Spring Awakening

As a child growing up in Nebraska, the end of March brought about the final melting of winters white blanket and the annual birth of the cottonwood trees.  Wildlife emerged from it's slumber to begin a new mating season.  Everything that was dead was suddenly green with life.  Aside from the merriment which accompanied the spring came the knowledge that when the sky turned green and began to boil, you were to take cover immediately.   Yes, the final days of March always brought the beginning of a new storm season to what has come to be known as "Tornado Alley".  This area consists of Texas, part of Lousiana, Oklahoma, Western Arkansas and Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska. Western Iowa and South Dakota.

If you went to school in this part of the country, you no doubt had periodic tornado drills.  Your teacher would usher you into a hallway on the first floor or another area with the least amount of glass.  If you were really lucky,  your class would be taken to the locker room which was usually in a basement level.  In any case, we hardly ever took these drills seriously because we were young and invincible.  In the years before Columbine, school was a safe place.  Nothing life threatening ever happened there.  Lucky for us, this theory was never tested.  We had a few close calls, but we always rose from our crouched-head covered position to find that our friends were still here, the roof was still intact and the walls remained standing.  Not so the case Monday afternoon in Moore, Oklahoma when an F5 tornado, which some say was almost 2 miles wide, tore through the heart of the Oklahoma City suburb leave death and devastation in it's wake.  You may say this storm "hit very close to home" as I attended Graduate School at the University of Oklahoma in Norman.  Just south of the Oklahoma City line, Moore begins.  And, just at the the southern border of Moore, Norman begins.

Oklahomans take pride in their tough unshakable ability to weather even the toughest of conditions or adversity.  This is why I was so disturbed by what I saw in the paper and on television.  The faces of these Oklahomans was not that of determination and stregnth.  Their eyes were blank.  They wandered aimlessly as if lost on an alien planet.  It was as if the tornado reached deep inside each of them and pulled out their soul and will to move on.  Of course, that changed quickly as they snapped into action and began helping their neighbors.  But, for one brief moment after the twister made it's exit, this city stood still, gathered it's strength and braced itself for the grim reality which lay under every flattened building.

I've heard witnesses try to describe their experience of going through a tornado.  It never seems to give an accurate account of the event.  The experience is often so traumatic that a recent victim has blocked or avoids certain details.  The risk of slipping into a flashback is very real.  Often, victims are prone to nightmares, anxiety attacks, depression, and violent outbursts.  These symptoms last an entire lifetime and with some frequency lead to suicide or suicidal attempts.  For one who has never been through this experience, it is impossible to fully understand the violence and terror one goes through in a tornado.  After several years, the nightmares have stopped though I still suffer from anxiety attacks and severe depression.  I am going to attempt to give an accurate description of what I experienced.

Right before the storm struck, the air got very still and heavy.  It got to the point where it was hard to breath.  By this point, the twister was on the ground and moving quickly in our direction.  The tornado in "The Wizard of Oz" was serpent-like and menacing, but it came nowhere close to the real thing.  The one I was in (like the one which struck Moore) was very wide and narrowed very slightly at the base.  Even when it was almost 2 miles away, it looked like a black wall of churning debris which filled the horizon.  We just stood there transfixed, not wanting to take our eyes off of it.I was suddenly alarmed at how fast it was baring down on us.  As it came dangerously close, I could see large pieces of sheet metal, cars, household items surface.  Occasionally the funnel would lose it's grip on a piece and it would come shooting out of the massive cloud like a toy flung by a child.  Now it was time seriously take cover and brace ourselves for the tremendous wind.  We were in a cement culvert which ran parallel to the path of the twister.  We hunkered down under a bridge as the funnel reached us.  The wind slammed into us with a force which I will never forget.  It was pitch black.  My ears popped with a head splitting sharp pain and I felt the world begin to spin very fast.  The air was sucked from my lungs and I began to panic suddenly aware that i could not breathe. I thought I had been picked up and was flying through the twister, but I still was clinging to my friend who was to my right and felt the arm of the person to my left around my back.  Large pieces of debris were propelled down our  tunnel-like refuge.  I was being hit with large shards of glass, wood, gravel and metal.  My friend, who was wearing a tank top, had blades of grass embedded in his arms.  The sound, which is impossible to explain in words, was earsplitting.   It was like 20 horn-blowing freight trains all arriving at once or everyone in Manhattan all blowing their car horns in unison.

Suddenly, the wind stopped though the noise continued, I lifted my head up to see pieces of debris which appeared to be dancing in the bright sunlight.  WTF!!!  I could finally breathe, but not for long.  I dropped my head back down and began screaming as I realized that we were in the eye of the funnel and a second wave of was about to hit.  Sunlight disappeared, darkness enveloped us and, like an explosion, the back wind hit.  This time it seemed more violent and I know that, of the 20 some odd people who took refuge with us, at least 2 were sucked up into the funnel.

As the giant funnel passed us it continued to suck debris through the tunnel for at least 30 seconds.  Then it was gone.  There is no way of truly knowing how much time had passed from beginning to end.  Though it seemed like an hour, it was probably less than a minute.  In any case, no one had the presence of minute to check their watch.  We all remained silent and as I raised my head and opened my eyes, i couldn't focus.  My friend was trying to talk to me but it was if we had a bad connection.  I heard the muffled sound of a woman screaming.  Her companion had gotten up and started to run to find someone and was struck in the back of the head by a 2x4.  He flew several feet and landed in a lifeless mass almost out of sight.  My friend sat picking gravel out of his scalp.  I didn't feel the pain but I had a 6 inch piece of glass that had been driven into my arm.  I pulled it out without feeling a thing.  We reached the hospital late that night.  We had about 100 stitches, 2 tetnus shots and a couple of pints of blood between the two of us.  We were luckier than the 62 people who lost their lives that day.

I really feel for the children of Moore.  They will probably never feel "safe" again.  Surviving a storm of this magnitude will leave a child traumatized to the point that they will be constantly watching the sky.   Others will obsessively listen to the weather forecast to predict if the conditions will be right for a twister the following day.  Many complain of waking up in a panic at the least unusual noise.  I know because I have suffered from all of these effects since my experience.

Hurricane Sandy was very traumatic to our area of the country last year.  It ravaged the coast and much of NYC.  The difference is that we had a few days to prepare, gather some belongings, our loved ones and move to safety.  In a tornado, if you are lucky, you have 15 minutes to find shelter.  You dont get in a car.  Most people who try to outrun a tornado die doing so.  You may have time to grab a pet and get in closet or a bathtub and pray that the winds dont take it.  At that it is truly in God's hands.

My heart goes out to the people of Moore, Oklahoma.  There has been some press in the NY area about the congressional representatives from Oklahoma voting against aid for the Hurricane Sandy victims.  We can only cast out vote and hope that our officials will do the right thing.  Those votes in no way represented the voice of Oklahoma.  After Sandy and especially after 9/11/2001, the NYC area felt the love of thousands of Oklahomans who sent donations and supplies.  Hundreds of Oklahoma firefighters and workers showed up to try and rescue and recover our loved ones.  I am a graduate of the University of Oklahoma just south of Moore.  I have a number of friends from Moore.  Oklahomans are tough breed.  They have big hearts and a strong faith.  But, no amount of strength can weather an experience like this unscathed.  They need our prayers, encouragement, and donations to recover and move on.  I plan to do my part.  I hope you will too.

Negative Messages/Lasting Impressions

In every life, there are milestones or events that leave an impression that dictate and steer your behavior or many years.  What may seem insignificant to most, may effect others adversely their whole lives.  

One incident which left a very lasting impression happened when I was about 9 years old.  My mother and father took me to dinner with a couple of their friends and their 2 children.  The waiter approached our table, greeted us and said his name was "Charles".  Charles spoke with a speech impediment in a somewhat effeminate tone.  As he spoke, his hands punctuated his words in a very dramatic manner.  Other than these traits, Charles was a very good and attentive waiter.  He took our order and headed to the kitchen.  It was not 15 seconds later that the parents started in with the "Charles impersonations".  Each performance was more hateful than the one before it.  All of them alluding to the assumption that our waiter was gay.  Even at that young age, I sat in my chair confused by the fact that I had not witnessed the horrible thing Charles had evidently done to deserve this type of reaction.  When it came my turn to bash our waiter, I could feel all eyes fixed on me.  But, I just sat looking around the restaurant as if I had seen or heard nothing of the event that had just taken place.  My mother chimed in with something like, "Next time we'll just leave you at home if you're gonna be such a sour puss."  After that, everytime Charles approached the table, it was in a subdued manner with a somewhat deeper voice.  He had obviously witnessed what had gone on at our table.  He didnt smile as much, he was not as friendly, he was not himself.  Hio su pirit was broken and he retreated back into his closet.  I felt ashamed to be sitting at the table.

It is possible that Charles was over this incident the moment we walked out the door and never thought about it again.  However, it made a lasting impression on my 9 year old mind.  My parents behavior told me that if you are like Charles (at this point I did not have a reference to the word "Gay"), you are the target of humiliation and the butt of every joke.   If you are like Charles, you are forced to endure hateful comments and snickers with a smile on your face.  By being like Charles, you have brought these punishments on yourself.  You are a buffoon and punching bag.

I'm Back.....and In Love? (cont.)

So there I am standing in the bathroom thinking of dead puppies, my grandmother naked anything to make this hard on go away and finally the blood and butterflies subside and I go back out. In a short time, I discover that Josh is from Texas also and we both went to school in Austin. It is amazing that we had not met until now. I catch his eyes occasionally. They are eyes that look right through you and melt your heart and I start feeling something foreign. I am drawn to him immediately. I hang on his every word and then I stop and try to shake it off. What I am feeling is a little scary. I have just met this man less than an hour ago and I'm beginning to dread the moment we have to part. I don't doubt it for a second. This is love. This is what all of the fuss is about. At age 46, I am experiencing true love for the first time? How is that possible? I thought I had been in love before. I had even whispered the words in my partners ear while falling asleep. Were those experiences my mind settling for the next best thing and telling me it was love. In any case, I have never felt feelings this intense for another person. Now I think about him every free moment. A nice day is a waste without being able to share it with him. Then he told me that he is planning to go back to Texas so he could be with his siblings and their children. Once again, I come to the conclusion that my life is a big shit sandwich. Now what?

I'm Back....and in Love?

I started this blog a year and a half ago with the intention of exercising my writing skills. I think they say that the path to Hell is paved with good intentions or maybe I am mixing two metaphors. In any case, I am back with a renewed resolve to share my experiences, observations, and opinions with anyone on here who gives a shit. I have a question. Do you think is possible for a man to reach the age of 46 without ever truly being in love? The reason I ask is that I am currently having feelings for someone that I dont recall ever having before. I met him about a month ago. I was supposed to have breakfast with a friend and he called to ask if I wouldn't mind if his friend joined us. I said of course he could join us. If you have not caught on yet, "breakfast" is a euphamism for another group activity in which gay men participate. I will not always alert you to these, but I am sure you will be able to identify them for yourself in the future. Or, if all else fails, let your imagination wander. The story will no doubt be more interesting and my life will be so much more fulfilling. Anyway, I was introduced to Josh and for the first time I experienced butterflies in my stomach upon meeting someone new. This is a phenomena that I had heard many a time whilst being bored senseless by a female friend recounting the meeting of she and the poor son of a bitch she was currently dating. However, never had this happened to me so i always thought it ull on embellishment to convince me of the depth of their connection. I was always sure that the male counterpart would have had a completely different account of the event. Suddenly, I was having this reaction and thought it was an oncoming wave of nausea which, I feared would be followed by a wave of vomit. Excusing myself, I slipped into the bathroom to discover that I had a full on, post Viagra erection. What the Hell? (Yo Be Continued)