Tomorrow on Bilerico: "Third man in"

You will have to go to Bilerico tomorrow to see my response to the following (first of a series from one man on a particular subject):

Have you ever seen a 3way relationship work? Really? We tried it once and it didn't go so hot because he was more into Fred (my partner) than me. This time I was the instigator, but he seems to like Fred just as much as me and Fred feels good about it.

Thoughts?

A classic example of why America is sinking.

We've all been there.

(Sorry to be doing the cut and paste thing (no matter how amusing) but packing up a household has taken me longer than expected. It's driving me nuts, truth to tell. Just when I think I've got it all under control, I open another cabinet or go deeper into another closet. Stuff.

Which god is driving the bus?

It becomes clear that as we switch out the god we have in the driver's seat, each of the passengers will eventually and in turn be thrown under the bus. There is no universal god. Only an extremely personal one. The invocation at the inauguration ought to consist of five minutes of silence to allow each attendee to to burn mental incense to god or Santa Claus or to go outside for a smoke.

For the best reflection on this to date, read Frank Rich's You're Likable Enough, Gay People. While reading it, I asked C if Frank Rich is gay. He replied, "No. He's Jewish and a New Yorker."

(For those of you who don't get that - and I doubt there are many - the next time you take your mother or aunt to a Broadway musical, ask them if they realize how much of the National Humor is either gay or Jewish.)

The future of art

In the future the walls of our homes will undulate constantly with this sort of thing. They will be either home-made or purchased.


πάντα ῥει - panta rei - everything flows from defetto on Vimeo.

PS: You should check out all of Defetto's videos, especially Tapeworm and Hello World. I am full of envy and frustration because i don't have the ability to make this kind of thing.

Obama, read this.

This made me mad. Mad that we are behind rather than in the lead. Mad that we have to spend zillions of dollars on heat when it could be generated for free. If our country wakes up only when its wallet is almost empty, maybe our president-elect will have the brains and vision to throw some of our tax dollars into fostering this type of residential efficiency. Can anyone give me even one good reason for not doing so?

Divine Christmas

I'm glad he runs this every year.

If you had told me 30 years ago that I'd be....

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Next on Bilerico: The Vociferous American Erection

You will have to go to Bilerico on Friday morning for my response to the following:

Dear Father Tony,

This is about my husband’s “little problem” at his gym. Every time he comes home, I ask him “Was he there?” We are getting a lot of laughs out of this but my husband (straight and with a great bod) is asking me what he should do. I’m a (straight) woman so I’m in the dark about this so I’m asking you because you would know…

In the shower at the gym is a guy who is very friendly with my husband. My husband says he likes talking with this guy who is funny and smart but after they got to know each other, one day he comes home and tells me that when they were in the shower together talking, this guy got an erection in the middle of the conversation. I said “What were you talking about?” He says “the economy!” Anyway, the guy doesn’t try to hide it and my husband doesn’t know what to do so he went back to his locker and left really fast.

The thing is that now, it happens the same way every time they are in the shower together. They could be talking about anything and after a few minutes the guy gets an erection and just keeps on talking.

My husband is cool with the gay thing in general but he is not sure how to handle this. It’s like “out there and pointing at him.” He thinks he should say something. I asked him if it happens to the guy only when he’s talking with my husband or with other guys also and my husband says he has never seen it happen with other guys but it’s not like he’s looking so he doesn’t know for sure. He thinks he should say something, but what?

The Housewife.



It's up. Get on it.

The calla lilies are in bloom again...I carried them on my wedding day

Gay Rights Protester seeks husband (or something like one)

When the gay marriage protest march reached Times Square, we bumped into Stan Richardson, "Playwright and Protagonist", who was handing out leaflets and feeling desirous of a New York wedding.

He's cute and funny. (His best line is the one at the very end of the vid.)

Hey you single guys looking for a man, what are you waiting for? stanrichardson@gmail.com

I get the yenta points.

Gay Protest in New York City tonight

We froze but we marched.
From Herald Square (think Macy's and Miracle on 34th St, you hinterlanders) to Times Square. In numbers approaching a few hundred strong, the little lights of protest warmed up the night. More formal observations and video to follow tomorrow, but

a) Just as I expected and despite instructions from JoinTheImpact, this was not a silent, prayerful or chanting crowd. Out came the megaphones and all the usual shouts of "When I say XXXX, you say XXXX...XXXX! etc. (I really hate that one. It's too convoluted.) and the hey hey ho ho chant was aimed this time at having Rick Warren to go.

b) Numbers were small (<300?) but impact was high: strong sound system and a stage in Times Square.

c) Proof of the consistently amateur or naive approach to this phenomenon is the fact that the wooden podium had no sign on it with a logo and info that would show up in media coverage.

d)And this is MOST important, we need to show great respect and encouragement to the young people who are producing these events. Someone at last is doing something. The flaws are inconsequential. To not show up, despite the weather would have been unthinkable.


Go here for some pics.

Caroline says...

This Q&A for Caroline Kennedy is one of the oddest-funniest pieces of writing I've encountered in quite a while. I just finished reading the questions and answers aloud to C, and see if you can't do the same without feeling that her handlers are manipulating a Caroline sock puppet. They seem to want to create a one-name persona for her, like Cher or Charo. (I'm glad to see she's down with gay marriage, but elsewhere in the Q&A, I begin to wonder who she really is.) Anyway, if you do it aloud, use a wise-cracking 1945 Daily Planet reporter-in-fedora voice for the questions, and for the answers, use an Eleanor-Parker-as-the-Baroness-in-Sound-of-Music voice for the Caroline says answers.

Tomorrow on Bilerico: "His Man Goes South for the Winter"

You'll have to go to Bilerico tomorrow at noon for my response to the following:

Dear Father Tony,

You won’t print this, I know, but maybe you can email me your opinion. I met a guy I like but there is a problem. He told me before we met that he was really into one thing. His face in my butt. (My on-line pics show I’ve got some classic bubble butt). I chatted with him because he is gorgeous (my opinion) and I began to fall for him. When we finally hooked up, he wasn’t kidding. I didn’t see much of his face and my mattress got the rest of him if you get my meaning. He says he’s never had it so good and I really cannot complain because he is so good at it, but still. We have talked about this. I told him I want more and spelled out what I like to do. He shrugs and says that is the way he is. When we are not going at it, we have great conversation. He is very well educated and can recite English poetry for hours. I love the sound of his voice (English accent) and I feel guilty about complaining but I want what I want just like he wants what he wants. I know you are going to say that we should never go into a relationship thinking we can change someone, and I guess I did but isn’t it OK to ask him to think about me sometimes? Sheesh. Is that too much to ask? I think I should stop seeing him and I think you will say that but sometimes I think maybe there is a way to work this out so we both get what we want. That’s it. Is there a way to make it work?

Worried.

Update. It's up. Get on it.

Fashion Trend Alert - The right plaid

This year, you can donate that tired tan Burberry plaid scarf, knowing that everyone you don't want to look like is wearing it or its knock-off.

Instead, reach into the back of the drawer and find that bright red and black plaid scarf. Or, if you didn't save it, get yourself a new one. This is the scarf of the season. It can say so many things. I'm cheery! I'm nostalgic! I'm angry! I'm bloody! I'm defiant! You choose.

Pair it with a black hat and jacket as a fiery accent. You needn't reserve this plaid exclusively for the neck. We recently had the opportunity to observe this same plaid on the friendly silk boxers of a new acquaintance.

As you can see below, this plaid conjures the muse of Christmas Past but she has not yet convinced me to smile. Still ten days to go.

Big Ass Belle at her best.

What makes for that rarely encountered great piece of blog-writing?

I know it when I see it, and I see it here.

There are ways to take it apart and analyze the components, if you are looking for guidance in your own writing. You note the opening image, a speedy blur and then a rapid zoom into the person who is the focus of the piece. You note the economy of choices made. You notice the way the reader is carefully ushered along with no confusion as to where the next door leads. You note the superb attention to visual angling, background sound, and interior emotions. You note the timing.

Is it possible to learn this type of story telling? I think not. Either you have it in you or you don't. Teachers can give you polish and help you avoid excesses, but they cannot give you instincts. This is not to say that we are brilliant every time we touch the keyboard, but sometimes...and this is one of those times for Miss Lynette.

Have Yourself a Wary Little Christmas

I've written about Bob and Ray's Christmas party in previous years.

I still think it is one of the best parties imaginable. We see some folks only annually at this party. They and we do not exist for each other outside this Brigadoonular fete.

You cannot be deleted from the invitation list, except by a verified report of your death.

The food is always memorable and the bar is like a $2 hooker...oh, figure it out.

This year, I upset a twelve foot ficus tree by sitting on the edge of its pot. Its shaken leaves provided an attractive garnish to the baked ham on the nearby buffet.

Despite their request that friends stop giving them tree ornaments (their collection is rotated in its yearly presentation), I spied an Orbamament that is new and a festive pig that I do not recall.





Here are C, Rob (who spins at Nowhere every second Sunday of the month), his partner Tim who is an admirable artist and our Joey who, at some point in 2008, transcended definition.



As you'll see in this tiny vid, the energy was high and convivial, but I think there was something different in the air this year. An uneasiness about the future. A sense of apprehension. We are entering a season of adjustment. Financial. Political. Social and philosophical. We are all preparing mentally for some not-yet-defined but major surgery. You could almost smell it just above the pine needles and the warm brownies. I listened as a doctor talked about being laid off from his municipal post. There seemed to be less shimmer in the costuming. Less bravado. Less daring. It's as if we have all taken a punch and are getting our wind back as we struggle to our feet. We are far away from the last round. We'll make it. We will win. We just need to pay attention.

See C

This afternoon we stopped by the Postmasters Gallery on 19th Street to see Jennifer and Kevin McCoy’s “I’ll Replace You”, a photography and video exhibit exploring the business of exchanging viewers, artists and critics with themselves (the real McCoys).

I was eager to see this because C is featured in a large composite photo in which Jennifer poses with a number of people who are wearing Kevin’s orange vest and a wig/glasses/stashe combination that mimics his look. (In an adjacent piece, Jennifer is replaced by people who pose with Kevin.)




Can you spot the boy, even as he recreates his pose, albeit in mirror image?



Here he is.



At another gallery we saw this, for which there are no words.

Oh Ricky, you're so...whatever

Here's a picture of Ricky Martin wearing his new twin boys. What caught my attention in this photo is the way Ricky looks at us. His eyes seek out the viewer's understanding and seem to yearn for the viewer's approval. I think we've been given that look before. By Joan Crawford. The comparison stops there, as I suspect Ricky will be a much better parent than was Joan.



Here are three wonderful women who have recently become unavailable as godmothers for the twins. They are in the great Green Room together, preparing and sharing their complaints about men for when they are ushered into God's throne room where their voices will scorch the paint off the walls.

Tomorrow on Bilerico: "Reminding me why I hate Christmas"

You will have to go to Bilerico tomorrow at noon to see my response to the following:

Dear Father Tony,

Is it possible to forgive and forget?

Betrayed

It's up. Get on it.

The Honorable Barney Frank

On Saturday, Dec 6, 2008, Barney Frank spoke at a Victory Fund luncheon at The Mayflower Hotel in Washington DC. We who were at the National LGBT Blogger and Citizen Journalist Initiative were also invited.

Barney spoke about what we should demand of those who say they love us, and, about the passage of an inclusive Hate Crimes Bill, but the funny money-quote is at the end of this two-minute clip from the video I made.

Why Andrew Sullivan blogs

This essay on blogging, by Andrew Sullivan, is almost flawless.

There is but one question begged but not raised: Given the ephemeral, immediate and rapid nature of blogging, is it not performed more often than not by those afflicted with ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder)? This colors not only the style of presentation, but the level of thought and discernment. A swarm of locusts descends upon and devours the whole farm in seconds before moving on. A horde of impatient shoppers breaks down the Walmart door and tramples the staff. The swarm, the horde, the blogger and the commenter. Far away, in deep woods, lives the writer, listening to snow fall.

Because of this, you probably won't take the time to read all four pages of Mr. Sullivan's essay, as did I, but I seriously recommend doing so because each new section opens a door to yet another perfectly stated truth about what we are doing here, and why this is not the same as - and will never replace - writing.

I have always thought of this as a place to practice or prepare for writing, like stretching before a run.

Mr. Sullivan tells us why he blogs. Why do you?

The Meet and Greet

The Washington Blade covered the Bilerico Meet and Greet held at a coffeehouse called ArtfullyChocolate.
You'll find the full set of photos here, but I feel this one, in which I'm with Zamna Avila of AskTheGayLatino, captures my inner ferocity or perhaps just the embers of sleep deprivation.

(And don't miss the pic of blogger friend Mike of DC seated to my right with the fabulous Nick Cargo of PageOneQ to my left.)

Busy Bees

As you might imagine, a gathering of bloggers might be understated as hyper-communicative. Even during the presentations, almost no one stopped surfing, texting, emailing, twittering, uploading, editing, posting and electronically gossiping with a pal across the room. This is not to say that we didn't absorb what was being presented. We are simply of the breed that can intake stimuli from various sources simultaneously and deliver it simultaneously to a number of unrelated recipients. The presenters seemed to understand this and not mind it.

A more cordial group you couldn't assemble.

What happens in DC may or may not stay there.

This is Nate's brief clip of an unscheduled event of the National LGBT Blogger and Citizen Journalist Initiative.
It features Mr. Rage on the dance floor of Town.


LGBT Blogger Summit Dance party from Nathan Strang on Vimeo.

Sex as God Intended

You may go to Bilerico for my review of John J. McNeill's latest book.

Nate of www.buffawhat.com

DC-A-Go-Go - 201
Originally uploaded by Buffawhat™

A self-described tech-nerd blogger, by night.

At Town

DC-A-Go-Go - 212
Originally uploaded by Buffawhat™

with Waymon of Bilerico-Florida, Zamna of AskTheGayLatino and the Bil in Bilerico

National LGBT Blogger and Citizen Journalist Initiative - Saturday afternoon

The Honorable Barney Frank spoke to us at lunch hosted by the Victory Fund at the Mayflower Hotel. (video to follow)



The Mayflower Madams: BuffaWhat, Blabbeando, Jimbo and JoeMyGod



Joe and Kate Clinton



At dinner, I sat with the Gay and Lesbian Task Force crew, names and links to follow. Seeya both in Miami!



The Bilerico reception at Artfully Chocolate

Blogger Summit- room full of Paul Reveres

Heavy on the political (which is something I mostly leave to others) but, as you'd imagine, a room full of fascinatin gay bloggers is like a day spent at the flea market at Brimfield, MA: acres of interesting stuff each piece with its own intricate history and message and life.

Regarding the political side to this, I'll summarize for you:

In the American Revolution, there was one Paul Revere. Today, in the revolution that has now begun for ownership of individual rights, bloggers are the new Paul Revere, but there are hundreds of thousands of them and they are not all shouting the same thing about the British coming. They are shouting huge heaps of overlapping static. Sometimes they pull together suddenly like a school of fish responding to the force of the current. There is no skill to this. There is only speed. You almost need to be out of the water to see, let alone control this. Nevertheless, the political bloggers feel that coalescence is within their grasp.

Here's the fabulous Mike Rogers of PageOne who is our overworked organizer (and you'll pardon me for liveblogularly skip the links for the moment):



Eric Leven of Knuckecrack and Bilerico makes a point while Nate of the blog www.buffawhat.com does something unrelated on Vimeo.



And of course, JoeMyGod and I do our duelling banjoes thing with our cameras (they are the new fans).

the DC Blogger Summit - Opening Reception

We began the weekend with a reception at the premises of the HRC (Human Rights Campaign) conveniently located across the street from the YMCA where I spent the afternoon exercising. The company was scintillating and the conversation covered everything from the the mellifluous voice of Pam Spaulding to the fact that Hillary's doctor told her she could never again wear high heels to the handsome blogger behind Ask The Gay Latino.

Here's the whole Bilerico gang, blurred because I didn't notice that I had the camera set to macro-focus.

via Tornwordo at Sticky Crows

You Are Vixen

Sexy and sultry, you're the one all the other reindeer dream about. Why You're Naughty: That fur pulling spat you got into with Dancer over Santa. Why You're Nice: Because even when you're nice, you're still delightfully naughty!

Which of Santa's Reindeer Are You?

National LGBT Blogger and Citizen Journalist Initiative

Off to DC for the weekend. Just got the finalized agenda. This will be fun.

The pro-LGBT Galvanization of American Majorities

A fascinating and encouraging GLAAD-sponsored Harris Interactive survey has just been released to the accompaniment of a call-in question/answer session in which I participated for The Bilerico Project.

This post-election survey called The Pulse of Equality, shows that majorities of Americans are pro-LGBT rights and that public sentiment is trending toward greater acceptance.

You may read GLAAD's announcement here. It contains the startling highlights of the survey.

I also suggest you read the survey in its entirety here. It's enlightening and hopeful.

GLAAD President Neil G. Giuliano said that this is the first survey ever commissioned by GLAAD. He said "We wanted something that could help media navigate the post-election narrative."

I asked Rashad Robinson, Senior Director of Media Programs at GLAAD, where in the USA he felt the strongest pockets of anti-LGBT sentiment remain. Mr. Robinson replied that the rural areas of America are the most resistant to acceptance and that the survey demonstrates that interaction with visible and identifiably LGBT folks has resulted in greater acceptance. In rural areas, that interaction is smaller.

I also asked him about the fact that the survey demonstrates that the highest levels of negativity involved not only the evangelical Christian churches, but also the male population age 65 and over. I wondered what, if anything, GLAAD was doing to reach that demographic. He replied that GLAAD has and will continue to appeal to that demographic through targeted media outreach such as sports programming. This is encouraging and I can't wait to see the GLAAD-sponsored Aussie Bum shorts on the male cheerleaders during next year's Super Bowl halftime show.

Seriously, read the survey. It will make you feel good.

Tomorrow on Bilerico: "His teeth are in the way of world peace"

You will have to go to Bilerico tomorrow morning to see my response to the following:

Dear Father Tony,

The last guy I dated was six months ago. He broke it off with me but I thought everything was going along perfect. Finally he took my call and told me the reason. Sex. He said I give really bad head. He said it was painful. He said my teeth are the problem. I go to the same dentist since I was a kid. How do I tell him to fix this without telling him why or do I need a gay dentist? There’s a guy who I think is interested but I keep avoiding him because of this. Now I’m afraid to even kiss anyone new. Can I just learn to give good head?

Shark Boy


Update: It's up. Get on it.

I don't know why I got this.

I think I'll join it just as a goof. They'll rue the day.(Although I do like limited government and private property rights, something tells me that I'd be rubbing shoulders with some "tiny" folks. Think Gulliver's Travels.)


For Immediate Release Contact: Adam Bitely
November 24th, 2008 Phone: (202) 689-9266

Dear Fellow Blogger,

It is my distinct pleasure, as the president of Americans for Limited Government, to invite you today to become a key member of the exciting new conservative “bloggers central,” NetRightNation.com.

At ALG, we recognize the critical role you as a blogger play in gathering, assimilating, and disseminating news and commentary. And I, personally, am deeply grateful to you for taking the lead in fighting some of the most important battles our country has faced over the past decade, and more.

That's why I am so pleased to announce that NetRightNation.com is providing bloggers like you, the mainstream media, politicians, and other opinion leaders free, instant access to nearly 60,000 conservative blogs nationwide. And counting.

As a complete service bureau, NRN provides you a wide new array of blogger opportunities. As a featured blogger on NRN, you will be able to post your own blogs and interface with other like-minded bloggers nationwide. You will soon be able to “claim” your blog and customize your blog profile.

Information on NRN – blogs, as well as Twitter feeds -- will be divided by state, as well as by issue, to make it easy for you and others to access. NRN will also include a sophisticated search engine function and will soon have the capability for you to subscribe to customized email blog feeds on your topics of choice. Stay tuned, for these features will soon be online!

And all of that is just the beginning. In fact, I have asked ALG's Director of New Media, Adam Bitely, to follow up on this note with a letter of his own providing you the exciting details on how NRN can help you grow your own blog.

Above all, we want to make sure NRN is all that you, an important member of the conservative blogosphere, want it to be. So, as you visit NetRightNation.com, I urge you to please give us your input on how to make it the valuable asset we are committed to providing, at absolutely no charge.

Thank you for all that you are doing. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Bill Wilson
President, Americans for Limited Government

###

Americans for Limited Government is a non- partisan, nationwide network committed to advancing free market reforms,private property rights and core American liberties. For more information on ALG please call us at 703-383-0880 or visit our website at www.GetLiberty.org.

Go here for the best laugh you've had in ages

We all need a good laugh from time to time, but if you go to this site, you will find more good laughs than have ever been packed into any one single blog/website. I have only been able to go back through the five most recent pages.

This is so NSFW, and I am concluding that it can't be fake. Real people in their real settings.

You'll thank me for this.

Alicia's Dream

You will have to go to Bilerico tomorrow afternoon to find my response to the following:

Dear Father Tony,

I had the same dream three times and it is bugging me.
In it, I am in the kitchen standing next to the ironing board and I’m holding the iron and I’m sort of smiling in a calm way like I’m peaceful. I feel real peaceful.
One by one, I take clothes out of a basket and iron them. They are all my girlfriend’s stuff. We have been together for six years and I love her and I think she loves me, but who knows. I can’t read minds, you know? Like all couples, we have our fights.
I iron and fold and stack her stuff in neat piles. I do it slowly and carefully and I like doing it. I am proud of the neat stacks. I look down and see that she has come in kitchen and she is looking up at me and watching what I am doing, but she is little and she looks just like the photos we have of her when she was a little girl with braids. She doesn’t say anything. She just watches me, and I am thinking “Why doesn’t she say anything?”

I fold everything in neat piles and it’s like slow motion. We walk out the kitchen door and we are carrying the piles and we go into the back yard and I put the piles on the grass in a row. I have a shovel and I dig deep holes in a row and I place the piles of her clothes in the holes and fill the holes back up with the dirt. It’s like a new garden. She watches all this and still nothing.

That’s about it. What does this mean? I am really really worried about this dream. It’s dark like death and it’s so quiet.

Thanks for helping me understand it so I don’t have this dream again.

Alicia

Getting it right.

Why is it that gay men are so highly opinionated about the correct option or iteration or expression in any given category?

For instance, C and I took the subway to the Brooklyn Museum last Sunday to see the Gilbert and George exhibition. Even the smallest of details catch the eye. In this MTA sign, the word Today needs either a comma or an apostrophe s. And earlier, the subway and bus fare teeters disturbingly on the brink of requiring a plural verb.



Regarding art, we are ever more fussy. Gilbert and George left C unmoved but I was delighted. It was lavish, self-absorbed, highly stylized, over-scaled, erotic, with highly saturated colors, and, with religious overtones. (Rather like me, I suppose you’re thinking.)









I wonder what it would be like to forge a lifelong career with one’s partner as have these two Brits. C and I have on occasion collaborated. About seventeen years ago, I had a solo show of photography for which C designed and manufactured the unusual metal frames that undulated like roller coaster tracks. Little aggravation in the production of that, but to work together daily? He tends to staunch my torrential crypticisms and I tend to give structure and broader cultural context to his instincts. This is often good but sometimes the mitigation tends to blunt the result, and so I conclude that occasional collaboration is better than a constant one. Gilbert and George appear to be on entirely the same wave length, or, perhaps one is entirely a follower of the other.

Later, in the locker room of the gym, C is flapping his towel to create dynamic cooling by bouncing the air off the wall. I mumble something about “for every action there is a reaction” and am corrected with the addition of “equal and opposite”. I don’t know my thermodynamics, but later, as we pass a flower vendor, I am vindicated as C attempts to quote the Hepburn/calla lily line from Stage Door. (Can you do it? I’ll put it at the end of this post.) I also demand of him that he quote perfectly the famous inscription over the façade of the Eighth Avenue Post Office building in midtown Manhattan. (Also supplied at the end of this post.) You never know when you might run into Alex Trebek at the Eagle.

Passing a newsstand, we see that Hugh Jackman has been named the sexiest man alive. This is mutually disagreeable. Mr. Jackman is definitely a woman’s idea of sexy. We, however, find him beautiful in a symmetrical and textbooked way, but not really sexy. I remark that Daniel Craig recently replied “Hugh Jackman” when asked for whom he would “go gay”. We weigh the merits of parting with cash for the privilege of seeing that match, and decide that there are preferable couplings, such as Benicio del Toro and Antonio Banderas. Even here, if you were to put ten gay men in a room, you’d have ten extremely different and equally adamant opinions about which straight male celebrities they would like to see paired. I think the list produced by ten straight women would be vastly different. Gay men can imagine manipulating a gorgeous brute, but straight women will dial up a man with greater gentility in his features.

We are now at Times Square to see the new Walgreen’s sign. I raise my gloved hands in the air and proclaim “Gay men can abide brutalism in their sexual fantasies but cannot abide it in architecture.” Here’s the reaction.



C and I drop this issue and begin to focus on a passing song, Cherish the Love by Kool and the Gang. Its lyrics are just plain stupid:

I often pray before I lay down by your side
And if you receive your calling before I awake
Could I make it through the night

(We are not sure if often is really hope and in the actual lyric, but it doesn’t matter. The author was probably aiming at a musical reference to the traditional “Now I lay me down to sleep” poem. His results are entirely botched. In his lyrics. he is basically saying that if the person asleep by his side should die in the course of the night, he’s not sure he could get a complete and decent night’s sleep. He is rather praying not to be inconvenienced. Cherish the love?? Yeah. Right. Also, we take delight in the chintzy but oddly mesmerizing moment when that song breaks into a sweet harmony on a single line: by your side. You know you love that moment in the song. Sing it. You know you want to.

We ponder other musical mysteries, such as, will that other Clinton, George, be invited to the inaugural events to perform his funkadelic Paint the White House Black. Not likely, given the lyrics. We wonder if we are now scraping the bottom of the barrel of oppression in asking for gay marriage. Blacks have achieved respectability. Gays are almost there. Who’s left? Practicioners of bestiality? Five years from now will we all be asked to help carry the banner of Mandola (The man/dog love association)?

I end the day mumbling about the fact that the word suitable should be followed by for, and that suited should be followed by to but, in either case, the calla lilies are in bloom again. Such a strange flower. Suitable to any occasion. I carried them on my wedding day, and now I place them here in memory of something that has died because neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.

This Gilbert and George t shirt in the gift shop of the Brooklyn Museum pretty much sums it all up.

Every day, I swear I will never go back there again.

At Starbucks, I have received my Grande Red-Eye and am standing at the preparation station where one adds sugar or its substitutes and cinnamon or nutmeg or vanilla or chocolate powder. I am studying the four dimly labeled canisters containing whole milk, half-and-half, skim milk and fat-free milk. You have to turn each one this way or that to locate and read the labels. Would it be too much to ask that Mr. And Mrs. Starbuck consider painting each of these a different color for the convenience of their customers?

A young quick-motioned woman dressed for a cold commute to a professional workplace is next to me at the station. She has stirred in her additives and is trying to jam the cap back on her twenty ounces of coffee, causing it to kick out from under her push and to spill over the counter, the floor and into an open shopping bag by her side that contained laundry, some paperwork and running shoes.

I looked up at her and saw the reason for this disaster. She had been trying to seal the cap one-handedly because her other hand pressed a cell phone against her ear.

I don’t want to blame her for the national gablaise of cell phone addiction that is ruining the mechanics of common congress but I was not going to let the moment pass unpegged.

“That would not have happened if you were not glued to that phone.”

“Tell that to my mother” she said, imitating my cadence and offering me the phone.

“Give it to me” I replied, and because this is a New York City story, she handed me her phone without a moment of hesitation.

“Hey lady, get off the phone and let your daughter have a life.”

“Who is this?” bellowed a Harvey Fiersteinish voice from the bottom of some dreadful well.

“Jesus, lady, you could cut diamonds with that voice, and a diamond is just what you daughter will never get if you keep her tied to the phone although I am considering marrying her just to free her from having to listen to you.”

“Put my daughter back on this phone or I’m calling the police!”

I handed the phone back to the young woman who put it up to her ear and then lowered it again, shifting her weight into a more relaxed pose, and, sounding like a Junior League version of her mama, she said “Thanks. So what’s your name?"

Today on Bilerico: Loving Your Old Gay Face

You will have to go to Bilerico after 4PM EST today to see my response to this catty little letter.

Fr. T,

I hear you’ve had some work done. Fess up. Care to recommend your doctor?

Anonymous


It's up. Get on it.

The Ladies Who Lost

Here's a great opportunity to speak directly with the three women who led the failed efforts to protect your rights in California, Arizona and Florida.

There will be a Live-Blog Thursday @ 7PM EST. On Bilerico

Ask Kate Kendell, Nadine Smith, and Barbara McCullough-Jones what went wrong, what they learned and what will be done differently from now on. Or, give them your opinion.





PS: I've learned that the above reminder box doesn't show up well on Safari. Use Firefox (my Confirmation name)

This post is so lagniappular.

Our word for today is lagniappe.

The perpetually fascinating Dick Cavett used it in The Wild Wordsmith of Wasilla, the most recent of his series in the New York Times. You'll find it in the post script to his article, indicating that he is throwing in a little something extra. A freebie. A bonus with purchase. An extra donut when you buy a dozen.

It is pronounced len - YEP. It's a southern thang, and its etymology is complicated.

All right, class. To make this word your own, I would like you now to use it in a sentence.

Let me give you an example:

When I saw him at the bar, I really fell for his handsome face, but in my bedroom, when he unzipped his jeans, I screamed at the sight of the huge lagniappe he was offering me.

Your turn.

City Hall Protest - Manhattan - Nov 15, 2008

The thousands who gathered in protest at Manhattan's City Hall Park on Saturday November 15, 2008 (as did concurrently folks in dozens of other communities across the nation) raised signs and voices and received encouraging words promising a world of justice if we could all just learn to love rather than hate. In other words, it was 1968 all over again. I wanted to brush the hair out of my eyes, hand the policeman a flower and hum a Laura Nyro song.

The rain cleared and a gorgeous fall day energized our family of protesters. Here are Craig, Foxy, ex- blogger Tommy (shaded), Chris, Wilson Cruz, Little Nick, Paul, C and Eric. (Anyone know the name of the guy in the white t?)



Also with us was Wolf, your bartender this past summer at The Vault in Provincetown. He has recently returned from a cross-country trip in a SmartCar.



Diversity reigned.









I got to meet long-time Farmboyz readers Jeff and Beau of Harlem.



Wilson posed with a couple together for ten years who wish they could become married (and take Wilson on their honeymoon).



Here we find Paul Vitale and Eric Leven stirring things up...sort of.



The Playgirl van circled the park a few times, the implications of which are pondered by a watchful cop.



A friend of ours, Manny Xavier, recited one of his poems.



Seriously, despite a few dumb moments at the podium, this event, like the one at the Mormon Temple earlier in the week, really did give me hope about the future and I was happy to see a new generation rise up in angry declaration of intolerance for injustice. The faces on the tourists in the double decker buses reminded me of the extreme value of events like this. It was a success. It was quite wonderful.