It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like ....

... A Boatload Of Decorations.

But, hey, it's Christmas-time, we're here, we're queer, and we're putting up the lights and the trees and the ornaments and the bulbs, stars glitter and glitz.

Plus, we like shiny stuff ....

Wedding Week Repost: Mad About The Town

Well, since I'm away, I thought I'd offer up a little tour of Smallville [real name: Camden} for those of you — and I'm assuming that's all of you, who've never been here.

Camden is the fourth oldest city in of South Carolina, and is actually the oldest inland city, with a population of roughly 8,000. In total area, Camden is 9.8 square miles, of which 9.6 is land, and 0.2 is water.

Like I said, Smallville.

In 1730—yes, almost three hundred years ago — Camden became part of a township plan ordered by King George II, and was laid out in 1732 as the town of Fredericksburg in the Wateree River swamp — just  south of present-day Camden.

When King George III ordered eleven inland townships established along South Carolina's rivers, few of the area settlers chose to take lots surveyed in the town, choosing the higher ground to the north, and the Fredericksburg Township soon disappeared.

In 1758, Joseph Kershaw, from Yorkshire, England came into the township, established a store and renamed the town Pine Tree Hill. Camden became the inland trade center in the colony, and Kershaw suggested that the town be renamed Camden, in honor of Lord Camden, the champion of colonial rights.

In May 1780 the American Revolution came to Charleston, and that town was captured. Afterwards, Lord Charles Cornwallis and 2,500 of his troops marched into Camden and established it as the main British supply post for the Southern campaign.

The Battle of Camden, the worst American defeat of the Revolution, was fought on August 16, 1780 in Camden, and the Battle of Hobkirk Hill was fought by 1,400 American troops led by General Nathanael Greene and 950 British soldiers led by Lord Francis Rawdon on April 25, 1781. The latter battle was a costly win for the British, and forced them to leave Camden.

And there’s the Robert Mills Courthouse, designed in 1825 by "South Carolina's Architect", Robert Mills. The courthouse features a copper roof, brick floors, vaulted central hallway, double arched ceilings downstairs; built to be fireproof, the walls of the courthouse are 22-inch thick masonry at the base covered by plaster, tapering to about fifteen inches thick at the second floor.  The single courtroom has been restored to conform to an 1845 renovation, when wide pine plank floors were installed to cover the second story brick floor. 

Robert Mills, also known as America's first architect, studied under Thomas Jefferson, PIerre L' Enfant, and James Hoban, and also designed the Washington Monument and the U.S. Treasury Building in Washington, D.C.

After the Civil War — Camden was one of the few Southern cities not directly involved in the war — Camden became a place where rich Northern families would spend the winter, bringing their prize horses with them. The town became associated with many equestrian activities, and is now the home of the third oldest active polo field in America. In the winter, more than 1,500 thoroughbreds call the field home and for that reason, Camden is now known as the ‘Steeplechase Capital of the World’.”

The Carolina Cup is an annual event held on either the final Saturday in March or the first Saturday of April, with the first race held on March 22, 1930; the Cup has been held every year since, with the exception of 1943 and 1945 when a little old thing called World War Two got in the way — why they had a Cup in '44 is not known.

The races have become a South Carolina tradition, and normally draw crowds of over 70,000 spectators to Camden. As Casa Bob y Carlos is on the road to the racecourse, we see most of these people driving, and walking, to the Cup.

The Cup has become a premier social sporting event at Springdale Race Course, which is also home to the Marion du Pont Scott Colonial Cup held on the third Sunday in November.

It's a big deal in Smallville.

And so, y'all, there's a little history, and a few pictures of Small.....er, Camden.

Wedding Week Repost: Tie Him Up! Tie Him Down!

In a couple of days we'll become Mister and Mister ... not to be confused with that last century pop group Mr. Mister, so here's another one of those Carlos Stories that y'all seem to like.

There are millions from which to choose, but this one, from August 2009, is a personal favorite.

Tie Him Up! Tie Him Down!

Sunday was errand day at Chez Smallville. Carlos had to work an HIV presentation on Saturday, and then we met up for a late dinner at a Smallville bistro we like, so our usual Saturday errands were pushed back a day. But it was supposed to be hot, so we decided to keep it simple. Groceries at Kroger and a quick stop for weed killer and spray nozzles for the garden hoses at the Homo Depot.

That is not a misspelled word. It's HOMO Depot.

We parked near the garden center and went in. Carlos is hypnotized by plants and he began to wander off like he's found the mother ship and it's time to go home. I shout after him, "I'm going inside to get the things we need. Stay out here and I'll be right back."

The best laid plans.

I get the weed killer. I get the spray nozzles -- which look like fazers....phasers?....from Star Trek, and I head back out to plant central to pick up Carlos.. he isn't there. I wander around the aisles of plants and pavers and trellises....ooh, I want to put a trellis up against the side of the garage....keep moving. No Carlos.

I whistle for him. I know, he's not a dog, but in Miami we had a cat named Voncie who would come running if I whistled a certain way, and now Carlos and I use it when we can't find the other one of us. So, I whistled. No Carlos.

I go back inside the Homo Dept to the weed killer aisle thinking he went to find me. No Carlos. I go outside to where they keep the spray nozzles thinking he's waiting there. No Carlos. I whistle. No Carlos.

I head to the cashier and pay for my things and walk out to the car. Would he have gone back to the car? No Carlos.

I head back inside whistling out loud and cursing to myself. Weed killer. No Carlos. Hoses. No Carlos. Plants. No Carlos. I was thisclose to going inside and telling a cashier that I had lost my little girl, Carlotta, and having them page him for me, when I see him sauntering toward me.

I've been looking for you, I said.

I found some drapes, he told me.

Drapes.

Weed killer. Spray nozzle. Plants.

Nope, not a mention of drapes at all....oh wait......over breakfast he said we needed new drapes for the sunroom.

Drapes.

I saw a video earlier this week of a mother literally dragging her son by a leash through a Circuit City or Best Buy or something. At the time I thought it was horrendous. Now I'm not so sure. I'm thinking we should stop at Pet Smart and get Carlos fitted for a leash.

That was Sunday in Smallville.

Wedding Week Repost: Straw Hats and Bow Ties

I remember watching an episode of Sex and the City ... I'm gay, so that answers that question ... and Samantha was asking if anyone is ever really happy in their relationship every single day.

Charlotte said she was, and Samantha, stunned, asked, "You're happy in your relationship every day?"

And Charlotte said, "Well, not all day, but, yes, every single day I'm happy in my relationship."

That's how I feel about Carlos and here's a little repost from March 2009 as an example of why ...

Straw Hats and Bow Ties

I have one hard and fast rule — actually I have about a thousand, but we'll deal with this one today—unless you are under six or over eighty, you should never wear a bow tie.

Amended to add: or unless you're Carlos.

Backing up a bit. When I flew to Miami nine years ago to meet Carlos face-to-face, he was picking me up at the Ft Lauderdale airport. I knew what he looked like, and he knew me; we'd emailed and snail mailed pictures. But he told me he'd be wearing a bow tie when I arrived so I could spot him. And yes he was; a cute little bow tie and a bunch of roses. He looked adorable, although that one hard and fast rule played in my mind.

A bow tie?

Come to find out, Carlos only wears bow ties when a tie is needed. And of course, being the 21st century and being Miami, we weren't invited to too many functions where a tie was necessary, so I didn't see him in one for a long while.

Flash forward to yesterday. We're meeting Roger and Thomas at the HuffawFawFaw Hall — it’s actually called Springdale Hall, but at first I thought it would be a pretentious affair, hence the HuffawFawFaw. I showered and shaved and cologned and styled and got myself pressed and dressed and spackled and shined; and Carlos did the same.

He came down the hall wearing a new green shirt and a yellow bow tie. That rule rang a bell in my head. Then I looked at him.

He was the cutest thing ever!

I have changed the rule as of yesterday. No bow ties unless you're Carlos.

But then he put on an actual straw hat, and for a moment I thought I was going to lose it. Straw. Hat. Oh honey.....No.......no. And then the damned thing increased his cuteness level tenfold. I may have to keep him in bow ties and straw hats forever. My heart skipped a little he looked so handsome.

Sometimes you forget, when you see the same face day after day, just how handsome they can be....even in a bow tie and straw hat!

A Visitor to Casa Bob y Carlos

Okay, so these aren't the newest of pictures. We had issues with our computer downloading pictures from the camera so these have been sitting on a memory card for a while now.

Yes, Blobby, I know all about iPhones and sending pictures to your email, but we here at Casa Bob y Carlos only Dumbphone™ so that idea was useless to us.

But now the problem has been solved and here's our little friend who came for breakfast one morning.

Notice how Tuxedo is on High Alert ... and possibly looking for a way to chew through the window screen!

That's our visitor under the trees, with both Ozzo, AKA The PocketDog™, and MaxGoldberg, completely oblivious!

He does find the leaves on some of the trees to be quite tasty.

Now he, or she, I really don't know, is headed to the other side of the yard; I think he, or she, came in that way.

And the visit ends with a quick glance back and a shake of the tail.

Random Musings

We spent last Sunday with former Round-The-Way-Gays, Neal and David; they downsized a bit and moved into another neighborhood here in Smallville, so they are just a little Further-Round-The-Way.

We picked up a friend, Matt, who is in his mid-80’s — yes, I said, eighties — and he is always such a pistol. He’s spending part of this next weekend at a male dance revue where the men don’t actually take off their clothes because, well, they aren’t wearing any clothes, save for elastic bands on their wrists and thighs for you to slip your money into. My wish is that I have half the energy, zest for life, the get up and go, and just plain fun in my 80s as Matt does now.

Afterwards, we took Matt home and then the four of us do what The Gays like to do on a hot day: shop. I’d heard from a friend about a salvage shop near downtown Columbia, and Neal, who knows where everything is, literally, knew of it, so off we went. And they had everything; some salvaged, some salvaged and repurposed; clay pots and sheets; palladium windows turned into mirrors; cabinets, tile, sinks, lights, furniture.

Naturally, Carlos and I will be headed back soon because there were several things we want for the house that we found there, though one thing I think we’ll pass on is the stone sink that Carlos found.

I mean, if we lived in bedrock …..

Why did it take seven years to get Sherri Shepherd off The View? 

She should'a been gone the day after she said, live on air, that she wasn't entirely sure that the Earth was round.

Oh, yes she did.

I like Elton John, I do, but there are times when I wish he’d just shut up and sing.

Like last week when he said that Jesus would want The Gays to have the right to marry.

Really, Elton? You know this for a fact? A man that has allegedly been dead for over 2,000 years and you know what he thinks about marriage equality?

Stop. Seriously. Stop.

Speaking of religion, I’ve been wondering about all these religious folks hatin' on The Gays and hatin' on laws that are changing to make The Gays equal. 

If God is Love, shouldn't y'all be more tolerant? And if you believe, as some politicians like Frothy Mix has said, that this country was created by God and that our laws come from God, then doesn’t that mean that all new laws, even those granting equality to The Gays come from God? And if so, shouldn't y'all just shut up and take a seat?

Asking for a friend.

Beyoncé. Meh. 

I mean, I kinda liked her a few years back, but then she seemed to reinvent herself as a high-class stripper, grunting and grinding all over the stage while a wind machine attacks her weave.

And now she has a new look: a body suit with the butt cheeks cut out.

Get on the pole already, girl, I hear Cheetahs is looking for fresh meat.

How can it be that pulling a nose hair out is the most painful thing I've ever experienced?

So, last night we wondered what to watch on TV and I had DVRd TNT's new show, The Last Ship, as well as CBS' Under The Dome.
Carlos wasn't feeling very dome-ish, so we opted for The Last Ship.

It should be called The Last Ship of Hot Men. Oy, that's beefcake Travis Van Winkle who obviously buys shirts one size smaller than legally allowed, and Jocko Sims, oozing with sexual heat, and beautiful Commander daddy, Eric Dane.

Yeah, I think we'll keep watching.

Shia LaBeouf was arrested at Cabaret last night and police reported that he was incoherent and disheveled and that he had severe body odor.

No wonder his movies stink. It's not the script; it ain't the acting' it's LaBeouf.

The perfect way to get people to stop talking ... just because?

Hold up the index finger of your left hand and say, "This is my last nerve."

Then take the index finger of your right hand and scratch the index finger of your left hand while saying, "And this is you."

Works every time.

I am not a fast food person; ever. I figure I can get a better meal at a ‘real’ restaurant where the food isn’t frozen and then nuked or super-heated before serving.

Still, I like Burger King’s new Whopper that was unveiled during Pride in San Francisco; a burger wrapped in a rainbow flag paper.

When customers asked what made this Whopper different from a standard-issue burger, they were simply told, “I don’t know.”

But the mystery was revealed once the rainbow-colored wrapper was opened: there was absolutely nothing is different about this burger, nothing at all.

Like it says: “We Are All the Same Inside.”

Ken-freaking-tucky. Where marriage equality arrived this week, though there is a stay on the ruling pending an appeal, but, man oh man, the march is going on.

Maybe, when Carlos and I get married — and we’re doing so this October ... fingers crossed that the plans work out — we might actually be able to do so in South Carolina; it’s all changing so quickly.