The kitty cat whimpered from her carry case as we drove along to drop her off at Goin’ to Grandma’s. I was a little concerned boarding her for three weeks but we’d done this last year and she handled it well. Still, I can’t help but worry for the well being of a pet. The dirt road was bumpy and before long, her whimpers got deeper and kind of throaty.

Then she puked.

The lady at the kennel was sympathetic and cleaned out the carrying case. We said goodbye to the kitty and headed out for our ninety minute drive to the airport. We’d been planning this trip to Germany since January. Three flights, two layovers and we should land in Berlin tomorrow at 4:00 – just in time for cocktails!

It’s hard to get away from work for three weeks. I really have to make an effort to let everything go. Last year, we went to Spain, France and Italy for three weeks. It was heaven. Ray and I were able to disconnect from everything.

I have discovered that Americans don’t take enough time off. Even if you can’t afford to go somewhere, you should get away from work and take time for yourself. I work with people who get annual notifications to take some of their vacation or they’ll lose it. I can’t imagine what that’s like. I’m always struggling to save vacation time because I take it so much.

So here I am, blogging at the airport just about to embark on an exciting journey. My plan is to blog and post images/videos as we go along as opposed to waiting until we get home. Stay tuned…

There’s no lens that can see what our eyes really see, no microphone that hears what our ears really hear.

There’s no device to record the sensation of the little hairs standing straight up on the back of your neck when your two eyes and two ears experience several bolts of lightning and claps of thunder rolling across the expanse of the high desert plaines.

If I could come up with such a device, I’d be a very wealthy man.

But this artist must keep expressing himself or he’ll die. That is one of the biggest things I have discovered about myself. The true core of my soul is to act as an on-the-spot reporter of life. I have this uncontrollable urge to not only see what’s happening around us but to express it from my own biased point of view. I’m going to show you what happened…to me.

Film at 11.

I was always taken by the carnies who operated the rides. Who were these people? Where did they come from? A lot of them were adorned with tattoos. They were mysterious and edgy. I wanted to be a tattooed carny! I wanted so much to be mysterious and edgy, traveling to strange exotic places, staying up all night operating rides like the Tilt-A-Whirl, Toboggan and my all-time favorite The Zipper. Of course this fantasy quickly faded upon the realization that I kinda liked having a roof over my head, regular hot meals and the option to bathe any time I wanted. I also came to terms with the fact that I’m pretty much “Bob the white guy”. I’m not mysterious nor am I edgy. I’m milquetoast.

However, the tattoo fantasy never diminished. I was fascinated by them. As a young adult, I noticed a lot of gay men had tattoos. I was attracted to that. There was something about a tattooed hunk that was appealing to me. I have this thing for men and masculinity.

You can have androgynous David Bowie any day. I’ll take Henry Rollins.

I was never into boys my own age. I liked men and when I say men I mean manly men. (Joey, do you like movies about gladiators?)

The young blond skinny twink who worked at Hanover Shoes in the Oaks Mall (Yes, I just described myself.) never did it for me but the beefy, stubbly-faced UPS driver with thick furry legs and strong tattooed arms caught my eye every single time. How I wished I could be like that. I loathed being a twink.

I became obsessed with getting inked. There were only two problems. One, I wasn’t the type of cool person who could pull it off. Two, I had no idea what to get. I didn’t want some off-the-shelf thing branded on my person. I wanted something that was truly unique. Something that was an absolute expression of me.

This kept me from getting a tattoo for years. By the time I was ready to actually get one, something had changed. Everyone had a tattoo! They were ubiquitous and for me that was a deal breaker. Tattoos were no longer edgy and mysterious. Having a tattoo didn’t set you apart from the rest of the world, it assimilated you into the Borg.

Resistance is futile.

I decided to forget about it…until I moved to the Arizona desert, grew a stache, turned forty, got a motorcycle and started being addressed as “Sir” or “Daddy” by young gay beard boys (so glad that shaved-body-bleach-blond-Ken-doll phase is over). I have to admit I’m kinda digging the Sir/Daddy thing. Even though I’m at the zenith of my mid-life crisis re-evaluation, there are a few perks to getting older.

So once again, getting a tattoo became an obsession for me. I started thinking about designs. I’m a left-handed Sagittarius. Something on my left arm with a centaur would be cool. I came up with a unique idea along those lines but could not think of a way to make it happen. Still working on it — have been for a while now but I’m not in a rush because a couple of weeks ago, I was suddenly inspired for a new idea by a hummingbird.

Ray and I have noticed this summer that we have a hummingbird that appears to have chosen our place for its home. It likes to rest on a little branch high up on the olive tree in our front yard as well as another little tall branch on one of the mesquite trees in our backyard. It’s very territorial. Whenever other hummingbirds come into the yard, it buzzes around making all sorts of noises and chases them away. Contrary to popular belief, hummingbirds are kinda bad-ass.

I have an appreciation for 78 RPM records. I have always been a music fan and have a small collection of 78s that I occasionally play on my old Pathe Brothers phonograph. One evening I was having a cocktail in the pool. I was thinking about tabletop phonographs and how they have the big horn that looks like a flower. Suddenly the hummingbird buzzed past and this totally random image hit me; a hummingbird drinking the music/nectar from the phonograph horn/flower. That would be a cool tattoo.

That would be a cool tattoo!

I went online and started searching for images of tattoo hummingbirds and phonographs. Then I went to work in Photoshop.

Here are the three images I found.

This was my creation (before I added the wraparound banner).

My tattoo artist (Zach) sketched it out and made a transfer. This marks my skin so he has an outline to follow.

The ink caps. Lots of colors!

Two hours into it. Outline is done. Touching up on the shadowing.

Does it hurt? What do you think?

All done!

I decided to get this one on my right arm. It took four and a half hours. It really didn’t hurt much…at first. The last hour was, well, needles jabbing into an open wound repeatedly at a high rate of speed. What the fuck do you think?

I’m very happy with it. It’s mine. I made it. It’s very, very me. By the way, Lopaka is Hawaiian for Robert (my first name). Lopaka Lounge is not only the name of my website (which wasn’t always a blog), it’s the name of my studio where I create music, photography and other multimedia projects. I still plan to have my other arm tattooed with my other design. It’s in the works. I’m not in a hurry. Hell, I waited forty-something years for this one. In my opinion, the key thing about getting a tattoo is to take your time. Make the right design choice. Try to come up with something original. At one point during my tattoo, we overheard some woman come in the shop and say, “Oh my God! Tinkerbell! I want Tinkerbell!” I looked down at Zach and said, “I bet you fucking hate that.” He stopped, looked down shaking his head and said, “Yeah”.

Many people warned me about getting a tattoo. “You’re going to regret it when you get old!” These were all people who don’t have one. The only regret I have ever heard about a tattoo was the style or design not the tattoo itself.

I went to Zach at Sacred Art Tattoo in Tucson. He was awesome. I plan to have him do my next tattoo. Oh yeah, one other thing: Tip your tattoo artist. This is how they make a living.

I work for local county government. Every Tuesday morning, we have a public meeting of the Board of Supervisors. Today in support of  the employees who are motorcycle enthusiasts, our board has an agenda item to approve a proclamation declaring May to be Motorcycle Safety Awareness Month. Awesome!

We’re going to have a Motorcycle Safety and Driver Awareness presentation by Ride Arizona Motorcycle Training Center and then gather together for a photo.

I think it’s really cool that my workplace is supportive of its employees who ride. This is rural Arizona. If you’re gonna ride your bike to work, you may as well live here.  The photo below is me driving home on “my street” (which is a 7 mile private road).

Here’s a mock-up of my post rapture button.

4 Things I need to spend more time on in my life:

1. Helping others
2. My relationship with my mother
3. Exercise (never ending)
4. Appreciating the little things

4 Things I need to spend less time on in my life:

1. Regretting the unchangeable past
2. Hating anyone or anything
3. Staring at a computer screen
4. Worrying and being fearful of things I have no control over

4 Things I wish I could spend more time on in my life:

1. Inner peace/spirituality
2. Making music
3. Riding my motorcycle
4. Doing anything creative

4 Things I love about myself:

1. I’m left-handed
2. I’m fairly easy on the eyes
3. My stature
4. My big huge…heart

4 Things I hate about myself:

1. I’m too hard on myself
2. I’m incredibly self centered
3. When I get really angry, I cry (HATE that)
4. My low threshold to pain

4 Things I love that I used to hate:

1. Vegetables
2. Exercise
3. Pool volleyball
4. Myself

4 Things I hate that I used to love:

1. Disney movies
2. The greater Los Angeles area
3. Sugary soda pop
4. Politics/politicians

4 Things I look forward to:

1. Growing old with Ray
2. Summer
3. Evening and/or weekend cocktails with friends or with Ray
4. Having my Alone Time

4 Things I dread:

1. Performing (YES performing! Scares the crap out of me.)
2. Winter
3. Conflict of any kind
4. Aging, wrinkles, getting gray

4 Things I once believed in but no longer do:

1. Our political system
2. Organized religion
3. American cinema
4. Consumerism

4 Things I believe in that I didn’t use to:

1. My own inner strength (You can be your own best friend? Who knew?)
2. The placebo effect
3. Mind over matter
4. Love

4 Things I love to do but I’m bad at:

1. Golf
2. Sing
3. Act
4. Write

4 Things I hate to do but I’m good at:

1. Technical troubleshooting
2. Photo retouching
3. Changing a flat tire
4. Running

4 Things I did that I am ashamed of:

1. Make my mother cry (On several occasions)
2. Stole lots of money from my family (Bad kid with a drug habit)
3. Got permanently expelled from High School
4. I spent way too many years hating myself for being homosexual

4 Things I did that I’m proud of:

1. Completed a four-year college program in three at the age of thirty-three
2. I was writer/director Frank Darabont’s assistant on his film The Shawshank Redemption
3. Played a gig at the world famous Roxy on the Sunset Strip with my former band “November”
4. Took care of my father when he was dying

4 Things I didn’t do that I regret:

1. A very close friend of mine was suffering from HIV complications in 94. When he got really sick, I couldn’t look at him. I avoided him and then he died. I never got to say goodbye.
2. Start exercising while my body was producing its maximum amount of testosterone (Much different trying to bulk up at 45)
3. Become a professional performer – I never even tried
4. Save money for retirement sooner

4 Things I want before I die:

1. A better world
2. About 50 more years of being ambulatory, great skin and lots of sex
3. Ray with me for those 50 years
4. I want the people in my life to also have a happy wonderful long-lived life experience

One day when the house was under construction, while visiting Ray’s mother in California, we were sitting around the dining room table talking. I looked over at one of the captain’s chairs (the set has two) and noticed that the chair had some really cool angles going on. I had never noticed that before.

Since I can remember, the dining table at Ray’s mom’s house was covered with a huge tablecloth. The upholstery was some sort of tan woven vinyl and the wood was dark brown. I never took notice of it.

Suddenly my interest was getting the best of me. I lifted up the heavy over-sized tablecloth and saw this:

I motioned to Ray and mouthed, “Look at this!” Ray took a look and then did a double-take. Ray’s mom had a totally cool dining set! She was also 89 years old and slowing down. We decided to hold off on buying a dining room set. What’s the rush?

Fast forward five years. Ray’s mom is still here but bedridden and really, really slowing down. We’ve been using a nasty old folding banquet table with cheap white stackable plastic chairs. I was starting to get impatient with our “temporary” dining set.

Once again, we were visiting Ray’s mom. I sat down on one of the chairs and noticed it was very wobbly. I took a look at the chairs and discovered they were all on the verge of collapse. I got worried. Ray talked to his siblings and they agreed that it would be OK to take the set. Ray’s mother had been bedridden in the back room for a year. It was better to take the table and have it repaired than to have it break.

During the time we were waiting for the dining set, we had noticed that there were a few other pieces of furniture that would do well in our house. Two rocking chairs and a bedroom set.

A couple of months ago, we rented a truck and drove the dining set, bedroom set and two rockers from California to Arizona. The bedroom set was in mint condition.

Coincidently, it’s the same bedroom set that Major Anthony Nelson has in his room on the I Dream of Jeannie television series.

The dining table and rocking chairs needed some work so we took them to Dadd’s Refinishing & Upholstery in Sierra Vista.

We just got everything back yesterday. Ray and I are both very pleased with the work. The table was completely stripped and returned to its blond color. (Ray’s mom had it stained dark brown in the 70′s – because that’s what you did back then.) All the chairs were refurbished and are sturdy again.

The rockers were reupholstered and restained. We put one in the Master bedroom and one in the guest room.

We finally have a dining set! We finally have a bedroom set! For five years our bedroom was nothing but a king-size mattress & box spring on a frame flanked by two outdoor folding tables as night stands. It looked like a dorm room.

I am very thankful to have this furniture. It’s nice to keep it in the family and it really goes well with our home – which now actually feels like a home.

I know, it’s kind of stupid to get excited over furniture but for some reason, it just makes me feel a sense of completion. Our house is finally furnished.

Finally…

Furnished…

A group of people at work decided to ride our bikes in for the day. Ray and I usually carpool but he had left for the weekend to go see his mother in California so I jumped at the opportunity to ride my bike to work.

Not to mention the opportunity to post a photo of me and my bike on my blog!

I have to apologize for not being up-to-date with my blog. I’ve been a little busy. Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve been very busy.

One of our programmers at work resigned and I was assigned his duties. It was surprising how some people at work saw this as “being dumped on”. I think it’s a fantastic opportunity. I’m learning a lot — especially in the SQL database arena. I’m a web guy who deals with databases but I’ve never had to go in and run scripts or create queries. I’ve also inherited a bunch of applications that were built in-house so there’s some programming involved. At least they guy who did all this work left behind some documentation and all of the original project files.

Yay programming! Soon, I’ll be making my own web-based applications — and no, I’m not looking for side work. People do that to me all the time. ”Hey Cobban, my friend wants a website for her dog grooming business so I gave her your number and told her how much you’d love to do it.” WTF?? What did you do that for? Now I have to deal with this person who’s pissed off because they think I’m all hot to do their website and I’m not.

My other favorite is when people find out you have a design background. “You’re a designer?? Great! My kid’s soccer team needs a logo!” They expect you to, A. Pull a logo out of your ass and B. Do it for free. When finding out that the person I have just met is a dentist, I don’t open my mouth and ask for a free consultation. “You’re a mechanic?? Can you run outside and see why my car is making that funny noise??” The nerve.

So life has been kind of busy but in a good way. I’m really ready for the heat of summer. I love heat!

Everyone should live alone at least once in their life. I did it for three years. It was the best thing in the world for me. I became reliant on myself for companionship, my own best friend, master of my domain — in my tiny little apartment.

I need my Alone Time. Hey, I love being around people but every once in a while, I need total spaz out time with myself. This weekend, I had an opportunity to document my Alone Time and now you have the opportunity to see just how much of a dork I am. I don’t care! I had a great weekend.

The video camera is kinda crappy (or I haven’t figured out how to use it) and I have not put on my video editor’s cap in a very long time but I had a blast nonetheless. (You might want to give it some volume…)

Today marks seventeen years of togetherness for the two of us.

I am the luckiest man on the planet! Sorry other Luckiest Man in the World, it’s me, I’m at the top — or at least for today.

Some people meet, fall in love and kinda morph into a state of just…loving their other half. Not me. I am amazed at how much more in love I get with each passing year.

There are a lot of people who read my blog (all tens of them) and only know Ray from what I say about him. I’m confident the people in my life who know Ray or have at least met him, will back me up on this one: He’s probably one of the nicest guys you’ve ever met. Not to mention helpful, smart, fantastic, handsome, confident, gush, gush gush…

People frequently comment about our relationship. It’s nice to hear their kind words but I do have to point out that it’s hard work. The only reason we get along so well is because we both put a lot of effort into it. As we all know, if you put a lot of effort into something it starts to look effortless. Also, I do have to say, it isn’t always perfect. We both have our little idiosyncrasies.

Ray is the kind of man that makes me wish we could live forever. I was very immature when we first got together. Through the years, he’s been a friend, mentor, lover, partner and in many ways a father. I owe a lot to him. He’s always been there and helped shape me into the person I am today and that’s what makes a relationship. We both say, “I love you” about ten times a day.

I used to say that it didn’t matter that the laws governing the USA would not allow us to marry because we really are technically married. I’ve changed my mind. It does matter. After almost two decades together, we should be allowed the same benefits as that young couple who marry after a short courtship. In the seventeen years that we’ve been together, I’ve seen the people who enforce these rules of marriage, divorce and remarry like a wash-and-wear shirt or even better, get caught with their pants down while wife (or husband) is home taking care of the kids. But who am I to judge being the sinner that I am?

I love you Ray. That’s all that matters to me. Everyday I radiate thanks and gratitude for having you as my partner.