Date: Sun, 1 Jan 2012 07:58:37 -0500 (EST)
From: dastardlyd3@aol.com
Subject: Seniors United 2: Christmas Day

Seniors United - Christmas Day

Charlie awoke at 10 a.m.  It was the longest he'd slept in a long, long
time, and the latest in probably five years.  He stretched out his arms and
his legs, tossed the covers aside, and slowly stood up, carefully putting
his feet in the correct slippers.  He went to the clothes closet, easily
found his robe, put it on, then headed to the kitchen.

A yawn proceeded him into the kitchen.  First, make coffee, then remember
to look for the newspaper.  As he filled the coffee maker with water, then
coffee, he wondered about the newspaper.  He had called in, arranging the
transfer of the delivery from the house to the apartment, with a five-day
delay, to allow him to get moved in and settled.

At the front door, leaning against the outside was his newspaper.  Attached
to the paper by a rubber band was a holiday greeting card with an envelope
already addressed with the name of the delivery man, and a separate card
with his address and phone number.  A sure pitch for a tip.  Charlie was
getting the newspaper for the first time, hardly a time to reward a history
of good service.

Coming back to the kitchen, Charlie spread out the paper, first looking for
the weather report.  He knew it was cold.  The question of a further storm
is what interested him now.

Here it is: snow flurries into the afternoon.  Snow was predicted daily for
the rest of the week.  He was glad he didn't have to go out to work, though
he would have to do some grocery shopping.

Now, about the potluck this afternoon, what was around that he could use to
make finger food?  In the refrigerator he found a head of celery and some
heavy weight cheese dip.  In the pantry was a small can of chopped black
olives.  Now, he thought, I've got the makings of celery sticks stuffed
with dip and black olives.  That's easy enough to do after I've had my
coffee and read the paper.

Already there were ads in the paper for after-Christmas sales.  He missed
the exchanging of gifts, but it was certainly nice to avoid battling his
way through throngs of avid shoppers, some battling over a particular item
in short supply.  Some seemed to approach the whole business of shopping as
an exercise in the art of war, battle dress a wise choice to enter into the
fray.

 The news was not too interesting.  Yes, the arabs were revolting against
their dictators, but decency on the part of the dictators was missing.  It
seemed that Assad in Syria delighted in killing his own people.  And, the
kings of the three little United Arab monarchies weren't above bringing in
Saudi troops to put down the legitimate aspirations for a participatory
democracy.  Some times you wonder why we Yanks delight in selling so much
armament to these little, two-bit nations which didn't need to defend
themselves, just keep their dictatorships in power.

Oh, well, the newspaper was full of dismal news: too many still out of work
because of the banks' and big stock brokerages' games with worthless
mortgages.  No doubt we'll continue to let them play stupid games while
insuring them against loss.  We did it before, we'll do it again.  No car
insurer would let a habitual drunk driver have insurance.  Why do we
continue to underwrite the financial industry's ridiculous games?

Here's another CEO getting a big year-end bonus while the corporation lost
money for the year!

Charlie was getting angry reading the newspaper's financial section.  He
turned to the sports section and found little of interest.
Multi-millionaire basketball players were trying to take over their teams
and bankrupt them.  I ....ah.  Charlie put down the newspaper.

Toast was necessary.  He ate two slices.  Then he made the dip, a very
simple task, washed and cut the celery ribs into two-inch pieces, mixed the
olives with the dip, spread it thickly on the celery, covered the plate it
with Saran wrap, put the plate in the refrigerator, and he was done with
his contribution for the pot-luck.

He took his coffee mug into the bathroom, where he stripped off his robe,
looked at his almost flat stomach, and resolved to keep exercising even in
this snowy Winter.  A few strokes with his electric razor, and his face was
presentable.  He wished he could grow a decent looking mustache, but there
weren't enough whiskers in the right places.

One thing he liked immediately about living in the apartment was that when
you turn on the hot water, it is hot.  No waiting for the water to turn
slowly from cold to hot.  He carefully wet his head, applied shampoo,
massaged it in, rinsed, and was ready to cleanse his body.  The
dermatologist had told him he needn't use soap to wash off dried sweat.
Running water would do that.  Soap dried out the skin too much for
him. Just soap the portions that were dirty.  He had to use a moisturizing
lotion when he got out of the shower .  He brushed his thinning hair, took
his robe into his closet to hang it up.  Then, what to wear?

Obviously, the style of the clothing would be casual.  He'd just put on a
knitted short-sleeve shirt, some khakis, and a pair of comfortable shoes.

Charlie was surprised when he finished dressing.  It was a bit before 2
p.m., time to go to the potluck.  He collected his celery sticks from the
refrigerator, expecting to go to Rose and Yolanda's apartment.  Instead, he
found tables and chairs set up in the big open space outside their door.
People had already placed their contributions on a buffet table.  He could
smell the roast beefs and hams in their kitchen, ready to come out to the
buffet table.

He spotted Henry at a table with two other men.  Henry waved him over and
said, "I've saved us seats here.  I'd like you to meet John and Sam, who
live on the next floor up."  Charlie greeted them both, shook hands, then
sat down beside Henry.  A conversation started up.

John asked him, "Have you lived in the city before?  Do you know your way
around?  We are happy to show you the city."

"Thanks," Charlie replied, "but I've lived in a different part of the city
for several years, and know my way around.  After my partner died, I moved
from the big house we had.  I like the apartment, and I like the
friendliness I've found in this building.  Is it like this in all the
Seniors United complex?'

"No, I don't think it is," Sam interjected.  "This building is mainly gays
and lesbians, and we've become friends, almost family.  Most of us don't
have any other family, except maybe those with partners as wonderful as
John."  John blushed, started to speak when Yolanda flitted by, announcing
that the food was on the buffet table, time to eat.

Henry, Sam and John insisted Charlie go first, so he picked up a heavy
plastic plate at the start of the spread, and looked over the assembled
food.  His celery sticks led the finger food display.  He took one.  He
passed up the little slices of bread with cheese or anchovies.  He never
did like anchovies.  Big slices of roast and ham were next, then
vegetables.  Finally, dessert, but he'd come back for that.  At the end was
a bowl with a little sign requesting diners to contribute $2. each to pay
for the meat.  Charlie dropped a five dollar bill into the bowl, noticing
the bills seemed to be mostly fives.

On a separate table were a pitcher of iced tea, a big coffee maker, a tea
pot carefully kept warm under a tea cozy, and glasses and cups.  He poured
himself a cup of black coffee and headed to their table.  Henry, Sam and
John soon followed him.  Henry asked the other men to join hands, and he
led a short prayer of thanksgiving for the home and family they now had.

All pitched into the food.  It was excellent.  Rose finally came out of her
apartment with the last meat contribution, and all applauded.  They knew
she would provide an excellent dinner, she always did.  Yolanda flitted by,
making sure everyone had met his or her table mates, and they had enough
food.

After dinner, everyone stayed at his or her table, enjoying the coffee or
iced tea, and talking with the neighbors.  Rose asked for some help and
several men followed her into her apartment.  Soon her piano rolled out,
she sat down, and declared, "It's always time for some more singing.  Name
your favorite Christmas carol."  People called out the names and the
singing began.

After a while, the singing slacked off.  Yolanda called out, "Don't leave
these desserts uneaten," and people chose their favorites, took some more
beverages, and settled down to do justice to their choices.  "Don't forget
to take your contribution home.  Thank you all for coming."  Another round
of applause, the piano was rolled back into the apartment, and some of the
guests started to leave.

Henry asked Charlie, "Do you have to go some place?  Would you like to come
back to my apartment?"  Charlie had no place to go, and wanted to keep the
pleasure of Henry's company.  He took his celery plate, which was now
empty, and followed Henry to his apartment down the hall.

"Would you like some more coffee, a soda, water?" Henry asked Charlie.

Charlie said he was full, almost stuffed.  Instead, he wanted to get to
know Henry.  So, Henry took his empty plate, put it on the kitchen table,
then led Charlie to the sofa in the living room.  They sat, and Henry moved
close to Charlie, taking his hand, and saying, "Well, I was born,
which you can surmise from my presence here.  I grew up in a happy family,
but we kept our secrets to ourselves.  When I finished high school, there
was no money for college, so I went to work in a warehouse, tossing around
heavy boxes.  I soon developed a very muscular body, not a gym body, just
well-developed muscles for work.

"I met a man at the warehouse who was a supervisor, about ten years older
than I.  I knew I was gay, and he had spread the word at work that he was
also.  One day, when we had been working on some project, he asked if I
liked to swim.  I said, `Yes.  Very much."

"His name was Al.  Al invited me to go swimming at the lake west of town.
I immediately accepted, and we arranged to meet, then go to the lake on our
day off.  He told me to just bring my swim suit and a towel.  He would
bring the sun screen.

"So, we met, talked a lot about ourselves and our hopes.  He was the first
person to whom I confessed I am gay, or thought I was."  Charlie was tired
of trying to look at Henry without staring, so he rested his head on
Henry's shoulder.  Henry put his arm around Charlie and continued to talk.

Henry told how they had begun to swim at the lake whenever they could get
together.  Al had a car, so that solved transportation.  Henry's
parents somehow learned he was gay, and kicked him out of their home,
though they had needed his rent and food money to make ends meet.  Al
invited Henry to live with him, which Henry quickly accepted.

"One night," Henry continued, "Al asked me what I'd like to do with my
life.  I told him I had always wanted to teach, but I couldn't afford to go
to college.  He told me about scholarships and grants available to poor
students.  Then he encouraged me to apply for as many as I could, and we
would find a way to pay my other expenses.  What he had in mind was to
support me while I went to college, and for me to find part-time work to
pay my other expenses.  I did, and six years later I had my teaching
certificate. The first school system I applied to for work accepted me.  I
taught there until I retired.  Al was older.  He retired before I did.  We
planned a Summer trip to Europe, my first.  He had not been feeling well
for a while, and finally agreed to go to a doctor.  The doctor told him his
body was just giving out, bad heart, bad lungs from smoking cigarettes, bad
pancreas from too many sweets which made him a diabetic.

"Al gave up then.  I tried to help him adopt a healthy life style, but it
was too late for him.  The body was shot.  He went down hill rapidly.  He
died before we could make that trip.  Shortly thereafter, I retired and
moved into this building in the United Seniors complex.  I've never been
sorry a day since I moved in."

Henry paused for the first time, and said, "Well, there's my autobiography,
first time I ever told it all to anyone.  Now, tell me about you."  Charlie
sat up, looked Henry in the eye, and said,

"I've not had a very interesting life.  I grew up an only child.  My
parents tried, but they didn't know much about loving me.  They taught me
to keep my room clean, keep my shoes shined, hair brushed, and neatly,
modestly dressed.  Dad was a bookkeeper, Mom a housewife.  There was always
plenty of food on the table.  My grandparents lived on the other side of
the country, so I seldom saw them, nor did I have much contact with my sole
uncle and my aunt.  I believe I was the unplanned-for child who surprised a
middle-aged couple.  I was cared for, but there wasn't much demonstrated
love.

"My parents liked to watch television for the news, have dinner, then watch
some more television.  They didn't talk much to one another, or to me.
After high school I got a job in a department store.  I worked there all my
working life.  I met Ralph there about the time my parents died.  We got
together and stayed together until he died.  See, I really am very
uninteresting."

Henry had been leaning against Charlie while he spoke.  Charlie was aware
that Henry had yawned a few times, apologized, then closed his eyes.  As
Charlie finished, Henry snored.  He was sound asleep.  `I didn't know I was
that uninteresting,' thought Charlie.

With the snore, Henry awoke, and apologized, "Gee.  I'm sorry.  I didn't
mean to be so rude.  I'm really awfully tired.  I didn't get to sleep until
almost 2 a.m. this morning, and awoke at my usual 6 a.m."

"Here, let me help you up.  You need a nap, and I probably will want one,
too," Charlie added.  "Thanks for introducing me to the Seniors
United family, to taking me to church, and for being so kind to me.  I'll
take my plate and go home.  You can have your nap.  I will keep in touch."
Charlie returned to his apartment, put the plate on the kitchen counter to
be washed, then went to his bedroom, stripped down to his underwear, laid
down on top of the covers and pulled a quilt over his body.  It was a good
time for a nap.  In seconds he was asleep.

_____________________________________________________________

TO THE READER;

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dastardlyd3@aol.com