PEORIA THOUGHTWORKS

Recently, I read a blog primarily focused on dealing with the removal of crack houses from our city. It really caused me to sit up and think about a number of things. One thing I noticed in the comments was a recurrence of racism accusations. I must admit, there were a number of racist remarks that were quite uncalled for on both sides of the fence. It brought me to that age old question of exactly what racism actually is. Touchy subject, to say the least. I have often wondered why people cant move past skin color to get to the real issue. Have we argued for so long that we have become numb to the reality of life? God knows there are and always have been stereotypes. I am sure there always will be. Stereotypes are something like convenience foods. Instead of cooking up ones own thoughts and opinions, it is much easier to just grab a preconceived notion and microwave it. This might be called junk food for the mind.Racism is indeed a terrible thing. Many of us have worked so hard to overcome this in our lives only to see our hard work dashed by some idiot who although not wanting to be stereotyped seems to go out of his way to present himself and his life in a stereotypical manner. If people worked harder at being upstanding and respectable, then they would be more respected. I can’t tell you how many times I have walked down the streets in my own neighborhood and been taunted by hoodlums for their perceptions of my sexuality. I have been openly approached by drug dealers yelling from their porches. I have also been exposed to “the look” more times than I care to admit. By the look, I mean that glare intended to intimidate passersby it being a form of racism in itself. I respect my neighbors, probably sometimes more than they respect themselves. I walk down the sidewalk and am careful to move aside for bicycles. I say hello to everyone I meet and yet over half of them do not have the courtesy or decency to respond–unless they want to bum a cigarette. There is no reason why I should accept rude people congregating in the streets being absurdly loud at 2 in the morning. There is no reason why I should have to blast music in my home to hear it over thumping music coming from passing cars waiting at the stop sign. I shouldn’t have to lower my glance as I pass the home of known crack dealers as I walk to the grocery store to avoid being bothered by their remarks. This isnt racism. This is reality. When someone tries to sell me drugs, they are obviously drug dealers. I didnt just assume so from the color of their skin. Indeed, although their style is not for me, I respect the rights of certain others of all races to drive pimped out autos, play loud music with demeaning lyrics, express their opinions, or do whatever they wish. However, when I express my own opinion, do not confuse it with racism. I couldn’t care less what color you are. It is not an issue of color. It has to do with a PERSON, not a COLOR, who is antagonizing me, disturbing my peace, threatening my sense of security, intruding on my quiet time, selling and using drugs in my city, breaking into my home, and on and on. I want my neighborhood cleaned up not just so the value of my historic home will go up, but rather so that I can sit on my front porch unmolested with my coffee and paper. I don’t wish for my clients to come here to do business and have to witness people who have no respect for others because they have none for themselves. Perhaps we could all do well to work more on the inner person. Why do I not like a lot of the things I mentioned? To me, they are as superficial as many of the people indulging in such behaviors. It seems these days it is more important to spend time pimping out cars and worrying about bling than it is to develop and nurture the person trapped inside. A mind is indeed a terrible thing to waste. So is a life. Get up off your chair, get a job, learn something new, do something to help yourself and your community. It is time to stop taking and start giving. That goes for all of us. Be an example for whatever group you represent–a good example, preferably.This is a country of freedom and with freedom comes choices. If you choose to live in a manner that brings disdain and nonacceptance, you must be prepared to live with the consequences. Dont expect others to respect the unrespectable. When I am taunted for my sexuality, I no longer allow myself to be so upset. I simply remind myself that it is much easier for some people to focus on what they see as another’s shortcomings rather than deal with on their own. Prejudice is a continuously learned behavior. It should go without saying that if people can nurture their prejudices then conversely they can also eliminate them. Granted, it would be much easier to accomplish without the obstacle of dealing with highly visible and socially cancerous rabble hell bent on presenting themselves and others in the worst light possible. Let us all remember that eliminating racism is a two-sided street. Respect me,I respect you. Lets both go first.

1. I am one of two children. Sadly, now I am one.

2. My Mom has been married many times. This taught me to never give up and to never just settle for whatever comes along.

3. I grew up in the South and will always be a proud Southerner.

4. I was once married to a woman. I have since come to my senses.

5. I have one pug, one miniature rat terrier and three cats. Cats make me sneeze. Don’t be afraid to sacrifice a little for love.

6. I have a deep love of classical music and jazz.

7. I am obsessive about a clean house.

8. I have an unnatural love for antiques and vintage things.

9. I have four children–three boys and one girl. Having children teaches you humility. I never seem to have all of the answers.

10. I love red wines. Shiraz and Red Zinfandel.

11. I can’t start my day without good coffee.

12. I finally understand why my grandmother never could find things and often forgot what she owned. My house has become saturated with good things.

13. I have a love-hate relationship with curtains. I am too nosy.

14. I have only matching white hangers in my closet.

15. My eyes and hair are brown. I stopped smoking before my teeth were brown.

16. I had a favorite great-aunt who dyed her hair black, wore polyester, smoked like a freight train and cursed like a sailor. Never be afraid to be yourself.

17. I love winter because I get to wear wonderful sweaters and coats.

18. I have a really irreverent sense of humor. I am going to Hell.

19. My Mom, brother and myself have all been mistaken for siblings.

20. I never liked my name until recently. I must have given up.

21. I love to wear black, neutrals, and earthy colors.

22. I am very ticklish. I screech.

23. I am always the last to finish eating.

24. I only eat with antique silver when at home.

25. I can’t live without massive stockpiles of paper towels.

26. I have an incredible green thumb.

27. I am a very private person and have to have my own space.

28. I hoard food. I have three freezers full and God only knows how much crammed into my pantry.

29. I love beautiful shoes.

30. I have come to prefer glasses after many years of contacts.

31. I hate talking on the phone unless it is with my mom.

32. I believe in beautiful penmanship, manners, and deportment.

33. I cherish being raised around my great-grandmother who was a true product of the Victorian age.

34. I am an incurable bargain hunter.

35. I have no time to be bored.

36. I have been known to talk in my sleep.

37. I love to stare through the window when I am in the shower.

38. I love it when thunder makes the floor shake.

39. I love rainy days.

40. I can’t stand noisy places.

41. I don’t want a clock unless it has hands and ticks.

42. It is important to me to have proper dishes and stemware.

43. Proper manners at the table are of ultimate importance. It is the last bastion of good manners in the home.

44. I believe that we are all obliged to be charitable and humble.

45. I am too skinny and too tall. Or maybe they just make clothes too big and too short.

46. I was raised by a Catholic grandfather and a Pentecostal grandmother.  I understand the chaos of the Crusades.

47. I am a very shy person. Most people would never believe this.

48. I love riding my bicycle. I lived on one as a child.

49. I am often referred to as a grammar nazi.

50. I am experiencing a renaissance of sorts. It is time to refresh my education and to move on to a more solid existence and career.

51. German is my second language.

52. I am a classically trained singer and pianist.

53. I have a lifelong gift for writing.

54. People love my cooking whether it be Southern soul food or haute cuisine.

55. I feel I know more than most people around me. A college education and twenty years in the foodservice have taught me a lot.

56. My house is filled with art and antiques.

57. All of my cookware is professional grade.

58. My present relationship has taught me more about giving and sharing your own gifts with others.

58. No home is complete without a musical instrument, books, good recipes anda place for everyone to sit down to eat.  A good number of plants won’t hurt either.

59. There is no need to build a house. There are plenty of wonderful old homes just waiting to be rescued. This is the ultimate recycling project. Same goes for furniture and other items.

60. Take the television out of your living room. Replace it with good conversation and remember that a coffee table is for coffee, not dinner.

61. At the age of four, I could read and tell time. By fifth grade, I was reading at college level. This is due to encouragement by a grandmother who taught herself to read and write. Turn off the television and read.

62. Every stove needs an old teakettle.

63. The last thing I would use pumpkin for is a pie. That is what sweet potatoes are for. Be creative.

64. I only wear silver jewelry. Gold is ostentatious.

65. Ranch dressing is banned from my house. Even though I like it, I want my children to try new things daily.

66. Most people have no business being parents. A child will not die if told “no” or has its feelings hurt. I never told my children they were special.  They are only special to me. America has too many overindulged children who think the world revolves around them.

67. My great-aunt, mom, and myself all had the same ninth grade science teacher.  She taught about evolution from her own personal experiences.

68. I don’t like grapefruit and turnips. Beyond that, I will eat most anything.

69. I love driving and I hate riding with other people. No one drives as smoothly and carefully as I do.

70. I once spent 45 days in jail for a traffic violation. It was the most peaceful time I have had in a long time. I read over 5,000 pages.

71. I have a hard time sitting still. This amazes me. I am lazy, but used to working constantly.

72. I never miss a detail.

73. Thirteen years of being HIV positive have taught me to appreciate all of the little and big things in life.

74. I only use fresh ground pepper at home.

75. I love linen pants and soft cotton shirts in the summer.

76. I refuse to have blue, yellow or pink in my house. My grandmother wore me out on those colors.

77. Anyone who can’t be comfortable with nice clothes can’t possibly be comfortable with themselves. I can’t imagine going out in public in sweatpants.

78. In my high school in small town Arkansas, teachers cared about education.  We were expected to use good grammar and good manners in ALL classes and not just in English.

79. Americans have no right to bitch about cheap Chinese products and loss of jobs to overseas workers. It is our own fault for thinking we have a God given right to make $25 an hour for manual labor. That is why we can’t afford the few American made products still out there.

80. I could live on cheese. Any cheese.

81. Read history and pay attention to the news. There are too many people who have no idea of what has lead us to this point in time and too often these people have no clue what is going on now. How can we possibly know where we are headed if we don’t know how we got to this point?

82. I worry too much. Will someone else please do it for me for a while?

83. I believe in buying local products and things that are hand crafted.

84. As much as I love antiques, I do not really own them. I am their caretaker so that another generation may enjoy them as much as I have.

85. I have had poetry and other writings published.

86. I hate being photographed.

87. I want to restore a Victorian home. I want one with a conservatory or a sunroom so I can take my morning coffee in a room full of potted palms and dark old wicker furniture.

88. I love to hear the ticking and chiming of old clocks.

89. I enjoy a beautiful yard, but I hate pulling weeds.

90. Nothing beats a good Arkansas tomato.

91. The older I get, the more I embrace that which I have rejected for so many years.

92. I am never happy in a kitchen without a window over the sink.

93. Now that my children have come home to live with me, I have begun to find more purpose in life. The pieces are coming together.

94. I like low lights, candles and Tiffany lamps.

95. There is nothing like the sparkle and glow of crystal.

96. I try to find a lesson in everything that happens in my life.

97. I am the most creative person I know.

98. I try to learn as much of the history of my town as possible. It is important to me to know who lived here and how they lived.

99. I sleep with my partner, two dogs and one cat. Thank God I am skinny.

100. Everyone loves my Southern sweet tea—except for my dentist.

Every day, I look around and am amazed by how much the world has changed just over the past fifty years.  Granted, change is natural and necessary and without it, there would be stagnation.  Just exactly how much change is necessary is often a thought in my head.  Also, just exactly how and why we change intrigues me.

I work close at hand with the public and every day, I see the changes–both the good and the bad.  Our society has come to take so much for granted.  It sickens me to see the sense of entitlement that permeates the general mindset these days–particularly among the youngest generations.

My grandmother grew up in a rural area of Arkansas.  A descendant of plantation owners who were swindled out of their land, she grew up with the barest of necessities and sometimes, not even that.  She lived through the Great Depression and then, the rationing of World War II.   Her prized possessions were her family’s name and the fine manners she learned from her mother, a true product of the Victorian/Edwardian period.  Like many people of her age and generation, my grandmother could never conceive of wasting anything.  Although she became a woman of considerable means, she was as tight as could be with those means except when anonymously giving to charity.  I am so thankful that she raised me and passed those values on to me.

Look around and you will see the disease of an overly affluent and ungrateful society.  People these days waste more than at any point in history.  Items are often discarded for the silliest of reasons.  Often they are just thrown aside for a newer model or different color when they are in perfectly good condition.  Food goes uneaten for reasons just as unreasonable.  This is a day and age when we can hop into the car and drive four blocks to the grocery store for whatever we can imagine.  Picky, picky people thrive on too many choices.  During the war, you ate what you could get and most likely walked to get it as gasoline was so severely rationed.  You didn’t throw away the leftovers or let them rot in the refrigerator.  You used them for something else until they were gone.

The thing that strikes me the most as having changed, or in some instances, vanished altogether is common courtesy.  Good manners are indeed gone with the wind.  Sometimes I look out my window and all I see is a world of writhing, struggling, heckling, elbowing and pushing.  Everyone is in a hurry and doesn’t care if others are plowed over along the way.   I will be forty years old in a few months.  Thank God for the influence of my Victorian great-grandmother and my grandmother.  When I was a child, children were children.  We did not butt into adult conversations and affairs.  We were not consulted when adults made adult decisions and we did not question them.  We ate what was put in front of us and did what we were told.  We did not shout in public and we did not whine when the restaurant menu didn’t offer what we wanted.  Obviously, we didn’t die from being disciplined in such ways.  Look at most children today and they are the bosses of the household.  Think about how many children you see in restaurants whining and carrying on and jumping up and down in the chairs or running in the aisles picking their noses while the parents just give you a smile and figure the whole world is there to admire their brats and their nonexistent parenting skills.  Had I even thought of pulling such stunts, I would not be here writing today.

Since the 1960’s, there has been a downward spiral in good manners and common courtesy.   Needless to say, there were a great many social restrictions and stiff ideas that needed to go.  Social boundaries need to change with time, but social boundaries are a necessary part of life.  My grandmother had in her dresser many pairs of beautiful white gloves.  I remember hearing about older times when a lady put on hat and gloves when she went into town to do her shopping.  Grandmother was one of those ladies.  Long after hats and gloves fell out of fashion, she never failed to present herself in the best light in public and make sure I did the same.  To this day, my mom will not leave the house for any reason whatsoever without making sure she is properly attired and is wearing makeup.  I cannot for the life of me picture her without her “face.”  She is a very casual person (unless in the dining room), but she gives the utmost care to her public image.

I guess my point in rambling on about these things has to do with the fact that I believe society can be casual and relaxed and be just fine.  However, there is a difference between relaxed or asleep or comatose.  So many of our values and manners have vanished simply because we have fallen asleep at the wheel and subcumbed to apathy.  So many people who complain the loudest about social conventions, norms and manners are the ones who complain the most about how certain other people or their actions annoy or offend them, etc.   Good manners developed as a preventative against these problems.  When people mutually are polite and remain within their own boundaries, others do not become offended.  It seems to just be too much work for people to be mindful of proper manners.  Besides, that would be boring and heaven forbid someone might lose some individuality.  Having to learn manners and to discipline one’s self would probably cause cramps and aneurysms anyway.  Too bad.

I wish that for one week, we could all return to civility.  When I was a child, Grandmother turned off the television when company dropped in.  She wanted to spend time with them.  There was plenty time later for tv.  It was also turned off for dinner.  Family and friends DINED together instead of chomping down in front ot the idiot box before running out the door.  (Come to think of it, often times the tv was never turned on.  We listened to music and talked the night away.)  The phone was not answered at mealtime and adults excused themselves from the table while children asked to be excused.  There was a ritual to becoming an adult.

Maybe we should all try for just one week to spend our time with family and friends in a courteous manner and to focus on the humanity of it all without depending on electronic devices to fill in for what could be conversation, personal growth and good memories.   We should remember to take our time with those things that are important and remember that there is plenty of time to grow up and to grow old.

We should remember that the heart of civilization is civility.

I am a 39 year old man living in Peoria, Illinois with my partner, my pug, and HIV. After thirteen years, I have become a long term survivor. That term still seems a bit strange to me. I lost my only brother to AIDS ten years ago, but I am still here. I do have many times of self mourning and anger that I could let this happen to me. Life often seems so divided between before and after HIV. Before, I was a gifted classical musician with a future. I became positive during a time of great personal upheaval during which I left my wife in order to fully and truthfully live my life as me–a gay man. I put my music on hold to regain my emotional center. It didn’t happen. My life came crashing down around me like so many shards of a shattered chandelier. I was told I would die and I prepared for it.

Strangely enough, in preparing to die, I didn’t realize I was preparing to live. There are often times I tell people I am not HIV positive, but rather that I am HIV enhanced. Of the many aspects of my life that I would change, HIV is not at the top of the list. It has given me the grounding to appreciate the truly important things in life. This was born out of fear, to be sure. I feared never seeing another summer or perhaps not outliving the wonderful new shoes I had just bought. I have faced that fear and put it in its place. Yes, it is still there, but it no longer dominates my mind.

There is no magic formula for surviving HIV. The best answer can only be found within yourself. Some of the best advice I have received was from a friend who told me to be good to myself, to take care, and to CONTINUE LIVING. Although I do pay HIV its respects, I do not allow it to become the focus of my life. If I did that, I would be letting it win already.

Along the way, I suffered the end of a wonderful relationship. I sank into a deep depression that lingered and deepened for years. I felt someting was wrong with who I was. This wasn’t supposed to happen to someone of my background. I was wrong. No one is immune. I had allowed myself to be imprisoned by fear–my own fear of living.

I’ve realized the importance of being good to myself. Spend time alone! That means turning off the TV and reflecting. Face yourself and your fears. This may be a scary at first as facing a stranger in a dark alley. Think of who you really are. Where have you come from and where do you want to go.

HIV is like flood water. It seeps into your life and is everywhere at once. you can either sink or swim. Sometimes it can take a while to learn to swim in these waters. I spent a lot of time alone going for walks, writing, reading and talking to myself. I reach every day to learn something new no matter how trivial it may seem. I take each day as a gift and try to do something with it. It is vital to center yourself emotionally and to find your own place in life’s big picture. For me to do that I had to conquer my fears and it was not easy. I refused to be defined by a virus and by the misconceptions of others. I was a vital person before and I still am. I may not like the thinner face I see in the mirror thanks to some of my medicine, but I am still the same person–only much stronger and, hopefully, wiser.

Be patient. It has taken me thirteen years and a bumpy road to get this far. I have come to realize the importance of the support of others. I have also recognized the importance of giving myself the gift of a portion of each day all to myself. In that time, I think about what is and is not important to me and then I throw out the emotional garbage, like cleaning house. Keep your emotional house clean. It is a time to explore new avenues of thought and expression. It is time to grow. Growth is the essence of life. It has also become a time of spiritual outreach for me. This is something I had abandoned only to reach out again to prepare for death. Now I realize my spiritual reachings better prepared me for living.

A realization that has come to me is that the adversities you face in life are never as important as the manner in which you face them. Be patient and thoughtful. Be self-reflective and good to yourself and others. It is ok to put yourself first when life warrants it. Gain perspective and maintain it–remain centered. Do no let fear become your life’s guide. Even the biggest mountain can be moved–one stone at a time.

Well, here goes.  I thought about this all day and decided that rather than devote myself to any particular cause or subject, I would rather just spit out whatever comes along.  I am going to begin my blog with a couple of reposts from other sites I used previously and we will see where that leads.  Live life out loud.

Hugs