Mothers' Day 2014

Mom

The first year's worth of holidays after losing a loved one is not fun. Mom's passing last October was so close to the winter holidays, they seemed very surreal (especially spending Christmas in Florida). I'll be staying home this Christmas, mostly because I'm going to Las Vegas for Thanksgiving. Just the three of us going: Me, myself and I. No schedule while there (except the ticketed shows I'll be seeing); no agenda. Just some insane people-watching and the sights and food of Sin City. I can't wait.

Still, today has been the most difficult holiday, so far. Most of my friends spent the day with their Moms. I can't begrudge them that. I would have done the same, if I could. Picking out just an "Aunt" card for my father's dear sister was certainly tough, given the lack of them at the store. And not looking for several new books for Mom to read was even tougher. She was midway through the last book I bought her (for her birthday) when she passed. 

I think I've mentioned before that all my mother wanted to be was a mother. She wanted seven children, but ended up with just two. When my parents split up after 27 years, she picked herself up and reinvented herself as a savvy working woman, dating but never re-marrying. She even briefly entertained a hot Russian who was five years younger than I was. She settled down when her health started to fail in her late 50's, but she was kept active by her job and the few friends she had. But once she was forced to retire (the Cadillac dealer she worked for went out of business), she sort of gave up and I watched her steady decline with a very sad heart. When she went into the hospital for the last time, I still had hope she would pull through. I thought we'd have a few more years with her, at least. But it was not to be.

Mom loved kids and animals. She's feeding a lorakeet at the Lowry Park Zoo in Tampa in that picture, the last time we went to visit my sister together (I'm guessing 2009). A voracious reader, she often went through two or three novels a week; mostly thrillers and mysteries. The last book she finished was "Under the Dome" because she like the series. She loved "The Walking Dead;" "Falling Skies;" "Grey's Anatomy;" "Scandal;" "Mike and Molly" (a show I find terribly unfunny); "Rizzoli and Isles;" "The Closer"/"Major Crimes;" and "Castle" and she'd be really pissed if she knew she was missing the "24" mini-series. She couldn't spell if you held a gun to her head; she mangled pronunciations and was the Queen of Spoonerisms. She was quick to laugh at herself about it, too. She often got celebrity names confused (Morgan Freeman was always Morgan Fairchild) and while she said she never had a favorite movie, if forced to pick one, it would have been Doctor Zhivago. 

She taught my sister and I to cook and do laundry when we were young so we would never have to depend on her. Her cooking when we were kids was awesome, though she often admitted my marinara (based on hers), was better than hers (even though she didn't really like either version). She raised us to be kind to everyone and to not have prejudices. When I finally came out to her, she cried - not because I was gay (she already knew that) but because she thought I was afraid to tell her. She came to almost every show I was in or directed until it became physically too difficult for her to do so and was always supportive of my artistic endeavors. She could out-swear most truckers and occasionally let her own mother's prejudices sneak out, but never with real malice and never without an admonition from me.

It's only been seven months since she left us and I know it will be a long time before I'm really used to the fact that she's gone, but today was just a little bit harder. I miss her - a lot -  and am not ashamed to admit it.

If your Mom is still with you, I hope you at least called her today. If you and your Mom are estranged or if your Mom is also gone, I hope you got through today as painlessly as possible. 

Happy Mothers' Day, Mom. And Happy Mothers' Day to you and your mother, as well.

Comedian John Roberts (of the terrible "Bob's Burgers") nails the suburban mom on the head with his video "Mother's Day."* And while Mom wasn't nearly as whiny as Roberts, I can hear her voice in plenty of the things he says.

*The placement of the apostrophe in Mothers' Day causes tons of anxiety. I must insist that since it is a day for all mothers, it should come after the final 'S,' while there are those who insist on making it singular by placing the apostrophe before the 'S.' IMHO, punctuating it the latter way makes it about one mother only.  Bad form, indeed.

More, anon.
Prospero

Philadelphia

Honestly... Not the Best Sandwich in America

Yesterday was K's birthday. She's 3 2 years older than Uncle P, but just like me, acts 10 (or more) years younger. Today, our two other BFFs (Q and Dale) treated K to a day in Center City Philadelphia, starting with a visit to the Reading Terminal Market and a stop at Tommy DiNic's for an Italian Pork Sandwich with Kohlrabi broccolirabe (voted 'Best Sandwich in America' by Travel Channel's cute bear Adam Richman). Yes, the roast pork was delicious, but the kohlrabi broccolirabe was cooked with some rather intense garlic, which made the sandwich a bit too garlickly to be actually good. I saved half and will remove most of the kohlrabi broccolirabe before I eat the rest. Truth be told, I've had a better sandwich at any number of more local places.

We wandered about the very crowded market for another hour or so and I ended up buying some delicious local cheese; a jar of seedless blackberry jam; an amazingly delicious black cherry balsamic vinegar and a homeopathic remedy for my poor mother's increasingly painful night leg cramps. I also got to taste a sample of an astoundingly delicious Maple/Bacon cupcake, which found both Dale and myself in foodie heaven.

Afterwards, we made out way to the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which I haven't visited in a very long time. We wandered about the first floor which houses the museum's collection of Modern Art (much of which confounded K - and some of which confounded Uncle P) and then made our way up to the second floor. There we found some amazing and intricate Renaissance and early Dutch; English and American art and furniture. Nearly exhausted from all the walking, eating and carrying-on, we made our way home having spent a day with people we love very much... and that's what really mattered in the end. 

Between last night's rather wonderful date and today's visit to the very nearby Cradle of American Democracy, this weekend has proven to be one I will remember for quite some to come. Of course, tomorrow will involve involve bill-paying, grocery shopping, house cleaning and laundry... a bit of a let-down from what's come before. But I'm not complaining.

More, anon.
Prospero

First 1st Date In a Very Long Time

I Hope He's Not a "Dud"

So, having (mostly deliberately) been single for quite some time, it suddenly dawned on Uncle P that he wasn't getting any younger. And while I have so many wonderful and loving friends in my life, I hated being the 5th or 7th at dinner. And not just that; I missed intimate contact. So, a few months ago I joined a couple of dating sites, hoping to meet someone who wasn't just out for a booty call. 

I corresponded with some very attractive and very interesting people, most of whom were as far away as Sweden and Brazil. Not exactly conducive to a serious relationship, though they helped me get a feel for the online dating thing in the 21st Century (it can be very scary out there).  Now you must remember, I am a man of size and well-over 40. My chances of finding a life partner at this point in my life are... well, let's say 'low.' I met my last BF online through AOL, so you know how long ago that was...

About three weeks ago, I was contacted by T, through one of the sites I'd joined. He lived within driving distance; we shared more than a few traits in common and from his photos on the site where we were matched, he seemed reasonably attractive. We went back and forth through the site's email system a few times and then went to personal emails which soon led to texting and actual phone conversations and even more photo sharing. We thought we might have a connection and finally decided we should meet. Tonight was that meeting.

Now, Uncle P is no fool. Hannibal Lecter; Jeffrey Dahmer and Ted Bundy all looked great on paper.  T and I met at a chain restaurant (where our server was an theatre acquaintance of mine) for a few drinks, appetizers and dessert. I arrived first and secured a booth with a view of the door and waited (I have a habit of being early, except when it counts -- oops! TMI?). I waited, a little more than nervous and warming my hands by alternately blowing and sitting on them. I texted him: "I'm here. Got a booth with a view of the door." 

I couldn't help but have this bit of nonsense running through my mind:

A few minutes later, T arrived and I waved. He waved back and approached and we both had broad smiles on our faces. My anxiety level dropped almost immediately.

T was not only even more attractive in real life, but funny, warm and very sweet. Easy to smile and laugh with a devilish cleft chin, T was, well... charming. Over the next several hours we talked about tons of things (including brief stops on exes; theatre; sports; work; movies; parents; friends and who the hell knows what else), all the while (warning - Cheese Alert) playing 'footsie' under the table. We both admitted that friends had offered escape plans if things weren't going well, but neither of us used them. Two and and half hours flew by and I can't remember the last time I had such a good time on a first date.

And you will all be proud to note that as much as I wanted to do so much more than play 'footsie' with T, we both retired to our own homes for the evening, after the promise of a second date and some rather chaste kisses in the parking lot.

I must admit, I'm feeling a lot better about myself than I have in a long time. Of course, I'm not counting any chickens, but I am very much looking forward to Date # 2. And I'm so glad that tonight was nothing like this:

Bad movie. Very good first date.

More, anon.
Prospero