Charlie

Leaving out the "gay," do you have any real friends? Where did you find them? How do you keep them? What is it about them that makes you consider them "friends"? It's hard to believe you can't find more people like them who also happen to be gay. My friends are usually people with whom I share common interests and values, and I have usually met them as a result of having similar backgrounds and experiences, regardless of their sexual orientation.

Much of the land in Palm Springs is owned by the Cahuilla Tribe of Native Americans. We bought our first house there on tribal land, so although we owned the house itself (and could have moved it elsewhere if we had wanted to), we had to lease the land from the tribe and pay a monthly fee for it. Sometimes the tribe agrees to sell the land to the homeowner, but that is usually only when it is a large property with many residences, such as a retirement community or a new development where a deal is struck between the tribe and the developer before anything is built. Many home buyers are uncomfortable with a situation in which they own the house but not the land it sits on, and realtors often try to steer buyers away from homes on tribal land, so those houses are often cheaper to buy than houses on non-leased land. We lived in that situation for 13 years and had no problem with living there or eventually selling the house. [Of course, my spouse's family had owned a house-moving company in Ohio, so he was not daunted by the thought of moving one's house to another property.]

Sigh! I guess it's time for me to put my Phillies cap back in the closet for another year.😕

For Lucky and me, it would definitely be Yankees vs. Phillies.

I didn't make a habit of discussing other escorts with an escort, but I remember one fun afternoon, after having a good time in bed with an escort in New York, he pulled out the pink pages of The Advocate (yeah, this was before the invention of the Internet), and we started discussing which escorts each of us had had experience with. It hadn't occurred to me until then that some escorts had sex with other escorts, for fun as well as professional research. We compared notes about escorts that both of us had seen, or that one of us had seen but the other hadn't but was curious about. I think we spent more time discussing our experiences than we had spent having sex with one another.

Carlos Alcaraz

The fact that he would contact you at all about the subject after all these years means that he is reflecting on the past and wants to put things right in his relationship with you, which obviously still means something to him. I think you have handled the situation well. I have a straight female friend whom I have known since we were in high school; her gay brother was my best friend for many years. We have been alienated and out of contact for several years because of serious political differences, yet when she learned that my spouse has entered hospice care, she called me out of the blue, to offer love and support. Old friendships may change, but they never really die.

As someone whose mother and three other family members lived past 100, and whose spouse has just entered hospice care at 89, this article gave me plenty to think about.

Oops! I had forgotten that.

If you could hear the Cardinals' radio station in Philly, then it certainly should have been easy enough to hear in Little Rock, which is less than half the distance from St. Louis. The Cards had pretty much a monopoly in the South for pro baseball listeners, since there were no teams on the East Coast south of the Washington Senators, who were perpetual losers. Southerners who didn't root for the St. Louis teams probably rooted for the Baltimore Orioles.

Auto-correct isn't always correct: it was Stan MUSIAL.

I remember meeting you at Blue Coyote that night in 2005. Afterwards, I said to Lucky, "Who was that guy? Do you think he will come back?" I think he replied, "Maybe..."

As we grow older, it helps to lose a year now and then.

I thought of them as being on the Mississippi rather than west of it. OK, there is a highway separating Busch Stadium from the riverfront now.

When I was a kid, the team with the best record in the American League simply played the team with the best record in the National League. Sometimes that meant the NY Yankees played the Brooklyn Dodgers or the New York Giants, which was great for fans like me who lived in the NY area, who didn't have to just listen to the games on the radio. Of course, in those days there were no major league teams west of the Mississippi or in Canada. I remember fierce arguments in school between kids who rooted for the Yankees and those who rooted for the Dodgers. I was outraged when the Dodgers betrayed us and left for the glitz of LA, after all those games I had gone to at Ebbets field with my father. I vowed to never root for the Dodgers again, and I never have, even though I have now lived for years in southern California.

Under description it says "I don't smoke." But under "I Am Into" it lists "Smoking." Perhaps he likes guys who smoke.

No info on the ad to indicate when he will be in Philly (those photos certainly weren't taken there!), why or where (no "map me" function available). You will be flying blind on this one.

This thread reminded me that I used to have a dog named Duke, so Lucky gave me a baseball cap that says "Duke's Daddy" on it.

The Phillies win the NL East! I'll have another excuse to wear my old Phillies cap again during the playoffs.

I did not notify my insurance company, since she immediately admitted the accident was her fault, and I got a letter from them two days later that they had accepted the claim against her policy.

Wecome back, Gar1eth. Given the number of gay men on here who are into "man scent" (pits, feet, ass, etc.), a lack of nice-smelling toiletries is hardly a sign that one is not gay. Many straight men probably buy lots of those toiletries to please their girlfriends--in fact, they may even have received them as gifts from girlfriends.

I have been driving for 64 years, but have never been involved in any kind of accident. Last month, I was driving on a local highway when the woman in the car behind me decided she was going to pass me on the right. But she speeded up too quickly to change lanes, and instead smashed into the back of my car. When both of us pulled over, the first words out of her mouth were, "Oh, no! All my other accidents were caused by the other driver. This is the first one that is my fault!" It was a sweet admission, but I wondered how long she would stick with it when push came to shove. Since both cars were still driveable, she insisted that we drive to her home nearby to call our insurance companies, which we did. We sat at her dining room table, where she served us coffee. Then over the phone she described the accident and admitted to her insurance agent (Triple A) that she was completely at fault. I couldn't believe it would be that simple, but the next day I got a call from her insurance agent that an appraiser would be sent to our house to estimate the damages. The appraiser came, photographed the damage, asked where I wanted to have the car repaired, he accepted my choice, and then he went to the auto body shop and arranged everything there. When I brought the car in, they told me they had worked things out with the agent. They even had a connection with a rental agency for a car while mine was in the shop. The car has been there for almost two weeks, and I am getting antsy. Somehow everything seemed a little too easy.

Ben Shelton?

While rummaging through a file cabinet yesterday, I came across a cache of little (4"x6") black and white "physique" magazines from the 1950s with names like Vim and Adonis that I had forgotten I still had. I used to keep them hidden under my bed and jerk off to them at night when I was in my teens. Most of the print is so tiny that I can't read it now without a magnifying glass.

On the "map me" function he is only using the old default location downtown, so don't expect to actually find him there.