Sometimes it's good to re-visit a blog. This originally appeared on the Some Like It Scott site last October, the week before Halloween...and yes, it STILL gets me "started!"

A Witch, A Princess And A SLUT??? – Don’t Get Me Started!

The warning about this blog is that I quite possibly have become an old person. That’s right, I’m probably moments away from complaining about those crazy kids with their long hair and the rock and roll. But continue this I must. Have you seen the Halloween costumes for kids? Well, back in my day we were cartoon characters or your classic costumes, you know, the doctor, the lawyer, the accountant (okay, maybe that was only us Jews and our mothers projecting). I think the craziest my brother and I ever got was when he went as the werewolf from the Groovy Goulies and I think I was Count Chocula. Girls were either witches, princesses or nurses. That was about the extent of the variety. But when I open my door next week and I’m doing the perfunctory, “Oh you’re a…” I fully expect to finish that sentence with “…a witch, a princess and a SLUT?” – Don’t Get Me Started!

Much like everyone else in the world it’s not enough for kids to be Cinderella anymore, they all want to be, “hot”. What “hot” is exactly and why a seven year old needs to be it I’m sure I don’t know. I’m not a parent but if I was, you can bet my child would not be wearing some of those costumes that are in the store. The “sexy devil” costume or even dressing like Paris Hilton is just too damn much in my opinion. Thing is, that they have them in adult and kid sizes so you can be Slutty McGee and Slutty McGee Jr. Even if you’re a stereotypical Jerry Springer guest it disgusts me that some “moms” think it’s cute to dress their daughters like trash. And please don’t tell me, “Well, she wanted to wear it, what are you going to do?” I’ll tell you what you’re going to do, you’re going to put your foot down and use a word that kids and the sluts they’re dressing like aren’t familiar with, “NO!” before you end up on Maury having your child yelled at by that guy that wears the sweater vests with no shirt and supposedly shows kids right from wrong. I’ve got a nutty idea, why don’t you parents take matters in your own hands before you have to go to a professional?

But back to the original topic, I can think of plenty of girl costumes that are completely acceptable. There’s “Hermione” from Harry Potter, “Barbie” a classic, and finally “The Little Mermaid” (after all, it just came out of the Disney vaults – you know those vaults that open every few years to increase cash flow for the Mouse). It’s just the minute I see a seven year old in a jumpsuit trying to be Halle Berry as “Catwoman” or Nicole Richie or God forbid (and I know we’re going to see them this year, people) one in a sequined dress with a suitcase trying to be a Deal Or No Deal girl that I’m going to lose it.

In addition, please no children in no costume coming to the door for candy this year. Deal is you have to wear a costume or no deal, no candy and I don’t want to know you. If you’re not wearing a costume, it’s called begging not trick or treating. And I don’t want to hear that some parents are too poor to get their child a costume because all it takes is a bandana filled with paper on a stick and some of Dad’s old clothes and you’ve got yourself a classic that most people haven’t seen in years, “The Hobo!” I know, I know what you’re thinking, “The Hobo” is normally reserved for when you’re about fifteen and said you weren’t going out but then you realize there’s all that candy out there so you quickly reach for the flannel shirt and bandana but dammit, these poor kids need it now, they can’t wait until they’re fifteen. By the same token, don’t send to France for your child’s costume spending a thousand dollars either because I’m only going to look at it for maybe ten seconds and then throw a Snickers at it. 

I truly hope that I’m wrong. I hope when I open that door there are more Little Mermaids and Elmos then I can throw a stick at but I know I’m going to open that door at some point and say, “A witch, a princess and a SLUT?” – Don’t Get Me Started!”

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It’s Halloween Time On The Las Vegas Strip (Or Is It?) – Don’t Get Me Started!

There are plenty of reasons why Las Vegas retains its title, “Sin City” and perhaps there’s no time that this is more apparent than around the Halloween holiday. There is the Pimp and Ho Ball, there is the Fetish and Fantasy Ball…well, let’s face it, there are a lot of balls in Vegas at this time of year. (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) But as I drove home from work yesterday (stuck on the magnificent driving nightmare that is the Strip) I looked around and thought it’s Halloween time on the Las Vegas Strip (or is it?) – Don’t Get Me Started!

You see, people come to Las Vegas to let their hair, skirts and pants down. That’s right. If you ever board a flight on its way to Vegas, even from some close location like LA, the minute you get on the plane it starts. It’s only a forty-five minute flight but they’re all all ready partying and trying to get their “buzz” on before they hit the Strip, man. Never mind that what they’ll be going home with two days later are empty pockets and hangovers, the hopeful trip over is all about getting the party started (as Pink once said).

And because it’s basically the adult party capital of the world, everyone seems to pull out those little known items that have been tucked away in the back of their closet or underwear drawer just for their trip to Vegas. For some reason, because it’s Vegas everyone thinks that they can wear glitter, sequins and skorts (and some of them are even women). No matter what it is that they have on (men or women) it’s usually six sizes too small because the only time they wear these special clothes is when they come to Vegas and they don’t bother to update the “naughty clothes” before they arrive. Never mind that women find it acceptable now everywhere to wear crop tops with their stomachs hanging over the top to the point where you can’t tell if the pants close with a button or a snap. (Muffin tops, is apparently the term for this phenomenon). What you see more often than not here are the women who walk the Strip at 8am in their black slinky dress from the night before that has three sequins left on it, their shoes are in their hand so they’re walking around the Strip barefoot, the makeup would make a hooker want to give the woman a make-under and finally, she has a Corona in her hand because after all, it’s Vegas. The man with her is almost always in jeans and a short sleeved shirt no doubt purchased by the woman he’s with that is too glittery and tight (his gut trying to fight its way out of the straining buttons of the polyester garment) and he too has a Corona. Now to the untrained eye, this may look like Halloween costumes – the whore and her John; when in fact, it’s just John and Candy from Arkansas.

Yesterday I did see some people with wings on walking the Strip but once again, not so unusual here so you have to wonder if it’s a costume or just what they packed to wear on Tuesday? There’s always a bride to be with a tiara and sometimes veil on her head walking the Strip and always a body builder guy whose clothes are so tight that you wonder if he bought them that way or just didn’t understand the settings on the dryer at home. Guys usually are more subdued but make no mistake about it, here’s where they pull out that kilt to wear that they got when they went to Scotland that summer in college in 1991. Here’s where they wear the shirts with such snappy phrase as, “I forgot my number, can I have yours?” Trust me when I say that there are times when the men can be just as bad if not worse than the women.

And at the end of it all, you have to ask yourself, “Why not?” If it makes people happy to leave their lives as Jim and Mary behind and become Jonah and Melinda for a week as they try to pick up couples to swing with at the Fetish and Fantasy Ball who am I to say they’re doing anything wrong? But what I want you all to know is that when it comes to sightseeing crazy people, you never have to worry about whether it’s Halloween or not because believe me when I say, people come here all year round and they dress to suppress their day to day lives wherever they live. So come to Vegas at Halloween but know that no matter what time of year it is, you’re bound to see the bride of Frankenstein, fairies (in male and female variety) and always what seemed to be a last minute costume when you were in high school, “the over it and used up whore” costume – just add lots of makeup and sleep in what you wore the night before and you’re good to go. Just another reason to love Las Vegas! It’s Halloween time on the Las Vegas Strip (or is it?) – Don’t Get Me Started!

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How Many Gays Does It Take To Counter Act An Ex-Gay On Obama’s Gospel Tour? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know it sounds like some old joke but this was the case this past weekend as Barack Obama kicked off what they’re calling his gospel tour. Never mind that first we should be all asking ourselves what in the world should a gospel tour have to do with politics but then let’s face it, Jesus (or saying that you know him) has helped almost every official get elected in recent times. So go ahead and have your gospel tour, Mr. Obama but how you could expect the gays to stand quietly by as you put Donnie McClurkin on the bill, a well known ex-gay singer who denounces all things gay (unless he’s sleeping with one, which according to sources, he’s still doing)? Even putting a creepy looking gay minister (Rev. Andy Sidden) didn’t help the situation and do you know why? Because you can’t do this like a math problem (I was never good at math) and this one sounds like one of those horrible word problems that could never be solved by me. How many gays does it take to counter act an ex-gay on Obama’s gospel tour? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Here’s the thing. I was done with political correctness a long, long time ago because it seems that it’s a bunch of sitting in the middle when I have always lived my life in the extremes. In my estimation, you can’t sit on the fence without getting a post up your ass (and yes, some may like it). Yet politicians try, try, try again to do this to little or no success. Let’s face it, at this point we gays are supposedly supposed to be deciding between Hillary and Barack but neither one of them seems to have the balls to come out and take a stand on how they feel about us gays, well not really. So we continue to stand around in limbo once again choosing between the evils. Aren’t you tired of always having to settle for a candidate that is the less of two evils? I know that I am. But I also know that politics (especially on the national scale) isn’t too different than your high school student body elections. It’s about who is the most popular and to get to be the most popular you have to have make your opinions the ones that you think most people around you have or think they should have. Can you see how that’s confusing enough to write and read let alone it working? I don’t know but it certainly seems to work for these politicians time and time again.

I’m disappointed in both Barack and Hillary. You say you like us gays but you can’t let us get married. You say you want our money and support but then you create a gospel tour with someone who not only is anti-gay but goes out of his way to play on the fears of gay black men. Extorting money from them to attend his seminars where he can supposedly wave his magic wand (and you know what they say about ex-gays and their wands) and turn them into a tit loving heterosexual! Good luck. Experience has shown time and time again that you can get someone to squelch their desires for a long time but at some point they either explode and become a porn star or are doing people in the restroom stall next to them while their poor wife and kids sit at home waiting for them to bring God only knows what disease home because they are so in denial they don’t even get that they should protect themselves or their wives. (Enter Mrs. McGreevey, Mrs. Craig and a long line of poor women duped by gay men.) And I pity the woman (if there is one) that is with McClurkin. Can you even imagine? But this whole ex-gay agenda is what creates these “stall cases” who are gay but not a gay that any self-respecting gay wants to be with, to tell you the truth.

I guess maybe it’s time to start looking at John Edwards again. He’s got the look of Robin from Batman and Robin so he probably would have made a better Vice President but that time passed, as we all know. I think everyone is mainly interested in getting Hillary in the White House because we all want to see what her first fellow, Bill is going to do. He’s like the guy in college that goes to every party and always manages to do something that gets the crowd hysterical. But no matter who wins we gays are always going to lose. And yet we’re constantly trying to make lemonade (in a flattering shade). We look at it the same way the pre-World War II Jews looked at it, “Well, they’re telling us we all need to move into a ghetto together. At least we’ll have our family around us.” Next it was, “What do you mean we have to travel on trains to a work camp? Didn’t we all ready do this; didn’t we make the pyramids for that son of a bitch Pharaoh? Oh well, we’ll all get thin from the work.” And finally, “A shower? Honestly, who knew I smelled so bad?” Well, that’s my question to these candidates, why do we smell so bad? And if you think we’re getting into those showers without you alongside us, you’re once again underestimating us gays. (And if you do get in the shower with us, thank God you’ve been watching HBO and will know how it all works!)

Look as a white Jewish gay man I certainly can’t influence who gets chosen for the Obama Gospel Bash. But no matter how cynical I become it won’t stop me from voting. Hey, it’s one of the few things I’m still allowed to do (at the moment).  So I wish Obama luck (though I don’t know that he needs it with Oprah backing him) and I wish Hillary well, I just wish they felt the same about me and my fellow gays. Until then we’ll have to try to figure out this ridiculous word problem riddle, how many gays does it take to counter act an ex-gay on Obama’s gospel tour? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Random Acts Of Niceness – Don’t Get Me Started!

I don’t know if I’d call them random acts of kindness like everyone else but I recently had a couple experiences that really made me start to think about all of the just general niceness that was taught me by my parents and that seem to boggle people’s minds when it comes their way. Let’s face it, it’s easy to be evil but (like comedy) sometimes niceness can be hard (okay boys, simmer down). Random acts of niceness – Don’t Get Me Started!

Last week I was rushing to the airport in Long Beach to return the rental car and run to the gate in time to get on my flight. Now I’m someone who is always at least seventeen hours early for everything (apparently including a career in the show business) but be that as it may, I got there with a short half hour to spare before boarding the plane. I was sweaty (for all the wrong reasons) and just had time to go to the restroom, think of Larry Craig and not tap my foot before they started the boarding process. I was one of the first people on the plane. Soon after I got seated, I saw this woman in her sixties (at least) shlepping down the aisle with a carry on roller bag that was nominated for “most unlikely to fit in an overhead bin.” As she approached, I automatically stood up and asked if I could put her bag up for her. A bit dumbfounded, she stared at me and nodded and after wrestling a bit I managed to get her bag in the bin. She moved into her row (which ended up being across from me) and she seemed unsure of herself. (Almost like a dog that has to circle several times before laying down) Finally, she looked over at me and said, “I can’t thank you enough for getting that bag up for me. I just don’t expect people to do things like that. I’m in such a happy mood now I don’t know what to do with myself!” She finally settled in and we took off. I won’t lie, I put my headset on and watched some Direct TV on the seat back in front of me because A) they were showing reruns of Project Runway and B) I had had a not so great day myself and really didn’t want to deal with a chatty Cathy all the way to Vegas. After landing in Vegas I took her bag down for her and she told me that it was one of the nicest things anyone had done for her in a long time. Really? I thought. But then again, I can’t remember the last time someone held a door for me (or my hair when I was throwing up).

Now I haven’t been at my Starbucks in a few weeks due to travel and I won’t lie, someone at the office has been making great freshly ground coffee that’s been keeping me grounded. I was shocked last weekend when I went in to my Bucks and didn’t see anyone I knew behind the counter (or if I’m truthful, more to the point, no one knew me). I was almost hurt when I ordered my drink and the girl behind the counter (whom I’d never seen before) asked my name. Be that as it may, yesterday I went into get my coffee and thank the stars above (Judy Garland, Gene Kelly and now Deborah Kerr) there was a barista there who knew me and greeted me with a toothy grin and a cup that all ready had my name on it. As I was waiting for my drink to be made, a guy who I was used to seeing almost every morning came into get his coffee. This guy is the anti-me. He has a shaved head, goatee and looks as if he just got off his Harley. We had never spoken before, just a nod as we passed on our way to get a cardboard holder for our hot cups of coffee. But on this day he said, “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while how have you been?” Now for those of you who think that I think he was hitting on me, you’re all wrong. I’m not one of the gays who think everyone else in the world is gay and even with my rusty gaydar I can tell you this guy isn’t. He smiled, made eye contact and although I wouldn’t ever really think of burdening him with my real life aggravation and tsorris I said, “fine” and asked him how he was doing. And as I left the Starbucks I thought, “Wow, that was awfully nice of him.”

So in a world where we’re all hustling and bustling, I’d like to make my bid for us all to just be a little nicer to one another. We don’t have to go so far as to actually push it into the kindness category. But what if we held doors for one another or smiled and made eye contact or even, dare I say it…used turn signals? Try it, I think you’ll be as surprised as I was how good it feels to give and receive (boys again you’re just thinking filthy thoughts). Random acts of niceness – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Where Is Smokey Bear Now That We Need Him So? – Don’t Get Me Started!

"Only YOU can prevent a forest fire” that’s what I listened to Smokey Bear (I always thought it was Smokey THE Bear but with the Internet, found there was no “the”) that’s what I listened to Smokey say in commercials that would interrupt my Wacky Racers and Roadrunner cartoons. I never minded him interrupting as he was a cartoon too. So of course with the tragedy of the fires in California this week, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Smokey and wonder, “Where is Smokey Bear now that we need him so?” – Don’t Get Me Started!

My brother and his family live in San Diego and some of the people that I work with who live near LA were evacuated so I have to say that this hit home a little more than some other disasters of late. I’m relieved to say that everyone I know is safe and sound and lucky enough to not have any damage. And although you can’t believe everything you read (except what I write, of course) I was intrigued by a New York Times piece that shed some light on the fact that after the 2003 fires in California many asked for more resources for firefighters and as seems to happen with government, the bids for additional equipment and resources was declined reportedly due to the fact it would have meant increased taxes. And just how much is it going to cost the taxpayers now?

For anyone who reads my blogs, you’re all ready asking yourself why I’m writing about this whole situation. The answer is that when I started writing this blog it was to strike out about things that got on my nerves and frankly pissed me off and I’m really pissed about this whole situation. And unlike Faye Dunaway in Mommy Dearest who said, “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the dirt.” I have to say that I AM mad at local and state officials over this whole thing if it turns out that the reason for the spread of the fires was due to a lack of resources.

We all saw how much more organized things were in California than the Katrina disaster so they must have some resources and plans in place. But I also have to wonder if we won’t see faster clean up and building because we’re dealing with Malibu and San Diego here and not the poverty level and yes, I’ll say it…largely black population of New Orleans, many of who are still living in FEMA trailers being poisoned by the glue and fiber board they’re made of years after the disaster? I had a fight with a really good friend of mine today who was saying that the government shouldn’t even have FEMA or pay for any rebuilding when these things happen. Her point was that people move into areas that they know are prone to natural or other disasters and her feeling was much like the old Groucho Marx comment, “You pay your money, you take your chances” people who chose to live in these areas know what they’re getting themselves into more or less. I was frankly shocked by this as I’m a big person for feeling that we all need to be responsible and help one another. And when I asked what she wanted the country to do, leave certain areas unpopulated because they have high storm or other risks she accused me of distorting her point and simply reiterated that she was of the opinion that if you live in one of these areas you should pay to rebuild not the government, period.

And what of Jamie Lee Curtis’ comments which were reported as, "This is not an act of God!" The angry actress fumes, "We live in southern California, we build houses where we shouldn't build them, we're living in the worst drought this country's ever had and we pretend that we're not and we water our lawns; talk about ultimate denial.  "We've done this, we've created all of this... This isn't an act of God, this is an act of man." I guess to a certain extent she’s right.

I guess we just need to be thankful there was not a major loss of lives and that the media is at least covering this story ALMOST as much as they’re covering Britney going to parenting classes.
 

And still I wonder, with children today being less interested in cartoons and more interested in who will be the next American Idol if we’re not doing them a disservice. With all our political correctness, saving them from Halloween and the Pledge of Allegiance in the public school system because it mentions God (I know, you just read that from me, right?) if somewhere we haven’t lost something really important. Sure, my head is filled with images of anvils dropping on the Coyote that were supposedly too violent for me to watch but I think we were smarter then because although there was an occasional kid who would think he was Superman and jump out of his two story bedroom window with his blanket as a cape, no one ever tried to drop an anvil off a cliff on someone’s head (that I know of). And along with those images I have the image of Smokey Bear telling me I could prevent a forest fire, of the Indian with one tear rolling down his cheek as the stream was polluted at his feet and Dick Van Dyke telling me if I ever caught on fire to “stop, drop and roll.” I carry all those images with me today as I’m sure many of you do. So what exactly will our children and their children have? Cartoons that talk in double entendres and so much self importance that studies now say that kids have too much self-esteem and sense of entitlement? Give me Bugs Bunny in drag and Conjunction Junction any day. And isn’t it time we brought some of the messaging back from an era gone by about pollution and responsibility? Isn’t it time we ask, “Where is Smokey Bear now that we need him so?” – Don’t Get Me Started!

See and Read More at Smokey’s Official Site

http://www.smokeybear.com/

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For God’s Sake Let’s Let The Children Have Halloween, Shall We?! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Back in my day as a kid the only thing you had to worry about when it came to Halloween was figuring out what you were going to dress up like, being in by the time your parents told you that you needed to be in and for God sake, what ever you did, don’t eat apples (possible razors in them) or popcorn balls that were made from a house from someone you didn’t know. What started out as a simple fun little holiday has now become scarier than its original intent ever was supposed to be. They’re trying to kill this holiday and I for one (though not one of the million or zillion adults who love dressing up for Halloween) think it’s a shame for the kids. So for God sake, let’s let the children have Halloween, shall we?  ! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Last week when I was in LA I was listening to a morning radio show and they were talking about how several schools there had changed the day normally given to Halloween parties at the school to “Character Day.” I’m assuming this is due to the politically correctness squad who still think that those people who celebrate Halloween are really just using the holiday as an excuse to worship the devil in public. Wrong! People are using this as an excuse to dress up like a devil in public – two very different things. But I’m sure they found a doctor somewhere to say that dressing up like vampires and Bratz dolls will ruin a child’s psyche so once again, schools have jumped right in to solve the wrong problem. One woman called in to say that her child’s school doesn’t even allow any dressing up, they celebrate what they call “Crazy Hair Day” – which by the way, allows children to do crazy things to their hair but does not allow them to wear wigs to create their crazy hair looks. Something the caller lamented about as her daughter has short hair and really how crazy can you make that? My suggestion would be to just put a lot of eyeliner on her daughter and do the Liza Minnelli cause as much as we all love her, we know there’s some real crazy there, right?

But it goes beyond the schools. A pal of mine is throwing a party for her daughter’s school friends and she was stumped for party games. I suggested going back to the classics and as I got the words “bobbing for apples” out of my mouth there was almost a ghastly shriek on the other end of the phone. “Scott, I can’t do that. Do you know how many germs get passed around by kids? This is one of the least sanitary things you can do. I can’t do that at the party, it would be irresponsible.” I shut my mouth and just listened for the rest of the conversation. Come on, you can probably get more germs from touching anything anywhere these days so why stress over a few germs from some good old fashioned apple bobbing?

I just frankly can take precious little more. Halloween is a holiday that I think is something like number three in the money it makes for cobwebs, costumes and creepy accessories (Christmas being number one and Easter being number two) and for good reason. I don’t know about you but I go to work every day, I’m on my Blackberry, cell phone constantly and therefore, basically am working twenty-four seven as so many people are in this day and age. I could use a little break, a little fantasy in my life. Even if the only way that I can get it is by dressing up like a character that existed before all the electronic trappings of today were invented so I have an excuse to not have to have any of them on me that day.

Truth be told, I don’t dress up, don’t do anything really for Halloween and that’s really okay with me. (Though this year I was all excited about plans to go to my LA gay pals Halloween party in Palm Springs – didn’t work out due to scheduling but see the fabulous invite on my Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay page at the bottom of the page… http://www.somelikeitscott.com/somelikegay.html ) So it’s not for me that I beg the world at large to be a little less uptight about Halloween. It’s not for the adults who still dress up or the queens who dress up well…like queens. No, it’s for the children. Can’t we let our little monsters dress up like little monsters and have one day where they don’t have to worry about being the prettiest, having the most expensive shoes or being popular as the character they want to dress up like? I’m going to go out on a limb here and just say that I don’t think it will hurt any of them to walk around looking as if their head has a gash in it or looking like Minnie Mouse. So for God sake, let’s let the children have Halloween, shall we? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Donna Gays, Dumbledore Not Gay Enough? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Well, it was bound to happen; mere moments after J.K. Rowling “outed” main wizard, Dumbledore at her Carnegie Hall performance last Friday the gays were all over it. If you read my blog yesterday you’ll know that I was really more concerned about the fact that once again my Gaydar hadn’t gone off when reading ALL the Harry Potter books. But apparently some of my fellow gays just feel that Dumbledore should have mentioned in one of the seven books that he was indeed gay and because he didn’t they’re all fluffed up about it. Now pals of mine when someone gets all riled used to say, “Simmer Down” then it evolved to “Donna Simmer” until finally it just became, “Donna.” (yes, feel free to use it) So I say, “Donna gays, Dumbledore, not gay enough?” – Don’t Get Me Started!

An article I read this morning about this topic went on and on about how in seven books you would think that it would have come up either by Dumbledore’s own admission or being outed by some other character like, I don’t know, Perez Weasley? The author even suggested that the most dramatic way for the reveal would have been if on his deathbed Dumbledore had told the world while he was dying that he was gay. Well, on my deathbed, I intend to be talking about something other than the fact I’m gay. I’ll probably be talking about how Ann Miller is coming for me and teaching me how to do nerve taps, sensational kicks and turns. (Cross your fingers, let’s hope that’s who they send to “cross me over”)

Sure, who doesn’t like to see themselves or a part of themselves in the books they read? But as far as saying that the Potter gang went through pimples to marriage in the series and we could have used Dumbledore being a bit gayer to me is like saying we needed to have a chapter where Hermione went for a Pap smear. Excuse me, these are fantasy characters and I don’t want to hear about them taking a shit or really even having sex.

My take on it is that we should all be delighted that J.K. Rowling is evolved enough to have written a major character that we have found out is gay and MOVE ON. I don’t need to hear all the Monday morning quartergaying saying that the reason Dumbledore never mentioned he was gay is because he is filled with self-loathing. (According to Rowling, the only relationship he had was when he was young and the other wizard went over to the dark side.) Speaking of the dark side, the article I read talked about C3PO and R2D2 from Star Wars being an old couple of queens (although they stated that R2D2 was a butch lesbian so I don’t get how they could really be a couple but that is beside the point). The author of the article then goes on to ask how could Dumbledore be gay and not have had sex in something like 115 years? And wouldn’t that make Dumbledore seem like a priest or something and make you feel all oogly about his doting on Harry?

Well as far as this gay is concerned, I’m just fine as can be with Dumbledore being gay and having never talked about it. Does that make me less of a gay? I think not. And all the “outing” craze frankly bores me. Maybe had Snape been more like Isaiah Washington, we would have found out about Dumbledore. Or maybe if he’d been in a boy band we would have had a splashy outing or maybe, just maybe, Dumbledore was like a lot of us, fine with his sexuality but didn’t need a rainbow colored wand to prove it. And again I say, “Donna gays, Dumbledore, not gay enough?” – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Dumbledore Is Gay? I Need To Get My Gaydar And My Magic Wand Fixed! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I love the Harry Potter books. I’ve read them all and if J.K. Rowling ever wrote another one, I’d be the first to sign up on Amazon.com to have it delivered to my door on the day of its release. But even reading all the books, nothing prepared me for the news that came out of Rowling’s own mouth this past week. The whole proclamation that Dumbledore was gay threw me for a loop. Dumbledore is gay? I need to get my gaydar and my magic wand fixed! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Am I just naïve? I don’t know. I just never really thought about any of the characters from the Harry Potter books having sex. And guess what? That’s strictly okay with me. It’s sort of like imagining your friends or relatives having sex, you know that they have sex but for God sake, you don’t want to think about it. (Well, at least I don’t) There was something so wonderfully magical and pure to NOT have to think about Hermione and Ron “getting it on” or Hagrid jerking off in his hut that right now even writing that makes me shudder.

The thing is that I’d like to be mad at Rowling for “spoiling” my innocent pleasure of reading her fantasy novels but what I’m more pissed off about is the fact that once again my gaydar appears to be on the fritz. After all, I guessed that the Sorcerer’s Stone was in Harry’s pocket in the pivotal scene from the first book. My suspicions were right about so many of the plot twists throughout reading the books but Dumbledore being gay? What’s wrong with me, why didn’t I see it? Sure he wore a diamond in his beard but I just took that as being where wizards wore their diamonds. Yeah, he was always redecorating the sky in the great hall but I thought of that as more than just showing off for the kids. And the whole long fingernail thing I wrote off as an absent-minded professor who was so genius that he didn’t have time to think about personal grooming. Okay, after reading all of that, I admit it, I should have known. But frankly, if I had to pick a character that was gay in the Potter books, I’d have to lean toward Snape (as it sort of explains his whole nasty demeanor – you know, can’t admit he’s gay so it makes him a miserable person…Senator Larry Craig are you listening?). If I forced myself, I could see Snape and Lucius Malfoy at a leather bar but Dumbledore?

And what about all that “loving of Harry” that Dumbledore did? All the protecting Harry and them spending special time in Dumbledore’s “private office?” You know the office where you said a magic word to make the stairs rise…wait, I mean rise like a phoenix, he had a phoenix bird, remember? Abracadabra, no, I can’t think about Dumbledore being attracted to Harry because if I do I’m really going to be ill. Too late, already I can see the title of the porno – Hairy Potter and Dumbledore’s Secret Chamber. Eeek! I mean, even with the adorable Daniel Radcliffe playing Harry, I never thought about having sex with him or him having sex with any of his fellow Hogwarts classmates. (I guess this means you can definitely never accuse me of being part of the whole man/boy love culture. Just one more thing that separates me from Michael Jackson)

If Hermione were only here, she’d know an incantation to clear my mind of all that has been thought. But alas, there is no Hermione (here or anywhere else) and that means that there’s no Dumbledore either so on some level I’m safe. Besides, there was nothing ever really all that sexual about Dumbledore that could have really tipped me off. So if he is gay (and the author says that he is) then he is like the Will Truman character on Will and Grace, you know, almost asexual. Even when he had boyfriends I never really thought about him having sex. True that’s another fictional character but then there’s always Lance Bass, I can’t (and won’t) imagine him having sex either. But that’s a blog for another day.

I know I should be glad that Dumbledore is gay, right? A major character in a major book series is “outed” so that should make me feel validated, right? Not so much. It just makes me want to re-read every book and see if there were some clues I missed. And maybe just maybe that’s what the clever Ms. Rowling was really intending all along, a way to get us to all break out the books and keep Harry Potter on our lips a little longer. (Boys, honestly, minds out of the gutter) Dumbledore is gay? I need to get my gaydar and my magic wand fixed! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Men, Less Is More When It Comes To Style – Don’t Get Me Started!

Men are no different than women when it comes to what they wear. They fancy themselves Johnny Depp and wear a porkpie hat with a goatee or they see the Abercrombie and Fitch boys and starve themselves until they can wear a t-shirt with some faded pattern of something on it that makes their upper bodies look concave. We’re all victims of the marketing dollars that are spent to make us think we have to look like this or that from the images we see in the media and movies, just the same as women (though some men are loathed to admit it). But there are several men out there that take in all those images and just get it wrong. And I seem to see all of them. Men, less is more when it comes to style – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’m sitting at the airport and I look up to see a guy taking a seat a couple seats away from me. Immediately I was caught by the curled up straw cowboy hat with the feather in the hatband that I realized at once was supposed to look as though it had been worn for years by a cowpoke riding the range but was really from some store like International Male – (gay iconic clothes for boys who want to be noticed and seem almost butch but aren’t – read that blog here… http://hubpages.com/hub/The_International_Gay_I_Mean_International_Male_Catalog ) He had on jeans and there they were, boots. But not really cowboy boots, more like the boots you’d see at Wild Pair in 1987. They were smooth black leather but the leather was scrunched at the top of the boot that was mid-calf to give it that, I don’t know, “I’m a woman and if I were a woman I’d be wearing leggings shoved into these boots so that you could see the top was scrunched up leather). To complete the look, he had a black biker looking jacket and holey jeans. If you haven’t guessed by now, yes I was saying to myself, “Oh my God, the Village People just threw up on this guy.” Less is more especially when you end up looking like the “borrowed” part of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. The guy looked okay, I guess but what struck me was that none of it really seem authentic or his true self. (Especially when I heard him on his cell phone and he sounded like he was trying to sound like a surfer dude on top of everything else.) The poor thing was confused and I know there are a lot more out there where that came from.

As I looked across the aisle at the airport there was a man sitting with his girlfriend or wife. He had to be in his early fifties and he was well groomed with his khakis and button down oxford shirt on. His hair was something you’d see from the “Dad” posing in underwear page of a JC Penney catalog. And then I looked down at his hands. At first I did a double take because the rest of his “look” didn’t go with what I saw. He was one of those guys with rings on every finger. And I’m talking the chunky skull heads on one finger a big thick band of silver on his index finger and some Celtic looking thing on his thumb.

To the untrained eye, these men seem as if they are expressing themselves through their personal fashion but I can tell you that both are victims of fashion that someone else did right (in most cases six years ago or more) that they misinterpreted and held onto long after the parade passed them by.

Here comes the advice portion. It’s okay to buy the entire outfit you see on a mannequin in a store provided that store is one that is age appropriate and when you get it in your size and on you it looks good. But let’s start at the beginning with you as the blank canvas and artist all at once with a simple exercise. Every guy can get away with wearing jeans and a white t-shirt. (True, some may look like a Calvin Klein ad while other may look like Schneider from One Day At  A Time) but on the whole, the look works for everyone. No need to worry about too much there – if it’s a cooler day, add a short lightweight jacket and boom, suddenly you’re James Dean. Or add a navy or camelhair sports jacket and you’re ready to take on casual corporate America. The jeans and t-shirt look is one that you might see from someone at Starbucks or at a club depending upon the color of the denim and the quality of the t-shirt. And while you certainly can’t wear this everyday, it’s a good way to get your feet wet in discovering your personal fashion sense. From here, start adding a different colored t-shirt or a long sleeved something or other. Shoes make the man – dress shoes with the jeans (night out), tennis shoes (casual). The thing that always kills it for us guys are the accessories, we add too many. It’s suddenly a knit cap with lots of silver jewelry and dangling earrings. The famous words of CoCo Channel still ring true, when it comes to accessories, before you leave your home take one thing off. (Yes, this may include a cowboy hat or a skull shaped ring). I know its difficult out there (especially when we see the boys in the catalogs and think we can look just like them when we can’t because we haven’t been airbrushed within an inch of our lives and are living on wheat grass and gym visits) And that’s what advertisers depend on. I say, keep it simple guys and remember… men, less is more when it comes to style – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Why I Love jetBlue And You Should Too – Don’t Get Me Started!

 To the outsider it would seem that I’m a jetsetter but as anyone who travels for business knows, it’s really just business. Well, this week I went from Las Vegas to Long Beach and so I got to fly jetBlue. I’ve flown them before but let me tell you why I love jetBlue and you should too – Don’t Get Me Started!

First of all, their site is adorable and the airline is too. They’re like the classy version of Southwest. The website is a little more hip and it’s just killing me that they don’t fly as many places as Southwest and other airlines fly because if they did, they would be the only airline that I would fly.

When you arrive at the gate instead of khaki or navy polyester uniformed flight attendants, they’re in all black. From moment one you feel as though you’ve walked into a shi shi salon or a really good restaurant. Everyone is friendly but not in that forced, “Look at us do our rehearsed spiel, we’re funny” Southwest way. They’re like, “Hey, good to see you. Thanks for flying with us.”

You get on the plane and there it is right in the seat back in front of you. Every seat has its own Direct TV mini-monitor and it has something like thirty channels. While they lose three points for having ESPN and ESPN2 as the first couple of channels you have to surf through, they get a good twenty-five gay points for having Bravo! (Could there be any gayer network?) The amazing part is that you don’t even care about turning off your Ipod because you can watch your own personal Direct TV during the takeoff all the way through the landing and taxiing to the gate. Come on, what is not to love about that, huh?

As if all of this wasn’t enough, as we took off for our flight attendants informed us that we were going to be served Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. Hello, have you ever had Dunkin’ Donuts coffee? Before Starbucks (and even after it) I loves me some Dunkin’ Donuts coffee.

They market Dunkin’ Donuts and other brand products during your experience and you don’t even care because they’re all so hip and adorable looking that it doesn’t feel like a new way for product placement but a way to give you the products you love. How they manage all of this I’m sure I don’t know but once again, maybe it has a lot to do with the Bravo and HGTV you can watch as the well-coiffed boys bring you your Dunkin’ Donuts coffee. Whatever it is, it works.

As you know from reading my blogs, I’m usually all fired up about some sort of injustice that has happened to me or something in the world around us that makes me nuts but sometimes you just have to show as much passion for something you love. No, jetBlue isn’t paying me or even giving me free tickets (not that I’d turn them down) but I have to tell you whether they’re a gay airline or not, they certainly have a gay sensibility and doesn’t everyone win when a company gets its Gay Housekeeping Seal of Approval? I don’t know what their HRC rating is or anything else (and somehow I don’t even care) all I know is that if you haven’t flown jetBlue and they fly wherever your next travel destination may be, do yourself a favor…go jetBlue and discover why I love jetBlue and you should too – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Guess What Senator Craig? We Gay Really Don’t Want You – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve never understood why every straight man seems to think that every gay man wants them. This is simply not true. There are so many straight men that hold no attraction to any of us gays that it just seems like another desperate attempt by white straight men to keep their leg up on women and all minorities. That’s right men, not all of you are so attractive that we can’t help ourselves. In fact in a lot of cases, you should be thankful for women (especially the ones with low self-esteem) because us gays have some higher standards that you simply aren’t able to meet. On the other side of that, I do know that a lot of gay men, confused and concerned about their own manliness are only attracted to straight men in a desperate attempt to not be associated with the limp-wristed gay stereotype. But whether you’re into straight men or gay men I think it’s time we stopped hearing Senator Craig tell us that he isn’t gay and doesn’t approve of our lifestyle. Instead, what we should be saying is, “Guess what Senator Craig? We gays really don’t want you” – Don’t Get Me Started!

How could the gayest host on television (next to Ryan Seacrest of course) Matt Lauer interview Craig and his wife? Oh right, ratings. I almost forgot. I didn’t see the whole interview and I’m glad of it because what I did see made me sick to my stomach. First of all, Craig had on more makeup than his wife and can we discuss the blush? He looked like Lucille Ball when she was too old to play Mame but did it anyway and then they had to cover the camera lens in gauze to supposedly make her look younger (when in fact, it just made her look fuzzy). And as he sat with his wife on the couch looking like Mr. and Mrs. Middle America, his answers were so rehearsed that you would think you were seeing some badly acted living room drama that had no drama or interest whatsoever.

I’d like to say I feel bad for the wife but she seems as delusional as he must be to have had so many people reveal his “gay tendencies” and still deny it. Who am I to judge them? Well, when you put yourself out there like a celebrity without underwear on you deserve what you get. Honestly, what does he think? Why was he so surprised his fellow white “statesmen” just distanced themselves from him without calling or sending a Hallmark card showing their support of his admission of his guilt and then his about face? Because (as they say in Nine To Five) he’s a “sexist, egotistical, lying hypocritical bigot” and your fellow congressmen are the same. When they see one of their own exposed they quickly back away from them as fast as possible for fear they’ll be exposed too (sort of like well, chicken pox – they’re chickens and a pox upon their heads, I say!)  

What Senator Craig needs to know is that as much as he apparently loathes himself (and perhaps can’t admit his attraction to other men), we loathe him a little bit more. Maybe loathe is too strong a word but then again, when he solicited sex in that bathroom, admitted guilt, tried to take it back and then sat on that couch (with the pattern that would hurt any discerning gay’s eyes) cleverly choosing his words to deny being gay or bi-sexual then almost boasting that his “voting record” on gay issues should show you where he stands on that lifestyle choice perhaps it’s more contempt I feel for him.

I’ve had friends who questioned their sexuality and fought it before coming out so I understand about how vehement the denial can be before they come to terms with their true sexuality. But I’m sorry in Craig’s case it’s hard to have any sympathy for him as he supposedly faces “the most difficult challenge of his political career.” How convenient to be able to distance yourself from the fact you were trying to give a blow job to some anonymous stranger in a toilet and try to turn it back to being about politics.

Craig has made his decision, he’s staying in office and most likely when his term is up we won’t have to hear from him again until he writes his book, “A Tour of The Sexiest Restrooms In The US” and goes on Larry King to try and sell it to anyone who might care. As for me, I’m content with letting Craig slip into obscurity, never talking about him again. But for the record, I want Craig to know for all of us, “Guess what Senator Craig? We gays really don’t want you” – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Let’s Face It, Rappers Are Just Diamond Encrusted Thugs – Don’t Get Me Started!

It used to be that inner city youths aspired to be sports figures to get out of poverty and get pussy. Now you don’t have to throw the ball the furthest, make great rebounds or even really practice, it seems all you have to do is work out, rhyme words to music and have a record (criminal that is) to get a record deal. Let’s face it, rappers are just diamond encrusted thugs – Don’t Get Me Started!

Don’t even start with me that rap music is an art form to be compared with jazz. Guess, what? Black people starting both types of music is where the similarity ends as far as I’m concerned. Anyone who has listened to Ella Fitzgerald could not possibly compare that artistry to the dreck (Yiddish for “shit”) that passes for music known as rap. And please don’t tell me that I’m too old to understand or appreciate the music. You see there is no music to appreciate. Oh wait, let me rephrase that, they take a song we all loved from the 70’s or 80’s steal the melody of it so we think we’re going to be listening to a classic and then they talk all over it with such clever lyrics as, “Fuck up your brother, suck your mother them whores don’t know shit.” Oh yeah, that’s just as artful as say, “Somewhere there’s music, how faint the tune. Somewhere there’s heaven, how high the moon.”

So the news of late is that rapper TI (no, I’m not talking about the recently re-branded Treasure Island hotel here in Las Vegas). TI, whose real name is Clifford Harris was arrested on Saturday in an Atlanta shopping mall parking lot for possession of unregistered machine guns and silencers and possession of firearms by guess what? A convicted felon.  Lest the old adage be tarnished, the hip hop awards show did in fact go on…even without TI. (Who still managed to walk away with two awards from his nine nominations.) Rapper “Common” was quoted as saying, “I salute my guy TI, who also won, wherever he is” during his acceptance speech. Does anyone else in the world find this disgusting? I really don’t care that “Common” and “TI” won CD of the year and what’s more “saluting” the felon that was just arrested continues to send a dangerous message to all of America that in order to make it you have to break it (the law that is).

I’m going to go further on the limb to which I’ve all ready climbed. I don’t think that Tu Pac was an artist that needs to be revered after his life was taken by another thug. I didn’t really think all that much of his music when he was alive. And just because you die, it doesn’t make you talented, it just makes you…well, dead. I’m not saying that his life wasn’t worthwhile or that the loss of it wasn’t devastating. I’m angry any time I see life taken for what I call, “N.A.R.” (No Apparent Reason) and I’m sorry for all the families that have lost their famous rapper children to violence that is not only encouraged but applauded in that industry. But at least his family can turn out a posthumous album and make millions. What about all the kids that die aspiring to be their rapper role models? Does Diddy want to talk about that or is he too busy dressing in Armani and his own clothes line to be bothered?

Am I angry, you bet but the bigger question is why isn’t anyone else angry? I’m not talking about censorship, labeling their albums offensive like we didn’t have free speech in this country. Who cares how the albums are labeled, ask yourself if it isn’t more important what they’re promoting and setting as the example? And just because MTV or the like have started bleeping out words like “ho” in my opinion doesn’t make them any less responsible for the deaths that are on all these rappers hands, the record labels that make a fortune from them and the networks that air this crap.  

And isn’t that what it all comes down to anyway? The money that is made? No one really cares that they’re making art, they just want to make enough money to “pimp out their ride” buy a diamond encrusted crucifix longer than their penis and hopefully end up with a reality show where cheap women with low self esteem and necklines throw themselves at them because they’ve acquired so much money.

Here’s the deal. Throw TI and the rest of his merry band into jail and be done with it. Let them work out and make their music from a penitentiary and then let’s give the money that they make for their “art” to get some health care for the masses and help the homeless. Both groups are much more deserving of the money than the rappers. And while we’re at it, let’s throw a little money to education in this country so that the children being left behind in the current education system will be educated and see the life possibilities in front of them for working hard and not just throwing a ball or talking to music. Not everyone is going to be an American Idol or the next rapper with a fur coat and diamonds on every finger and it’s not wrong for our kids to want to be these things as long as they understand what goes with it. Taylor Hicks is now opening local farm equipment retail locations in his home town and TI is being arrested in parking lots.

Let’s face it; being famous isn’t what it used to be. Anyone can be famous, if you have sex and (you’ll pardon the expression) leak the tape on the Internet, have a good or bad audition on American Idol or appear on Girls Gone Wild you can be famous. The possibilities in today’s world for becoming famous are endless and I get that’s the way things are but to become famous for committing and advocating violent behavior used to make you infamous and call me whatever you like that I think that’s the way it should still be. I don’t and won’t listen to rap and I sure as hell won’t watch award shows celebrating rappers. Let’s face it, rappers are just diamond encrusted thugs – Don’t Get Me Started!

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What Happens When The Butt Pads Come Out? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I have to say that I’ve always had a great ass. Maybe it’s the years I spent dancing and teaching dance but whatever the reason, being a gay man, I’ve always found a good ass a real asset. I wasn’t shocked while thumbing through the back of a recent Advocate magazine to see that they’re selling underwear with butt pads in them. I’ve actually known about them for a long time but I suddenly started to wonder, what happens when the butt pads come out? – Don’t Get Me Started!

A lot of women reading this are immediately thinking about their “cutlets” that they have in their top right hand drawer as we speak. (For those three of you who don’t know, these are the new toilet paper for what we used to call “stuffing” your bra except they look like chicken cutlets thus the name and supposedly have the feel of a real breast.) The similarity between cutlets and pads is that women use their cutlets to get men and men who are using their butt pads are also trying to get men.

I had a boss years ago who struggled from not having an ass. And so I gave him the International Male catalog (Read that blog here… Remember the International Gay...I Mean, International Male Catalog?) which to no one’s surprise carried the little gay man’s helpers. Much like the story of Goldilocks I think the underwear came with three different sized sets of pads, too big, too small and just right (however, the one that was “just right” is in the eye of the beholder, I suppose) He bought a few pair and I have to say, while you’d never end up setting tea on his ass, there was definitely more “junk in his trunk.”

But the question for me remains, what exactly do you do once you’ve lured your prey with the hopes of a fabulous bubble butt and it ends up being something left over from the International House of Pancakes? I get that you could discreetly slip off the underwear with the pads in it but once you’ve exposed yourself won’t your secret be as well? Is the idea that you’re hoping your newfound partner won’t notice? Hardly, as I wrote about previously, the G-A-A-A-Y triple threat which is Arms, Abs and Ass. Those three things are the most important for most gay men on the prowl. Trust me if someone is interested in your due to what your ass looks like in your favorite pair of jeans, you’d better be able to deliver.

Maybe you graduate your new found pal to the real you. First date, you wear the biggest pads, second date move down to the next set and keep going until you get to the “real” you. The problem with this theory is that I think most men are using these to find the boy of their schemes at the local bar. So you’d have to either carry a man purse with your other ass options or just hope that they get drunk enough that when you get them home (or in the alley) they’ll still think you have the ass of Zeus when you really have the ass of, well, you.

But as I write all of this I think it’s more to do with self-esteem than asses. I’ll bet the guys that have no ass feel great when they have their pads in. And good for them because shouldn’t we all feel good about ourselves? And isn’t it better to get that boost from cutlets or pads instead of surgery? It’s just that I squeeze fruit before I buy it and the same goes for asses (back when I was in the market). So I say, use the pads if they make you feel better about yourself and know that not everyone is going to figure out your secret but eventually when the lights go out in Georgia (that’s the night they hung an innocent man incidentally) you will be found out. So do it for you and know that some of us really do wonder what happens when the butt pads come out? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Sometimes Designers Should Not Be Seen And Only Heard Through Their Creations, Are You Listening, Marc Jacobs? – Don’t Get Me Started!

In a piece from Queerty.com today, there is a picture and a story about Marc Jacobs and his obviously much younger boy pal (who they’re denying they met through a site called rentboy.com) Jason Preston professing his love for Marc complete with a tattoo of his name on his forearm. The good news for Preston (and there’s a lot of it) is that tattoo removal is commonplace now and he can probably even get Jacobs to pay for that too when needed. But as you look at the picture of Mr. Jacobs and Master Preston, it just made me think that sometimes designers should not be seen and only heard through their creations, are you listening, Marc Jacobs? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Now let me make this very clear, I don’t care that Jacobs’ boy seems a good twenty years younger than him or that I doubt he knows what salad fork to use at a dinner with Donna Karan in the Hamptons. As long as Jacobs is getting something out of it (or in it, as they say), he’s got the money to have and do who…ooops, I mean what he wants. And good for Jacobs that he’s found a mate and good for Preston that he’s found a way to get what he wants at the hands of one of the most popular designers in the world. For both of them, I hope it is true love but if it’s not, to be honest, I really don’t care.

The thing is that both of them look as if they haven’t showered in months. I thought we got rid of Ethan Hawke when Uma did? The more unkempt and just downright dirty Marc Jacobs looks, the less attractive his merchandise becomes to me. Now I’m sure that you could make the argument that if that were true in all professions, you could argue that no one should have ever listened to Einstein based on personal appearance but to me it’s very different because we’re talking someone whose professional is all about telling people what to wear and how to look and he’s just…well, yuck.

I’m not sure if it’s the greasy hair or the large glasses that make him look like some serial killer from the seventies but he needs a shower and some help. Add to it his boytoy who looks as though he hasn’t washed in months either and you can practically smell them through the computer! (Think John Waters smellovision, no scratch cards needed here) Honestly in the photo they look like some creepy guy who found a boy in an adult theater in New York having just had their way with each other and leaving some of their DNA on seat 12 in row AA.  

Call me crazy but I like my designers to look good. Michael Kors always looks like he just got off a yacht. Betsey Johnson, while crazy looking, always looks clean. What in God’s name is Jacobs trying to prove you have to wonder?

The deal is that if these designers want us to spend our money on their fashion to make us look the way they feel we need to look, shouldn’t they lead by example? Designers, while you’re busy dressing us how about dressing yourself? How about bathing and coiffing yourself too? Sometimes designers should not be seen and only heard through their creations, are you listening, Marc Jacobs? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Let’s Face It, Airport Restrooms Will Never Be The Same, Thank You Senator Craig – Don’t Get Me Started!

After getting through security and making my way past the parents with screaming children, adults with manners that would make Miss Manners puke as they screamed into their cell phone (full up of their own importance) and the general hustle and bustle that accompanies airports, I arrived in my gate area and entered a restroom (out of need, not a vanity check or God only knows what else your mind is dreaming up). As I entered the stall (and tried to keep everything from touching the ground, the walls of the stalls or anything else with expertise that could have gotten me a role in a Cirque du Soleil show) all I could think was, “Let’s face it, airport restrooms will never be the same, thank you Senator Craig” – Don’t Get Me Started!

The thing is that he’s ruined it for all of us. The gays, the straights, the straights who act like gays in restrooms and everyone else. As shocking as this may be to my ardent readers, I’ve never had sex in a restroom. What’s more, the whole idea of it doesn’t get me “hot” in the least. So the whole idea of anyone, let alone a senator or George Michael, trolling public restrooms is an idea I get (I guess) but don’t get all at the same time.

The thing is that it’s almost a paranoia that sinks in now as you enter the airport restroom. You see men looking this way and that then quickly entering like it’s an adult bookstore or something. Once in the stall you can’t help but think to yourself about the foot tapping, hand gesture and all the rest of the “signals” that Craig allegedly did in that now infamous restroom (that by the way has supposedly become quite the attraction – people are apparently visiting it like the Grand Canyon – why yes, I know exactly what I just wrote and you read). Now I used to teach tap dancing…and I just couldn’t help but wonder, what if I tapped my foot, what would happen? It’s a little like someone telling you not to push the big red button. The thought of doing it is almost maddening. Not because I wanted sex but because you just have to wonder who these people are that become Gregory Hines on a toilet in a public restroom, don’tcha? But fear not, I was able to get through the restroom experience with my dignity in tact. (After all, I’m a nice Jewish boy, what did you think was going to happen, huh?)

With the news that Senator Craig is holding onto his position as senator almost as tightly as I’m figuring he’s grabbed the top of a stall wall in ecstasy more than once, you just have to wonder what in God’s name he’s thinking trying to stay in office. Never mind the people who are letting him stay in office. Meanwhile, the masseuse/male prostitute to the supposed-straight Republicans Mike Jones is apparently making claims that he’s “been of service” to the senator too. Now I’m not one of the gays who felt badly for Mike Jones one bit during the Ted Haggard scandal or after and anyone who doesn’t think this new allegation from him isn’t perfectly timed to coincide with his blow all book about the people he’s blown to help sales, your crazy. I don’t not like Mike Jones I feel that he provides a service and gets paid for it and good for him. I think Americans are all way too uptight when it comes to sex anyway. No wonder everyone’s sneaking around in restrooms. We like feeling naughty and with all the hype that sex is bad, once again we’d go mad if we didn’t touch the red button. But I don’t think Mike Jones is a martyr nor should he be pitied because he’s been so exposed in the media. Like everyone else that finds themselves in the spotlight for some unseemly incident (or two, or seven) he’s getting paid and receiving the attention he obviously needs. And yes…good for him.

The thing is that I’m not saying this is all that anyone has on their mind when they enter an airport restroom but I can almost guarantee you that the next time you find yourself in an airport having to use “the facilities” you’re going to think about it. What’s more you’ll probably tap your foot at least one (and some of us not even for sex but to see what the whole deal is all about). So tap away like MGM movie musical star, Ann Miller.  But let’s face it, airport restrooms will never be the same, thank you Senator Craig – Don’t Get Me Started!

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How To Live Your Own Movie Musical Via Your Ipod – Don’t Get Me Started!

Since I live in Vegas, there’s really no place to walk like there is in big cities but having been in Seattle, I was able to reawaken the feelings I had when I used to walk around New York (or “the city” as it’s called). Well, as with so many people you encounter these days, they all have the signature white ear buds in as they walk the streets in Seattle, their Ipods. At first I didn’t understand this as I was walking the quarter mile in from the hotel. I was on the phone or my blackberry all ready starting to work but here were all these people walking to wherever they were going with their Ipods in and as they walked they bopped their heads. So I decided to try it. Well, let me just tell you how to live your own movie musical via your Ipod – Don’t Get Me Started!

Originally I felt wearing your Ipod was sort of a rude kind of isolationist technique (and I’m sure for some people it’s exactly just that) but as I walked the streets of Seattle with my songs blaring so only I could hear, the entire city and it’s inhabitants became my supporting cast in my own musical in my head.

Now let me say that I was the kid who used to stare at the clock in school and when I wasn’t busy trying to make it go forward by twitching my nose like Samantha on Bewitched (although I think I was always more of an Uncle Arthur) I was always imagining some great song and dance number going on in my classroom instead of the work we were supposed to be doing on integers or something equally as boring to me. I would wonder why life wasn’t more like the Mickey and Judy musicals I watched over and over again. Surely if I started singing the full orchestra would swell and come in with me, right? Well looking back I realize I was too scared to start singing to see if the music would come so I sat there daydreaming about it instead. That’s not the case anymore.

Maybe not a storyline per se but as here’s what I was listening to and feeling…

• As I left the hotel and swung open the doors you could hear the sounds of “Baby Get Lost” from The Dana Owens album. “Good morning baby, welcome back to town…” As I strutted past people, I felt like no one could tell me anything. Full of myself and completely confident I walked with an occasional ball-change in my step.
• I started getting closer to the heart of the city and as Dr. Buzzard’s Original Savannah Band blared “Cherchez La Femme/Se Si Bon” I was suddenly John Travolta walking the streets from Saturday Night Fever. And as I passed the homeless person sleeping in the unopened bagel shop, the song lyrics filled my soul, “Tommy Mattola lives on the road…”
• And as I hit the city proper it was “Buenos Aires” (from the original Broadway show with Patti Lupone, not the movie version with Madonna) “All I want is a whole lot of excess, tell the singer this is where I’m playing…”
• Finally, as I rounded the corner to where I was working, the original Broadway musical Over Here was playing, “We Got It” to give me that final boost of self-confidence I needed. “You got it, you got it, we really dig that you’re gonna be big…” I could almost see one couple jitterbugging as I shorty-georged my way into my office.

I’m sure not everyone who has their Ipod on is thinking that the world is suddenly moving like Fred and Ginger but if you program your music properly and keep your eyes open, whether by coincidence or divine intervention from the musical gods, you’ll notice that people almost seem choreographed to the music emanating from your Ipod. As the person slams their car door it’s amazingly enough on an accent in the music. Someone hurrying to cross the street is shuffling their feet in perfect rhythm of the drum solo you’re listening to and before you know it, you’re taking your curtain call. And that’s how to live your own movie musical via your Ipod – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Have You Ever Been To A Trend Show? – Don’t Get Me Started!

For those of us outside the world of what I guess is supposed to be true fashion, glamour and more they have these “shows” that they call “Trend Shows” (well, at least Nordstrom does but I’m sure they have them other places too). Well as I’ve been writing, I’m in Seattle and I found out that a pal of mine was going to be one of the stars of the show here (more on that later). So on my day off, I decided to go and surprise her at this Nordstrom Trend Show. Oy gut. Have you ever been to a trend show? – Don’t Get Me Started!

The trend show I attended was for makeup and other cosmetics. These trend shows are supposed to show the invited few exactly what trends are hip and happening or more importantly are about to be happening. (They have the regular trend experience for the shoppers downstairs which amounts to a gazillion barstools and lots of people running around in the makeup area of the store dressed in black with black aprons, a lot of makeup and preening as they shove people into chairs and try to make them look as little like themselves as possible so that they can sell a gazillion dollars in product). As I entered the store I was overwhelmed by the crowds of people in the makeup department. I would have seriously thought that they were giving something away from the crowds, the shoving and the pushing.

I finally found a sales clerk that would make eye contact with me. Most are so busy they have no time to actually help you applying more makeup and accosting the people as they go by to try to get them in their chair so that they can give them cheekbones or something, I don’t know. She was a bit overweight (tip of the day: if you need immediate assistance in a makeup department, go for the chubby girl. She will always help you and is usually the best one in the department. While her co-workers preen and act as if they are the customer, the chubby girl is always glad to help you because she usually feels a little out of step with the rest of her department like you do). I told her who I was looking for and that’s when she told me that my friend Debbie was upstairs at the trend show not down amongst this bunch. Of course she was sweet and said that I could probably just sneak in so up the elevator to the fifth floor.

A quick bio on my friend, Deborah Lippmann. She and I have been friends for what seems like forever and her mother and my mother are friends, hello you get the picture. Well, Debbie or Deborah (as they call her in magazines, when she is on on television shows and QVC) is the first manicurist to the stars. What Janice Dickinson supposedly did for modeling (becoming the first super model – or so she says) Debbie is to nails. While she is a brilliant singer, actress and dancer she has made her name in the field of nail care. She has done absolutely everyone’s nails, done major magazine covers and one year I think was at the Oscars backstage to touch up one of her uberceleb client’s nails between appearances. Her products are all cleverly named for songs and she even sometimes collaborates with fave celeb clients to make new colors. (Deb and Pat Benatar came up with “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” while she and Sarah Jessica Parker came up with Sarah Smiles) Go to her site immediately and buy everything there because not only is she the manicurist to the stars, her products are fabulous. Go ahead…I’ll wait… http://lippmanncollection.com/07/LC007_index.html

Back to our story. So I go upstairs and I explain who I am to the cute girls at the check-in. Once they realized I wasn’t crashing this event to get one of the faux Channel quilted makeup cases that they were giving out, they seemed fine with me going in. As I entered the main room, it was all ready in progress. There was a man on stage with so much makeup on himself that I had to wonder if he had intended to look so made up or felt that he needed it under the four stage lights they had up in the room that sat a little over a couple hundred people. He was mincing through the crowd doing some sort of raffle thing, giving God only knows what out as he hugged the women and undoubtedly got makeup all over their shoulders. I found a woman with a clipboard and asked her if she could get a message back to my friend (as she had no idea I was in Seattle much less coming to this event). She gave me the look up and down but told me to have a seat and she went to the backstage area.

The makeup man was leaving and now it was our host for the afternoon that came out. She was a thin woman with too much makeup on, dressed in black and a nasal voice that would possibly allow her to do dubbing for Fran Drescher. She told everyone that the next presentation was going to be a video presentation to show us the different matte looks that were going to be in this season and then like a Catholic school teacher, she insisted everyone get out their booklets they’d been given and follow along. The video when on for about five minutes and our host was watching from the side that everyone had their books out. I don’t know what the hell they were talking about, all I know is that it was some line of makeup and you were supposed to keep tapping your brush and using “very little” yet you had to use at least twenty little makeup pods of “very little” to look as though you had “very little” on. As the video ended and the lights came up and our host stepped back into center (I’m going to say she was probably a Patti…you know, the kind that insist on the “i” at the end not the kind that has the word Peppermint after her name and wears sandals). Patti scanned the crowd and asked, “Did everyone see the difference between the matte finishes that were shown? Did you? Did you?” Finally the crowd responded with a collective, “yes” that sounded more like a Gregorian chant than an answer. Though I’m sure everyone was afraid that Patti was going to “cut them” if they didn’t answer.

At this point I looked around the room. I don’t know how half of these women got invited as they looked like the biggest bunch of shlepps I’ve ever seen in my life. Few had makeup on (I guess because after the show they were headed down to the barstools for a makeover) and none were really dressed with any kind of real trend. But whatever, at this point the woman with the clipboard informs me that she did what she could do to get a message to Debbie. Patti is nasally describing something and then shoving her nails toward her mouth to show that her red nails match her lipstick and we’re off to the races, she introduces Debbie. (I sigh and think, “Thank God”)

Debbie comes on and immediately asks where I am in the audience and then goes into her allotted two minute presentation. She has the crowd from minute one. They are oohing and ahhing like she is fireworks at the Fourth of July. When she tells them that there aren’t too many of one particular item left, they all “Ahhh” with appropriate disappointment and they mean it. If I didn’t know better I would think that this audience had been booked like one for an infomercial. They’re dying her to stay on and give them more but like a true professional (and from what I could see, Patti motioning in the wings that her time was up) Debbie left the stage in a flurry of applause and you could tell regardless of what went before or after Debbie was the show.

I went backstage and met her. We laughed and hugged and caught up in the six minutes we had before she had her facial appointment at the Nordstrom spa. The other “Trend People” were sitting on deck and as most people in fashion seemed to be, couldn’t quite get my energy or one liners as they were what I think, too thin to get anything because they’re thinking about all the food they’ll never eat again.

All this to say, it was great seeing Debbie and she did a wonderful job but I really don’t know what I was supposed to get out of all of this except the faux Channel quilted makeup bag (which I left behind). If someone invites you to one of these events, definitely go but think of me sitting beside you, shaking my head wondering if I have matte look one or two and how do I achieve matte look three? Have you ever been to a trend show? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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The Boy Scouts Get Unleaded – Don’t Get Me Started!

In a new report, the Boy Scouts have voluntarily recalled 1.6 million badges that supposedly contain “unhealthy levels of lead.” No surprise that much like the toys from Mattel that were recently recalled, these badges were made in China. Am I the only one thinking we need to get the lead out and that if it’s in our toys and Boy Scout badges that it’s probably in just about everything from China? The Boy Scouts get unleaded – Don’t Get Me Started!

I could get all political and tell you that our president is the one who slashed an entire government department down to one person or something ridiculous like that who oversees the stuff that comes from overseas but where would the surprise or the fun be in writing about that, huh? No, much like many sad or depressing things in life, I choose to try and find the humor in this awful situation.

Okay, I admit it, I have more than a small axe to grind with the Boy Scouts. Never mind they threw me out as a kid (read that blog here… http://www.somelikeitscott.com/2006.09.01_arch.html#1158974678651 ) or that they’ve chosen to keep out gays as scout leaders. (Though I find this shocking considering the fact that if you ever get a gander at the Eagle Scouts in a newspaper, you immediately begin playing “Nerd, Nerd, Gay” – works the same was as “Duck, Duck, Goose” when you see these boys) I like the idea of the Boy Scouts but not so much their supposed standards and practices.

The thing that made me laugh about this unfunny situation is that the badges are described as the “plastic totem pole badges” that have the words, “Progress Toward Ranks” and are made by Kahoot Products of Georgia. (Now isn’t that all a kahoot?) I don’t get it. What the hell does “progress toward ranks” even mean? Sounds like something Hitler would be putting on the zany kids in his movement. I read the official word on what this thing is supposed to mean and I still don’t get it (see it for yourself here… http://www.geocities.com/~pack215/progress.html ) but supposedly it’s for “immediate wolf and bear recognition” – now the only thing that would make that sound gayer is if they added recognition for twinks and otters and somehow they could make the shape of the badge more phallic than a totem pole!

But back to the real problem which is the lead. What is it about China and its products that have everything laced with unhealthy amounts of lead? And are the Chinese using any of these products or are they just shipping them stateside to either get rid of the damage goods or kill off our entire next generation of Americans with their overleaded products? I’m not someone who believes the world is out to get us but come on, don’t you have to start to wonder?

Or could it be that ever since we decided to put Rosie the Riveter out of a job and sell ourselves to the lowest bidder so we could create a larger mark up and allow our fat cat corporations to get a little fatter that we not only lost US jobs but our integrity and now our health? Oops, there I go getting political again.

I can’t help it, even with all the political craziness I read in the paper everyday, I can’t help but be a Yankee Doodle Dandy but from now on before I stick that feather in my cap and call it macaroni, you bet I’ll be looking to see if it’s got a “Made in China” label before I stick it anywhere. The Boy Scouts get unleaded – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Seattle – A Starbucks Every Six Feet – Don’t Get Me Started!

Anyone who has read any of my blogs knows that I love me some Starbucks coffee. I tried to get off coffee for awhile but like a lover that you know isn’t good for you but feels too good in the moment for you to care about the later consequences, for better or worse I’m addicted I suppose. Now for those of us aficionados of Starbucks we know that the first store ever was in Seattle (and yes, that’s about the extent of the sight-seeing I’ve ever done while here on business) but now, you can’t walk down a street without seeing at least three Starbucks. Seattle – A Starbucks every six feet – Don’t Get Me Started!

Honestly, I don’t know how they can all make money with there being so many so close to one another (but I’m sure they’re fine and don’t need me worrying about them making money). You go inside and as you know, they all pretty much look the same. As do the employees. It’s almost a little creepy how much the people look like my Starbucks people at home and yet they’re not them. They’re all very friendly and smile at you as if you’re their old friend. And while this is comforting in my Starbucks (where like Cheers, everybody knows my name) it’s just a little discomforting from complete strangers. Could it be that they’re the new version of the pod people (but of course instead of big pods like Invasion of the Body Snatchers it would be big coffee beans that they came out of) and they actually do “know” me from the “programming” they got when they were in the bean before they hatched?

I’ve never been a conspiracy theorist but I have to tell you that seeing this many Starbucks locations, you can’t help but wonder if like Soylent Green, it isn’t made from people or something. Are they coffeeing us all up for a big takeover of the planet? Or are they (dare I even think it) going to take over the planet by taking it away from us mere addicted humans, causing everyone to be out on the streets begging for a lick of some coffee grinds instead of liquor?

All this to say that it hasn’t stopped me from going every morning to get my coffee at one of the locations here but even with the camouflage of each one of them looking identical, when you see this many lined up, it loses it’s sort of cool coffee house vibe. I remember my pal Betsy and I used to go get coffee and sit there gabbing away the hours but I don’t even know how I would tell her to meet me at a Starbucks here. If you were listening in on my cell phone conversation it would probably go something like this, “Meet me at the Starbucks on 10^th avenue. No, the one that is to the left of Old Navy, not the one on the right side of it. Huh? You don’t know which one I’m talking about? Ugh, okay, let’s just meet at the one that’s directly across the street from Old Navy, okay? Yes, there’s one there too, it just opened. Oh dear Lord, just meet me at the Old Navy, there’s only one of them and then we’ll go to one of the Starbucks from there, okay?” Seattle – A Starbucks every six feet – Don’t Get Me Started!

(I don’t know if this is accurate but here’s a site someone made with pictures of the Starbucks locations in Seattle. I’m sure there are more than this… http://www.starbuckseverywhere.net/Seattle.htm )

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No Wonder Most Of Seattle Is Depressed! – Don’t Get Me Started!

So the minute I got off the plane I began to feel it. Yes, rain, gloom, doom…welcome to Seattle. I’m here for about ten days on a business trip and just like a video postcard, the minute I got my luggage and went up and over at the airport Habitrail to get a cab, I could see that the rain was falling a mile a minute. No wonder most of Seattle is depressed! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Okay now before you Seattle fleece wearing, look at us we have Starbucks and Seattle’s Best Coffee people start coming down on me, let me just say that I happen to love the downtown of this town but this weather, come on.

People start with you the minute that you land, “Did you see Mount Hood from the plane? Isn’t it amazing?” Now I’m no nature person. My parents were the original Green Acres couple and my partner and I have followed suit. I don’t know anything about Mount Hood (sounds like some uncircumcised date my friend once had) but between that and the Space Needle, it would just seem that Seattle is the phallic symbol capital of the world. Good for Seattle that it has nature everywhere you look but I’m more excited about the Nordstrom and Kenneth Cole in walking distance from one another.

The people here are from some other planet. A planet where trans music (and we’re not talking RuPaul trans here – visit the site later this month for a fab interview I did with the “Ru” her/himself!) no, it’s a land where crocheted hats and fleece reign supreme. There’s more brown, blue and corduroy here than a lesbian convention. I’ll be the first to admit that I just don’t get it. Add all the piercing and the multi-colored hair and you feel as though you’ve walked into a freak show that inhabited an entire town.

True the streets are much cleaner than most big cities and other than the homeless people (who mostly talk to themselves) it’s one of the few cities that feels really safe. But it’s the weather. I’m telling you, if I lived here I’d be twelve hundred pounds. I’d sit inside all day watching “the crystal raindrops fall and the beauty of it all” (well, you get the idea) watching Mickey and Judy movies and eating myself into oblivion. (Now that’s depressing, right?)

The amazing thing here is that you know you’re a tourist and everyone else does too because the residents of this fair city don’t seem to use umbrellas at all. This I really don’t understand. I mean, besides the obvious (that you get soaking wet) it seems to be some sort of weird clique as you see the citizens walk around with a hat on possibly but never an umbrella. (Of course, you do see the occasional gay with some big ass umbrella he got as part of a Drakkar cologne giveaway trying not to let his Kenneth Cole’s get wet.) I guess when you have frizzy hair and no product in it you don’t have to worry so much but if I ever went without an umbrella I’d leave a trail of product behind me so thick that Hansel and Gretel would be able to track me down.

These people want you to think they’re all granola eating, coffee drinking, thrift store wearing “green” folk. But I think that thanks to the weather, they’re just too depressed to get done up. So you can say that Vegas is vain and has no real culture but if this organic, no deodorant wearing civilization is the alternative, I say, “Darling I love you but give me Park Avenue” (and some sunshine).

Like most things in life, this weather just annoys me more than anything. So don’t write in and tell me how much I should love this city, I do it’s just that it needs more sunshine, Axe body spray and Prozac (in my humble opinion). To be continued…I’m here for another seven days! No wonder most of Seattle is depressed! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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7 Out Of 15 Designers Are Out For Project Runway Season 4 – Don’t Get Me Started!

I love telling everyone that I was chosen as the Ultimate Fan Blogger for Season 3 of Project Runway (contact Bravo now and let them know you want me to blog for season 4 - http://www.bravotv.com/Contact_Us/index.shtml subtle, right?). I’ve watched since the first episode of season 1 and while I don’t know if I truly am the “Ultimate Fan” (there are many people who claim to be at this point) I do loves me some Runway. However, the shocking news that there were originally four male designers claiming to be gay in the new season and then the tally went up to seven (leaving one straight male designer) was not as big a shock as Jeffrey winning last season. 7 out of 15 designers are out for Project Runway Season 4 – Don’t Get Me Started!

As if Bravo wasn’t the gay, gay, gayer than gay network as it is (remember that they were the ones who brought Queer Eye over from the UK, have the show Working Out with the lesbian workout Nazi and that OCD freak on their Flipping Out show…to name a few) it would seem that it’s going to get a whole lot gayer. Never mind that Tim Gunn (who is currently boring them in the aisles with his own show) will be back this season but we’ll also get to see designer fave Michael Kors pout his lips and say, “I was underwhelmed” for another season too. All of this is fine with me but when the major gay sites start touting the news that so many of the designers will be gay I just have to say that if they’re looking for me to muster up some surprise, I just can’t do it.

I mean, come on, let’s face it, one of the reasons that any stereotype is funny at all is the fact that there is a large percentage in the group that actually act that way. Like it or not (and if the Bravo and other TV execs had their way, it’s the only view of gays we’d ever see) there are some major queens out there. Add some chiffon, taffeta and having to make designer fashions out of what you find in your apartment and tell me you aren’t going to have some swish with your swatches? I love the gays (and as I am one that’s a good thing, wouldn’t you say?) and so I love them all – swishy, butch or just your average forty-something gay like me. Because at the end of the day what we’re all looking for is acceptance, right? So why not accept that some gays are screaming, limp-wristed sissy Mary la-la’s (as I lovingly call them)? If it makes them happy and they make me laugh then okay, it’s good TV (and I don’t mean TV like transvestite mind you).

So I say, bring on the gays but don’t ask me to be shocked that a show about fashion designers has gays (or so many as some articles put it) on it. It’s expected, demanded and as some gay organization just came out with its gay scorecard for the networks’ new season (apparently we’re down something like 2 lead gays and a couple of supporting gays this season but I think we gained a transsexual – go team) they need to give Bravo a pink Pulitzer prize for the most “pride” when it comes to gays on television.

And for those who swore off Runway last season after the upset of the Jeffrey win, come on, you know you’ll be back to watch the new season with the rest of us. I read the comments to my blog and I also read the message boards but come on people, how can you honestly resist? There could be another Austin Scarlett or a Chloe or even, dare I say it, the most Auntie Mame television character in recent history, Laura this season and do you want to miss out on all of that? You know you don’t. And in the words of Tim Gunn, I say, “Carry on!” But don’t ask me to be surprised that for once we gays are outnumbering the straights in something crazy like say, fashion. 7 out of 15 designers are out for Project Runway Season 4 – Don’t Get Me Started!

You can read all my Runway blogs from last season and enjoy Laura’s finale runway music on my site Some Like It Scott at http://www.somelikeitscott.com/somelikerunway.html

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