THE AM BLOGOSPHERE

Mental Health Uodate

2020-08-31T18:35:09Z

I find myself in the dreaded “now what” phase after Phil’s passing. You would think it would be easier since I had experienced it with Jordan as well. If anything it is worse this time around.

I found myself falling into the same trap and finding an immediate and new thing to pour my energies into and stopped myself twice already. To varying degrees of success.

The hardest in letting go is the letting go without the required “plan b” or in this case “relationship E”.

You want to have what you had. I want the military man fragility mixed with sterness that I had w Jordan and I want the laugh and smile and there is alwys room for desert that I had with Phil. I want the spontaniety of intimacy in sudden unannounced urgency and passion. I miss hugging some good morning and after hugging them good night again.

Part of me feels rudderless or incomplete without someone to share all that is happening around us...

I miss hugs. And waking up to precoffee smile of “i am glad to you are here now go get my coffee.”

There are obstacles. There are certain people in this world and in our lives that no matter the attractiveness, the perfection, the “juicy center” looks like it is there... once tasted it becomes bitter and unattainable. You spit it out... oh that is horrible. Only several years later asking yourself it still looks so good

“why didnt I like it last time? “You foolishly ask.

The aftertaste of regret never seems to linger so it tastes just as bad when you start reaching for it again.

I am not 100% when alone... so the “now what” will continue... God and whatever other forces will take care of that in time. My mother lost my father when she was 56 and she never found someone else. Is that my destiny?

Asking questions like this are foolish... pursuing the fruit that dangles that you know is unpleasant is foolish..

Yet here I am again asking “Now what Drew?”

It kinda sucks

Astoria Oregon

2020-08-19T13:12:54Z

Day One: Columbia Gorge

2020-08-17T12:10:34Z

Eastglades Extension of Memorial Park

2020-08-08T14:09:16Z

The $36 million expansion of Memorial Park will be glorious when it isnt over 100’ outside

Down thirty pounds

2020-08-06T11:42:02Z

And maybe Clean up Next time Before Taking Photos

Bayou Bend Gardens and Mansion

2020-08-06T11:39:14Z

“The Gods do not visit you to remind you of what you already know.” Mary Stewart

2020-08-04T11:54:38Z

Therapy

2020-01-09T14:10:45Z

"So how are we this week Dave?

"I'm fine. I have some wonderfully adventures lately...."

'Tell me about them..."

"My family just got back Disneyland and we got to ride the monorail. Sue laughed so much and there smiles and joy. And just last week, we drove over to Gatlinburg with the inlaws and their family..."

"Dave..."

"They convinced to take the tram up the mountain and ride one of those mountain coasters. It was pretty terrifying. The whole weekend was wonderful. We went go karting and all sorts of things."

"Dave, stop it."

"and we went to the water park, the tube rides were amazing, but the best was the water coaster."

"Dave, we've talked about this..."

"I know.."

"And what do we say?"

"But?"

"Dave?... please we have made so much progress"

"Yes Doctor, I need to stop having a one track mind."

Drewdolph

2019-12-18T14:18:38Z

International Voices

2019-12-14T23:58:53Z

My first holiday program with IVH!

Cozumel

2019-12-07T19:56:13Z

Cozumel day four

Day at Sea

2019-12-06T12:12:28Z

Never been so busy doing nothing :)

Enchantment of the Seas “day two” at sea

Enchantment of the Seas

2019-12-04T18:05:57Z

Waiting

2019-12-03T11:17:41Z

Everybody’s waitin for the man with the bag

Good Mornin

2019-11-23T15:07:59Z

Ladies and Gentlemen....

2019-11-23T15:07:37Z

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury,

this is an open and shut case.

In fact, I would go as far as saying that this whole matter should have been resolved before we had to involve you fine folks. Now the defense has claimed this is all frivolous and vexatious but I fervently disagree and so does my client.

We all know we need to disregard such comments as "Amazing... The pictures say it all" and "We purchased this as a Halloween costume for our cat. Even though he would only wear it for a short time, it was so cute we had to give it 5 stars. See picture of our cutie."

These are inflammatory and only presented from the point of the view of the defense.

Clearly, there is another viewpoint to taken into consideration here. Did Fluffy McStuffins want to be put into a fracture paperplate mane purchased online to amuse his human counterpart? I think we all know the answer is no.

All we really have to do is remember the post that matters. The one that truly explains why humans don't always have the best interest of Fluffy McStuffins in mind.

Posted on December 4th, 2018... we present evidence exhibit B, a review post on KittyPuppyRUs, that reads "Another drunken purchase that came as a surprise in the mail. Love when I treat my future self like this, what a delight! Out of my three cats only one would keep it on long enough to catch a photo. Jada was less than thrilled to say the least, leading to an abrupt ending on a satisfying moment. I'll give it a month before I break this out again to avoid any trauma."

Another drunken purchase indeed. Purchased I might add by defendent after opening her second bottle of wine.

The defense doesn't deny that this post was in direct review of "appliance" that was put on my client. The defense doesn't ignore the fact that the purchase was hideous and was not in my clients best interests. The defense can only admit their client is definitely the guilty party here.

And that ladies and gentlemen is why we are here today.

To find Helen guilty of

"Another drunken purchase."

Banana Choclate Bread

2019-11-03T22:22:40Z

Amazing on so many levels

Banana Chocolate Loaf in the oven for an hour

Update : out of oven cooling.

Make one 8 ½ x 4 ½-inch loaf

1 ¼ cups (5 ½ ounces) all-purpose flour

¼ cup (¾ ounce) natural unsweetened cocoa powder*

¼ cup (¾ ounce) dutch processed cocoa power

½ teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon kosher salt

½ cup (8 tablespoons / 4 ounces) unsalted butter, at room temperature

¾ cup (6 ounces) brown sugar

1 large egg, room temperature

1 large egg yolk, room temperature (freeze white for another use)

4 – 5 brown bananas, frozen, thawed, drained, reserving liquid

1/2 cup full fat sour cream

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/2 cup (about 2 ounces) walnuts or pecans, toasted and coarsely chopped (optional)

½ cup (about 2 ounces) unsweetened coconut (optional)

Preheat the oven to 350° F. Grease a loaf pan with non-stick cooking spray or line pan with parchment paper.

Partially thaw, then peel bananas in a sieve over a bowl to catch liquid. Add liquid to a small saucepan and reduce to ¼ cup. Set aside to cool.

In a medium bowl, sift together flour, cocoa powders, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. Set aside.

In the bowl of a stand mixer using the paddle attachment beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy, 2 to 3 minutes. Add egg and yolk one at a time, incorporating well after each addition. Add dry ingredients and beat gently until just combined. Add bananas, sour cream, vanilla, and cooled banana syrup and mix on low speed to combine. Do not overmix.

Pour batter into prepared loaf pan and spread evenly with a spatula. Bake until a toothpick inserted into the center comes out with a few moist crumbs attached. Start checking after the bread has baked for 1 hour.

Let the loaf rest in the pan for about 10 minutes, run a blunt knife around the edges to loosen, then turn out onto a rack to cool completely.

Note: The bread can be frozen for up to 3 months. After it is completely cooled, wrap it securely in aluminum foil, freezer wrap and place in a freezer bag. Thaw overnight in the refrigerator before serving

https://www.bretstable.com/general-blog/chocolate-banana-bread/

Feelin Good...

2019-11-03T15:26:46Z

She walked through the town like she was royalty.

Nothing put her in a better mood than a nice facial and having her hair done up right. It made her feel fancier than she already was. As the proud woman walked through the neighborhood she quietly noticed some new neighbors getting settled as predictable old ones kept to their ways.

There were whistles and hollerin when she passed the waffle house, and even the pancake house but the bias was only natural. They couldn't help it. When you saw a fine woman walking down the street, you reacted. Who was she to tell them not to share emotional responses? After all, at 130 she knew better than to ignore positive feedback. It kept one young and alive.

Staying vibrant and alive is important in this day and age. You did feel bad when people left the community because things didn't work out.

You felt sorry for Taco house...when they tried to create egg tacos. I mean, who in God's creation wants a taco with egg as the shell. They were evicted pretty quickly. Their value lowered and soon they moved back to Lunch Town where they belonged.

Breakfast wasn't for everyone. You had to work hard to make it here.

Breakfast is an important part of the day. Marketing had assured that. The young kids who moved in didn't always make it. Wendy had tried to move in several times, as had Taco Bell. But she knew where her base was. Deep in the back of Breakfast was a well kept trailer park. They called it the Mom and Pop Trailer Park. Many people had been there for years.

As she walked by the security guard saw her and tipped his hat.

"Morning Ms Jemima, out for your walk?"

"Yes dear heart, how's the wife?"

"She's just fine...thank you."

"Beautiful Mornin isn't it?"

"Yes Mr Kellogg, it is..."

She kept walking into her sunny day as she walked through the edge of town. It was a mixed bag and had a little bit of everything in it. She loved this part of town. Adventurous shops and wonderfully diverse people just on the edge of breakfast.

And while they still had the reputation for still being part of this complete breakfast, anyone would tell you...

"Lunch starts after 12th Street..."

Downtown

2019-10-22T13:53:26Z

Seeing Clearly

2019-10-09T23:11:13Z

He could close his eyes and see the images as if they happened yesterday.

White tennis shoes, knee high socks pushed down to imitate leggings, shorty short gym shorts and the torn pink t shirt. The sound of a needle brushing against the black surface filled the room with that momentary gravel sound of connection.

Music would soon begin and not soon after his feet would move. Sometimes he would try to mimic the dancing he had seen at the movies. No one danced in an empty barn or dance studio like they did in the movies. When you are 15 you don’t really care about that. You embrace it because the music tells you to. The world around you starts to slowly melt away as music with a gyrating beat takes control. A maniac that is footloose and enjoys dirty dancing. Freedom within a measure of noise that some appreciate as modern music. He found solace there.

That would be his inner sanctum.

Until the day a fifth of Jack Daniels possessed his father, it had been where he went to think.

Then the record player flew across the room in slow motion. The plastic square that held the mechanism breaking into hundreds of small random pieces. The record itself shattered against the white painted wall. When the music ended was always when the pain began. Most nights it meant being slapped or berated by a drunk father.

That night so long ago was different. The eyes that met him across a child’s room were no longer his father’s.

Only Alcohol was talking now. Alcohol wanted to know why he was dressed up as a fag? Why couldn't he be interested in football or baseball? Was he even listening?

The first slam of his father’s fist came across his face.

Was he listening now?

Did the faggot know who the man of the house was?

Because it most certainly wasn’t him. His father didn't really use complete words as his memory provided. He had learned to understand Alcohol's speech patterns many years ago. Since his mother’s death, it was necessary to survive. He would learn a second language.

Another hit to his jaw.

He began to taste blood in his mouth.

Did Alcohol finally have his attention.

Why couldn’t he stop being a disappointment?

Why couldn't he be more of what his mother would have wanted?

She would be ashamed of what he was turning into. Abba. Thompson Twins. This is complete bullshit.

Should have never let you go to that movie? Putting ideas in your stupid head is it?

The fist changed directions. Maybe it was important that both sides of his face were bruised at school the next morning.

Uniformity.

The football players would respect him more. Maybe that was it. He smiled a little as he realized the humor of that thought. Mistake.

Oh you think that’s funny?

He suddenly couldn't see out of his left eye. He saw bright red streaks everywhere he looked now. He couldn't see Alcohol now, only hear him.

Not gunna defend yourself hey punk.

Defend yourself.

He had tried all these months to remember his mother had always told him. Never engage .

Alcohol ... when he gets like that, it will only make matters worse. Then there

was the earsplitting roar. The redness in his eyes poured forth into his mind, and the redness was soon replaced with darkness. Darkness always was that soft pillow that

Alcohol wasn’t aware of.

There were places that alcohol couldn’t see or understand. Now his father laid on top of him out cold as he fell into quiet. He could hear his sister screaming for him, but the darkness felt too good to resist.

It was quiet there.

Alcohol couldn't hurt him anymore.

He wondered how simple actions brought back specific memories. Sitting in the little glass booth did allow him to reflect in the silence. Silence only broken by when the older man appears at the window. There is a tear in his eyes. The silver haired man seems older and older every time they visit. Age seems to have accelerated.

From the other side of the glass, the older man smiles in greeting. He reaches to the phone set and brings it to his ear. The older man does as well.

“Hey there kiddo…” he hears through the receiver.

He liked being called kiddo. Much better than faggot, or pussy.

“Good Morning Father…”

The conversation went well. Alcohol was gone from his eyes. It had been gone for four years now. They laughed and smiled.

Part of him wishes that Alcohol had never come to live in their house.

They wouldn’t have to have conversations in small glass booths otherwise.

COOKING LIKE SHIT

2019-10-09T23:08:14Z

Diane’s cooking used to be adequate.

No one ever left a dinner party from her home of 20 years saying “That was the best meatloaf I think I have ever had.” Her dinner guests would eat and compliment. Deep down she knew…her cooking skills needed some help. The spices and preparations she had been taught over the years just were not enough.

Over the years, she went to cooking demonstrations, read cookbooks, and watched Food Network like most women watch soap operas. Rachel Ray and Emeril always having their own special brand of Yummo or Bamm…that just seemed to elevate their cooking. She wanted the glam and sparkle of being a unique voice in the kitchen. She could never find her voice.

Then on a trip to her local supermarket she saw the set of spices. Her inner monologue went crazy.

“Can you believe this shit? Is this shit real? Will this shit really make my food elevate in flavor?”

Even as she drove home muttering under her breath, “Did I just buy some crappy shit?”

That night after preparing her normal porkchop recipe, she added some special shit to her sauce. After letting it simmer for a while, she took a taste. This was some good shit. She put the plate of pork chop with shit spice in front of her husband. After his first bite, his face lit up with delight.

“Diane my dear this is some delicious shit…”

She went back to the grocery shelf and bought every kind of shit she could find. Now when there are dinner guests they are excited about the new shit Diane had been preparing. After all, Diane’s shit was some of the best in town. People don’t tell shit about good shit after all.

After that day, Diane prided herself in coming up with a culinary rainbow of shit to serve her guests.

Anything was possible now.

"This is an actual company with a real website: http://www.specialshit.com"

Cooking w Diane

2017-05-09T12:06:02Z

Diane’s cooking used to be adequate.

Then on a trip to her local supermarket she saw the set of spices. Her inner monologue went crazy.

“Can you believe this shit? Is this shit real? Will this shit really make my food elevate in flavor?”

Even as she drove home muttering under her breath, “Did I just buy some crappy shit?”

“Diane my dear this is some delicious shit…”

After that day, Diane prided herself in coming up with a culinary rainbow of shit to serve her guests.

Anything was possible now.

Time

2017-04-09T14:46:15Z

He stood at the waterfall at the tender age of seven, but inside him was raging anger of someone in their forties.

Father who beat him and Mother who looked the other way. Fist clenching remembrance of the bully of the lane taking pleasure in ripping backpacks and taunting people that were of less stature. The drunk four doors down that hurt people but didnt remember any of it the next day. The world was cruel place. He knew that now.

He stared into the waterfall and for a moment a smile stretched across his face. Higher purpose erased it instantly as he raised his fist to the falling water.

"Kill them all. Eat well my friend."

Black Tentacles began to reach out of the water. No loud roar or announcement. Just hunger and the need to make friend happy. The young child quietly pondered if killing of them would make it better.

The angry manchild turned and watched the black mass of tentacles moved downstream towards the lights of town. Soon they would be diminished by a light or two.

Yes, things would get better.

Vacation in sfo on transit

2017-02-14T06:41:49Z

Announcement on train

"Yes it is shocking that you came above ground.

But only to you dumbass. You have gone three stations to far on a N train. Please walk to church street and go back where you started. You are so lame. Thank you riding Metro."

So today was going spots of the city Jeff wanted to share. We went to totally out of the way diner for breakfast. What a hidden gem! Quick service, delicious food in South San Francisco. Jeff has been the perfect host. He always has interesting stories related to where we are going and where we might be.

Name of restaurant here.

We then went down to the ocean and stopped at Cliffhouse. A stunning bldg stuck on the cliffs above the Sutro Bath ruins. To see them sprinkled with graffiti was kind of sad. You can go search for them online. They have videos that Thomas Edison himself recorded when they were operational.

Announcement in station

"Please go downstairs and wait for 15 minutes for the train back through Vanness station where you should have gone the other direction... dumb ass. Thank for riding Metro."

The gift shop at Cliffhouse had a fantastic collection of bookmark length retro magnets of different landmarks. My fridge has its "hi honey im home gift."

We then drifted our way to the pier and the Ghirardelli mother ship. Evidence of chocolate overload that was more than Houston's Chocolate bar is in previous posts. Sorry chocolate bar yer number two now.

We drifted our way back to the house.

Last evening after meeting a new "David and Robert" at the Eagle beerbust and enjoying dinner w them... they dropped me off at my hosts... with my reading/computer glasses in the back of the car.

We arranged to meet in Castro for their safe return.

Meanwhile i met Rod and Rodger for coffee. They have to be the worlds cutest handsomest couple ever. Soft smiles positive outlook.

They headed to dinner and i had dinner with "the other robert and dave."

Oh my train is here...

Announcement on train

"Now arriving at Van Ness ...where you started your journey home over 30 minutes ago dumb ass."

I am going to try and do better at transit tomorrow I promise.

So now in Civic Center BART...

"Yer in the right station this time... dumb ass... thank you riding Bay Area Transit. Oh you want a picture if my map... now. Hurry up."

Tomorrow I am going to the Grace Cathedral Labyrinth and hopefully the Lands End Labyrinth....and nibble my way.

Making enchiladas for dinner tomorrow night. 😀😁

"This is an outbound dublin train... please do not get on that train dumbass ...it is not going where you need to go."

This trip has been so nonstressed. Adventures and laughter and more laughter.

Thanks for all the David and Bobs in the world.

Announcement in station.

"Please stop writing your blog post and get on the Daly City train unless you want wait 8 more minutes for an SFO train. God how do you get around where you live? Thank for using Bay Area Transit."

"24th and Mission.. dont do it. Stay... thank you. Gawd."

So now just a short ride up the escalator in glen park to catch bus up the hill.

"You are lucky I don't charge you for internet access to the post all this. Please just get off the train already. Now! Go! Leave!"

All right already geeesh.

Announcement in station

"Congratulations you made it Glen Park's BART station please wait 25 minutes for a ride up the big hill. Now please leave the station."

Sigh.

Anniversaries

2016-12-01T03:22:10Z

You would've been at 56 in the morning ...

I'm glad I got to spend some of those years with you I'd like to think we had our happy ending for a while there.

So I'll be wearing red tomorrow because of course you're still sharing your birthday with world AIDS Day.

We all miss you very much .