Down to Earth Dave’s Post for Today–October 10

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

Usually, I write my blogs in the morning; it’s just after 5 pm, I’m sipping cold green tea on the patio, and the Pomeranians are meandering about, pleased to enjoy some time outside on a pleasant fall afternoon.  Monday’s decision by the Supreme Court against hearing appeals of Circuit Court decisions declaring the anti-same sex marriage laws of various states to be unconstitutional has caused quite the buzz.  North Carolina is poised to join the ranks of the majority of states and honor the wishes of loving couples regardless of the gender of each who wish to be married.  And what is NC’s Speaker of the House (and Republican candidate for US Senate) doing?  Spending public funds in a desperate effort to prevent the inevitable.

wrongwaytillis  Sometimes, a picture really is worth a thousand words.

Tomorrow is the annual national Coming Out Day.  I have been fairly open about my sexuality since 2004, but I guess I blew the door off the hinges back in 2012.  I was enduring a lot of personal challenges and decided that I just wasn’t going to deal with anything else.  If people rejected me because of my orientation, then it was their loss.  I had downloaded a copy of the soundtrack from La Cage Aux Folles and kept playing “I Am What I Am” over and over while on the subway.  I can’t help it–I have it playing as I type this, and while I hope to be around for many years to come, when my time arrives to move on to the next existence, I hope a gay chorale will sing this at my memorial.

A delightful couple in Manhattan, Michael and Ethan, compose a blog called Vegan Mos.  I was particularly moved by their latest entry–Coming Out Gay, Coming Out Vegan.  I believe I shared with you earlier that one of my pleasant surprises about being back in Ayden, NC is that there is more acceptance of being gay than before.  It ain’t NYC, but it’s better.  What does draw blank or befuddled expressions is telling people I’m vegan.  Most folks here just don’t understand adopting a compassionate lifestyle that respects the rights of all sentient beings and thereby not eating other animals or their secretions.  I can’t wait until next Saturday when I encourage people to eat with compassion as they’re en route to the St. Timothy’s Lobster Fair.  Talk about your misnomers.  There’s not a damned thing fair about it to the lobsters.  I received excellent advice from fellow vegan Matthew Sikora, who suggests to all that if they distinguish the rights of some animals to live free from worry of pain and suffering for the sake of the human palate, then they’ve already begun the journey to being vegan.  Matthew is the one who suggested I read Eat Like You Care–excellent advice which I share with you as well.

Well, on to check to see if any rulings have been made for marriage equality in the Old North State and then to make a simple Tuscan white bean and kale soup.  Peace.  Namaste, Kumbaya!

Be kind to yourself.  Be kind to the planet and the future.  Cause no suffering.  Go Vegan!


Gentle Reader:  Literally, within minutes of publishing this blog, the news came in.  Marriage Equality has arrived in NC!  Huzzah!!!!

Down to Earth Dave’s Post of the Day–October 3

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

Some of you are aware that each Friday, I send out a joke to almost 300 people.  The jokes are often corny, sometimes a little bawdy, but never unsuitable for work.  I do occasionally send out some not suitable for work, but those go to the “Special Reserve List”.  Here’s today’s joke:

When everybody on earth was dead and waiting to enter Heaven, God appeared and said, “I want the men to make two lines. One line for the men who were true heads of their household, and the other line for the men who were dominated by their women. I want all the women to report to St. Peter.”
Soon, the women were gone to St. Peter, and there were two lines of men. The line of the men who were dominated by their wives was 100 miles long, but in the line for those who truly were heads of their household, there was only one man.
God said to the long line, “You men should be ashamed of yourselves; I created you to be the head of your household! You have been disobedient and have not fulfilled your purpose! Of all of you, only one obeyed. Learn from him.”
God turned to the one man, “How did you manage to be the only one in this line?”
The man replied, “My wife told me to stand here.”

The “Friday nyuk, nyuk” began in August 2004 and has run since then.  Oh, there have been a few missed weeks, and I had decided to stop it a few years ago, but after receiving several inquiries about why I had stopped, I resumed.  Why do I do it?  I don’t know.  Maybe it’s because I’m a ham.  Maybe it’s because I see a weekly joke as a means of letting a lot of people know that I think of them.  Perhaps it’s a way to fulfill one of my basic credos:  Live in such a way help at least one person smile and/or laugh each day.”

Recently I met someone at Cindirene’s of Ayden.  It’s really a cool place.  Chuck Dunn, the proprietor, has established a very nice wine and beer shop that has both on and off site licensing.  I told a joke to the person who laughed and replied, “I know it’s horrible, but I still love Helen Keller jokes.”  Naturally, we proceeded to tell some.  The winner:

Q: Why doesn’t Helen Keller drive?

A: Because she’s dead.

I know.  It’s horrible.  Admit it, though, you smiled.  And if you smiled, I’ve met my quota for today. HK Dog

Be kind to yourself.  Be kind to the planet and the future. Cause no suffering.  Go Vegan!


Down To Earth Dave’s Post of the Day–September 29

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

I suppose I should be fair to the gods of accuracy and find a new moniker for this blog.  I haven’t posted with a frequency anywhere close to “daily” in months.  I’d consider that, perhaps, time and circumstance have diminished my pomp and circumstance.  Consideration over.  Not for a New York minute is that the case–even a New York minute here in Ayden, NC.

The adjustment from life in The City to life in The Town continues–sometimes smoothly, sometimes not so much.  Part of that is that my employment situation hasn’t panned out the way I anticipated.  I’ve recently begun searching the various sources of employment opportunities to see what might be available.  It’s simultaneously thrilling, daunting, and frustrating.  One thing is certain:  a sense of tenacity is critical for success in most aspects of living.  I was asked by one potential employer what I could bring to his company.  My answer:  follow through, follow through, follow through.  I left the series of interviews feeling upbeat, and I followed through with the thank you note.  So far, I haven’t heard anything back, so the search continues.

To complicate the situation, I know that Black Dog of Depression keeps wanting to trot alongside Heidi and JonJon on our walks.  I’ve sent Black Dog away, but she keeps returning, begging for attention and a biscuit.  Service to others has been my best defense against Black Dog.  He hates it when I focus on others and not myself.  All I know is this: my life is shaped in service to others and has been for a long time.  Don’t mistake me: I have my flaws, plenty of them, and I’m aware of them.  I try to diminish them by turning them over to a power higher than myself and by helping others.  From the time I first read the Prayer of St. Francis, I sensed a power that can only be found in selflessness.

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
It is in dying to self that we are born to eternal life.

“Be the person I want to see in the world beside me” is my motivation.  It is hardly surprising, that of the passages of the Bible, which I read figuratively, not literally, there’s one passage that I take as absolute:  “The first is this:  love God with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength.  The second is likewise:  love your neighbor as yourself.  On these two hang all the laws and the prophets.”

I read in an article this morning that the Southern Baptist Convention has expelled from its body New Heart Community Church of McKinleyville, CA.  Why?  Because the congregation has elected to welcome LGBT members into its midst and leave the theology of same sex relations to individuals.  In a blistering blog criticizing New Heart, noted Southern Baptist theologian Albert Mohler wrote: “Several years ago, I made that argument and was assailed by many on the left as being ‘reductionistically binary.’ But, the issue is binary. A church will recognize same-sex relationships, or it will not. A congregation will teach a biblical position on the sinfulness of same-sex acts, or it will affirm same-sex behaviors as morally acceptable. Ministers will perform same-sex ceremonies, or they will not.”  Actually, I agree with Mohler on this.  We just disagree on the “sanctity” of same-sex relationships.  In my opinion, it’s not a question of gender, it’s a question of respect and love.  That’s right–that second commandment about loving your neighbor…

Why can’t I just be a guru? guru


Be kind to yourself.  Be kind to the planet and the future.  Cause no suffering.  Go Vegan!

Down to Earth Dave’s Post of the Day–September 9

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

Greetings from eastern NC–Ayden, NC, to be precise. Ayden is the town of my adolescence, teen years, and early adulthood. To borrow from Harper Lee, Ayden is rather like Macomb, Alabama in To Kill A Mockingbird, or at least among many of the long-term citizens here. There has been some influx of artists, and that’s a positive thing. Ayden’s downtown, while not dead, is in ICU–and perhaps that’s where this NYC-loving, out and proud vegan gay dad, might just be able to offer some service to this town. Maybe I can be a catalyst or spark to generate new life into downtown Ayden.

Maybe not. But I am trying.

Leaving New York was tough.  Very tough.

Leaving New York was tough. Very tough. If you’ve read this blog before, you know that Milton Glaser could easily have been writing for me when he came up with the “I (heart) NY” logo. The truth was, though, that I missed my daughter. She missed me. My visions of romance with the Captain went unfulfilled, and in all honesty–I stopped trying to truly succeed at real estate rentals. I was diving headfirst into the lake of self-pity and resentment. For someone who also has compulsive tendencies, self-pity and resentment are gigantic no-no’s.

Moving back hasn’t been easy. I’m in my childhood home, which has stood unoccupied for seven years. I just had to have the entire plumbing system replaced–the old galvanized pipes were 80 years old and too small to accommodate a new tankless water heater. Yes, the old water heater had gone kaput, and for about a month, I took cold showers unless I was visiting my sister or niece. (That wasn’t so bad–those cold showers–since there are no immediate prospects for platonic dates, much less romantic ones.) My mom is a collector. The problem is, she has few boundaries on what she collects but some serious boundaries on what she’ll release–even though she doesn’t live here. I have had to get behind the wheel again. Oh, I ride my bicycle as much as possible, but beyond that, I’m enslaved to driving. Give me the crowded, smelly subways of NYC any day.

But, Heidi and JonJon enjoy going outside in their own yard, not restricted to a leash.Poms Mom’s grapevines produced a bounty of Concord grapes this summer, and a good crop of Scuppernongs is ripening now. As I grew hot from work in the yard or inside, I could take a break, go pick a couple of handfuls of grapes, and savor that sweet gift that tasted so good and also restored my energy. I ride my bike a lot more here. I’m getting to have fun of scrambling the minds of people who have never even heard the word “vegan”, much less considered the possibility of not consuming animals or their secretions. I am reconnecting with friends. I’m making my way back into town–attending at least part of Ayden’s Small Town Main Street meeting tonight (a task force of the Chamber of Commerce that seeks to revitalize downtown) and audition for a part in an upcoming production of Proof, presented by the Ayden Community Theatre.

And I see Noelle often. Do I really need anything else?On top of Ayden

Down to Earth Dave’s Post of the Day–July 11

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

No, I haven’t been in a coma or worse.  I have been living mindfully and have truly been busy.  Still, I’ve said often that I would like to resume my blog.Today is one entry, completely whimsical, and offered for nothing more than the opportunity to offer you some humour.  I call it…

The NYC Gay Man’s Guide to the World Cup Finals

Don’t talk about statistics or the fact that Germany annihilated World Cup Host Brazil, while Argentina eliminated The Netherlands on penalty kicks.  If you want to know who to support for the World Cup finals, go to the three L’s:  lyrics, legs, and loftiness.

If you want to know who to support for the World Cup finals, go to the three L’s:  lyrics, legs, and loftiness.

Lyrics:  Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Evita captured the hearts of a generation of theatre goers, and despite Madonna’s tragic film adaptation of it, every self-respecting patron of Marie’s Crisis Cafe can sing “Don’t Cry for me, Argentina” and “Rainbow Tour” in his or her sleep.  Germany fared okay in Cabaret, but for the most part, Germany just doesn’t fare too well in musicals, unless you’re watching Springtime for Hitler.  The true deciding factor, though, goes to Casablanca.  What NYC gay man will ever forget that scene when Paul Henreid as Viktor Laszlo marched down the stairs past the German soldiers singing “Die Wacht am Rhein” and called in the support of the band to drown them out with “La Marseillaise”?

Lyrics:  Advantage -  Argentina

Legs:  Let’s face it, soccer players have some of the best legs in the world.  While beauty may be in the eye of the beholder, my eye is beholding to “The Fatherland.”,,2066546_4,00.jpgGermany


Hmmmm, too close to call.  Let’s check some more.ArgentinaGermany


This one is close, about as close as Argentina’s victory over The Netherlands.  I’m going on initial impression here.

Legs:  Advantage – Germany

Loftiness:  What the hell is “loftiness”, you ask?  Loftiness refers to culture.  Germany has unbeatable beer and crisp Rieslings.  Argentina has…What does Argentina have?  The German flag isn’t too grand…

But check out this festive flag from Argentina!

While neither teams uniforms would catch the eye of either of the Brooks Brothers, they’re pretty fair.

So Germany wins on beer and wine, Argentina wins on the flags, and the uniforms are a tie.

Loftininess:  EVEN

In the end, I think the Unofficial NYC Gay Man’s Guide to the World Cup Finals comes down to this:  Mercedes.  Let’s go, Germany!


Remain calm, and speak well.

Be kind to yourself.  Be kind to the planet and the future.  Cause no suffering.  Go Vegan!






Down to Earth Dave’s Post of the Day–May 19

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

 I’ve shared with you before how much I admire those who recover from various addictions and compulsions through 12-Step Programs. While I don’t know this to be factual, I’m confident in saying that most, if not all, 12-Step meetings begin with the Serenity Prayer:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

(Intrusion; my morning commute is making local stops instead of running express. Um, God, grant me the serenity to accept the MTA.)

Gentle Reader, I discovered long ago that truth and wisdom are often found in simplicity. I think the Serenity Prayer represents such an example. On the surface, this petition is simple. Let me accept serenely things I cannot change. Let me boldly change things I can. Let me know the difference. As my dad, a US Marine for over two decades, advised, “David!, choose your battles wisely.”

Please indulge me as I take this to a personal level. I’ve shared with you the challenge I face in trying to choose between remaining in this City I love so much and from which I draw strength and identity or returning to my family in NC, where I could enjoy a proximal closeness with my daughter as well as my aging mother. As I descended from my apartment this morning, I was saying the Serenity Prayer and pondered whether the courage to change meant that I should have the courage to change my residence or the courage to change aspects of living in NYC. Maybe I need to consider whether my personal skills are best aligned with my professional endeavours. Or maybe moving is inevitable and I just need the serenity to accept it.



Today, I’m really concentrating on that third component: God, grant me the wisdom to know the difference.


Questions of the mind

Gallop as valiant steeds

Trampling serenity


Rising skyward, Ho!

Bustling sidewalks, crowded streets

My epitome.


Running, arms flung wide!

Daddy!!!! Lookers on smiling.

He blinks tears of joy.


Remain calm, and speak well.

Be kind to yourself. Be kind to the planet and the future. Cause no suffering. Go Vegan!


Down to Earth Dave’s Post of the Day–May 9

Salutations, Gentle Reader,

Alas, the Post of the Day has been sporadic lately!  Please accept my apologies and my pledge to return to regular posts as soon as possible.  As I was riding the D-Train down to Herald Square this morning, I saw three people in particular work their way onto the train at 145th Street and immediately thought, “Parents are visiting daughter.”  Even with Billie Holiday singing into my ears, I could hear enough of their conversation to confirm my suspicion.  The daughter was en route to work, and the ol’ P & M were en route to a day out and about Gotham.  Their daughter, like me, has come to NYC to be who she can be here.  For seven and a half years, I’ve been able to actually call New York home, and I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to fully explain its draw.  I do know this:  I am merely one of legions of people who have come to New York in search of…

I’ll allow you to end that last sentence.

Gentle Reader, in my mind I know that I’ll always be a New Yorker.  Recently, I shared with you the struggle I’m having about remaining here or returning to NC.  Interestingly, my family (including my ex-wife) have been the ones to say, “Come back.”  None of my friends have said that.  My friends, including the ones in NC, have all advised staying here.  Maybe they “get” the truth of the first sentence of my professional bio:

When Milton Glaser designed the iconic I Love NY logo and ad campaign in 1977, he likely was unaware that he was capturing David “David!” Webb’s feelings, but he was. Image

Sometimes, I wish I didn’t love NY so much.  In ways, life would likely be easier, but perhaps the apostle John had it right. As he was imprisoned on Patmos, he wrote of how restriction leads to freedom for the dedicated heart, mind, and soul.  What I find in NYC is the simultaneous union of challenge and freedom, of responsibility and bon vivance, of distinguished culture and sheer bohemianism.

Gentle Reader, I’m at this point:  I’ve told my family that I’m not ready to choose between staying here or returning to NC.  I’ve moved my deadline to make my choice from May to June.  Am I delaying the inevitable?  I don’t think so.  I’ve been tapped by my leaders at work to become a designated recruiter for the firm.  I’ve begun dedicating more time to St. Luke’s, as it is in a period of transition in its parish administrator’s position.  I’ve begun a specific program for personal growth.  I continue to meet new people of intrigue.  (May I confess that I had quite the ego boost Wednesday evening at Sommerlyn’s client & partner appreciation wine tasting?  A very dapper agent from another brokerage approached and reminded me that we had met early last summer, when I brought a client to an apartment he had listed.  I apologized for not recalling his name and complimented him on his own ability to recall.  He smiled and said, “You’re quite a memorable person, David!.”  Hmmmm, There’s a potential friendship and…    Again, I’ll let you finish that last sentence!)

Gentle Reader, I’m going to close today’s post with a poem (or two), a link to the immortal Bobby Short singing at the Carlyle Hotel, offering his rendition of one of his signature songs:  “I Happen to Like New York“, and my own Doppelganger, Billy Joel singing “New York State of Mind“.

Lunch Hour in New York

Trees, each with a shape,

However seldom noticed and related

To other shapes,

But there,

Sway in the wind

In Uptown Central Park

In early afternoon

In bright July.

Grass, green, with a fragrance,

With a softness,

Moves a little

And people are there on it or on benches.

It is lunch hour in New York;

The milk from containers, cool, is drunk,

The sandwiches and fruit are eaten;

The inertia feeling,

The full feeling, comes over the people

And they sit around and walk around

And lie around,

Their shapes in their clothing containing

Meaning in middle afternoon

In bright July.

Louis Dienes


I WAS asking for something specific and perfect for my city,

Whereupon, lo! upsprang the aboriginal name!

Now I see what there is in a name, a word, liquid, sane, unruly, musical, self-sufficient;

I see that the word of my city is that word up there,

Because I see that word nested in nests of water-bays, superb, with tall and wonderful spires,           5

Rich, hemm’d thick all around with sailships and steamships—an island sixteen miles long, solid-founded,

Numberless crowded streets—high growths of iron, slender, strong, light, splendidly uprising toward clear skies;

Tide swift and ample, well-loved by me, toward sundown,

The flowing sea-currents, the little islands, larger adjoining islands, the heights, the villas,

The countless masts, the white shore-steamers, the lighters, the ferry-boats, the black sea-steamers well-model’d;        10

The down-town streets, the jobbers’ houses of business—the houses of business of the ship-merchants, and money-brokers—the river-streets;

Immigrants arriving, fifteen or twenty thousand in a week;

The carts hauling goods—the manly race of drivers of horses—the brown-faced sailors;

The summer air, the bright sun shining, and the sailing clouds aloft;

The winter snows, the sleigh-bells—the broken ice in the river, passing along, up or down, with the flood tide or ebb-tide;                  15

The mechanics of the city, the masters, well-form’d, beautiful-faced, looking you straight in the eyes;

Trottoirs throng’d—vehicles—Broadway—the women—the shops and shows,

The parades, processions, bugles playing, flags flying, drums beating;

A million people—manners free and superb—open voices—hospitality—the most courageous and friendly young men;

The free city! no slaves! no owners of slaves!       20

The beautiful city, the city of hurried and sparkling waters! the city of spires and masts!

The city nested in bays! my city!

The city of such women, I am mad to be with them! I will return after death to be with them!

The city of such young men, I swear I cannot live happy, without I often go talk, walk, eat, drink, sleep, with them!

Walt Whitman


Remain calm, and speak well.

Be kind to yourself.  Be kind to the planet and the future.  Cause no suffering.  Go Vegan!