This blog has been off line for nearly 45 days. I de-activated as a security precaution (no gels or liquids please) and will provide you some color. But there is indeed much to report.
I’m back online because perhaps I still do have something to say, some words to get out, a message to deliver. The fact is there are many gay married men living a life of secrecy and god help all of us if I’m indeed your role model. But perhaps I am.
The last time you heard from me, I and Scrappy Doo, were living together temporarily in Sydney, Australia. In early, July, Scrappy and I packed up and relocated ourselves to lovely “can you say wei” Hong Kong and that my friend is from where I am writing you. My office is looking out at the Harbor, “oh look daddy is that the Star Ferry”.
Hong Kong is hot, humid and hot, in no particular order and Scrappy and I have become fully immersed in this interesting mix of east meets west culture environment. It’s just me, Scrappy and 8 million little Chinese people running around (plus a couple of hundred thousand other westerns). But there is more to report here.
Scrappy and I have found a nice little apartment in the Western section of town and it is truly a land of his own calling. Hong Kong never sleeps, bars open and crowded until 2 a.m. during the week and until 5 or 6 a.m. on weekends. Very safe at all hours in all neighborhoods. Equally crowded and alone in the woods, Hong Kong seems to have something for everyone. Scrappy seems to be enjoying it sans the heat.
Sadly, Scrappy’s mother has had a bit of a medical problem, she went into the hospital, got out, had a relapse and is back in the hospital. Loss of motor skills and trouble speaking. A stroke? No, blood clot with infection putting pressure on the brain. After a few weeks of agony, Scrappy flew home to be with his mother last weekend, leaving me alone in the big city.
And that, my friend, is where we’re at.