New Home Riddled With Problems, I Mean, Character

The move is complete.

I accept your hearty congratulations.

I'm all settled in my little ranch style house/condo/4-plex/residence.

Well, not completely settled. I'm still moving some furniture around, looking for just the right arrangement. I've purchased a swamp-cooler which I have to set up before it gets hot. I'm figuring out how to cope with how quickly cat liter spreads across those hard-wood floors.

The cats are figuring out the best places to sleep (Lily on the big pillow under the coffee table and Charles on the DVR because it's warm).

To be honest, the honeymoon period has been a little rocky. There are a number of things I didn't check before purchase which I now wish I had:

This is what a kitchen with no drawers looks like

• There are no drawers in the kitchen - not one. Don't know how I missed that. 
• Not all the windows have screens. 
• Not all the windows had locks. They do now. 
• The neighbors can hear the alarm every time I set or unset my new home security system. 
• The slope by the garage door scrapes the bottom of the car, unless you go just the right speed and turn in/out at just the right angle. 
• The neighbors can hear my deluxe surround sound system. 
• The neighbors can probably hear me go to the bathroom. 
• The knob on the back door comes off in your hand if you turn it the wrong way. 
• Front blinds don't go all the way down - rather one side does and the other doesn't. I see custom shutters in my future. 
• Because of the way they are arranged, you can't open the dishwasher and reach the cupboards at the same time - makes it a challenge to put dishes away. 
• The front screen door doesn't close all the way unless you pull it shut - no big deal unless you have cats. 
• The combination washer-dryer doesn't dry, it only washes. 
• Where is the furnace? Why does the heat come on when the thermostat is set to off?

Granted, I can live with most of these problems or fix them. But I admit to wondering whether it was wise to move out of a perfectly functioning domicile with working shutters.

The answer is clear when I go back to the old condo which I am preparing to rent out. I walk into the empty living room and say, "Boy, is this place small." The new (older) place is bigger. The bedroom is actually a bedroom, not a combination bedroom-office-laundry room. So what if there's a big burnt spot on the living room floor which had been covered up by the realtor's staging furniture. That just adds to the character of the place. Yeah, that's it. Character.

One Year Later

One Year Later

It seems strange

That we can't share

All that has happened in your absence

Our lives go on

Birthdays, travel, illness

Thanksgiving with an empty seat

We remark on what you'd say of this and that

When your dog died we grieved for you

How odd it was to disassemble your home

To learn more about you as a veteran

Yet of necessity, we turned off sentiment so we could fill that dumpster in the driveway

Nearly a century of belongings whittled down to fit a shelf or a box

I don't think you're really gone

This impulse to pick up the phone and call with news

The strong desire to give you my new address so you can find me

Wherever you are your wisdom comforts

Love lives on

Lists Key to Moving

Note to readers: sorry to inflict all this moving drama on you, but be warned, it's going to last another couple of months.

There are millions of things to do when you buy a new home and prepare to move. In addition to securing the mortgage, struggling to understand realtor lingo, managing inspections and appraisals, and fantasizing about color palates, there are all the little details to take care of. There is no way anyone can remember everything. The solution:

Lists.

Not a list. Many lists. There's a list for the old house, the new house, a list of what ridiculous things the mortgage lender still needs (last week it was an accounting for every address I've lived at since the 1970s), a list of what needs to be done prior to moving day ... and don't forget the list of regular life things that have nothing to do with the move but must be dealt with regardless, such as getting the cat's medicine refilled.

One list has a note on it to check another list.

Here's a sampling of what's on my lists - and I've only just started:

• Line up movers
• Change address at post office
• Change address for all accounts
• Start planning house warming party
• Move cable
• Figure out what to do with cats during move (tranquilizers?)
• Call Xcel
• Fix garbage disposal old place
• Inspect (replace?) furnace old place
• Find out what kind of filters to buy for new place furnace
• Figure out what to do with those old electronics I don't know where to recycle
• Treat wood floors at new place before moving in
• Get boxes
• Measure new garage to see if car will fit
• Find out how to treat wood floors
• Find a property management company for the old place
• Start boxes for Goodwill
• Change address at work
• Insurance home and car
• Voter registration
• DMV car and driver's license

I remember now why when I last moved in 1997, I swore I would never move again.

When I last moved, I kept all my lists on paper legal pads, noting items with a ballpoint pen and crossing tasks out when completed. How quaint that was!

Now I have an iPhone, something which is new in my life but which I'm finding quite handy. The lists reside primarily in the app called "Reminders." It's nice to be able to whip it out of my pocket and add something when I think of it, and it's nice to have access to my lists when I need to obsess about all that needs to be done. When a task is completed, I can gleefully delete it.

And yet, I'm afraid I'm missing something. Some little task that if I don't do it, will wreck the whole move. If it's any comfort, I don't think anyone's move goes 100 percent perfectly. I think you just have to hold your nose and charge ahead. Speaking of noses, all the dust from moving likely will cause my allergies to flare up. Better put tissues on the list.

Movin On Up? Part II

Who says I'm not flexible? My very specific fantasy of living in a high rise with a balcony quickly succumbed to the reality of space limitations, parking restrictions, and cost per square foot. The long and short of it is that I'm not moving to a deluxe apartment in the sky, but a rather middle class ranch style domicile at ground level with a garage.

I was just about to give up on finding a better place to live. There is nothing wrong with my current abode of 17 years. It's a little small, but it's paid off and very cheap to maintain. Sure, I'd like a guest room sometimes. Other times, I'm glad I don't have one. The places I looked at last weekend with my handsome realtor, Glen, were either too small (and expensive), too much "fixer upper," or were snatched up by someone else before I had a chance to even think about it. In some cases it was all of the above.

I was exhausted after one day of looking but as I prepared to email Glen to forget it, I noticed he sent me a couple more listings.

Cut to Monday: I found myself digging through files for financial statements, signing endless forms, asking for time off to attend a closing next month, and talking on the phone multiple times with Glen and Michelle, my mortgage lender lady.

Caught in a whirlwind of paperwork and a frenzy of describing the new (to me) residence to friends, I had an attack of "ohmygodwhathaveIdone."

I've spent the past few days talking myself out of a continuous anxiety attack. Fact is, I have a little money to invest, and this is a good investment in a nice neighborhood. I'll enjoy the extra space and hardwood floors, and did I mention the garage?

So what if it's not the penthouse portrayed in the opening of Green Acres. I wouldn't look good in Lisa Douglas's flowing gowns anyway.

Movin on Up?

When I was a little boy, my dream was to live in a big city apartment. I'm sure that dream was born of watching TV because there were no big city apartments in Kimball, Nebraska, where I was born.

I thought the opening of Green Acres was fabulous when Eva Gabor swept back the curtains to a view of the Manhattan skyline. I, also, adore a penthouse view. I sympathized with her character, forced to live in the country with a bunch of bumpkins when she could be shopping in the city.

Later, when I was six, my favorite TV show was The Courtship of Eddie's Father, where a little boy lived with his handsome dad (Bill Bixby) in a cool high rise with a balcony and a housekeeper. That's what I wanted.

Of course I ended up not glamorously in the sky but on the ground floor between the mailboxes and the laundry room.

When I moved into my condo, I planned to stay about a year. I'd build up a little equity, save some money, and then move to Capitol Hill where I really wanted to live. That was 16 years ago. 

In the early 90s, I rented a roomy two bedroom apartment in central Denver with huge closets for $350 a month. It was Heaven. But by the time I was ready to buy, the real estate boom had taken hold and I couldn't afford to live in my own neighborhood.

I was forced to invest in my current property on the far away southeast side of the city (ok, it's 10 minutes from my old apartment, but that's light years in urban neighborhood terms).

I'm still in my "starter" home. Of course it's much nicer than when I moved in. The avocado green kitchen is gone. The flowery 1970s decor in the bathroom has been replaced by subdued gray walls, a blue granite counter, and elegant silver fixtures. My pad is nice now. But there's no balcony.

It's not just the building I'm thinking of changing. It's the neighborhood.

There's nothing actually wrong with my neighborhood. It's as safe as any in the city. There are plenty of stores and public transportation. The population is interestingly diverse. I love watching the South Asian men play cricket in the park across the street, for example (and it's not because of my interest in sports).

But Cap Hill has history, architectural diversity, a larger Gay population, a more urban feel, and tall buildings with balconies.

I have reached a point where if I'm going to move, now would be a good time. I have a little cash for a down payment and the interest rates are low. I'm not sure I'll do it. But I would sure like to fling open the shutters and see something besides the neighbors carting laundry.

Keeping Up with Communications Technology

My current cell phone was purchased in 2010 under protest. I didn't think I needed it. My previous cell phone was just fine. It allowed me to call someone and receive calls.

It was an improvement over the one before which took two hands to hold and only worked if you stood in a certain place outside, holding your elbow exactly the right way. That one was so primitive it practically required a crank to use, and was worthless in the isolated parts of Wyoming where I sometimes go.

I'm old enough to remember when having a phone in the car was something of a novelty, reserved for the very rich and possibly mobsters.

Anyway, the cell phone company refused to fix the newer phone that I liked, and insisted that I procure yet a newer model, which I did.

My new phone could make and receive calls, but also had texting which I wasn't sure I would ever use. Turned out that while certain female relatives rarely returned phone calls, they did respond to texts. A convert, I now text more than I talk.

But at three years old, my texting cell is a dinosaur in phone time. When the protective case broke a while back, I went to the special mobile device store to get a new one. The young, technically gifted employee sadly shook her head and said they didn't make that model anymore. It looks like it may be time to upgrade again.

Because of brilliant marketing and planned obsolescence, I am now probably going to have to buy one of those things that are way more than just a phone.

I don't want to surf the net. I wouldn't know what to do with an "app" if it hit me in the head. I suppose I might take a picture, but not a video. I just want to make phone calls and send texts. Yes, I work with technology every day at my job. But at home I want my computer to be my computer and my phone to be my phone. I suppose it's possible that, like texting, once I have "apps" I'll enjoy them and wonder how I ever lived without them.

I must admit I'm still impressed when I'm in the car with someone, and a question no one can answer comes up, and within seconds Google has given us the answer - in the car! Truly these aren't phones anymore. They're portable computing and communication devices.

Dating Interferes with Sleep - Is It Worth It?

Once or twice a year, I might go on a date.

I thought by my age I'd be either comfortably settled with someone or too old to care. Neither is the case.

In fact, I have a couple of online personal ads posted. They are old and dusty, lying unused save for the occasional update when my weight or hair (amount or color) changes.

Once in a while an ad gets answered by an impossibly good looking 25 year old in someplace like Nigeria who needs me to send him some money so he can escape persecution... you get the idea.

So personal ads don't work for me. Problem is, I don't know what would work. I'm too old to go clubbing - I'm asleep by 9:00 and bars don't heat up until 11:00, or so I'm told. I don't meet potential dates at work - everyone there is way too young, straight, or married. I used to meet boyfriends at church, but I've been going to the early service lately which is mostly the domain of senior citizens, for the moment just a little too old for me.

Gay men my age don't seem to be available. Like me, they have busy lives and limited time. Careers are in full swing. Many have elderly parents, or children and grandchildren to care for. Most have dogs and cats which take priority, as well they should. They, and I, are not interested in wasting time on someone with whom we know it won't work.

I'd rather be alone than tolerate someone who I discover on the third date is, for example, a Republican. And face it: I'd rather get a good night's sleep than stay up late getting to know someone who turns out to be allergic to my cats.

Why should I even try at all? While I'm happy and well-adjusted as single, I don't want to be alone all of the time. I occasionally desire human companionship - someone to share experiences with.

Is the effort to find such a relationship worth it? When it's 8:30 and I'm sleepy and the cats are curling around me on the bed, I'm not sure it is.

I don't need a boyfriend or husband to be complete. But it might be nice to find someone who could squeeze in alongside the cats.