Friday, September 29, 2006

Do you know who you could be if I gave you this little shiny red hat?

Sesame Street - The People in Your Neighborhood
My memories of Bob from Sesame Street pretty much seal the whole born vs. raised thing when it comes to my gay. I can remember even then, as a boy of five or six (?), that I was especially fond of him, though I'm sure I couldn't quite put my finger on why at the time. On second thought, I think I did put my finger on it a few times while watching him. To this day I have a thing for cardigans. So yeah, born. Nature, not nurture. At least for me. Of course, I also couldn't get enough of Juliet Mills on The Nanny and the Professor, so there's that.

So who are the people in my neighborhood, you ask? Maybe that should be a new Pipedreams feature. I see all kinds of crazy, mostly at work. My actual neighborhood is peopled by typische suburban hausfraus and their broods. I live on Generic Circle, just off McPlainwrap. But work is a different story. I got one for ya. This guy's a real maroon. He's recently divorced after seven years (bless her for staying with him that long.....I could never have gotten past the teeth, but she did, and promptly ran smack into his personality), and finances have been a little tight. I can sympathize with that part. Anyway, his variable rate loan kept pushing the mortgage payments higher and with gas prices the way they've been, he was in a pinch. Instead of, oh, say selling or making some other accomodations (other than whining to his banker), he decided he'd "show them". How'd he stick it to the man, you ask? He went into the bank president's office and threw all his loan and title documents down and said, "Take it!". Zing!


Thursday, September 28, 2006

It's gettin' hot in herrre

A few weeks back I posted about how the carbon dioxide levels in our atmosphere are the highest they've been in 800,000 years. That's a long time, yo. Now comes news that Mother Earth is the hottest she's been in 12,000 years. Relative to the first number, 12,000 years doesn't seem like much, but that's like 10,000 years before babyjesus, people. And that was a minor speed bump 12,000 years ago. We are fast approaching temperatures the earth hasn't seen in..::pinky finger to lips, Dr. Evil-style:: one MILLION years. The scientists who know about these things feel like we are near the tipping point where, no matter what we do to reverse gears, it's gonna be too late. I know I'm harping on this topic, but this is apocalyptic shit right here, G. If it makes you uncomfortable, or bored, surf on, my brotha. And lest you think I'm all talk and no action, I'm taking a few concrete steps to diminish my impact on the earth. I'm getting ready to downsize my living situation. Do you think I'll be happy in less than 800 sf? I'm gonna give it a go. Ever notice that at least half the folks on Small Space, Big Style are homos? I'm also shopping hybrid vehicles. So yeah, that's all FUTURE sounding, so in the interim, I've done this.

Meanwhile, it appears the Bush administration is blocking release of a study which suggests that the increase in frequency and intensity of hurricanes may be due to global warming.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

You'll find he is a whiz of a Wiz, if ever a Wiz there was

There's a wonderful (hee!) interview with Sir Ian McKellan over at AfterElton. You already know he's uber-talented, but he also comes off as smart and funny and sincerely humble. Did I mention "funny"?
AE: Are you pleased about the revival of Bent?
IM: They started rehearsing yesterday. I saw Martin Sherman last night. He's very pleased with his cast. I was also in the company of Sean [Mathias] who directed the film. We both said, “Well, we hope the cast aren't too good!” [Laughs.] Alan Cumming, I think is a tremendous bit of casting. No one can tell Cumming about the seedy side of gay life. He knows as much as any man, I expect. That's very, very helpful for the character. I could never quite convince myself as a hard-drinking, drug-taking man who slept with anything in leather and chains. I think Alan will be able to cope with that very well.

How long 'til my soul gets it right?

Sudden Light

I have been here before,
But when or how I cannot tell:
I know the grass beyond the door,
The sweet keen smell,
The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.

You have been mine before,—
How long ago I may not know:
But just when at that swallow's soar
Your neck turned so,
Some veil did fall,—I knew it all of yore.

Has this been thus before?
And shall not thus time's eddying flight
Still with our lives our love restore
In death's despite,
And day and night yield one delight once more?

Isn't this gorgeous? It's by Daniel Dante Rossetti (would you hate me if I named my child Dante?) and although I don't subscribe to the idea of reincarnation as an actuality, I am deeply enamored of the incredibly comforting and searingly romantic aspects of it. Sometimes a person will burst into your life, TECHNICOLOR against the sepia throng, and you just get that feeling. Not that it always end well, does it? Some of these people bedevil us, but they always make an indelible mark on our lives.

Something I'm not fond of, however, is alternate endings. I won't watch them on DVDs. Flat out refuse. OK, I watched the alternate ending of Layer Cake* and, ick, that only reinforced my loathing. So it was with trepidation that I read this other version of Rossetti's poem, but as it turns out it's "alternate" for me, but the original as published. This replaces the final stanza above:

Then, now,—perchance again! . . . .
O round mine eyes your tresses shake!
Shall we not lie as we have lain
Thus for Love's sake,
And sleep, and wake, yet never break the chain?

Dreamy either way, no?

*To the haters who are boycotting Daniel Craig as Bond: y'all crazy. He is gonna pull that shit off in fine style. FOO-INE style. And he makes my mouth water.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Don't make any sudden movements....

.....cuz you're ON NOTICE!

Make your own board or just put them ON NOTICE in the comments.

Monday, September 25, 2006

Limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns

You've all seen PostSecret by now, of course. As that site has become more well known, I find myself questioning the new entries. Don't some of them strike you as fictional and purely for effect? In the case of this one, I can only pray it's made up. This country is litigating and legislating gays out of marriage and adoption, but we're content to have people like this schmuck raising our youth? Isn't parental love supposed to be like the Beatles lyric in this post's title, all unconditional and shit? Loving a kid less for being gay is like loving him less for being tall. Or smart. Or hung. Or impeccably dressed.

image from PostSecret via Duane Moody

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Makes any boy feel as pretty as princes

It happened again. As is so often the case, it starts out innocently enough. It's usually a Sunday morning and as I appraise my naked image in the bathroom mirror I find myself thinking, "Oh, my chest could use a little trimming." No big deal, right? Pull out the trimmer and set the guide to 4 (or 3, if I'm feeling the call of friskily sleek!) (one can't rightly gambol and frolic with 4 length chest hair, darlin') and voile', cleaned up with minimal time wasted. Only sometimes it don't go down like that, Homes. While there's no apparent demarcation for when things devolve, I start out with a minor trim in mind and the next thing I know I am Ethan Hawke in the opening scene of Gattaca. (Oh, and Ethan, you married UP, bubbela, so when you toss that away, you look even more stupid than your facial hair suggests.) Anyway, in a blink the vanity is strewn with the accoutrement of my cleansing/polishing/shearing/debriding. These implements won't amend genetic imperfection, as Ethan's Vincent Freeman discovered, so what exactly am I trying to hide/remove? Is that even a question I should ask myself, or should I just revel in my hydrated, dermabraded bad self? And while you're pondering that, how about grabbing that sea salt scrub and doing my back?

Friday, September 22, 2006

Strut down the street and have your picture took

Now you know I loves me some Barbra Streisand as much as the next gay, but I am not about to pony up $150-$600 dollars to see her ONLY OHIO ENGAGEMENT in her FINAL TOUR. Bitch is worse than Cher with this FINAL TOUR shit. Gay icons, why must you do me this way? And goodnightinthemorning woman, save the titty shots for Brolin. nsfw (or anywhere, really)

Lessee. My first day back in weeks and I've covered Audrey, Barbra and a wee bit of Cher. Yeah, that should just about do it.

Oh, one more thing. I just got back from the gym and I did this thing that I do when I need a little pick-me-up. Cuz it never fails to amuse. What? No, not that. Jesus, y'all are dirty birds. What I like to do sometimes is imagine that everyone there is working out to the same tunes I am. Like it's piped into the gym or something. Now many of my workout songs are typical pump-u-up fare, but today, when all the second shift dudes were straining and stretching and grunting along to Put On Your Sunday Clothes from Hello, Dolly, well, I just couldn't keep from grinning. I know it's all in my head, but I'd swear I saw a little extra shimmy in their workout thang. It wouldn't have surprised me to see one of them swan his arms out, either. But it hasn't happened yet.
Beneath your bowler brim the world's a simple song
A lovely lilt that makes you tilt your nose
Get out your slickers, your flannel knickers
Your red suspenders and hose
For there's no blue Monday in your Sunday clothes
There. Carol Channing as your nightcap, darlings.

Barbra picture via D-Listed

And it's been a while

Yeah, it's been a while. Since I've blogged, sure, but also since I, well, pulled the lever for democracy. Both of these absences have been due to a bit of a blue period I've been going through. Within an hour, that's all changed. As for the blogging, I'm not sure how that's gonna come out. And the other thing? I'm sure that's gonna come out of my t-shirt just fine with a little Shout. I should know better than to leave my top on. I swear it's like there's a target on my right shoulder.

I'm not even gonna tell you how many times I've watched Breakfast at Tiffany's during this lil' lull. I won't even tell myself. You've seen it, right? They took a singular book and made it into kind of a generic crap movie. Only they cast Audrey Hepburn in it, and it ended up something magical. When she's onscreen, you just can't tear your eyes off her. OK, you can, but only for a few seconds to check out how impossibly handsome George Peppard was back then. Who knew? And apparently in the early 60's, it was totally OK to portray Asians in a wildly offensive and over-the-top stereotypical fashion. Holla, Mickey Rooney! Audrey, gone lo these many years, is still my big gay crush, thanks in large part to TiVo's "Save Until I Delete" setting, and more recently thanks to her star turn in the new Gap commercial. ::slides into skinny black pants:: Do these make my ass look big?"And I could certainly use a release" is my new catchphrase. Or mantra. Note to self: pick up more Shout.

--thoughts, images and emissions in this post were inspired in part or whole by wingedman will

Monday, September 04, 2006

Instead of messing with our future

I know there are still people who think all the discussion of global warming is overblown. I've heard people say that they think it's just normal climate fluctuations that occur over time. While I respect that everyone is entitled to their opinion, wake the fuck up. When your opinion is baseless speculation spoonfed to you by special interests, you're just embarrassing yourself when you open your mouth. Scientists have ways of determining if the global increase in greenhouse gases is part of the normal climatic fluctuations. They can take deep ice samples and determine the levels of CO2 that were in the atmosphere when the ice was formed. They've just gone back as far as they ever have. 800,000 years. You think that's long enough to take into account these "normal fluctuations"? Not only have they found that greenhouses gases are far above what they have ever been in the last 800,000 years, they've discovered a scary bit about the rate these gases are increasing. In the entire span of the ice sample (800,000 years, remember?), the fastest increase in CO2 concentrations was on the order of 30 parts per million (ppm) over one thousand years. Until now. The most recent increase of 30 ppm? It's occurred in 17 years.If you were one of the two people (confession time: I was the first) who used my blog to pledge a look at An Inconvenient Truth, you have my undying love. I'd like to show it. How about a lifetime pass to the VIP tent at the annual Pipedreams Convention? No? I'll think of something. Seriously, when you are voting this November, shouldn't this be an issue at the front of your mind? All the other stuff ain't gonna mean shit in about 50 years. I'll be gone.....OK, I'll be fabulously 90, but odds are you'll be gone....but your kids/grandkids/nieces and nephews won't. Watch the film and then if I'm full of shit, call me out. Oh, and check it out. Al Gore and Melissa Etheridge have a Celebrity Playlist on iTunes. It's interesting, if only for the knowledge that Al and Tipper bought Monkey Business. Ewww. I'm not a huge Melissa Etheridge fan, but her song I Need To Wake Up that plays over the end credits of Al's movie is a good one. Bitch wails a lot, but it just means she feels deeply, people. I guess.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

The batter swings and the summer flies

It's Labor Day weekend here in the US, a much needed holiday for me. I haven't made any grand plans. Well, except for a few that existed solely in my head (and on Mapquest). I'd have been running along Lake Michigan this morning had I only followed through and jumped in my car after work yesterday. Instead, I'm reflecting a bit. And lying around a bit. And eating. A lot.

Since Labor Day typically marks the end of summer (though it damn well better not mark the end of warm weather), today's paper had a Man On The Street quiz which posed the question, "What's the best thing that's happened to you this summer?" Here are a few of the replies:
  • Finding out my wife and daughter were safe after a car accident.
  • I landed a new job at Mead.
  • When I found out I got into law school at UD.
  • Discovering Taco Bell. They don't have them in Germany.
Well, good for you, Julia Meier. Next up, get ready to discover the fat ass you didn't have in Germany. Anyway, I decided to add my own. The best thing that happened to me this summer was a day in early July when my sister from Florida was visiting with her kids. She and her husband had a wedding to attend in Cincinnati, so I was hanging out at my parent's place watching her five year old son and two year old daughter. It was a hot and humid day. I'd considered bringing the kids to a local pool, but my Mom wasn't feeling well and I didn't want to leave her home alone. I hit on the idea of a blow-up pool and a slip-n-slide, so we drifted through an afternoon of splashing around on our backs in a 5x5 puddle of a pool and diving headlong down a slick strip of plastic. How does that sound to you? For me, it was heaven. The kids had a great time and found my wild dives down the slide hilarious. (PS? You may have found me hot, manscaped and in my pale blue board shorts.) I made some lemonade and cut up some fruit for a snack. We threw a frisbee. Grilled some hotdogs. Rode bikes/trikes. Soon, the afternoon was gone and the little one fell asleep on my lap. I put her down for a nap and her big brother and I went to see an early showing of Superman Returns. For two hours he and I were rapt. It was early evening when the movie ended and the summer air was still warm. As we walked through the parking lot hand in hand, both of us in madras shorts and t-shirts, me in flip-flops, he in little red Crocs, he looked up at me with a big smile and said, "When I meet Superman, I'm gonna tell him how you took me to see his movie." There you have it, kids. That day in early July was easily the best thing that happened to me this summer.

We are tangled and brave, leaking and saved

Curse that International Date Line, I almost forgot to post up about my beloved Andrew's birthday. Head DOWN UNDER and wish my boy all the best. I spent so much on my gift, that I couldn't afford the express shipping. I hope he gets there in time.