I spent my formative years, six to eleven I figure, in a very small town built on the side of a Sierra Nevada mountain. It was twenty miles West of Reno, NV, a few miles over the State line.

My sexual identity was born there, I used to climb the tallest pine trees and float with the wind at the top. We walked more than a mile every morning to Interstate 40, across two major railroad lines, just to catch our school bus to Truckee, fourteen miles a way.

And again, my grandparents played an amazing role in our life! Step dad Paul was a long haul trucker, out making the family survival money. Our grandparents lived just over the Nevada state line, in Reno.

They would come get us when they could. I have so many amazing memories of those times, barbecue beef sandwiches at the drive-in movie, driving through black town where they had no rights, having my grandmother pull me from a public swimming pool because a black kid stepped in.

I saw discrimination early in my life, and I saw it as inhuman and ugly. Now I'm the most non-discriminatory person I know.

I've had several black women in my life, my buddies who have had none, can only drool.

And some of my best male friends in life, have been black.

Daniel and I were talking about boxing today and we both agreed that Mike Tyson is going to kick that punk kid's ass.

I'm a Tyson fan, and a Muhammad Ali fan. What an epic fight that would have been. I've met Ali in person, talked to him, touched him, but not Mike. That would be a tough one to call.

I remember a Summer that changed my life. I was a teenaged pimply faced kid, growing up in Paradise, CA.

My grandfather, Jack King, was my mentor. He loved me and took me with him whenever he could. An amazing man, gold miner, entrepreneur, gambler and a sign painter.

We were somewhere in Central Northern California, checked into a motel for a week while he painted a sign locally. There was a pool, it was Summer, and I lived there with my feet in the water.

One night we watched a boxing match on the little motel TV. It was Ali and somebody, he floated like a butterfly, stung like a bee, and won.

So did I, the Sun and the chlorine cleared my face up, I had a strong male figure in my life that loved me, and all I can say now is thank you grandpa!

I just attended the New Prospect Fire Department annual fish fry fund raiser, for the forth year in a row. Sat with Daniel and wife Jen, had a great meal, plenty left over for dinner, with a slice of homemade chocolate cake.

We spotted the helicopter crew eating as we stood in line. We wondered if they drove or flew here.

They flew. I told Daniel that if his heart gives out, he was in a good place.

Here's a great shot of my sweet grand-daughter Ariella watching a deer from her house.

I was sitting in my chair, when Daniel walked in and asked me if I wanted anything from Legends Express. I initially took the lame response, no I'm fine, after only eating some strange sandwich from a joint down the road when I picked up my friend this morning.

He insisted, so I ordered a meatloaf and sides. I suppose I do need to stay alive and survive! We share this meal thing, and I value it.

Here's the result of my lazy day:

Sitting here odd man out to a chess game. It's quiet and peaceful, door wide open, rain soaked air flowing in. I can write while they play.

Victory is close for one friend, as they split from the table for a moment, to piss and refresh a drink from next door.

One friend looks the other in the eye and says checkmate, or the other says I concede, or wait, they both just agreed to a stalemate!

I have a friend named Andrew, a tech guy inspired by me as he grew up alongside my boy, recently tell me that:

I can code a handshake between two systems that otherwise would never talk to each other. Any two systems can do such with a rest api, irregardless of intellectual property's or even how its coded. I could make the department of defense talk to your blog.

He may drop by here one day and it would be great to be inspired by him!

It's been a fun morning hanging out with a couple of guys. One is a hot wheels collector and the other is an ice house repair specialist. They live together under the bridge, to keep expenses down.

I let them use my electricity and internet, to juggle car sales, and advise on ice house maintenance.

OJ has died at my age, and his life has been plastered all over my big TV all morning. Both of my friends have interesting takes on it. My only thought was his prison time and the fact that he died of prostate cancer.

The three of us are communicating in three different directions at the moment. They're both on their phones, one talking, one watching, while I'm on my computer blogging about it.

Their shopping carts with all of their possessions in them, are parked up against the house, because it's raining.

btw: I always blog honestly, but this was soaked with a bunch of facetiousness today...

I talked to this great woman on the phone this morning, for a half an hour. She was from my local clinic and was asking questions that are part of my yearly Medicare checkup.

She was diving deep, with questions like have I ever considered harming myself or others. I said I love life, and others. She asked if I was depressed, I told her to read my blog.

She asked how I slept, I told her I drink myself to sleep. There were more probing questions and I just laid myself out on the slab. and answered them all.

I've been sitting around with Daniel as he bemoans his heart condition. He could drop dead any minute, and I would miss him!

But most of all, I would miss life...