We gon' party like it's your birfday

I saw this irrepressible character over on D-Listed this week and I can't stop looking at her. You make it to 100 and you can smoke 'em if you got 'em, I guess. But I'll take mine outside if that's OK. What? Yeah, sure, ala mode, but sans ash, sil vous plait.

I'm free to do what I want any old time

You remember that my house is on the market, right? Hush now, but there's been a nibble. Shush! Send me all the good vibrations quietly. Needless to say, I'm Kluming right now (i.e. on pins and needles). If this happens, it's gonna be mostly liberating, but a little scary, as I have no idea where I'll go.

The sun is shining, c'mon get happy!

The sun was definitely shining last Thursday when I was queued up for the Rufus Wainwright concert over in lovely Cowlumbus, Ohio. 100F, people. And SULTRY, as my Grandma Bets was so fond of saying. I can't seem to organize my thoughts today, so it's bullet points, k?

• I was very pleased to discover that Rufus' voice is so strong and clear and beautiful. It's a unique instrument, and I wondered how he'd sound outside a recording studio, especially in an outdoor venue. The answer: marvelous. And he had a horn section. 'Nuf said.
  
• The set was taken heavily from his latest album, Release The Stars, which was fine by me as it's been the soundtrack of most of my summer. The highlight for me was Between My Legs, but that was tempered by the realization that I totally should have submitted a YouTube video to audition for the spoken word portion of that song. The blonde/bland girl that won was OK, but nowhere near as theatrical as was called for. If RW is coming to your town, send a video in and show folks how it should be done, homos.
  
• After a brief intermission, Rufus came back out in lederhosen. Yay! He did a series of songs which he connected with some anecdotes, forming a "European" set. But the encores, pets, oh, the encores! When my man came out in a fluffy, white robe to do a song with the band and then a few solo at the piano, I felt the night was complete. So, so wrong.
  
• Picture it. Rufus, still in his white robe, sits on a chair at center stage. The lights go out but for a spotlight on him. The band noodles around in the dark while he reaches into a bag to put on a sparkly ring. Then matching earrings. Then red lipstick. Then black pumps. He stands and turns. The spotlight goes off. He drops the robe, and when the lights come up, he's JUDY. This Judy, all longs legs and stockings. It's kind of a blur after that. I think I may have passed out for a few seconds, but I do remember him launching into C'mon Get Happy, and I did. I forgot my troubles and I got happy, y'all. Best encore I've seen in forever. Maybe it was the stockings and heels, but brother's got some stems.
  

Day will break and you'll awake and start to bake

It's the other side of the world where my buddy Andrew lives. He's probably sleeping, but since he's tapped into the gay collective unconscious (as we all are), he's also probably pup-tenting the sheets right now, though he may not know exactly why until morning. (click to enlarge)
Wentworth Miller and Luke McFarlane have a stroll. I'm not reading anything into it. Just enjoying the breezy moment.

Luke! I am your Daddy!

OK, I couldn't resist.

But I want an Oompa Loompa NOW, Daddy!

I hope this is true because my iPod has long been too small to handle my music library and the waiting, she is seriously starting to harsh my mellow.

We can't return, we can only look behind

Both Men's Health and Details have been so kind this month as to tell me just how far along I am on the path of steady decay. They've done it in the guise of skin care guides for men divided by decade. Now I understand that there will be fine lines and wrinkles. Age spots and discoloration, even. And my hairline is a gentle (lately) reminder of the direction I'm heading. Still, some of this shit is downright depressing. Specifically:

By the late forties, it’s all downhill, as the lax skin on the cheeks, lips, eyelids, and jaw is unable to resist the tug of gravity and starts to droop. The fat pads beneath your eyes also begin to slide, causing puffy bags and a tired appearance. “Even the tip of your nose starts to point south as the support structure of cartilage breaks down,” Matarasso says. Last, as the body continues to age, it begins to redistribute fat; on your face, that shows up as deflated cheeks and sunken temples.

My damn nose is gonna start dripping off my face? The neck is one that really gets me, though. I don't think I've really accepted that one day I won't have a neck. That point was driven home the other day when I was shaving and the skin kinda folded under the blade a little. Next stop, gobble gobble fer fucksake! Wattle I do then?

Oh, and these "guides" don't even venture into the 50s. I guess you're already beyond fucked by then, so I guess it's best to start drowning my sorrows around 48.

One thing, this guy they have as an example of 40s skin is damn hot.Slap a kilt on him and you won't hear from me for a week. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to schedule a series of Aveda Botanical Skin Resurfacing treatments.

Wearing tubesocks with style, and such an innocent smile

Movies, movies, movies. Where's all the music and cute boys?Right here. I am still in the afterglow of crushing on Dave Koz, and now at the last minute I've decided to catch Rufus Wainwright's show in Columbus tomorrow. It's not such a stretch between the two. Both comely queers. Both with a theatrical bent. Both with the sweeping orchestration. Just different paths, lambs. I could hardly be more excited about Rufus the Baptist. His Release the Stars has been the soundtrack of most of my summer.Lawn seats are still available. Who wants to come with?

Big boy, come on around, and they'll be calling you baby

Ugh. I'm kinda sad clown today. OK, I'm actually ridiculously, extravagantly sad clown today. For no good reason. I gotta say, this helps. Wasn't Mika supposed to take the whole country by storm, and not just my fancy pants? I'm looking forward to Ugly Betty coming back.

In other Betty news, I would have killed to be at the recent celebrity charity auction where they were treated to Michael Urie (Mark) and Becki Newton (Amanda) performing You Don't Bring Me Flowers as Neil Diamond and Barbra Streisand. You KNOW there was a catfight over who got which part. Oh, and America Ferrera did something from Gypsy while Jerry O'Connell danced. In skimpy drag. Who does a brother have to blow to get invited to these things?

We have lived and dreamed, we two alone

Time for more movies! But first (holla, Julie Chen!), I'd like to inject a personal note. My house is still on the market, people. I know, I know, it's only been three weeks and it's a tragically soft market, but patience? She requires a certain depth of character, and well, you've met me, right? Anyway, quite a few lookers, but no offers as of yet. Two more showings tonight, though, so wish me luck. Maybe I need to do one of those cleansing rituals, Jeff Lewis-stizz. "Time to get some new candles!" was such a great line from Ryan, Jeff's present business partner/former sexy-time partner. He's teh compact hotness, non? Love him. And Jenni, the saucer-eyed assistant with a penchant for speaking in acronyms...love her, too. And don't get me started on Jeff's inflated lips. No love. PS? If you haven't been watching Flipping Out on BRAVO, oh darling, do so at your first convenience.

Oh yeah, movies. La Vie En Rose. See it. I was only peripherally aware of Edith Piaf before. Yes, my name is Mike, and I am a Philistine. Lambs, she is my new queen. The Little Sparrow was the French Judy Garland, entrancing a nation with her unique voice and riveting stage presence, while suffering some wicked demons in her private life. Raised by parents, grandparents and prostitutes, Edith endured poverty, disease, loss, drug addiction, and even blindness (which was blessedly temporary....thanks, St. Theresa!). If Marion Cotillard doesn't get an Oscar nomination for this, it can only be because the movie is in French.Yes, in French with subtitles. Consider that a heads up to all you mouth-breathin', freedom frie-eatin' beyotches. The rest of y'all should see this movie. I can't leave you without a look at the Sparrow herself, singing Hymne a l'Amour, which I adore.

Finally, though not a theatrical release, I also caught High School Musical 2, natch. As I told Charlie, I watched HSM 1 first, because I'd never seen it all the way through, and with the intricate plotting and depth of characterization, I thought it best that I refreshed my memory. Good thing, too, because Sharpay and Ryan are layered, yo.Enjoyable.

We're after the same rainbow's end

For me, this weekend was all about the movies. May I share?

First, the soundtrack for my weekend was At The Movies, the latest release from my boi Dave Koz. You know, the guy I saw in concert? Totally talented and totally adorable? The one who stopped by Pipedreams last week? (!!!!) You heard me. For a few minutes, there were zero degrees of separation between me and Dave Koz. There was no need for Kevin Bacon to be involved at all. Although.......Yep, that guy. I picked up some of his old stuff and I'm finishing off the summer floating down his smooth jazz river, my hand lazily dipped into his saxy waters.....um, where was I? Oh yeah, the movies.

Becoming Jane, stars Anne Hathaway as the titular Jane (Austen), and if you need CATEGORIES, it's a chick flick. But a brainy one. And with accents. Yeah, I know. PERFECT for me. Turns out that a movie about Jane's young life plays out pretty much like a movie based on the young life of one of Jane's heroines. Jane had a star-crossed Pride and Prejudice-style love all her own, with Tom LeFroy taking the role of her real-life Mr. Darcy.Lefroy is played by the boyishly handsome James McAvoy and I spent a good portion of this movie wondering what else I knew him from. A quick googling and all was revealed. Mr. Tumnus! From half man/half beast to hotheaded sexy beast. Nice! If you like seeing Jane Austen novels adapted to the screen, you'll like seeing her actual life up there at least as much.

OK, a little bird, a Little Sparrow specifically, tells me that we have two more movies to go, but no time right now. Curse my workaday life! The next movie is about said bird and I'll give you a heads up: she crazy. She makes Judy Garland look like a Girl Scout. Like a Mormon Girl Scout. Is there such a thing? And the last movie I saw this weekend....well, I bet you can guess, because we're all in this together. Stay tuned!

You're just a natural born beehive filled with honey to the top

If you're bored right now, flip over to some coverage of the vigil outside Graceland. You there? Now scan the crowd and decide: drag queen or just a Southern lady. Fun! But not easy.

I feel the tension in my lungs and every move is fueled by my resolve to breathe

I've toyed with the idea of tagging my posts (such as they are), but I think that would show that they're 85% cute boys, with the remaining 15% a hodgepodge of music, books and shopping. I realize it, but I'm not sure I want to see it in black and white, you know? Although it does give you a fairly good idea of how dinner conversation would be with me.

Anyway, here's a shopping one. I picked up these beauties over the weekend and ran in them for the first time today. They are the new Nike Zoom RS+.I know! So pretty. They are very light and the ZOOM cushioning is nice. Definitely not the soft ride you get from true Nike AIR, though, so I'll be using them for shorter runs (less than 5 miles) or when I need to feel fast. Notice I didn't say I'd actually BE fast. So yes, they feel good, and yes, they fit well, but I think my favorite thing about them is they make me feel like even though most of me is in rural Ohio, from the ankles down I'm in Toontown.

I'm not faggy, I'm just drawn that way. ::wink::

Oooh, mind if I tack on some MOVIE and CUTE BOY onto this post? I just noticed that The Lookout is now on DVD. If you missed this Joseph Gordon-Levitt noirish thriller when it was in the theaters, by all means check it out on video. Suspenseful! And Jeff Daniels continues his recent hot streak (hot as in "good acting", I mean).

Time... I've been passing time watching trains go by

It's interesting, because my commitment right now to putting all the cards on the table, professionally speaking, is a commitment to myself to write a new script. I realized that this 10-year-old boy--I'm talking about me--wrote my life script. OK, this is a part of me, but I'm just going to keep it dormant. I'm just going to push it down, push it away, and I'm going to be able to fill that void with other things.

Huh. Not just me, then. That's Dave Koz, 42, jazz saxophonist. I saw him last week at the Fraze Pavilion, here in beautiful Dayton, Ohio. Laugh if you will at my proclivity for SMOOTH JAZZ/INSTRUMENTAL POP, but he put on a great show. Loved it. He had David Benoit along on piano (genius!), as well as the vocal stylings of the lovely Kelly Sweet (has a current ADULT CONTEMPORARY hit with Raincoat) and Phil Perry. Phil Perry blew the roof off the place, y'all. His take on It Might Be You (Theme from Tootsie) rocked my socks (India Arie sings it on Dave's new CD). I went alone, natch, but quickly bonded with the strong black woman next to me. She was all vocal and shit during that song. You know, like suddenly hollering "Sing, Phil!" and "That's it! That's it!" She was almost as fun as the show.

Later, when Dave's bass player did a Theme from Shaft bit, I may have squealed. As you will. My sister smacked me and said, "You don't even know Shaft, you young thing." Wait. You mean you're gonna be fun AND act like I'm not even 40? Well then you leave me no choice but to love you.

Good, good show and a really interesting guy, Dave Koz. He's a Grammy-nominated artist, co-owns an independent record company, hosts an afternoon radio show, and does some really cool humanitarian work for kids. Something's telling me it might be you, Dave.

Time... I've been passing time watching trains go by
All of my life...
Lying on the sand, watching seabirds fly
Wishing there would be
Someone waiting home for me...

What a wicked game you play

Someone figured a way to find the IP addresses of the previously anonymous "editors" over at Wikipedia. I'm suddenly a little obsessed to find how much corporate and governmental spin is going on over at the Free Dictionary Anyone Can Edit. Are you sitting? Scientology has done a little burnishing. Still sitting? As has the US government.

Every time he smiles at me, I know that we're the same

OK, Nick gone (see last post). NEXT! What? It's not like the fickle fancy of the faggot isn't well documented, little chickens. Tonight I've moved on to the Israeli hotness that is Ivri Lider.OMGah. As long as we're trafficking in stereotypes, we may as well admit that we're a visually focused lot, so his looks don't hurt his appeal, certainly.But if you're not sold already, have a listen and look at him singing one of my favorite Gershwin tunes.

You're putty, right? Just like M.E.

His first US single, Jesse, is on iTunes and on the CD Revolutions from Sony/Columbia's GLBT label. It's a beautiful song and you can watch that video here.

Hey, if you ain't gonna use it, just give it to us....we'll give it a HOME (or An Ode to Big Brother's Nick)

We're likely on the eve of his eviction, so I feel like I have to toss off a little (public) homage to my Big Brother crush, Nick. Of course he's been feted privately more than once. Trust.I know! He's cartoonishly hyper-muscular and has those Cro-Magnon features that will make my back arch involuntarily. What's not to love, right? He's flirty with the girls.... AND the boys.What else? Oh yeah, within the first few days in the house he talked about sucking off some dude AND he has a Top Five list of guys he'd fuck around with. Ryan Reynolds is on said list, if I recall correctly.(Yes, that's a completely gratuitous Ryan Reynolds shot, but then again, aren't they all?) Where was I? Oh yeah, Nick. As amply evidenced this season, Nick is not afraid of looking stupid (which freakgirl equates with "blast in the sack" and I heartily concur). In that spirit, he's now given himself a mohawk, which gives me the tinglesack and I don't care what you bitches say about it. Oh, and he sings Mika in the shower!

::sigh:: Hang in there, buddy! I'm still hoping against hope that Jesus steps in and saves your hot ass. If that's in His plan, of course. Jameka says God is gangsta (that's what she loves about Him) so maybe He'll be swayed by your tats or something. Seriously, people, what's a Big Brother house devoid of man candy? It's last season once Dr. Will was gone, that's what.

ADDED: Here's another funny tidbit for you.

..I think A.C. Slater quite possibly could be the dreamiest guy ever (sigh)...

That's from Nick's MySpace page.