Jay Payne

 I was raised in Pawhuska, Oklahoma by my mother, Bettie Louise Harris Payne and my grandmother Louise Lessert. There were no men in my life. We lived on Girard Street and moved to Prudom. I did not know what a father was. Literally, I did not know. Bobby Hughes was the first kid I met. His mother asked, as parents did while trying to form a picture of the new friend, “Who is your father?” I replied, “I don't know.” This simple answer fueled rumors that I was born out of wedlock. You know the word. I won't use it. The stigma started, the rumors started. Somehow, it got back to my mother and when I was eight years of age, she sat down with me and a photograph album and showed me a photograph of my father, Jesse Butler "Jay" Payne. I also learned that I was not an only child, but the youngest of three. I had a name, but little knowledge of him. “Who's your father?” “Jay Payne.” “What does he do?” “I don't know.”

I don't form or hold grudges because we don't hold grudges, grudges hold us. I have reached out to the therapist I used for PTSD  following my nearly fatal automobile accident on December 19th, 2019. I am going to try to heal the 8-year old boy that lives within me who realized that his father didn't want him and whose pain was almost more than he could bear, which directly or indirectly led to my first thoughts of suicide when I was 10-years old. It was a combination of things, understanding that he didn't want me, my own questioning of whether I was born out of wedlock, and who really was my father. When anyone implied that I was born out of wedlock and that's why people didn't like me, the scab of doubt was ripped off and my soul was bleeding out, killing me. The 8-year boy still is my injury point, my Achilles' heel. Because of the 8-year old boy that was never loved. He's still there and I don't want to eliminate him. I want to heal him so that I can have peace. I harbored my own doubt lifelong, even after I met Sperm Donor Jay Payne, until DNA testing with my half brother, Bobby Payne, scientifically proved that Jay Payne was indeed my father.

I will someday make "A Stop at Willoughby," but not yet, for "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep." "A Stop at Willoughby" is a subtle hint for followers of the American television series "The Twilight Zone," episode 30. I'm fine,  but I need to heal the boy. 

Latinas and Latinos

 If you really understand the word Hispanic, you will never use it again. Instead, you will want to use the culturally more correct words, Latinas and Latinos. Latinas and Latinos are appropriate for citizens of the American continent. Latinas & Latinos were here, like the indigenous people whom someone, whether it was or wasn't Columbus, dubbed Indians, for hundreds if not for thousands of years before a white European god ever set foot on these islands and this continent. Hispanic is a made up word created by the Nixon administration for the United States census because they couldn't understand how to classify the growing population of people from the south of the Rio Grande river who spoke Spanish and Portuguese as their native language. Latinas and Latinos belong to this hemisphere and deserve their own words to identify their languages, customs, music, and culture. The people of Spain are Spanish and the people of Portugal are Portuguese, not Hispanic, because that word is a fiction of Nixon. Even the words Latinas and Latinos are loaned words from the European language of Latin. The peoples called themselves by their own names, just like the first Americans called themselves Cherokee, Osage, and a thousand other of their own names. Here is why I use Latinas and Latinos. The Spanish language is patronymic, like all masculine leaning languages, and requires the masculine plural Latinos if any males are included. If 900 women are present with one male, it's Latinos. I have been a feminist since 1992 to atone for the life I lived as a misogynistic man before then. I put women first in my writing and speech so use Latinas and Latinos in that order. In English, we always say “Women and men” because they are two unique words. I can use hombres y mujeres, but I prefer the sound of Latinas and Latinos. 

Coming Out

 There is a large group of men who mostly identify as heterosexual who are celibate and abstain from sexual intercourse.They are Catholic priests. There is also a large analogous group of Catholic women who are called nuns. I was raised by my Osage family, my grandmother and mother. They never said “I love you,” but I knew they did because they showed it in many ways. I never had a father. The first time I said “I love you” was in 1955 when I was 11 years old to another 11 year old boy. We boys and girls often said “I like you” to a friend, and I had told Jerry that many times, but this day, we were wrestling, and it just slipped out, shocking me that I had said the words. But I did love him. Being straight or gay doesn't have to be an action, something you do, for you to be either straight or gay. It's an identity, a spectrum, similar to being autistic. It's just what you are. I've been in two long term marriages of more than 20 years each with women whom I loved. I've identified as heterosexual all my life, and there have been many women in my life. I have had a son who lived and then died when he was 36. I have been afraid of saying what I am acknowledging now. I am gay and I have been all my life or I would not have fallen love with two boys, Jerry and then Ernie. I was born so. I have kept it my secret, but I have known it, and I acknowledged it to myself more than 20 years ago. My late wife, Charlotte, and I had a great sexual relationship for our first five years and then it just stopped for the remainder of our 30 years long marriage. There were no arguments, or even discussions. Just a tacit agreement. We continued to share the same big Sleep Number mattress while being celibate within our marriage. 

I have not been in a relationship with another man, but I have almost been. It might have happened, but it didn't. I am 81 years of age now and I have no idea how much time remains for me to be here. I have no intention of engaging in a sexual relationship, and I made a vow to the woman who talked me out having a vasectomy that I would not be in one. I do not want to create a child. I do not want to contract or transmit an STD. I am speaking out because I believe in equal rights. If all of us do not have equal rights, then none of us do. You are either in the fight for equal rights or you're not. There is no middle ground. I have  stood on the sidelines for too long and I now fully join the fight. I will continue to focus on acknowledging the lives and history of black people, but I add myself to the LGBTQ community as well, as one of them, and I will no longer be just a spectator. 

"I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything; but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the

something that I can do. " Edward Everett Hale

Stephen Joe Payne

Charlotte Sue Payne (1946-2024)

 

 

Charlotte Sue Payne, a long time Bartlesville resident, died on December 3, 2024, at Forrest Manor in Dewey, Oklahoma at age 78. Charlotte was born August 24, 1946, in Tulsa, Oklahoma, to Helen Blaylock Green and Junior Green. She began school in Tulsa and moved to Nowata, Oklahoma early in life when her parents divorced and Helen married Lee Borneman who adopted Charlotte and her sister Carol Ann. Charlotte had spinal meningitis while in Nowata Elementary School. She graduated from Nowata High School, where she was a cheerleader, in 1964, and then attended Bartlesville Beauty School. Charlotte worked as a hair stylist for over 50 years in her own shop and other shops. She loved motorcycles, art, music, dancing, and her many cats. Charlotte and Stevie Joe “Red Boots” Payne married in Las Vegas, June 3, 1995 and were married 29 years until her death. She was preceded in death by her mother, Helen, adoptive father Lee Borneman, and her sister, Carol Ann Fink of Knoxville, TN, beloved aunt Barbara Blaylock Cooper of Tulsa, cousins Linda Delargy, Larry Golleto, and cousin Tony Golleto who died from AIDS in 1988, and stepson Stephen William Payne. She is survived by Stevie Joe, her niece Kim Ketchings of Knoxville, TN, several cousins, including Jeff Golleto of Norman,OK. Charlotte was a kind and loving woman who hated Donald Trump with every fiber of her being. She was loved by many and will be sorely missed.

Mission Statement of Stephen Payne

 

My Mission

My mission is to learn, teach and give.

I am a product more of my decisions and choices than of conditions.  I do not allow present circumstances or past conditioning to determine my responses to the challenges that I face.  

I choose to focus on the positive, to work within my circle of influence, to act directly on the things that I can do something about and reduce my circle of concern.

I learn from a wide variety of sources; from books, films, video and audio programs, from examples, changemakers, gate keepers, teachers, and from all of life itself.

From all that I learn, I teach and give to those in need as much as I can.

I seek risks for I learn from them and I grow with each success--and also with each failure.

I do not let fear of failure discourage me for I believe that success is just failure turned inside out.  I bring interest, enthusiasm, curiosity, talent, and joy to all that I do..  

I am friendly and outgoing, always speaking first, putting my hand out to make everyone feel welcome.  

I am fair in all things, with the courage to do what is right balanced against the consideration of others.

I accept responsibility for my own actions, not blaming others or finding excuses.

I have deep respect for nature and I leave the world a better place each time I have the opportunity.

"I am only one; but still I am one. I cannot do everything; but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do. " Edward Everett Hale

Stephen Joe Payne

Six Questions for Making Decisions

Six Questions for Making Decisions 

1. What is my goal?

2. Does this move me closer to or further from my goal?

3. Am I being mean spirited? 

4. Is it already in the past? 

5. Will commenting on it make the other person feel better or worse worse?

6. Will commenting on it change our relationship?

These are six questions I developed from practice that are designed to help me make decisions in my life. 

We have goals every day of our lives, whether we are conscious of them or not. We set and accomplish most goals without giving them a thought. Getting breakfast is a goal. Getting a shower and a shave, and getting dressed are goals. More difficult tasks require more complex goal setting. Getting a college degree is a complicated goal that requires great planning and tracking (measuring). Long term goals require periodic measuring to see what our progress is and to estimate when we might complete our goal. Measuring progress of a goal let's us know if it is realistic to think we can complete the goal, or if we should change the goal, or even abandon the goal.

Before setting a goal, one question should be asked: is this goal worthy?

To be the meanest man in town is not a worthwhile goal.

Most of us will set a goal to lose weight at some point in our lives. A motivation leads us to set a goal. Regarding weight loss goals, the motivation is frequently the external event of something that we want to look good for or at. Frequent motivations are high school reunions, weddings, ceremonies. Those are poor motivations because they are part of a D.I.E.T. mentality, meaning Do It Every Time (wash, rinse, repeat.) By that, I mean, we go on a rigorous diet and exercise program to lose weight to look good for a specific event, and then we go right back to the lifestyle that made us fat. Meaning, we'll get fat again. I speak as an experienced practitioner of this. Health is a much better motivation. It has the possibility of becoming permanent in our lifestyle. Losing weight for health is a worthwhile goal.

To give you some background, I have lived with depression since I was ten years old. I grew up in a small Oklahoma town so mental health professionals were unknown to me. I was in a terrible automobile accident December 19th, 2019, and during recovery, I gained weight. In January, 2023, I began to experience PTSD and my doctor prescribed Paxil for me. That ended my depression and I set a goal to reduce my weight to 170 lbs. (77.1 kg.).

What is my goal?  My goal is to weigh 170 lbs.

But a goal without a time point is actually  only a wish. 

My goal is to reduce my weight to 170 lbs. by losing 4 ounces each day for 90-120 days.

Now I have a goal defined that I can measure daily by stepping on a scale. 

Now for the actions that I can control that lead to achieving my goal. I can control what I choose to eat, both quantity and quality. I must decide what foods I can eat, and which foods I cannot eat. 

That brings me to the next question: Does this move me closer to, or further from my goal?

I learned a lot about calories first. I read "Protein Power," by the Doctors Eades, "Dr. Atkins' New Diet Revolution," by Robert Atkins, and two books by Gary Taubes, "Good Calories, Bad Calories," and "Why We Get Fat and What to Do About It."

I decided to follow a program of low carbohydrates, high fat, and protein. Actually, I've done it before and had great success. But I got off of my program and regained weight. I weigh every day, in the morning, in just my underwear, after urinating. My weight will change through the week so measuring every day is a requirement for me to measure progress.

Every day, the second question comes into play. Does this move me closer to or further from my goal? A donut? Further. A small salad? Closer. Not exercising? Further. Walking three miles?  Closer. It isn't easy. Knowledge alone isn't power. Knowledge is only power when it's used to make positive decisions. Knowledge is a tool to make good choices over bad choices. 

Question 3, Am I being mean spirited? This is more about getting through the day without creating feelings in me that I will regret tomorrow. Revenge is at the top of the list. Any time I do anything to get back at anyone for any slight I perceive  always blows up on me. An example. A neighbor died and the house was demolished, so there is a spare driveway between some houses. Different people use it. One day, it was open and I was annoyed at its constant use by one man. When he left, I thought about moving my pickup over to it to block him from using it. I  quickly realized that this would be mean spirited. I chose not to do it and I chose to add that to my questions.

The next questions are closely related to each other. 

Is it already in the past? Will commenting on it make the other person feel better or worse? Will commenting on it change our relationship?

These are about relationship controls and boundaries. If your partner has already done something that you don't like, then it's in the past and you can not change it. Commenting on what cannot be changed anyway only allows the partner to choose negative responses. Commenting negatively on what cannot be changed and creating negative responses causes relationship changes, usually in the form of revenge. These are little revenges but a continuous string of little revenges destroys a relationship just as effectively as a great revenge. It's called letting go. We don't have to keep everything, and some things, we shouldn't keep at all. 

When I practice using these six questions, I have a successful day.

Stevie Joe Payne 

The Navy Saved Me

The anniversary of the date that I raised my right hand and swore an oath to the Constitution of the United States of America and became a seventeen year old sailor in the United States Navy is March 9th. This is 2023 and that was 62 years ago and I am now 79 years of age. But I wouldn't be here without the navy. I quit school in my junior year, just after the return from the Christmas and New Year’s holidays. My girlfriend and I had had a terrible breakup, almost like a divorce, the summer before, and I was terribly hurt. And I had to see her every day in band during the school week. In every sense that I understood at that age and time, I was deeply in love with her. And I was dying inside. My grades were declining, I was driving fast, drinking beer, and with the wrong friends for me. I was in a downward spiral and headed for trouble. My grandmother, Louise Lessert, who had raised me, was dying from lung cancer and was constantly hospitalized. A friend joined the navy and Jess Paul Tomey, the big Indian, as we called him, and I went to Ponca City with Charlie Edgar just to keep him company while he completed his papers. That introduced Jess and me to the recruiter. The navy was in the back of my mind while I struggled with everything that was going on. Also, the girl and I couldn't completely separate in spite of the bad break up. I got my mother's permission to enlist and I quit school and enlisted. The discipline required of me to survive boot camp, to go on to six months in radar "A" school, and then go aboard the USS Point Defiance (LSD-31) and serve there for three years, gave me the tools I needed to survive my broken heart and screwed up life. So, the navy doesn't owe me. I owe the navy. I owe the navy a debit I can never repay. I love to hear, "Thank you for your service." But then I feel guilty because it wasn't service, it was a giant life raft that saved my life and allowed me to have so many wonderful things in my life instead of becoming the eighteen year old kid killed while driving too fast because he didn't care about living. The navy saved my life and I am so grateful that it did.