Sunday Drive: If You Hadn't Been There

I'm sure all my truckbuddies will join in my condolences to Dolly - a longtime supporter of the gay community - who lost her huband Carl this week after 60 years of marriage.  What a blessing.

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Happy New Year 2025

M.P. and I are 2 down and 2 to go:  we had all the kids and kiddos over for Yule Dinner on Sunday the 22nd, and then after we recuperated from that feast, had our own Christmas Dinner on Sunday the 29th - which about did us in.  Now we are hoping to have a New Year's dinner tomorrow, and next week a Kings Day dinner if we are able.  No pics yet because M.P.'s so-called smart phone is on strike; maybe next week I'll have some photos to blog.

---  ooo  000  ooo  ---

The quiet days at the end of the year have always been a time of retreat and reflection for me.  This year, it seems the end of an era, not just another year -- for reasons obvious to all my truckbuddies, I'm sure.  This is the calm before the storm.

The world has been in a parlous state all my adult life, what with wars and rumors of wars, crisis upon crisis, rebellion here, revolt there, and no end of foolishness among the peoples and leaders of the world.  And yet, at some points there has been greater hope for the future than seems apparent just now.

Here at the beginning of my eighth decade, it is poignant to look back at myself at the dawn of manhood, and remember what it felt like, what I thought, what I hoped.  How strange to say that I can even show you what I looked like fifty years ago:  is that callow fellow really Me?

All grown up and still unkissed:  Russ in Jackson Square, New Orleans, 1974

It would have broken my heart to know then the cruel twists and turns that lay ahead in the road of life.  But they say that suffering develops faith and character.  If nothing else, it certainly turns your hair gray.

Well, leaving out all the boring details, of no interest to anyone but me - and even I'm tired of hearing the story - I have somehow lived through many years of light and shadow, joys and sorrows, to be a very old man.  Human life is always a mixed bag - win, lose, or draw, you have to play the hand you are dealt, and do the best you can.  Have fun, but don't be a prick.  Do your part, don't leave a mess, and mind your own damn business.

That's it.  That's the wisdom of the world, in a nutshell.  Take it or leave it.  There are other, spiritual truths worth knowing as well, but you have to find those on your own.

When I was a kid, I used to think it would be a fine thing one day to be old and wise.  Well, in a way it is somewhat satisfying to finally have seen through the world and all its illusions - to see things and people as they really are, not just what you imagine them to be.  

But at this late age, it doesn't do you much good.  Your body and your finances (unless you are exceptionally lucky) don't allow you to do much with all that wisdom.  And nobody wants to hear what an old man has to say.  So you just keep it to yourself, mainly.  

There are many things I've wanted to say these last few years about recent developments in the world and in this country in particular.  But what good would it do?  When the herd decides to stampede, you can risk your neck trying to stop them, or you can stay out of the way and just let them run on till they get tired of running.  Thank God it's not my job to fix the world.  Even He has his hands full with that chore, I suppose.

When you have lived into old age, you can feel the rhythm of time passing:  a river always flowing, a cycle of stars always revolving above our heads and the earth rotating under our feet.  Empires rise and fall; war alternates with peace; wisdom and folly, love and hate, poverty and plenty, life and death - the wheel keeps on turning, endlessly, regardless of our petty wants here on this little rock in the vast depth of the cosmos.  

A rather frightening picture, if we are not in sync with the Love that moves the sun and other stars, as Dante put it.  And that Love is closer than breathing, nearer than hands and feet - if you are willing to believe.  

We can't be sure what 2025 holds in store for us; but no matter what comes or goes, we can each be true to the goodness within us, and do small things with great love.  So here's wishing all my truckbuddies health, wealth, and happiness in the New Year and in all the years to come.  God bless.

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Today's Quote: Faith and Love

Life is both faith and love. Without faith, love is only one dimensional and incomplete. Faith helps you to overlook other people's shortcomings, and love them as they are. If you ask too much of any relationship, you can't help but be disappointed. But if you ask nothing, you can't be hurt or disappointed.

--Debbie Reynolds, 1964

What I Say:  There is much wisdom in what Debbie says here.  She ought to know:  she was married three times, and all of her marriages ended disastrously.  When asked about her husbands in later years, she would smile charmingly and say, "I have no taste in men."  Pretty much the same thing happened to Doris Day.  You'd think these two women, both beautiful, talented, and vivacious, admired by millions, would have easily found adoring husbands to love, honor, and cherish them.  But no -- Love can make fools of us all, whether pretty and popular, or not.

It's only the last sentence in Debbie's statement that I take issue with.  In the broadest sense, she is right, I have come to find out:  real love is about what you give to the other, not what you get.  But of course romantic love is only worth having if it is a two-way street.  There has to be a fundamental compatibility of wants and wishes, and a congruence of values, of how you live your lives together.  There must be give and take on both sides, so both parties get their needs met most of the time and both are happy with the relationship.  Get it all figured out before you commit yourselves, not after.

If  you can't work it out, compromise, adjust -- then let it go and just move on.  I learned this lesson at great cost.  Holding on will only make you crazy, and maybe kill you.  It's not worth it, no matter how great the romance.  Something better will come along in time, but first you have to get out of the hole of despair and pull yourself back together.  Trust me, brother -- when the ship of love sinks, save yourself.  There's a time to love, and a time to just let go. 

Real love doesn't hurt you, it helps you.

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Sunday Drive: Over the Rainbow

 -- where bluebirds fly,

dreams come true, and

what was lost is found.

Comet.

Planet.

The pictures show us as we were nearly twenty years after we were young lovers.  By that time, we both had been through great suffering of mind or body, and we both had loved and buried other husbands.

Our love was joyful; our parting was painful in the extreme.  But he had to be true to his nature, and I to mine.  He loved to be on the road, I loved to be at home; it just couldn't work.  So we lived the lives we needed to live, and took the consequences.  We both were right, we both were wrong.  Passionate love is a sweet and bitter cup.

But perhaps it simply had to be that way, to teach us both the lessons we needed to learn.  (And the lesson is repeated until it is learned.)

Yet somehow, by different long and winding orbits, we have come face to face again, across the worlds.  Loved.  Understood.  Forgiven.  At peace with each other, and more besides.  A knowing:  don't ask me to explain.

I've learned a great deal in just the last two weeks, which I couldn't begin to describe here on the Blue Truck - about myself, about Karl, about love and life and other people too.  Believe me when I tell you, it's been a completely unexpected, unsought epiphany - a strange and wonderful gift.  

In the only grammar and vocabulary I know, grace has happened, and made a change in me:  I once was blind, but now I see.  Probably nothing you would notice on the outside, but within, an ineffable healing that words can hardly express.  Some kind of enlightenment.  And quiet happiness.

So I'm just going to sit with it now and ponder these things, rejoicing.  Alleluia.  

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Epiphany 2023: Planet and Comet

Planet and Comet

   for Karl, 1966-2020

I was at the noon of life, you were in midmorning

That June in February when we kissed and fell

In love, too soon for sense, too strong for caution.

But oh, how lovely did the moon smile down on us!

We seemed to dance among the stars, they seemed to reel 

About our heads, and in your eyes I saw reflected

All my own forever dreams; felt your heartbeat thrum

In tune with mine, a summer song – too soon to end.

I watched for your return a long and lonely while.

In time, forsaken passion mellows into quietude

As green leaves turn to gold and rust

And flames die down to embers,

Souvenirs of light and heat and joy

When graybeards huddle by the hearth,

Remembering summer's caressing kiss,

The south wind’s warm embrace.

Comparisons are odious, of course.

We each must walk an unmarked path

Through barren wastes or fields of gold

To gather thorns and roses where we may

And water them with memories.

Who knows but that our found and lost

Are lessons learned to pave the way

For other joys to come: salt water into wine.

The stars swing on, thirty years have gone:

Time out of mind.  I can hardly comprehend, 

Cannot count that high.  It seems absurd,

So many steady rounds about the sun.

Never thought that I would end up here

At this cold, far place, an old man now,

So long removed from dancing days,

Leaning on a cane, shuffling through snow.

And still the music of the spheres plays faintly on

I hear it now and then behind the winter wind . . .

But suddenly you’re here, O my beloved wanderer—

Why this epiphany so late?  Why did we have to wait?

Never mind.  Oh, what a strange, unlooked-for joy!

For one sweet moment to dance the dance again,

To feel again – and know – your summer warmth,

The gravity of your embrace:  a love that knows no end.

Copyright 2023 by Russ Manley.  All rights reserved.

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With special thanks to my truckbuddy Frank, who unwittingly gave me the springboard for this poem.

Published on the day of the Full Wolf Moon.

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Answer Desk: What We Had

Question:  So like, what was the BFD about all that?  Seems like nothing much happened.  Can't you even post a pic of the two of you together?

Answer:  This is what we had and lost:

 

Christian and Olli were characters in a German soap opera.  

We looked nothing like them, but the passion was the same.

That kind of love is the divine flame at its brightest and hottest.

It burns deep.  It cuts to the quick.  It penetrates and glorifies.

It melds and molds and fuses two hearts into one.  

It's more than physical, more than thought

More than words and bodies

More than touching 

More than feeling

It's knowing

It's home

To lose your other half is mortal agony.

If you survive, if blood and breath remain, then

You can live again, love again, laugh again.

But you will sometimes cry again.

Love will not let you go.

Fighting, yelling, kissing, crying, fucking, facing off:

"Why'd it have to be you?" I said through my tears.

"Why'd it have to be you?" he replied through his.

But I'm okay today. I've reflected and processed a lot in the past week. Realized how far I've come, and how much stronger I am now.  

And we've - how can I say this without sounding sappy? - well, I'll just say I know now that he's finally okay, and it's okay between us. I don't have to keep him locked out of my heart anymore, no longer have to bar the doors against his approach.  The barb wire's down.

What's past is done, gone, forgiven on both sides.  The war's over: peace has come.  The hurt is gone.  What was lost is found.

We're good again.  Here again.

Love is stronger than death.

And that's a good way to start the new year: with a clear head, quiet heart, and gratitude for this happy life M.P. and I share.  It's all good.

New Year's blessings and best wishes to all my truckbuddies.

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In Memoriam: The Dance

My first husband in 2009, the last time I heard from him.
By chance, I just recently learned that he died in 2020, age 54.
By all accounts, he loved his life and was much loved.

Thirty Years Ago

We Danced.

Planet & Comet

Took a Big Chance.

Big Love.  Big Loss.  

Big Hurt -- Long Time.

Hard Lesson.

All Forgiven.   

Bless you, Babe.  

Roll on through Heaven.

Russ in 2009.
Everybody's got to leave the darkness sometime.

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Survival of the Fabulous

Who am I?  Why am I?  All of us gay guys have pondered those questions intently at some time or other.  Canadian filmmaker Bryce Michael Sage queries the scientists for answers in this snappy, entertaining 2013 documentary, which I somehow missed seeing until just now.  It's well worth watching, even though there is still no single answer, only educated guesses.

P. S. - Of course, a lot of the suggested answers in this film we have already heard about long ago.  But I did get to thinking - is there any tree that produces blooms, but not fruit, in its natural state - that is, untinkered-with by botanists and commercial growers?  I consulted M. P., who in addition to being Chef Supreme is also Head Gardener here, and has the green-thumb gene your Head Trucker missed out on.  He informs me that he knows of two such naturally non-fruit-bearing trees:  dogwoods and redbuds.  

Both of them such beautiful things when in bloom!  Fabulous.  I myself think that there doesn't necessarily have to be a concrete reason for beauty in the world - some things just are what they are, you know?  Not everything beautiful is particularly useful, but then - does it have to be?

The evanescent trace of a shooting star - the golden glow of a full moon rising - the susurration of a gentle rain - the smell of new-mown grass - the warmth of a handclasp - the touch of a lover's lips - the scientists may scribble and scratch until doomsday parsing the nature of such things, but what would be gained?  It is enough that Beauty exists, and gladdens the hearts of men wherever they find it.  

For beauty is one of the things that make us human.  The animals cannot conceive it - the plants do not need it.  No, the ineffable joy of the beautiful belongs to mankind alone: the great gift of the Love that moves the stars.  And that beauty is in us, too - if we nurture it.  Beauty, truth, and goodness - if you want a trinity to adore, that is a fine place to begin.

One more thing - the evolutionary theory about the usefulness of the "gay uncle" is very clever - but note that it is not a proven fact, just a happy thought.  Some of us have no nephews or nieces, you know.

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Is My Dad in Heaven?

Pope Francis answers a little boy's question.

 

God is Love:  this is the Christian faith.  See Romans 8:35-39. 

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Sunday Drive: Love Divine, All Loves Excelling

The Fifth Sunday in Lent

It does my Episcopal heart good to see them rockin' the bells and smells at Trinity Church, Wall Street, recorded on February 26th of this year.  I'm not an Anglo-Catholic, or even particularly High Church - but a little festivity now and then is a joyful thing.

 

BONUS:  The late Archbishop Tutu gave a wonderful sermon there in 2006, on the theme of God's love, which I hope will give you a spiritual blessing today. It did for me. You might want to turn up the sound a little; and if need be, you can turn on captioning by clicking the CC button at the bottom of the YouTube screen.

 

Before I formed thee in the belly, I knew thee . . .

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Sunday Drive: Peace Prayer

I am posting Sunday Drive a day early this week, in hopes of encouraging all my truckbuddies and visitors to take a little time out from the usual weekend routine to reflect on just what we are called to be and do in this bewildering life.

Today is All Souls' Day, known in the Episcopal Church as the Commemoration of All Faithful Departed, a twin feast of All Saints' Day. As Forward Movement puts it, "This is a good time to remember the unspectacular children of God: those whose Christian witness may have been weak or faltering, but who are still very dear and important to God and to us."

It is a good time to remember and give thanks for all those "little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love," done by those we love but see no longer, that have fostered, comforted, encouraged, and sustained us throughout our lives.

It is also a good time to recall, as someone has said, that "Though we cannot all do great things, we can all do small things with great love."  And that makes all the difference, doesn't it?

By sheer coincidence, this weekend marks ten years of M.P.'s residence in this little bungalow, and twelve years of our friendship, which has given us both abundant occasions to practice those not-so-small things - along with forgiveness and patient forbearance, as need may be - and for which we are very thankful.

Your weak and faltering Head Trucker has long been fond of the Prayer for Peace, so appropriate for the present age, which beautifully summarizes the actions of love and grace, and recalls to my forgetful mind my duties in this life.  Here it is movingly sung by John Michael Talbot:

Sunday Drive: This Magic Moment

One never forgets the first rosy dawn of love - even after fifty years.

An Epigraph for the New Year

The world is in a sorry state, and does not seem likely to improve itself anytime soon. The American government is shut down, and the British government is tearing itself apart. This does not bode well for the peace or security of the human race, but what can anyone do about it? The population in both countries seems hopelessly polarized, and the center cannot hold, it seems, for much longer. The dawn of the new year is clouded with uncertainty, and who knows what sort of future will come lurching out of the mists and gloom?

I have no answers. All I know is that as long as we have strength and hope, we should do what we can to make our own corner of the world sane and safe, and that begins with loving our neighbors - or if that is too much to ask, then loving our nearest and dearest - whom we are most likely to take for granted. It is good sometimes to stop and consider the true meaning of the much-parodied, much-derided phrase "Charity begins at home."

While we cannot choose our families, we can choose our friends - and regardless of how many or few of either there are in our life at any given time, the thing that really matters, beyond all social and political questions, is how we treat one another. Life is a passing thing - but love endures and propagates itself in countless untold ways down the years, from heart to heart and from soul to soul, parent to child and friend to friend.

So in this uncertain world, let us love while we can and whom we can, for we are all of us merely creatures of a day.  We all know what we would like to get from this transitory life - but what do we have to give?

The dear old Queen, God bless her, said something in one of her recent Christmas messages that I keep reflecting upon. I offer it here to my truckbuddies as an epigraph for the new year before us:

Not all of us can do great things; but we can do small things with great love.

A Revolution of Tenderness

Embed from Getty Images

Pope Francis delivered a surprise TED talk this week, recorded at the Vatican, which your Head Trucker finds very appropriate to this moment in history, when all the world seems consumed by arrogance, ignorance, and deadly hatred.   Excerpt:

How wonderful would it be if the growth of scientific and technological innovation would come along with more equality and social inclusion. How wonderful would it be, while we discover faraway planets, to rediscover the needs of the brothers and sisters orbiting around us. How wonderful would it be if solidarity, this beautiful and, at times, inconvenient word, were not simply reduced to social work, and became, instead, the default attitude in political, economic and scientific choices, as well as in the relationships among individuals, peoples and countries. Only by educating people to a true solidarity will we be able to overcome the "culture of waste," which doesn't concern only food and goods but, first and foremost, the people who are cast aside by our techno-economic systems which, without even realizing it, are now putting products at their core, instead of people.

Solidarity is a term that many wish to erase from the dictionary. Solidarity, however, is not an automatic mechanism. It cannot be programmed or controlled. It is a free response born from the heart of each and everyone. Yes, a free response! When one realizes that life, even in the middle of so many contradictions, is a gift, that love is the source and the meaning of life, how can they withhold their urge to do good to another fellow being? . . .

The story of the Good Samaritan is the story of today’s humanity. People's paths are riddled with suffering, as everything is centered around money, and things, instead of people. And often there is this habit, by people who call themselves "respectable," of not taking care of the others, thus leaving behind thousands of human beings, or entire populations, on the side of the road. Fortunately, there are also those who are creating a new world by taking care of the other, even out of their own pockets. Mother Teresa actually said: "One cannot love, unless it is at their own expense."

We have so much to do, and we must do it together. But how can we do that with all the evil we breathe every day? Thank God, no system can nullify our desire to open up to the good, to compassion and to our capacity to react against evil, all of which stem from deep within our hearts. Now you might tell me, "Sure, these are beautiful words, but I am not the Good Samaritan, nor Mother Teresa of Calcutta." On the contrary: we are precious, each and every one of us. Each and every one of us is irreplaceable in the eyes of God. Through the darkness of today's conflicts, each and every one of us can become a bright candle, a reminder that light will overcome darkness, and never the other way around. . . .

The third message I would like to share today is, indeed, about revolution: the revolution of tenderness. And what is tenderness? It is the love that comes close and becomes real. It is a movement that starts from our heart and reaches the eyes, the ears and the hands. Tenderness means to use our eyes to see the other, our ears to hear the other, to listen to the children, the poor, those who are afraid of the future. To listen also to the silent cry of our common home, of our sick and polluted earth. Tenderness means to use our hands and our heart to comfort the other, to take care of those in need.

Tenderness is the language of the young children, of those who need the other. A child’s love for mom and dad grows through their touch, their gaze, their voice, their tenderness. I like when I hear parents talk to their babies, adapting to the little child, sharing the same level of communication. This is tenderness: being on the same level as the other. God himself descended into Jesus to be on our level. This is the same path the Good Samaritan took. This is the path that Jesus himself took. He lowered himself, he lived his entire human existence practicing the real, concrete language of love.

Yes, tenderness is the path of choice for the strongest, most courageous men and women. Tenderness is not weakness; it is fortitude. It is the path of solidarity, the path of humility. Please, allow me to say it loud and clear: the more powerful you are, the more your actions will have an impact on people, the more responsible you are to act humbly. If you don’t, your power will ruin you, and you will ruin the other. There is a saying in Argentina: "Power is like drinking gin on an empty stomach." You feel dizzy, you get drunk, you lose your balance, and you will end up hurting yourself and those around you, if you don’t connect your power with humility and tenderness. Through humility and concrete love, on the other hand, power – the highest, the strongest one – becomes a service, a force for good.

Full text here.



Click the "CC" button at the bottom of the video to see English subtitles.

The Queen's Christmas Broadcast, 2016

Her Majesty the Queen, who turned 90 this year and has been on the throne for 64 years, broadcast her annual Christmas message to the nation and the Commonwealth yesterday, continuing a tradition begun by her grandfather, King George V, in 1932.

Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.

The 55th Valentine

After being a couple for 54 years, Jack Evans and George Harris were the first gay couple to wed in Dallas County after the Supreme Court's landmark Obergefell ruling last June.  Now Necco, the makers of the candy hearts we all know and love, are featuring the couple in a timely advertisement:



Sweet, huh?

So This Is Christmas 2015

Our little hacienda, all lit up for Christmas.

Well, fellas, it's been a momentous year in many ways, not the least of which is the legalization of marriage for all across this U. S. of A. - so I picked this song to express what's in my heart and send it out to all of my truckbuddies with good wishes for a very merry Christmas.

Here where I live, we are especially grateful for all our blessings, as last night M.P. in his little Hyundai was hit by a truck full of giggling girls doing 60 across an intersection. But thanks be to God, they only clipped his front fender instead of ramming him broadside, so he was completely unhurt. We'll be carless until next week, but it could have been so much worse, you know? So give those you love an extra hug today, fellas, and be careful out there.

L-O-V-E

It's been a week since the historic ruling that made same-sex marriage the law of the land, and Freedom to Marry offers this celebratory rendition of a classic tune:




And one more time - here's that fabulous moment again:

Waitin' for the Weekend

Your Head Trucker sends this one out with a special dedication to all the assoholic, Bible-banging hypocrites and homophobes in Alabama and all around the country and the globe: suck it.

Maya Angelou: Love Liberates

Your Head Trucker can add nothing to the many tributes that have been paid this week to the memory of the remarkable Maya Angelou, but perhaps you all will enjoy this short clip of her speaking about a favorite subject: