Along with all the great times we’ve had, there have been a few rocky times.  Like all “true” friends, the gravy of our friendship was tested and made pure.  The inner bitches were exactly that…bitches.  We were two of the most stubborn people  on this earth.  Together, we were like brick walls that wouldn’t budge.  Sometimes, the walls would get to high and we couldn’t see each other.  Those were the truly hard times.  When I couldn’t see Garry past the cold, evil bitch hiding deep inside him, there was a disconnect and I truly and deeply hurt.  But, on my side of that, I can be an emotional sponge and hold everything inside until it explodes and hurts those around me and in the end, myself.

Once, a few years ago, Garry sent me an email with something he knew he should have said to my face.  Those who really know me know that if there is something you want to tell me, something that I should really know, you don’t send it to me in an email.  Have the decency to say it to my face and then we can discuss the matter.  He had decided that he could write everything out in an email, send it to me with the line, “My mind is made up and there’s no need for you to say anything about it.”, and think I would be fine with it.  The sponge effect set in and I didn’t open my mouth to say a word.  For almost a month…possibly more…I didn’t say a word to him.  We could pass within a few feet from one another and you could feel the iceberg between us.

One Saturday night, we all ended up at the bar for some event.  After being there for about an hour, we had drank a few beers and some harder drinks.  As any person knows who has drank quite a bit, alcohol can and will act as a truth serum.  We ended up within a few feet of each other and it took one or two words said by each other and then the floodgates opened full blast.  Everything came out and by the time we were through, our minds and our tear ducts were spent.  We could barely talk from a mixture of hoarse voices and crying.  We continued to drink that night and from then on, we never had that problem again.  As time revealed, the reason for the email and the eventual breakdown never came to fruition.  That is, until 2011 when he did finally move to California.

I have a brother that I love with every ounce of my being, but Garry was that brother I wanted that was close to my age and could relate to almost everything going on in my life.  For quite a long time, Garry referred to me as “Mama” and the other half as “Deddy”.  Yes, it was as strange as it sounds but it came from the relationship we had.  If there was something that arose in his life or a decision he made, I was the first person to open my mouth and tell him what I thought.  If I didn’t think it was a good idea, I would tell him and then give him the opportunity to either agree with me or give me the reasons why he really needed to carry on.  We both did that to him on many occasions.  If we hadn’t have done that, I am sure we all would have been just as close, but maybe we helped him make some important decisions.

The strangest of friendships can come from the strangest pairs of people.  We couldn’t have proved that statement more correct.  My tastes were on one end of the spectrum and his was on the other.  We both loved to write to get our minds clear.  We both had a love for science fiction movies and books.  We both were interested in fitness and eating healthy food when we wanted to.  The difference fell on the collectibles from Swarovski where he worked or the Disney movies and prints.  I’m interested in hiking and camping and college football.  He drank Mountain Dew like it was water.  I drank water most of the time.  I love trying all types of wine and beer while Garry was a hard liquor and cocktails person.  We managed to make things work when we were hanging out and the friendship endured as we always knew it would.  Hey, that’s what best friends are for.

I have been MIA lately…maybe not in physical form but in mental stability.  There’s no correct or logical way to train someone or teach someone how to accept the passing of a loved one.  When someone becomes such an important part of your life, your brain finds it hard to accept a truth if it pertains to that person physically being removed from your presence for eternity.

On January 20, 2012, my dear friend Garry passed from this world.  Not only did I consider him my friend, I also considered him my brother.  We were very close in that we shared many of the same values and had the same quick temperament.  As we always said, we both had an inner bitch and when something needed to be said, that inner bitch did not think twice before letting the truth come out.  As we both believed, the truth hurts sometimes and everyone needs to hear and feel it often.  On the total opposite end of the spectrum, there was a spot so sensitive that the slightest hurtful word from a loved one would split us in two.

I met Garry (yes, there are two “R”s in his name) in 1999 after living in the area for a few months.  I was working for the now defunct WB Studio Stores in a nearby mall.  A few months after starting there, he and two others were hired.  I was working mostly evenings which meant working late to fold clothes and clean up after messy customers.  We were working one night when he needed some help folding shirts.  I gladly offered my help and after talking to him for a while, out of nowhere, the inner bitch asked, “Are you gay?”

It seemed to cause instant silence.  He looked at me like…WHAT?  After a minute, we both laughed our ass off and that was the beginning of the Garry/Wes duo.  When we worked together, it was as if we were connected.  We knew what the other was saying at any time.  Christmas time in the mall could not have been more enjoyable if it hadn’t been for him.  The POS system went down and was out for Black Friday and on into December.  We had to keep each other sane as we did all the calculations by hand and with small calculators.  The beer flowed when we returned home each night!

Not only were we coworkers, we were also roommates.  Garry decided to move into the apartment with us in Duluth.  It was an awesome time and we were able to meet some wonderful people that continue to be great friends.  One Halloween, we decided to dress in drag.  We wanted to do it correctly and all out.  It seemed like we were in Wal-Mart late at night for days on end.  One night, we needed some help with sizing.  We had already picked out our shoes and had chosen our costumes at the thrift store.  We went to the local Wal-Mart location, around midnight, and went to the ladies department.  There was a nice lady working in the area and we caught her attention.  She walked over and in my nicest voice, I said, “Yes, we need some help from a lady.  My friend and I will be dressing in drag for Halloween and we need to know….if we had boobs and they were proportional, what size would you say we were?”  Obviously, this wasn’t a weird question for her as she looked at us and said I was a C and that he was more of a D.  She was right and to show our appreciation, on Halloween night, we walked our asses right up into Wal-Mart and allowed her, and everyone else in the store, to check out our look.  She loved it and so did everyone that stopped us to ask where we had bought everything.

We did the drag thing a few times out of sheer craziness.  Once, it was because it was requested from his partner, Arnold.  It was his 21st birthday party and he wanted a drag party to beat all drag parties.  Many of the guys from the bar in Tucker decided to join us and we all had such a crazy fun time.

I could sit here and type for days to tell you the good times we’ve had.  Honestly, they are too numerous for words.  A book could be written on what “fun” meant to us.  In its simplest form, “fun” was when we could let go of all our cares and concerns and relinquish our bodies and minds to whatever came our way.  When you got us together and alcohol was in the mix, heaven be with anyone within reach.  We were dancing and laughing and just acting like a bunch of fools.  The next day, we were usually looking at each other with that quizzical look of…why the hell did we do that last night?

We talk about news stories, child raising, and cats being thrown at George’s windows during the wind storm we had last week.

As always, send us email at thegaycountryboy@gmail.com or leave voice mail at 678-765-9776.

As always, email us at thegaycountryboy@gmail.com or leave a voice message at 678-765-9776.  Also, make sure to go to iTunes and leave a review for the show.  It will really help our standing in the podcasting community!

Send us email at thegaycountryboy@gmail.com.  Leave us a voice message at 678-765-9776.  Go to iTunes and leave us a review on the podcast.  It would be very appreciated!

“I’m sorry” is something we hear an awful lot these days.  It’s not only for Canadians anymore!  You hear it when a polite person bumps into you.  You hear it when someone doesn’t hear you well and needs you to repeat yourself.  You will even hear it from children if they’ve messed up.  Well, those who have been raised correctly, that is.

There have been a good amount of people lately who are in the “spotlight” who have said it.  For instance, one or two people have used the Big-T word to refer to a transgendered person while on TV or on radio.  A few days later, Twitter, Facebook, and all other social sites were filled with apologies from these people saying they either didn’t know or they were so sorry they upset their fans.  I’ve also read apologies from politicians that have used offensive words or did something they eventually felt bad about.

Call me closed minded, but those public apologies, to me, carry no meaning at all.  When I open my mouth, the words that come out are from my mind.  They have obviously been in my vocabulary for a long time.  I can honestly say that I have used the T-word on many occasions.  Maybe it has to do with the fact that I have no transgender people in my circle of friends.  Actually, I don’t personally know any.

The reason I bring this topic up is because I have read at least four apologies in the news or on Twitter this month alone.  I can’t begin to believe that this apology is coming straight from their hearts.  After they are schooled by their PR people, their managers, or their fans, then the apologies start pouring out.  That pouring out of sorrow sounds like they are begging fans and followers to stop paying them attention.  Was this one word that they never say and decided to spit it out where the public could hear them?  I doubt it very seriously.

I would rather hear them say, “The other day on ____, I said ____.  I normally use this word and I have never known it was an offensive word to use to any group of people.  If it has offended you, I apologize.  I can’t promise I will never say it again, but it will not be on a publicly aired telecast when it is said.  Thank you.” 

If the person said this, I would totally believe him or her after that.  Telling me that they are “totally understanding and will never say it again” will turn me off in a heart beat.  How do you expect anyone to believe that?  It’s a tad far fetched, you know?

As much as I love this place, I am always disturbed and confused when I go to any location. The reason for that is I don’t know how I should gauge the staff. One thing to remember is that it is considered a fast-food joint…supposed to be. It’s not always that way. You would think that the management would be ready to deal with whatever comes their way. For instance, it is not Christmas Day, but it is still in the same week. People have cooked till they don’t want to cook any more. They would rather go get a bucket of chicken and some sides and call it a night. You should have all the stuff you need when the people get there. If you see you don’t have a type of chicken ready to package up for the customers, cook it before you run completely out. Don’t make people wait in the place till the stuff is done. If your place closes at 11pm, don’t act like you’re about to leave at 6:30. It’s still business time and there are some hungry people.

My second concern is the quality of the staff. I understand that you don’t have to have a degree to work in fast-food or even a high school diploma, but dad-gum, have some kind of organizational and personal skills to make the flow easier and without hang-ups. That goes for the managers and the staff alike. If you have crappy managers, the staff working under them isn’t going to have much motivation to be any better.

I’ve noticed other things, but if I start putting those into words…especially online…it’s going to get messy. All I will say is that if you are going to operate a restaurant that people in an area really love, make sure you have people working who are capable of satisfying in every way…customer service, a fast process, and hospitality. It’s not much to ask. Oh wait, I guess that is too much to ask for someone making $7.50 an hour, huh?

Christmas is, and always has been, my favorite holiday. I love the bright colors, the joyous singing, the warm greetings, and the feeling of warmth that this season holds. No other season has this power over me.

You may not celebrate Christmas, and it is your right to celebrate whatever holiday you observe. This post is about the holiday I observe, and whether it is different from yours or not, please open your minds and allow its meaning to enter in.

As a child, I was taught the importance of Christmas. Caring and giving without expectation of receiving anything in return were the two most important things to teach a child. This day in time, those things need to be shown more and more. After reading the article above, I was reminded of this. I am glad that Pope Benedict XVI discussed this modern Christmas celebration in his mass. Toppie Smellie (The Smellcast Podcast) discussed this on an installment of his Christmas series.

Commercialism has taken hold of this sacred holiday and has turned it into something selfish and vile. Instead of being taught to be humble, children are being taught that whatever they want, they can have. We saw the many stupid things that were done on Black Friday by parents who obviously believe this way of thinking. Instead of accepting the fact that she may not be able to purchase an XBox 360 for her child, the woman in California stooped to such a low level of inflicting pain on others to fulfill her own selfishness…and in the end, the selfishness of her child. That’s just the horrible side of the shopper.

Businesses are cashing in on this thought process. It’s as if the leaders of retail companies are sitting back and saying, “Hey, look at these people. They will do anything to get into our stores when we run these insane sales. I wonder what we can do next year.” I, for one, did not take part in this insane ritual. On Black Friday, my behind is sitting on the couch. That’s a day I let ignorance carry on without me. There is nothing in any store that means so much to me that I have to place myself in danger to get to it. NOTHING! I have told people this year that they would not be receiving anything from me. And, that’s the honest truth. We purchased something for the two kids next door. That was our donation to the economy this year.

Thinking back to my childhood, I am reminded how thankful I was to receive the gifts my parents were able to give me. We were not wealthy people. We were not poor as we had enough money for the food we ate, the clothes we wore, and our house. My father worked for us to have these things. My mother was a stay at home mom. We were asked at Christmas what we wanted and we would say a couple of things. It was understood that these things were only wishes and were not promised. My parents usually found a way to get most of the things we wanted. Many times, if they couldn’t find exactly what we asked for, something of equal purpose would be provided. The three of us had no issues with that.

As a young child on Christmas Eve, my mother would take chairs from the kitchen and sit them in front of the tree. She would take the presents brought to us by “Santa Clause” and set them up in the chair. It was a display on a country level! Beside the chairs, there would be brown paper grocery bags…one for each of us. In these bags would be nuts, fruit, and candy. In many ways, those bags and their contents were more important to me than the things displayed in the chair. These things were sustenance. These things could be enjoyed and also fill my stomach. Even at a young age, I knew there were thousands of children around the world who were not able to enjoy such things. I felt terribly blessed to have these things.

At this time of year, I for one, celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, the true meaning and observance of this season. Each year, I like to read in the Book of Luke Chapters 1-2. It brings everything back into view. The baby in the manger didn’t need the coolest new toy from Fisher Price. His mother wasn’t concerned if her husband was buying her a new shinny ring from Jared. Joseph was not worried whether he was getting the new rifle from Remington or any of the hunting gear to go with it. Whatever they had in their possession was all they needed…other than the little baby lying in that manger.

This Christmas, make sure to give thanks for the things you posses. You have clothes, a home, food, and if you’re reading this, you own some type of electronic device. Think of the unfortunate people in the world who aren’t even capable of having proper food. While you sit at a table in a comfortable home, remember those who are eating with their fingers while sitting on a curb somewhere. Think of those that are sitting in huts made from whatever they can find to stick together to form a shelter. It’s not easy for them but they have learned to deal. Could you do that? Today, all I ask is for you to stop and think.

Have a very Merry Christmas!

As always, you can send us email at thegaycountryboy@gmail.com or you can leave us voicemail at 678-765-9776.  Please leave us a review over at iTunes by searching for The Gay Life of a Country Boy.