother to spell out whether how you answered renders you pro-gay, a little homophobic, or anti-gay. Just consider your answers and think twice before lashing out in anger at a GAY PERSON who may NOT completely understand YOU.

And if you answered the questions the same way I do, then I’ll agree you aren’t anti-gay, no matter what your political affiliation.

How Do Parents Do It?

Worn out from a tough day at work, I navigate the rush-hour freeway home.

It's not unusual to stop at Petsmart for cat litter or food, or stop at the supermarket for my own supplies. Miscellaneous errands to Target, Great Clips, or Walgreens are often part of the commute home.

Finally, much later with darkness having descended, I pull into my carport.

Home at last!

In order to avoid multiple trips, I simultaneously juggle a back pack, a gym bag (from the early morning pre-work workout), groceries, cat food, and whatever else as I trudge from the car to the front door, stopping at the mailbox on the way.

Arms full, before leaving the mailbox, I attempt to sort the junk from the mail that I want, in order to minimize what I have to carry. When I finally reach my doorstep, I have to put everything down, dig through my pocket for keys, and unlock the door - placing my foot strategically near the floor by the doorframe in case there's a cat plotting to dash out.

Usually, both cats greet me noisily as I re-gather up all the bags and mail and come inside. As they circle around me, I fumble for the light so I don't accidentally step on them. Their meowing is intense and insistent. They have been sleeping all day and are ready for some action, commencing with their dinner.

It doesn't matter that all I want to do is put my feet up and veg for a while. I don't drink, but the thought of a beer and a moment of quiet is rather appealing at this point. If I sit down and, for example, boot up the laptop to check email or scan Facebook, Lily, senior cat, places herself in my line of vision so I am unable to see the keyboard or the screen. She’s not above sitting on my wrists as I type. Neither cat will let me pet them now - they have other plans.

Reluctantly, I drag myself to the kitchen to prepare their dinner - Lily is allergic to half the food I give them and Charles won't eat big chunks so I have to mash it up for him. Their kitty dishes may still be in the dishwasher which I hurriedly started early that morning, so I open it up and debate whether I should empty the whole thing now or just take out what I need.

In the hallway, a basket of laundry resides. I put it there before leaving home to remind me that I need to wash some clothes.

The cats don't care. They want to eat. Now. Somehow, they eventually get fed, the dishwasher is emptied, and the laundry is rotating in the machine.

I may now consider my own eating. Should I have one of the frozen dinners which I really don't like but that are convenient? Should I put some effort into cooking? If I'd thought about it, I would have picked up some Japanese take out on the way home - but of course, that would have been more to carry in. I haven't ordered a pizza since going on Weight Watchers, but it sure is tempting if only because it would be so easy.

When the laundry is done it needs to be hung or put away. There are newly dirty glasses and plates to put in the dishwasher. The cat boxes need cleaning. The housework never ends!

When I eventually get to collapse and rest from a long day, I can't help but wonder how parents do it. I can barely care for two cats and myself without being exhausted and overwhelmed. What would I do if I had to feed children every night? And help with homework? And baths and stories? I think the cats can't wait, but I know little humans can't.

Though the food wasn't always good, though she sometimes made me crazy, my mother always had dinner on the table at the end of the day. Her house ran like clockwork. How did she do it? I think I'll put my feet up for a moment and give it some thought.

Things to Do Before I Die

I've reached the part of midlife where a man typically buys a red sports car, dates a teenager, and gets hair transplants in the futile attempt to recapture his youth.

I’m in no danger of doing any of those things. But between a recent birthday and the coming of a new year, I sense mortality creeping ever closer.

I have no desire to be young again but it has occurred to me that at this point there's more time behind me than in front. As a result, if there's anything I want to do I'd better get it done before it's too late.

So to commemorate the passing of another year, I set out to make a bucket list. In case you don't know what that is, a bucket list is a list of things you want to do before you die.

Turns out it isn't as easy as I thought.

It's tempting to write down the usual clichés, but most aren't things I really want to do. For example, I could list sky diving, but I'm not trying to speed up the end of my life. Another typical item for people in this part of the country is climbing all 54 fourteeners (mountains over 14,000 feet) in Colorado. I can't think of much I'd rather not do more.

I've really already done most everything I ever wanted to do. I've lived in some varied places. I've earned a Masters degree. I get paid to do what I love, which is writing. Granted, my technical and training materials aren't best sellers, but still...

Just surviving this long is quite an accomplishment considering how I spent my 20s. Some of my friends didn't make it this far. I'm a lucky guy.

So what is on my list?

I've always wanted to stay at the Brown Palace - Denver's finest historic hotel. It's luxurious, dripping with Victorian elegance, and expensive. It's also haunted. I've never been able to justify spending the money it costs to stay there. But one of these days, I'll just cough up the dough and go.

I would like to visit the three states I've never been to: Alaska, Maine, and Vermont. Saying I've been to all 50 states seems more doable and frankly more interesting than 54 mountains.

I'd like to learn Spanish. It's a prominent language in the U.S. and likely to become more so (in spite of the narrow-minded efforts of some who would like to legislate it away).

And then I'd like to go to South America and speak it. One fun fantasy is to walk down the Avenue de Mayo and sing, "I want to B A part of B A, Buenos Aries, BIG APPLE!" In case you're not gay, that's from the musical, Evita.

That's my short list. I guess I'm pretty lucky to have had such a satisfying life, or at least reasonable (low?) hopes and expectations. And upon reflection, I probably have plenty of time to do these things before I kick the bucket. But perhaps I’d better Google Spanish classes just in case.

A Huge Leap in the Right Direction

Today’s  65 to 31 vote in the U.S. Senate to overturn the misguided 17 year old compromise allowing gays and lesbians to serve in the military (NY Times story), but only if they keep it a secret, is a major step forward for our country.

There are times when I think we’re going backwards, what with all the political extremism and ignorance so evident among candidates in the recent election.

But today let’s put that aside and celebrate a huge leap in the right direction.

Yes, it shouldn’t have taken so long.

No, it’s amazing that we are so far behind other countries like Israel where everyone has to serve, without consideration of sexual orientation, and Canada, where in every province, gays and lesbians can get married.

Clearly we have a long way to go. But I believe we’re going to get there.

When I came out of the closet at age 17, the military was the furthest thing from my mind. I registered for the draft, but I had no intention of joining up, and I was quite relieved when I realized that they wouldn’t take me anyway. It never occurred to me that it should be my right to serve. I just wanted to move to the big city where the other gays were and live my life in peace.

Back then, I never would have imagined that legalized gay marriage would be the central controversy of the gay rights movement. We’ve come a long way.

Sure, I want things to happen more quickly, but this kind of change is hard fought. Women’s suffrage took nearly a century. Slavery required a bloody war. But eventually, missteps, battles, and all, we eventually get to where we need to go.

And of course there is still sexism and racism, and there will always be homophobia. But sexism and racism are fringe in the 21st century, unacceptable to the mainstream. Homophobia is now one step closer to the fringe as well.

Desegregation of the armed forces signaled the eventual end to legal segregation everywhere in the U.S. Today's decisive victory over "Don't Ask Don't Tell" signals the eventual crumbling of institutional homophobia. When the majority of military people think it's a non-issue, it’s easy to foresee that only the most die-hard religious fundamentalists who wallow in their own bigotry will be left behind.

We’ll need to keep fighting, but today, let’s stop for a moment and celebrate.

Making the Most of the Holidays by Doing Less

I didn't go to the company party this year. I just didn't want to. By the time Friday night comes around, I'm exhausted after a long work week. I don't want to dress up.

While I'm at it, I'm not sending out holiday letters this year. Scrambling for stamps and cutting my tongue while licking envelopes is a daunting prospect. Anyway, I suspect that Facebook, for better or worse, is making the holiday letter something of a relic.

I’m often called a grinch. I own that. I’ve been called worse.

I'm not putting up a Christmas tree for the second year in a row. My two year old cat, Charles, won't let me. I tried it. He wants to eat the branches. And I mean the plastic, synthetic branches of my artificial tree. I didn't even get the glass ornaments out. I'm sure he would make quick work of those.

General principle: if it causes more trouble than pleasure, or if the merriment is compulsory, then I opt out. It’s all about boundaries. My energy is limited.

I haven’t Christmas shopped for several years. Everyone I know has way more stuff than they need - including me. The last time I was in a mall at Christmas, I think Pat Schroeder was our Congresswoman and I saw her shopping at Niemen Marcus. Instead, I’ve made a practice of donating the money I would have spent on presents to the Denver Dumb Friends League (the local Humane Society). Family members seem to appreciate that as much as any doo-dad I could buy them.

Why do we drive ourselves crazy with activities that don't add to our or anyones’ enjoyment of the season?

I haven't gone to a New Years Eve party for several years. I don't drink and I can't stay awake late. I prefer to quietly reflect on the coming year and perhaps make a reasonable resolution or two. New Years Day, I want the flexibility to be depressed about the prospect of a long, dark winter without being forced into false cheer.

Don’t get me wrong. When I do elect to take part in holiday goings-on I will do so with relish.

Here’s what I plan to enjoy before the year changes:

• Lights. Lots of colored lights. Charles did allow a couple of strings at home, just not on a tree. Most years, I drive around the city looking at lights. There’s a house in my neighborhood which is loaded with illumination and even has its own radio station so you can listen to music choreographed with moving parts and sophisticated light shows. And in Denver, no tour of lights is complete without driving by the City and County Building, easily the most spectacular holiday display in the Mountain Time Zone.
• Dinner at Fresh Fish Company. Yes, for me, Christmas, New Years, and my birthday are all one big glop of holiday. Like many restaurants, if you sign up for it, Fresh Fish Company sends a postcard every year near your birthday allowing a percentage off your entre equal to your age. That grilled salmon and asparagus drizzled with hollandaise sauce with a side of garlic mashed potatoes is getting closer and closer to half price for me.
• Time with family. My family is a lot of fun and it just wouldn’t seem right to celebrate Christmas without them. This year, my siblings and nieces and I will converge on my dad’s house in Fort Collins. I’ll probably make corn chowder for Christmas Eve. Some of us will go to church, most of us won’t. I’ll drive home to Denver late so I can feed the cats and get some sleep. Christmas morning, I’ll rise early and head up there again.

So you see, I’m not a total grinch. I simply like to get the most out of my holiday by doing less. If you see me at a festivity this month, you’ll know I’m not faking merriment. If you don’t see me, well, happy New Year.