Dealing With The Loss Of A Dear Friend

The untimely passing of a good friend is never an easy thing.  Until it happens to us, we usually don't realize what a profound effect it will have on our lives.  It is always a great shock.  Not only that, it's also an event that tends to put a lot of things into perspective in very short order.  It is only when this kind of loss occurs that we are truly shown how fragile life can be...how quickly it can be lost.  Our daily lives often get so busy, and we encounter so many distractions, that we sometimes forget how vitally important it is to appreciate the little things that we are given.  I have always wondered why it is that it takes a sad occasion like this to remind us that we must savor each experience and enjoy every single moment of this life as if it were our last.

I had a jarring reminder of these truths when I lost my dear friend Ginger at the age of sixty-one.  Her death came on January 6, 2008, after a long and difficult illness.  Although everyone around her knew that it was inevitable given the circumstances, we were still completely devastated and unprepared for her loss.  As most people usually do in these cases, we were clinging blindly to the hope...no matter how delusional it may have been...that she would somehow beat the odds and make some kind of miraculous recovery; if there ever was anyone who could have beaten the odds, it would most certainly have been her!  Right up until the moment that she drew her final breath, all of her friends held that belief wholeheartedly; and I'd have to say that it was Ginger herself who inspired that faith, and her magnificent attitude that continued to fuel it each and every day.

When I learned of Ginger's passing three days after it happened, I think I was the most surprised of all.  The idea that I was never going to see her again was just so surreal to me, which I guess is a normal reaction to such news.  My brain just couldn't seem to wrap itself around the information.  I had, after all, spoken to her on the phone just a few short days earlier, and she hadn't seemed any better or worse than usual.  In other words, she seemed like the same old Ginger.  I knew that she was ill, but there was nothing in her tone or demeanor to suggest that her condition had taken such a dramatic turn for the worse.  In fact, it had seemed to me that she was a bit more energetic than usual, but maybe it only seemed that way to me because I had not been around her on a daily basis.

It took a while for the news to sink in.  As it did, I slowly retreated into my memories.  I had saved many keepsakes through the years...every photo, letter, e-mail, or gift that we had ever exchanged, and I spent the entire night going through each and every single saved item.  Each one held a precious moment.  I remembered her outrageous sense of humor, and every one of the many laughs we shared.  In fact, I'd have to say that in the twenty years I knew her, Ginger probably made me laugh more than any other friend I've had.  She had a habit of being relentless when it came to humor; once she had you laughing, she'd continue to repeat the joke, adding to it as she went.  She'd make it more exaggerated and outrageous with each telling, ensuring that her audience would be breathless and in stitches! 

I remembered the hours upon hours we spent enjoying long, satisfying heart-to-heart talks.  She was one of those rare people who had a way of putting you at ease.  You could talk to her about absolutely anything without fear of being judged.  Her advice was always helpful to me.  The wisdom and insight that she had to offer could always be depended upon to provide the answer to any problem I may have brought to her.  I remembered sharing my creative work with her; she was always my best critic...not to mention my strongest supporter.  She shared my taste in music, and my love for all things creative; she always encouraged and inspired me.  She was forever telling me that I should always follow my dreams no matter what.  In short, I remembered every one of a million ineffable little qualities that made her so beloved to all who knew her.

I could probably write volumes trying to relate every scene that came flooding back to me as I sat looking at old photos and rereading old letters.  There they were...twenty years worth of memories sitting before me.  There were so many things I had forgotten about, and I couldn't help but smile as I was reminded of them.  In an odd way, it was sort of like watching home movies or something.  I was reliving every crazy, wonderful moment all over again.  I saw the strange looks and surprised reactions that we often got whenever we were in public, and shared a private joke that no one else got.  I guess most people just didn't share our love for weird, ironic humor and over-the-top sarcasm.  Like the time that we took Ginger's car to her mechanic to be serviced.  I still laugh out loud at the memory of this day!  Here's what happened...

Ginger had been living in Oklahoma helping to care for her sister who was ill with cancer.  She was planning a trip back there after her visit home, and wanted to make sure that her car was in shape for the trip.  While waiting for the repairs to be completed, we were inside talking with her friends, and I excused myself to go to the restroom.  As I was making my way toward it, I took a tumble, and Ginger quickly ran to my assistance.  When she reached down and attempted to help me up off the floor, I waved her hand away and sarcastically shouted: “Oh, get away from me, you dried up old bat!”  This was something that I said to her in jest quite often, so we both burst into fits of hysterical laughter, secure in the knowledge that this insult was meant affectionately.  We were laughing so hard that it took me nearly ten minutes to get myself up off the floor.  Her friends, however, were less amused; their mouths dropped open and their eyes grew wide with shock!  They were completely appalled that I could react so rudely to this attempt at kindness, but their indignant reaction only made us laugh harder!

The truly funny part about situations like these is that they were never planned.  They just seem to happen to us naturally; we didn't even have to try hard to end up in these predicaments!  In fact, we got caught in a similar misunderstanding about two weeks later.  We were returning from our trip to Oklahoma.  We were about halfway home, when Ginger decided that we'd better stop for gas.  So we stopped at the next available opportunity, and I went in to use the restroom, and get us some sodas and snacks since we had about four more hours to drive.  Just as I was approaching the counter, Ginger came in to pay for the gas, and as I had done many times in the past, I said to her in a very annoyed tone: “Why are you following me? What did I ever do to you? For the love of God, will you just leave me alone!”  As she usually did, Ginger appeared to be shocked, and feigned complete innocence.  We must have been very convincing, because the poor cashier had a “deer in the headlights” reaction!  She was actually about to call the police when we let her off the hook!  Fortunately, she took the whole thing like a good sport, while Ginger and I got back in the car laughing our heads off!  I'm sure that everyone else around us probably thought that we were crazy that day, but to us it was completely hilarious!

Moments like these were typical of Ginger's brand of humor!  In fact, her sense of humor was such that she didn't even mind making herself the butt of the joke.  She loved to poke fun at herself in a good-natured way.  She loved making people laugh, even if it was at her expense.  She never hesitated to share even her most embarrassing moments if she thought it would make someone laugh!  Even a simple night out with Ginger could easily become a memorable event, as in the case of the casino incident, which I described in my essay entitled “Learning To Cope With Terminal Illness,” which I wrote about the aforementioned trip to Oklahoma that I took with Ginger in 1996.  You'll have to refer to that piece for the full story of this evening, but let's just say that she had a tiny fixation with parking spaces!

That is the nature of the friendship that we had; no matter what happened or what was said, we knew that we would always be there for each other, and we were!  Ginger was truly one of a kind, and I considered her one of the dearest friends that I've ever had in my life.  I sincerely hope that everyone on this planet gets the chance to experience a friendship as wonderful and fulfilling as the one that I had with her.  It enriched my life in more ways than I could ever begin to express!

Although I miss Ginger more than words could ever say, I will not weep for the loss.  To this day, I have not shed a single tear, because that is the way that she would have wanted it.  Ginger was all about spreading joy and making people laugh.  I know that she wouldn't want anyone to have tears in their eyes when they were remembering her.  Besides, I still have all of these reminders, and the memories that they hold.  That will be enough to sustain me until our paths cross again!

Learning To Cope With Terminal Illness

I have often heard people speak of angels on earth.  Whenever they do, they always seem to tell this really heart-warming story about someone who has done something wonderful for them that completely changed the entire course of their lives.  I guess you could say that this is one of those stories.  You see, being a very Spiritual person, I have always believed in angels, and in their presence among us.  I even felt that I had experienced manifestations of that presence many times... or at least, that's what I thought.  However, I was proven wrong when my life was changed forever by the experience which I am about to relate here.  That was when I learned the true meaning of that phrase.

This wonderful story began shortly before Christmas of 1996, when I received a telephone call from my good friend, Ginger.  She had phoned to let me know that she was going to be coming home to Missouri from Oklahoma.  She had been living there for the previous ten months, helping to care for her sister, Wilma, who had been ill with breast cancer.  At the time, I was only vaguely acquainted with Wilma.  I had heard Ginger tell the story of how she and Wilma met many times.  Ginger shared with me that she had been given up for adoption by her natural mother, so at first she had not been aware that she even had a sister.  Then, when she learned that she did have biological siblings, she began trying to track them down, and found Wilma.  She told me that after finding each other in 1976, they had become acquainted by writing letters to one another daily.  Once they were in contact with one another they became very close in a short time, and remained so from that point on.  She had told me all of this long before ever finding out that Wilma was ill.  So naturally, when she heard that Wilma was ill, all she could think of was trying to help in whatever way she could.  She decided that in order to do that, she needed to be near her; so she put her own life on hold indefinitely, and made the move to Oklahoma!

I really hated the idea of being separated from Ginger, but I completely understood her desire to be there for her sister.  I did, however, keep in close touch with her throughout her stay in Oklahoma.  We wrote letters, and I would call her there often.  On some of these occasions, Wilma would answer the phone, so I would speak to her briefly while I was waiting for Ginger to come to the phone.  Mostly, we just made small talk about nothing in particular.  This is how she and I got acquainted.  But aside from those short conversations, my only knowledge of Wilma was acquired from the stories that Ginger told me about her.  So, needless to say, I was extremely shocked when Ginger told me that Wilma wanted to meet me in person.  I did not understand the reason for this request; it concerned me a little, so I asked Ginger about it.  When I did, she said to me: "Oh, I have told Wilma all about you and our friendship, and about the experiences that you and I have shared."

She went on to explain that when she'd moved to Oklahoma, she had taken along several picture frames, each filled with many photos of all her friends.  She also said that she and Wilma had spent many hours looking at the photos together as she explained who each friend was, and told Wilma all about the experiences that she'd had with each person.  While that certainly explained how Wilma had come to know me so well, I still didn't understand why she wanted to meet me in person.  It completely blew my mind to think that I barely knew this woman, but somehow, I had managed to make such an impact on her that it was one of her dying requests to meet me.  Let me tell you, unless that experience has happened to you before, you could never even begin to understand how profoundly moving it is.

Anyway, knowing that Ginger was planning a trip back to Missouri, Wilma asked her to find out if I would mind coming with her when she returned to Oklahoma after her visit.  I agreed, and Ginger came home for her visit about a week later.  Since we were in the midst of the holiday season, her plan was to spend a brief time with her family members in St. Louis before returning to Wilma's side.  Wilma's illness had progressed to the point where everyone knew that her death wasn't going to be that far off.  She had told Ginger to go back home and go on with her life, but Ginger still felt the need to be there for her; she was determined to see her sister through this to the very end.  So about a week after she got home, Ginger returned to Oklahoma, and I went back with her so that I could meet Wilma as she had requested...or more accurately, so that Wilma could meet me.  I had no idea what to expect.  I only knew that, apparently, Wilma's desire to meet me was based on the impression of me that she had gotten from all of the stories that Ginger had told her about me.  Little did I know that the events which were about to take place would change my life in a most phenomenal way.

We arrived in Oklahoma on a Thursday night in late January of 1997...I believe it was the 23rd, although my memory is a bit fuzzy on that, so I could be mistaken.  Regardless, my first meeting with Wilma was a moment that I will remember vividly for the rest of my life.  I can still remember the anticipation I felt as I stepped onto the porch, about to enter the house.  I was very nervous.  By the time we got there, Wilma had already been bedridden for quite some time.  She had been receiving Hospice care, and they had supplied a hospital bed which had been placed in the living room for her, so that she could still interact with friends and family as much as she was able to.  We entered the room and walked over to the side of her bed, where Ginger introduced me to her.  I reached out to take her hand, and as she placed her hand in mine, I remember thinking that her skin was the softest thing I had ever felt before.  Then, she said hello and smiled at me.  And I have to say honestly that she was the first person I have ever met whose smile truly did light up the room.  I have heard that said about many people, but in this case, it is absolutely true.  When she smiled, you could just see her Spirit shining out of her.  For me, that smile alone was worth the entire eight hour trip.  And that moment was made even more significant in light of the fact that it was one of the last lucid moments of Wilma's life.

We stayed in Oklahoma for a total of five days, and in that short period of time, I came to realize that Wilma was one of the most gentle, caring, and absolutely selfless people I had ever known.  This was a fact that was most clearly illustrated to me on the second morning of our visit.  Wilma had had a particularly uncomfortable night the night before, but in spite of what she was going through, she was much more worried about my welfare as her guest than she was about herself and her situation.  This moved me more than I could ever begin to express with words.  I mean, here she was lying on her deathbed, her body being traumatized by the most horrific pain that a human being could ever possibly experience, and she was more concerned about whether or not I had slept well, or if I had eaten breakfast that morning.  But that is the kind of a person that she was.  She always put everybody else's needs ahead of her own.

That being said, I am reminded of another story which will further illustrate just how selfless Wilma really was.  This one takes place about four months before Ginger and I made the January trip to Oklahoma.  See, I had actually scheduled a trip to go and visit Ginger there for the entire week of September 8, 1996.  Ginger and I had spoken on the phone many times about this visit, and we were both very excited about it because we had not seen each other in person since Ginger had left Missouri.  We had made many plans which, among other things, included going to a KISS concert on September 11, 1996, in Oklahoma City.  In fact, Ginger had already purchased our tickets for the show.  So I packed my bags, bought a plane ticket, and was ready to go off and have the great time that both Ginger and I had anticipated.

Unfortunately, things didn't quite turn out that way.  The day before I was supposed to leave, I got a phone call from Ginger saying that our visit would have to be canceled.  It seems that the family was having some difficulties, (both financial, and otherwise), and they really were in no shape to be entertaining guests.  Still, I know in my heart of hearts that if the decision had been left up to Wilma, she would have just let me come for the visit, and she would have tried to make the best of the situation because she did not want to spoil all the plans that Ginger and I had made.  It was Ginger who had to cancel the trip, so that I would not be visiting at a bad time.  Honestly, I could fill an entire volume with the acts of kindness that I witnessed from Wilma in just that brief of a time!  It saddens me that I never got to thank her for the effect that her kindness had on me.

Although she never knew it, Wilma was also a huge help to me in another way as well.  My family and I are no strangers to cancer ourselves; we've lost several family members to various forms of the disease.  I have always deeply regretted the fact that I did not visit my family very much at the very end of their lives.  I mean, I did pay my respects by attending their funerals and all that, but I just couldn't stand to watch their health deteriorate at the end.  I know that sounds horribly selfish, but it's true.  Because I have carried that regret for so long, I was doubly grateful for the opportunity to be there with Wilma.  As I was sitting at her bedside praying, I felt as if she had given me the chance to make up for my past mistakes, and I have always wished that I could have thanked her for that beautiful gift!  It was a great help in healing from the grief of my own loss.

Sitting with Wilma in her last moments did more than just help me over my grief, though.  It also helped me to release many of the fears that had kept me from being there for my own family members.  She approached her death with such dignity and courage; it was amazing to witness.  There were many moments when all that I could do was look at her and marvel at the strength of her Spirit.  Even in her weakened state, her Spirit shone blindingly.  I could see this beautiful, golden glow of Divinity around her head.  I wish that I could describe it here, but it really defies all description.  You would have had to see it to understand what I was talking about.  Even though I never really got to know Wilma on an intimate basis as a truly close friend, I could just intuitively feel the goodness in her Soul as I sat with her in silence.

Another of her many outstanding qualities that I admired was her great sense of humor.  Again, this was something that I never got to witness for myself, so I have had to rely on Ginger's many stories, as well as the many photographs that she has shown me which depict Wilma in different humorous situations.  But if you, the reader, could see these photos, you would see that Wilma's sense of humor is clearly evident in each and every one of them.

I usually don't like to pass on second hand stories, but this one made me laugh so hard that I can't resist.  As I was learning about Wilma's sense of humor through Ginger, I can remember one photo in particular that absolutely made me howl with laughter when she showed it to me.  The photo showed Wilma wearing a comically over-padded bra on top of her night shirt, and a huge silly grin on her face.  The photo became even more hilarious when Ginger explained the circumstances of the moment that it was taken.

She explained that this photo had been taken just shortly after Wilma had had her double mastectomy.  Wilma's husband believed that he could somehow make her feel better about the loss of her breasts by surprising her with "a hand-made bra of his own design."  Unfortunately he over-padded it just a bit, making it appear about three sizes larger than Wilma's own breasts had been before the operation!  When Wilma came home from the hospital, he presented this "gift" to her proudly!  Ginger said that she truly did appreciate the thought behind his effort, so, not wanting to hurt his feelings, she accepted it, and thanked him politely.  However, as soon as her husband left the house to run an errand, Wilma turned to Ginger, and said: "Obviously, he either remembers my breasts much differently than they actually were, or else it is simply wishful thinking on his part!"  She and Ginger laughed their heads off over this, and then Wilma put the bra on over her nightshirt, and allowed Ginger to snap the photograph of her making fun of herself.  It was hilarious to me, too.  I laughed so hard that my sides quickly began to ache, and in between fits of laughter, I remember thinking how great and inspiring it was that even in spite of all that had happened her, Wilma could still find things to laugh about.  I know how very important it is that the patient keeps their Spirits up in situations like these, and Wilma surely did just that.

Further evidence of Wilma's incredible sense of humor came to me after her passing, and I feel that it bears mentioning here.  After she passed in February of 1997, Ginger and I spoke of her often.  We had many conversations remembering her, and the time that we spent with her during this trip.  In one of these conversations, Ginger has told me how much Wilma used to enjoy hearing the stories of all the silly things that she and I had done together.  She said that Wilma's favorite story about us...the one that made her laugh the hardest...was about one of the frequent trips to the casino that Ginger and I had made together.  On this particular occasion, we were in the parking lot, and it was very crowded.  At first, Ginger had planned to let me out at the door, and then park the car.  However, on outings with Ginger, things rarely worked out exactly as we planned; that was one of the things that made life with her so much fun; we could always laugh about the unplanned mishaps!

Despite all of our good intentions, here's what actually ended up happening.  We were driving down one aisle of the lot on our way to the door, when out of the corner of her eye, Ginger spotted someone starting to pull out of a parking slot.  Determined to get the spot before anyone else, she started screaming at me to get out of the car as fast as I could.  In all my life I have never heard anything else quite like the tone of her voice in that precise moment.  It was the voice of a possessed woman on a mission!  I attempted to do as she asked, but was not fast enough.  She started shouting at me to hurry up, her voice becoming almost a growl.  I threw open my door as she came to a very brief stop, and swung my feet out.  I barely had enough time to even get my crutches out of the car, let alone put them on my arms so I could walk.  I had them in my hand when she suddenly started to move, not even giving me time to close the door!  Then her son, Paul, who was riding in the back seat, was forced to dive over the front seat in a frantic attempt to get the door closed!  Meanwhile, I was left to hobble to the door with my crutches in my hand!  I teased Ginger about that mercilessly until the day she passed away herself in 2008. I used to tell her all the time that she always made me feel so loved!  According to Ginger, Wilma found this story hysterical, and would laugh uncontrollably every time she heard it.  And of course, each time that Wilma laughed at the story, Ginger would tell it again, making the details even more exaggerated for comic effect.  This is typical of Gingers sense of humor; she'll do anything to get a laugh... and of course, it works every time!

It has always made me feel good that our little adventure gave Wilma that gift of laughter.  I bet that as she sat there laughing at that story, she never would have dreamed in a million years that she'd have the chance to experience Ginger's obsession with parking spaces for herself, but indeed, she did.  You see, Ginger often drove Wilma to her doctor and hospital appointments for chemotherapy and radiation treatments and the like.  It was on one of these doctor visits that Wilma saw this for herself.  She and Ginger were pulling into the hospital's parking garage for one of Wilma's final radiation treatments, when again, Ginger spotted an open space.  She gunned her motor, determined to snag it.  In the process, she ran over a curb, drove through a chain that was across the parking lot entrance, and came very close to lightly grazing a cement column.  Ginger said that Wilma grabbed the dashboard in a frantic attempt to steady herself, and her eyes widened until it seemed that they were going to pop out of their sockets.  Then, after Ginger had stopped the car and she'd had time to regain her composure, she turned to Ginger as they were walking into the hospital, and said: "Now I know how poor Randy must have felt!"  Ginger, of course, busted a gut laughing at that.

My final memory in all of my experiences with Wilma is a much more somber one, though.  This one took place on the day before Ginger and I left there to come back home to St. Louis.  The priest from Wilma's church stopped over to say a prayer for her.  As everyone stood around silently with their heads bowed in prayer, I remember sensing this incredible feeling of peace around the room.  And a moment or two later, I felt the unmistakable presence of The Lord in the room.  He was standing at the left side of Wilma's bed, looking down at her.  Even though He never spoke a word, I know that He was telling her not to fear what was to come, and assuring her that she would soon be at home with Him in Peace and Glory.  I believe that His presence there was twofold.  Not only was He there to guide Wilma home, but also to gently remind all of us that He is still there watching over us, and that He is still The Master of all our lives.

I'm sure you can understand why this trip was an experience that I will not soon forget.  Now, that I look back on the whole thing, I definitely think that I was sent to meet Wilma so that I could be taught a very valuable lesson about courage.  I learned what the phrase "angel on earth" truly means.  I was also reminded of something that all of us should know, something that we all-too-often forget, and that is this: don't be deceived by appearances, because the angel that you've spent so long searching for may have been walking right beside you your whole life!

A Humorous Look At Gay Life In Cyberspace

I have always been a fan of ironic humor, so I guess it should come as no surprise that I now find so much of it in my life journey as a gay man.  The difficulties that I experienced in coming to terms with my orientation have been well documented in my past articles; there is no need to rehash them here.  The process of becoming comfortable with my orientation was such a nightmare for me in so many ways that I never thought I would ever be able to see anything humorous about it.  Now that I have made peace with my identity, I can say that it is very gratifying to have reached a place in my life where I can find humor in my gay experience.  Now that I look back on that whole period of time though, I see that there was so much humor in all of it that I was blind to at the time.  Seeing that humor in hindsight has reminded me that there really is joy and laughter in all things, if you will only look in the right places; it is all a matter of perspective.

Nowhere is this humor more evident than on the Internet.  I'd like to illustrate this point by sharing a few of my own online experiences.  I have been a member of several friendship and chat sites for years; I have profiles on Myspace, Friendster, and a slew of others.  On every single one of them, it states very clearly that I am a gay man.  There are also many rainbow backgrounds and other gay pride materials which should give sufficient clues as to my orientation.  I have noticed lately that in spite of all of this, a large majority of the messages and friend invites that I receive are from straight women wanting to entice me into subscribing to some adult service, or inviting me to have cyber-sex on webcam.  I have to admit that I find the irony of this totally hilarious!  I get more attention from women as a gay man than I probably would have ever gotten if I were straight!

I mean, don't get me wrong...I certainly realize that I am not the only one to receive these spam e-mails.  I also realize that most of the time these messages are sent out blindly in bulk, and they usually don't even bother to read the profiles.  However, that makes it even funnier in my eyes.  I mean, most of these ladies work for straight adult sites, and yet they write to gay men.  I guess they could use a few business lessons on how to effectively locate and sell to their target market!

Not only do I receive a larger number of these spam messages since identifying myself as gay, but I have also received a very large number of letters from real women who are looking to meet someone!  I used to write them back and try to explain in a polite and kind way.  Now, I don't even respond anymore.  It's not that I'm trying to be rude, I just get too many to answer.  I figure that the information is there on the profile in black and white; it's not my fault if they don't see it.

In fact, I actually had one woman who wrote to me so many times that I finally had to block her.  She was constantly writing to ask why I never responded; didn't I find her attractive?  I was absolutely dumbfounded! HELLO...look at my profile!  Can you read?  Do you speak English?  Apparently, you seem to have a bit of trouble grasping the meaning of the word homosexual, so please allow me to enlighten you!  This means that I am attracted to and sleep with men exclusively!  So unless you are about six-foot-two with broad shoulders, a hairy chest, and bulging biceps, you only have two chances at catching my eye: slim and none!

Please do not be offended by this; I promise, it's nothing personal.  I have no doubt that you are a very lovely woman, and I assure you that this has absolutely nothing to do with your looks, your femininity, or your womanhood.  If you would like to be my friend, I would be all for that.  However, if you are looking for anything more than friendship, you are barking up the wrong tree, plain and simple!

The whole experience has started me thinking about something that has always been a complete mystery to me.  I will never understand why so many straight women out there seem to see it as their duty to “change” us gay guys.  It seems to be sort of like a quest for them or something.  It is always the same line: “Oh, you're not really gay, you just haven't met the right woman yet!”  Believe me, ladies, we have all heard that line so often that we can recite it in practiced unison while simultaneously rolling our eyes in exasperation!

In fact, this seems to be a mystery to most gay men.  We have been trying to figure this out for years, and we have yet to arrive at a satisfactory answer to the question!  It just seems so sad to think that women like these are wasting their feminine wiles in the futile pursuit of gay men, when there are so many deserving straight men who would revel in their attentions!  When will the ever learn, the poor dears...

Humorous Observations: Using Proper Ettiquette In The Men's Room

Since I believe that education is the key to removing barriers between people, no matter what said barriers may be, I have bravely chosen to put my membership in the man club at risk.  In an attempt to help everyone better understand the men in their lives, I will now reveal a few of the most carefully guarded secrets of mandom, by addressing the often misunderstood topic of men's room etiquette.

Of course, I realize that this noble effort will probably go unrecognized and unrewarded until long after I am dead and gone, but I will not be deterred.  I'm used to being unappreciated; I am a man, after all.  But if I can successfully impart this knowledge to even one person, then my job is done; my sacrifice won't have been in vain!

Learning proper etiquette at the urinal has become a proud tradition, lovingly passed down from father to son.  It begins as soon as one is old enough walk into a public men's room.  For years, men have been trained from boyhood to strictly observe an unwritten, but vitally important set of guidelines which govern the use of our porcelain pal.  Below, you will find a brief but concise explanation of the rules that must be adhered to.  Before proceeding, however, the uninitiated should be warned that failure to comply with each and every rule can often have disastrous results, so please study them carefully.

The first rule is: no eye contact.  For your own safety, please keep your eyes forward at all times; nobody likes a peeker.  Besides, peeking can sometimes lead to severe insecurities requiring years of expensive therapy, so play it safe; don't look!  After that, the next rule that should be observed is spacing.  The privacy of your fellow restroom patrons is of utmost importance!  Please ensure that their is adequate distance between you and the other urinal users.  When in doubt, it is wise to use the "boy-urinal-boy-urinal" technique as a rule of thumb.  However, there are some instances when the restroom is too crowded to allow for proper spacing.  When you encounter this problem, it is best to make your way to the stalls and use a traditional toilet.

Also, a controlled stream is very much appreciated; please make sure to aim carefully and remain stationary throughout the entire process.  Always keep in mind that sloppy technique not only creates a bad experience for you, but for all who enter the restroom after you as well, so please observe common courtesy.  Most importantly, please remember to carefully shake; we all know that dribbling leads to embarrassment later!

Another thing that should be noted is that even though it is not prohibited in every case, conversation is not wise...unless, of course, you enjoy having insults hurled at you that would make Richard Pryor blush!  Most consider it disturbing and awkward at this very vulnerable moment, and it will almost always earn you their wrath.  If you simply must engage in conversation, it is best to wait until your fellow urinal user has stepped away to the sinks to wash his hands.  Of course, there are a few exceptions to this; for example, if the person next to you is a very good friend with whom you are comfortable and have had a long history, conversation may come easier. Generally, however, it should be avoided whenever possible.

And last but not least, please...I implore you, if you have a shred of decency in your soul, do not talk on your mobile phone while using the urinal.  Contrary to what some guys seem to think, taking a whiz should never be a shared experience; that's just entirely too weird!  Heck, even if you put the weirdness factor aside, cell phones in the restroom are still a hazard.  Of course, knowing most guys, they won't believe that until they have looked down to find that their beloved Blackberry is quickly being washed out to sea, while the poor confused person on the other end of the line helplessly gurgles up at them that they can't understand what is being said!

Well, I think that just about covers everything.  Now, I offer you the chance to take the knowledge that I have given you, and put it to use.  Go forth, my fellow urinal users; carry these wise words out into all the world, and make every public restroom a safe and happy place for all humanity!