Charlie

I think he was educated at a "humble college," since he doesn't know the difference between discrete/discreet or your/you're.

Yes, at the Wellness Park next to the hospital😒

One time I went to the apartment of a first time hire, and he suggested that we start by me sucking his cock. After a couple of minutes of sucking, I thought I heard light snoring, and looked up to see his mouth was open and his eyes were closed. I stopped, got dressed, and woke him to tell him I was leaving. I didn't offer to pay, and he didn't say anything. Your situation was different. The escort was making an effort, but was unable to perform to your expectations. You behaved like a gentleman, and he responded like one. Under those circumstances, I think I would have done what some others have suggested: I would have offered to pay him something for his time and his attempt to perform, and then let him make the next move.

I had never heard of triamcinolone until my doctor recently prescribed triamcinolone cream for some very nasty spider bites, and within three days they were almost undetectable.

I got genital herpes in my early 20s and suffered occasional outbreaks for years, but I haven't had any outbreak for at least a dozen years. Any idea why?

Although Fortaleza is quite a large city, one hardly ever hears anything about it. Years ago, close friends of mine who had joined the Peace Corps were given an assignment there; even though I had always been a whiz in geography, I had to look it up in an atlas when they told me.

I think I got my first one when I was 55.

When I was in my early 30s, I went to Paris to meet up with my American friend Robert, with whom I intended to travel to Cannes. He didn't know much about the gay scene in Paris, so one night I took him to a bar called Le Bronx. There I met a cute young man who invited me to come back to his place, so I decided to leave Robert at the bar and went home with young Bernard, whose home turned out to be a garret on the top floor of a 17th century building on the Seine with a view to the Ile St. Louis; it was like a scene out of La Boheme, and we had delightful romantic sex. Then I went back to our hotel and went to bed. A few hours later, Robert arrived back from Le Bronx; left alone there, he had discovered the dark back room, where he had engaged in a much less romantic scene. In the course of orgiastic group sex, someone had managed to slip his expensive watch off his arm, and when he happened to turn his back to me, I said, "Robert, the back of your pants look like they have been split with a knife"--apparently someone had fucked him without removing his pants! To the end of his life he would mention that experience to me with a nostalgic sigh for our wild youth.

Baked chicken, that is.

I am trying to figure out what the specific attraction would be of getting a message from a Mormon. Is it a fetish?

It is not just the exercise, it is also the companionship, and the sense of having a purpose in taking care of an animal.

Those tables seem to up my life expectancy only an extra year. Aren't there other variables to be considered as well, such as whether one lives alone, has a dependable support system, etc.?

OK, so I will probably just go on splitting the difference between my parents age at death, and prepare to die at 87. [This particular question has arisen because my spouse keeps asking, "How long do you think I will live?" To which my standard answer is "As long as my patience lasts."]

In other words, any reasonably accurate mathematical analysis would require an enormous number of measurements more sophisticated than simply age at death of one's progenitors.

What I found interesting in my case was the patterns for my father and for my mother seemed to go in opposite directions in relation to their parents' lives, therefore I wondered how one would project the pattern for me, if one assumed that there was a mathematical formula for dealing with the correlation between my likely pattern and their actual patterns. For instance, does one add up my progenitors' ages at death and take an average? Does one look for certain medians? Does one factor in my gender? Etc., etc. Does one simply say, "You have already lived longer than your father and you probably won't live as long as your mother." I have usually figured that I would split the age of death for my parents and expect to die at 87.

No one seems to be using math to make a prediction for me.

My father died of leukemia, the only person I know of from that cause in my family. I don't know how heritable it is, but I have always assumed he got it from the chemicals he worked with in his job for many years. His father died from kidney failure and his mother from tuberculosis. You are correct that my father, who was very healthy and athletic all his life, was a surprising outlier statistically in his family, dying only four months after he was diagnosed at 72. My spouse started SS at 62, because his father--a heavy smoker--died of lung cancer, and my spouse also smoked until he was in his early 40s, so he feared he might also die early. He is now been collecting SS for 26 years.

Re:Patterns My parents and grandparents all died of natural causes. My father's father died at 90, his mother at 77, and he died at 72 My mother's father died at 55, her mother at 81, and she died at 102. Given such opposite patterns, what prediction(s) would you make for me? BTW, my pronouns are he, him, his

I don't want to tell her that. I want to figure out a kind way to let her know that she needs to accept that she doesn't play any longer at the level that she once did, and she needs to either deal--if possible--with the vision problems and the deterioration of her reflexes, or seek out other players who have lower expectations of their (and her) playing capabilities. She thinks she should run with the Greyhounds when she is really a Pug. (I have owned both breeds, so I know whereof I speak.) There are other players available who are at her level, but their numbers are mostly limited to the obviously elderly, not the younger men and women with whom she wants to be identified.

Yes, she is getting exercise, but she is not happy. We play at a private tennis club, where the manager sets up the matches. She only plays doubles, and she is frustrated because her team is almost always losing (usually because of her play). She also is not aware that other people are so concerned about her playing ability that people are asking not to be matched with her regularly. I learned from another close friend yesterday that the people who play with her elsewhere at informal matches are also beginning to avoid playing with her. Tennis is an important social outlet for her, and she has always had confidence that she is valued for her competitive proficiency. To learn that people don't want to play with her any longer, because they don't feel she is at their level, would be a crushing blow.

Except that she reads the NYT every day, and if I were explicit enough in my request for advice, she might recognize herself and me.

Visitors can read posts, but I don't think one can become a member without posting.

I consider this conversation site a club, which all of the members have voluntarily joined and introduced themselves to others through their posts. They are also free to leave the club, and the management is able to discipline or eject those who it believes have demonstrated in some way that they do not have the good of the club in mind. Of course, the existing members of a club can usually block the entrance of a new member, while the only requirement for entrance to this club is an expressed interest in some subject that is discussed by the members. Most of the members come from larger communities of interests, and join to discuss one or many of those interests. There are also communities of identities (e.g., gay men), which are helpful in gaining legitimacy for membership, but admission to the club is not not automatically guaranteed or restricted because of real or expressed identity.

I have a good friend who is 73 years old. She is about 5'3" and through a strictly maintained diet she stays very slender. Although she now has artificial hips, she plays tennis almost every day and has played for years. Her luxuriant hair is still a rich dark brown, but if you look carefully, sometimes you will see white roots, She dresses like an athletic young urban businesswoman (she owned a business for a number of years in San Francisco). Her 80 year old husband is a very large and irascible invalid who calls her "Girl." She resents any implication that she is "elderly," and nothing riles her more than when a younger male addresses her as "ma'am." Unfortunately, this passion not to become elderly has obstructed her ability to accept that her eyesight and reflexes are not what they used to be, and the younger people she plays tennis with are quietly refusing to be matched with her regularly. I am at a loss to know how to broach this subject without really upsetting her, especially since her sister is a lesbian psychotherapist who encourages her effort to "stay young."

I have had four family members who passed the century mark--my mother (102), her cousin (100), and two of my father's aunts (101 and 103). I knew all of them well. All were fairly healthy until the end, both physically and mentally, although one of the aunts had mobility problems after falling while getting off an airplane at 99. All were widows, who outlived their husbands for many years. Two of them lived in their own homes until the end, while the other two lived in nursing homes during their last years. My mother chose to move from our home into an assisted living facility when she was 94, not only because she was going blind, but also because she thought she would find it easier to make new friends among those closer to her own age than among young people like us (i.e., in our 60s), who could barely remember World War II, much less World War I. She was somewhat disappointed to discover that most of her co-residents could hardly remember the 1920s as vividly as she did.