It’s Official, I Have The Gayest Family In The World – Don’t Get Me Started!

For the longest time I was a bit like Tigger. You know, “the wonderful thing about Tiggers is I’m the only one.” Or at least it seemed as though I was the only gay in the family. Sure there was that cousin of my father’s who everyone always referred to as “Rita The Dyke” – in fact, I have no idea what her last name was – unless of course it actually was “Dyke” but I guess then that would make her middle name, “The” and although I’ve heard some doozies in my day, that’s a middle name I haven’t heard and seems a bit silly. So for the longest time I reveled in the fact that I was the self-appointed “Gaytriarch” of the family. However, that was all about to change and with a new recent family member on the roster it’s official, I have the gayest family in the world! – Don’t Get Me Started!

First there was a first cousin of mine who came out to me. I saw this one coming as all the while he was growing up (he’s at least ten years my junior) everyone always said, “You’re just like Scott” so let’s face it, was he like me because we resembled one another (which we did) or because, well…you know…the implied…? When he came out he was truly a force to be reckoned with as he was so gay that he made me feel not only like a heterosexual in comparison but also made me seem like the dullest person in the world. He had gay everything. I used to kid him that he probably was using gay soap and gay toothpaste. If it was “gay” he had it. But the best story of this cousin’s coming out was when he took his parents to a gay Pride parade. Some history for you - my aunt and uncle were the ultimate hippies in their youth, driving across country in their VW van, making love not war. So it was with open arms they embraced their son’s gayness (mostly because it seemed to explain why he had been such a pain in the ass in his formative years – or as they used to call me in my youth, “high strung”). So they went with their son to the Pride parade. When they arrived my aunt was very confused as it seemed as though they were at the end of the parade route but she went along with it, figuring her son knew where they should be. Well, turns out she thought they would be marching in the parade not watching it. She was disappointed, to say the least.

Next up was a second cousin once removed (I think that’s the connection but I always get confused once you get to the seconds and the removal business). He came out to me and the worst part about all of this was that my first cousin (from the previous chapter) was the council for him and his parents during his coming out. The nerve, here I was fully prepared as the Gaytriarch to handle such matters yet I was never called upon. There was also another cousin who was one of the lesser knowns that came out and again, the gayest cousin in the world took care of the education process while I learned about it all second hand, much later and chose to just sit back a bit bitter about the whole thing.

So when the first cousin’s first cousin on his father’s side (only related to me by marriage) was young it seemed that we had yet another “Scott” on our hands and as he grew and entered high school he was bar mitzvah and soon after announced he was an official member of the club. So all ready you can see how lousy my family is with gays (read that blog here - http://hubpages.com/hub/Relatively_Speaking_My_Family_Is_Lousy_With_Gays ). But the semi-shocker this week (let’s face it, even though people may say it themselves and relatives may say it, the truth is that I think it’s more denial and not that they don’t know they or someone else is gay – the stereotype rings true I’m afraid, gaydar does exist.) Well back to the semi-shocker, the first cousin’s first cousin’s Dad is gay! Oh, sure it was a suspicion of the entire family for quite some time but the rumor was officially confirmed and now with yet another gay (even if only by marriage) confirmed, it’s true and it’s official, I have the gayest family in the world! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Its-Official--I-Have-The-Gayest-Family-In-The-World

The MikWright Kids Have Done It Again – Don’t Get Me Started!

For those of you who have been living under a rock or haven’t sent a greeting card to anyone in the last decade or so I have to say, “Wake up people!” The ONLY card to send anyone for any occasion is a MikWright card. If you’ve read my blogs you should all ready know how much I love Tim and Phyllis (yes, in that way) over at MikWright but in case you were in the hospital (the only reason acceptable for not reading my blog) then allow me to educate you once again. (And to learn more about MikWright, go to my “Favorite Things” on my site at My Favorite Things) But most importantly on to the topic of the day (month, year – okay the freakin’ century) The MikWright kids have done it again – Don’t Get Me Started!

Imagine if you will a young(ish) forty-something gay starting a website. What to do? What to put on the blank pages? And what photos to put on to make him look as thin as possible? Yes, there were many questions I had for myself as I began the journey of creating my own website. But one thing I knew for certain, that was that people were going to want to know what “my favorite things” were and why you ask? Well haven’t you seen the bracelets WWSW? (No, not “What Would Jesus Do? But What Would Scott Want? – okay they don’t exist.) But let’s face it, I’m a guy you want to give gifts to, right? But I digress. Without a doubt the first thing that would go on the Fave Things page was MikWright. I had been buying their cards for years along with their calendars and other merch so I knew they had to take the journey of building my website with me. However not knowing how things work in the land of websites and links (the only two “Links” I knew were Lancelot Link and Link from The Mod Squad) I figured I should be a good Jewish boy and ask for permission to include them on the site. To be honest I thought I’d never hear back from the card moguls but the fates were shining down and Phyllis and Tim proved the old cliché is true – the bigger they are, the nicer they are. They allowed me to include them on the site, sent me great stuff and thus a meneagetrois (of sorts) began. We became members of the Mutual Admiration Society and dare I say, if loving them is wrong, I don’t want to be right (just want to be MikWright – couldn’t resist).

Through our emails (and a lovely meeting with Tim here in Vegas as he jetsetted through) we became close and I felt that I had to share some of my classic family photos with them. (Yes, in my constant battle to lose my status as The Greatest Never Was Been There Ever Was – I will do anything and becoming a card star seemed like a possible way “in”) And so it came to pass that they chose two photos from my collection (one of me in drag at the age of seven or something and one of my mother from the 60’s). They added their sassy biting humor to the photos in order for them to become MikWright worthy, and voila! See my card here http://hubpages.com/hub/Scott_Becomes_A_Greeting_Card or visit the MikWright website at http://www.mikwright.com to see all the fabulous cards and gift items) As if that wasn’t enough, my mother and I were chosen to receive a true honor – we were not only nominated but we won the opportunity to become coasters as well! (Okay, truth be told there was no one else in our category, nor an awards show but I wanted to make it sound as show bizzy as possible)

Try as I might to convince Phyllis and Tim that what they really need is a Jewish line of cards (Can you say MikWrightRosen? I can!) Such has yet to come to fruition (though I’m still lighting candles and holding out hope) however I was delighted to find that they wanted to include yet another photo of moi in their latest collection. (And this time not in drag) Wait for it, here it comes – a photo of me at an early age on Santa’s lap (have no idea why a nice Jewish boy was on Santa’s lap – was probably asking for something but letting him know it was okay if he got me something “gently used” – like my cousin Sheila – as I wasn’t gentile) and the caption inside reads “so I pee a little when I get excited, give a kid a break santa! Happy holidays” How brilliant is that?

When the first two cards came out, all I was interested in was “outselling” my mother’s card but now with the latest card coming out I’m starting an all out campaign to be the hottest holiday item since Guilt To Go Elmo (This was a toy that was only produced in my mind – it’s Elmo and when you poke him he’s like, “that’s okay, go ahead and play with your other toys. I’ll just sit here on this hard shelf that no doubt will kill my back while you enjoy yourself with G.I. Joe. No really, I’m fine. Coughing? Sure I’m coughing – you sit up here with all the dust without a Claritin and tell me you wouldn’t be choking but I’ll be fine. <sputter> <cough> no really, go ahead, play, enjoy yourself.”)

So screw Christmas in July, June or even December – start stocking up immediately to send to every single person you know. From all my nudging Tim he finally sent me an email that said, “You sold 6 to a beauty shop in Idaho” – my response to him was immediate – “Do I need to go on a publicity tour? I can start there and sign the six cards they bought and go boutique to salon across the country signing and doing “readings” of my card. Dear God, please tell me they bought six dozen and not just six cards!?!” So while I assemble my assistants and security for my cardcert tour, do yourself and everyone you know a favor – go buy my damn card immediately. (And here’s the link for you http://www.mikwright.com/orders/searchcards_detail.asp?ID=549&Keyword=pee&group=1 ) And as Tiny Tim said (Yes, I played the role when I was a mere six or seven), “God Bless Us, Everyone. Well, those who buy my card – screw everyone else!”

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/The-MikWright-Kids-Have-Done-It-Again

Subtle Hatred Toward Gay Marriage? I Think Not So Subtle! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I came across this article on the Internet and thought to myself, “Are we hearing about this now because California just began allowing same sex marriage and “they” (the infamous “they”) want to show how immoral we are and how us homosexuals lack any sense of ethics or moral code?” Yeah, probably. Subtle hatred toward gay marriage? I think not so subtle! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Here’s an excerpt from the article:

RICHMOND, Va. (June 23) - The couple walked into a Norfolk courthouse on a spring day, exchanged a few words, and within 10 minutes, were seemingly husband and wife.

It was an unremarkable ceremony - except that several weeks later, officials realized the shapely bride might not have been a woman.

Now authorities in Virginia, where same-sex marriages are illegal, are weighing whether to file misdemeanor charges against the couple, Antonio E. Blount, 31, and Justin L. McCain, 18. An announcement is expected this week.

A prosecutor says the decision to press charges could turn on whether the pair knowingly misled officials when they applied for a license and later, traveled to a courthouse for a ceremony. If the bride was transgender, and identified as a woman, it is unclear whether the marriage would be considered illegal.

The pair went to Newport News Circuit Court on March 24 to obtain a marriage license - McCain appearing as a woman and saying the name "Justine" before a deputy, said Newport News Circuit Court clerk Rex Davis.

McCain produced a Virginia driver's license, but a design quirk - the 'm' or 'f' for male or female appears directly against a darkened state seal - meant nobody noticed McCain's gender, Davis said.

"When things are rolling along and you don't have any reason to suspect that somebody is not being completely forthright with you, you might not take the time to check," said Davis, who issues about 2,200 licenses a year.

The same day, the couple traveled 19 miles south to Norfolk, where local marriage commissioner Al Coward performed the ceremony.

"They pawned themselves off as a man and a woman, and they did a very good job," he said.

 Now while I believe that this couple truly misled authorities in order to be married it seems as if once again, “the straightees” seem more interested in playing the victim to the “big bad gays” than about the law being broken. And much like the fraternity guy who has to “cover up” his exploratory gay exploits while testing his sexuality, the idea is to strike back against the gays for their deceptive powers that somehow made their dick land in the hypnotic gay’s mouth before they themselves are labeled a “fag”, the authorities here seem to be working under the same set of rules when they say, “they pawned themselves off as a man and woman, and they did a very good job.” Only by the gays doing a “very good” disguise job (no doubt worthy of Mission Impossible – the TV series where the character you would least suspect would suddenly start tearing off his face and there he was, Peter Graves under a mask that really was the other actor but you didn’t care because it was always shocking and always good) rather than the authorities not doing their job and checking things out appropriately to begin with when they let the two get married.

Look, I don’t know if the person that was the “bride” is a transgender person or not and if they are, that brings up a whole other set of thoughts and issues for everyone. They broke the law. I know a lot of people have a Baretta mentality – “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time. Whoa oh oh oh” But one could argue there are lots of laws on the books in many states that don’t get enforced. And frankly no one would have known they broke the law if Justin hadn’t gone back to the courthouse to change his name to Penelopsky Aaryonna Goldberry the following month. (I’ll give you Justin, Justine or Penelopsky is not all that bright and come on if you were going to pick a new name would that be your choice?) But honestly, weren’t the officials the ones that screwed this up in the first place? As someone who personally walked around with an “F” over the word “Sex” on my driver’s license for three years – read the blog here http://hubpages.com/hub/The_DMV_Is_Convinced_I_Am_A_Woman ) I know that the officials are usually more upset about having a mistake discovered than they are about the mistake itself. It took practically an act by God to get my license changed back.

I guess at the end of it all, I just feel as though this is another way for the powers that be to exploit a situation to show that we gays don’t deserve to be married. Trust me, if I read one more comment from someone about the fact that marriage’s sole purpose it to repopulate our overcrowded planet I’m going  to puke. I won’t go into the argument that asks why men who marry women and physically one or the other can’t have children or chose not to have children should be married because I’d be stooping to their level and I’m only 5’4” to begin with anyway. I just think we’re going to see many more articles that try to paint us as fools before this is over. And that’s a real crime.

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Subtle-Hatred-Toward-Gay-Marriage-I-Think-Not-So-Subtle

Old Pictures, Old Feelings, Oh My God – Don’t Get Me Started!

So I was going through a bunch of old photos last night. I don’t know about you and your family but my family seems to have documented every moment of everyone’s life in photographs. We have so many and some are so old of relatives whose names we can’t even remember that it sort of reminds me of a time when Michael and I were in a kitchy little store in Philly and they had a basket of old photos. There was a sign on the basket that read, “Instant Relatives.” Well, I don’t need to buy anymore relatives as I have a ton (living and dead) and apparently everything they ever did was documented on film. But as I went through the photos I have at my house looking for a couple of specific ones, I was surprised at my reaction to what I was seeing. Old pictures, old feelings, oh my God – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know that when most people look at photos of old times they may get a bit nostalgic but as with so much of my life, I did not have the typical reaction. Sure, I thought about people I’ve fallen out of touch with and where they were or wondered if I was ever that thin or even questioned what I was wearing but more than anything I looked at myself in all those old photos and thought that I really haven’t changed all that much (on the inside). I know it may not be a popular thing to say or the “right” thing to say but I don’t think that I’ve changed all that much as a person over the years. I’d like to think that I’ve “grown” become more understanding, patient and whatever the hell else I’m supposed to have learned but when I look at those photos I realize that if I’m completely honest with myself, I haven’t really evolved all that much.

Sure, some of the photos that depict a specific time and place gave me the feeling that I can only describe in terms of being like a movie. If it was in a movie, I would be looking at the photo and then I would get sucked into some weird vortex that actually placed me inside the picture (which would have fallen to the ground as I was now in the picture and couldn’t be in the photo and holding it at the same time, right?). In these cases I remember exactly what I was thinking or feeling when the photo was taken and the emotions flood into every pore of my being. Yet there are some that could be of someone else. I can’t really remember the photo, when it was taken, why or who took the photo or anything else about it for that matter. Still there is a third category of some photos that I remember from the photo itself but not the actual event. You know, like the photos of you as a baby. You remember seeing the photo your entire life but you don’t really recall that bib and how it felt around your neck or why you’re wearing the “Today I Am An Angel” side of the bib instead of the reverse side that read, “Today I Am A Devil.”

Okay, so all ready I guess that I’m wrong, that in fact this was a form of nostalgia but not nostalgia in the sense of wishing for those times back or thinking, “Wow, I really have gotten smarter since this photo.” No, I’ve stayed pretty much the same, untouched by life events or books I’ve read. I’ve learned nothing. I’m a fossil that has been preserved in a rock that is my head, untouched by the outside forces that are supposed to shape, mold and change you. I’m just Scott. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, really it’s just what it is. I know that I’m glad to have all these photos and I enjoy looking at them I just wonder if I’m missing something by not having a sense that I’ve “come a long way baby.” Old pictures, old feelings, oh my God – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Old-pictures--old-feelings--oh-my-God

I Was A Victim Of A Pirate’s Road Rage – Don’t Get Me Started!

So there I was simply doing my typical drive to my parents for Sunday dinner. (That’s right, in addition to talking to my mother several times a day, we go there for dinner every Sunday – tell me every mother and father don’t want a Jewish gay son!) So we’re driving along in the 100+ degree heat and getting ready to pick up dinner to take to my parents. We love coming in screaming, “Meals on Wheels!” So we stop at a light when we can’t help but notice that the man in the car to the left of us is rolling down his window. In a voice so gravelly that he sounds as though he’s still munching on broken glass he screams at us, “It’s 35 miles an hour NOT 50 back there!” He was so salty sounding that all I could think was that he was missing a patch and a parrot. I was a victim of a pirate’s road rage – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know that we truly disappointed the old seafarer as our reaction was to have no reaction at all. I guess I just couldn’t believe that he was yelling at me about this and it was so hot that we never even opened up the window to hear the rant full volume. After he made his declaration he rolled his window back up and then we all had to sit there just feeling uncomfortable. (You know, like when someone tells you that they can’t have children or something. I mean, what do you say to that? So you just sit there, make that empathy face you’ve no doubt practiced in the mirror and then eventually the air clears and everyone goes back to being normal.) The good news was that this was not one of the longer lights so the awkwardness lasted less time than a lull in the conversation or inappropriate comment.

I did notice that he had a handicapped placard hanging from the rear view mirror of his dinged up Hyundai SUV. Perhaps he was mentally challenged? (Is that the correct term?) Or perhaps he went crazy when his parrot died? Or maybe with the heat, his peg leg had started to shrink up as the moisture went out of his leg. I don’t know what his ailment was but rest assured it was something mental.

As we started driving Michael said that he was bummed it took him by such surprise as he wished he would have rolled down the window and just given a loud, “ARGHHHHHH!” And perhaps that’s what was needed as it would have been communicating with him in his own language. I don’t know, perhaps I was speeding but did it warrant screaming such as this? Apparently to him it did.

When I was an assistant choreographer at Disneyland they called me, “Peter Pan” no doubt due to my boyish good looks and energy and I’d like to think to this day I could still play the role if the right lighting designer was on board with the project. So perhaps this pirate was Captain Hook coming after me, Peter Pan. I don’t recall seeing another hand or hook on the steering wheel but perhaps it was there, that infamous hook. Whatever the reason, the good news is that he didn’t have his cannon or pistol with him or even his plank. I guess if you have to be the victim of road rage, better a pirate than a man with gun. (Because as the musical, Annie Get Your Gun taught us, “You can’t get a man with a gun!”) I was a victim of a pirate’s road rage – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/I-Was-A-Victim-Of-A-Pirates-Road-Rage

More Than Anything I Miss My Ass – Don’t Get Me Started!

I don’t believe in feeling the age you are because frankly I’ve always been very immature and I’m just lucky I guess that my looks supported this too. What can I say? I’m freakin’ Peter Pan! But recently as my “middle age man spread” began and my metabolism moved on to greener pastures I couldn’t help but notice a few changes in my appearance as I plunge headfirst into my mid-forties. (Or as I call myself, a forty-something gay – see the video blogs at http://www.somelikeitscott.com/40sogay.html ) Most recently, I caught a glimpse of my backside in the mirror and it’s truly the first time I’ve ever felt even the least bit nostalgic for my younger days. More than anything, I miss my ass – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I was young I was so thin that I used to pray at night that my waist would get to 28 inches so that I could finally buy pants at stores like Chess King (if you don’t remember this store, you’re not in your forties – it was a cheap men’s clothing store that was so trendy it almost hurt your eyes. Eventually it was my first job too and I ended up being the “Third Key” which was a glorified way of saying you were the third person under the General Manager and the Assistant General Manager to have a key to the store. This enabled you to open the store on Sundays when neither of the “real” managers wanted to work and you also submitted payroll.) At any rate, I was really thin. So thin in fact that years later my guy saw pictures of me in my youth and said, “Wow, Honey you were so thin you looked tall!” So of course I immediately asked if I should lose a bunch of weight to look taller (no one in my immediate family has ever made it over the 5’5” mark) to which my guy said that it was probably an age thing and the angle of the photo. And so I sunk back to my height of 5’4” resigned to the fact that I no longer had a “tall” appearance and something more akin to the appearance of a Jewish vaudeville comedian who played the Catskills long after their heyday!

Okay, so I was thin and short but because I was a dancer what God didn’t give me in height, he gave me in great calves and a stupendous ass! (I’m sure that dancing eight hours a day, teaching dance, performing in shows and always walking faster than anyone I know everywhere helped to “build up” these two areas too) I recently looked at a photo my mother has at their house. The photo is of me, my father and my brother. My Dad is in the center and we’re on either side of him so my brother and I are both a little in profile and I have to say that both my brother and I have identical asses – at least in that photo. It’s an older photo and since that photo was taken my brother has gone on to marry, have children, etc. and we have other things to talk about I haven’t quite gotten around to asking him if he feels his ass has shifted. And since he lives in another state I haven’t been able to subtly (as if I do ANYTHING subtly) to look at it myself. (But rest assured the next time I see him I will be looking)

But let’s face it, I’m a gay man and in this area I need to be a bit selfish. I don’t really care if my brother’s ass has shifted but boy am I bummed that mine has indeed moved a bit. I tried to tell myself that it’s the newer lower rise jeans I bought that are giving this illusion but oddly enough apparently the designer (are you listening Mr. Klein) who cut my jeans must have also cut my sweat pants (not so much) and my naked body. Yet when I feel my ass it doesn’t seem so bad (is it wrong to walk about my office feeling my ass? Probably so…well, not bad I guess unless I ask other people to feel it, right?) Enough! It’s back to the gym for squats, lunges and anything else I can possibly due to try to restore my ass to its former glory.  I don’t know if it can be done but I’m going to give it the old Jewish man try! But there’s a part of me that is a bit afraid that along with my youth slipping away, so too has my ass. More than anything, I miss my ass – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/More-Than-Anything-I-Miss-My-Ass

What I mean by this is that if you’re a guy (and yes, I am) when you hold the door for a woman, she may be surprised or delighted but she simply goes through the door. On the other hand, if you hold a door open for a man (and I’m not talking about doing the “handoff” maneuver where you hold the door until the other person has their hand on it to keep it open) if you hold the door and allow the man to walk through it he will most times seemingly instinctively, have to put his hand on the door too. He will not let you hold the door while he walks through the door. He HAS to put his hand on the door. Distrust? I don’t know, I’m not a doctor, I just calls ‘em like I see ‘em.

But I defy you to walk around in civilized society and not pay attention to this now and if you’re at all like me, it will amaze you as well as annoy you. Watch those women sashay through the open door you hold like they’re on America’s Next Top Model while you watch the men try to get their hand on the door as quickly as possible as if they’re afraid it will shut like a bear trap in the woods on them! And before you say it, let me say it for you – the same is true for gay men as well. Unless of course that gay man headed toward the door has a French manicure above and below, then you may have to hold the door as he reaches into his “man bag” for his lip gloss as he walks through the door you hold.

I’m a door holder from way back. It has been ingrained in me to the point that is an involuntary reflex and in a way I’m very delighted to see that so many (both young and old) still carry on this custom. Lest you think I am nostalgic for everything from the days of yore, I can assure you that I am not. I’m glad we’ve evolved from let’s say, having a different entrance for African Americans and so-called “whites.” But in a world where people are on their cell phones at the same time they’re talking to you, cut you off in traffic (even though they have the Jesus “fish” on their car) or cut you off from what you’re saying interrupting you, in the world of rudeness let’s stop for a moment of kindness and hold the door for one another shall we? All the while seeing that women will let you hold it and men won’t (yes, implied innuendo intended). Holding the door – women trust it, men don’t – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Holding-The-DoorWomen-Trust-It--Men-Dont

Cyd Charisse Died And Took A Piece Of Me With Her – Don’t Get Me Started!

These are the times when I feel my age. When I realize that I’m no different than a lot of other people who were in their forties when I was turning twenty and laughing at them. With my Sony Walkman firmly planted in my ears listening to Culture Club (and who am I kidding, Liza Minnelli) I scoffed at them when they tried to tell me things were better “back in the day” and now like some odd twist of karmic fate, I find that I have become that person. I’ve become the older generation and so it has happened again, another celebrity death but this time Cyd Charisse died and took a piece of me with her – Don’t Get Me Started!

It’s not the creaking bones in the morning, it’s not trying to figure out how to use all the features on my cell phone that makes me feel old, for me it’s all about the business that I tried desperately to get into but every time I packed my bags to make the move I found the door locked. Show business has always been a very large part of my life. I was on stage at the age of six until my late thirties (and sometimes in an actual theatre). I acted out my life on stages with less than ten million people watching and now I’m singing my song for you. (Please forgive me Leon Russell for the bastardization of your amazing lyrics to A Song For You) I truly am the Greatest Never Was Been There’s Ever Been.

And so when it came across what used to be the airwaves and is now the cyberwaves (I guess) that Cyd Charisse died, a piece of me died too. You see, to those of us Never Was Beens when a celebrity dies it means that your childhood dream of meeting them and possibly working with them is over. No, you’ll never get to tell her that watching her dance with Fred Astaire in Bandwagon made you want to and helped you eventually become a choreographer. You’ll never be able to put her in dance position and feel as though you’re holding history in your arms. And so it’s with a glass half empty, filled with melancholy that it makes me look at all of show business when a legend dies, filled not so much with regret but with a sense of nostalgia that catches in my throat.

If I could pick a different time to be born I would always choose the 1930’s 0r 1940’s when the Golden Age of Hollywood was in full swing. When you think that the Jazz Singer (attributed as one of the first talkies) came out in 1927 and a mere twelve years later the studios were turning out Gone With The Wind and The Wizard of Oz I can only imagine how electrifying it must have been to live in Hollywood during those days. I’d gladly give up the microwave oven and the cell phone to get the opportunity to be around the studios in those days. But alas, with time travel not an option I’m left looking at a Hollywood run by corporations now (not visionary Jewish moguls) and as if it isn’t enough that Hollywood has lost all its glamour, so too has the Broadway stage.

There was a time when you looked to Broadway to be entertained by the top talent in the world. To make it there, you could truly make it anywhere and to a lot of us young hopefuls it was THE place. But like so many things that have been lost along the way, Broadway I fear is gone forever, or is it? You see the corporations have taken over Broadway as well. You look at celebrities (not actors) who have little to no talent and yet because they’ll sell some seats they’re staring on Broadway. And in case you’ve missed out on this change taking place or don’t understand it, let me give you an example which completely illustrates my point.

When A Chorus Line opened in the 1970’s it was ground breaking. Not just because the characters were derived from actual stories of Broadway dancers (known as “gypsies”) but also because the characters on the stage weren’t all the best dancers or singers in the world. Now the actors playing the characters may have been but they performed as their characters, singing and dancing like the people they were portraying. There were no stars of A Chorus Line because it was designed to celebrate the chorus dancers that go from show to show in the ensembles and their journeys to make it onto Broadway. While Donna McKecchnie was well known she was not a Broadway legend (yet). So when they decided to revive A Chorus Line I knew there would be problems. Forget that the stories the characters told might seem dated (talking about Ed Sullivan and Robert Goulet), even with original cast members creating the show, they wouldn’t be able to get away from the fact that corporate America runs Broadway now and that with American Idol and all the reality talent competition shows afoot, the kids they would get to be in the show wouldn’t get the show at all. So when you see A Chorus Line 2007/2008 you see a glossy show with everyone performing to their best (not their character’s best) and you have someone like Mario Lopez as Zach – he can’t act, sing or dance but he’s been on Dancing With The Stars so he’s box office.  

I’ll accept the moniker of being one of the “older generation” with pride because I can still remember being moved to tears by Bette Davis in Now Voyager, being made to laugh by Donald O’Connor in Singin’ In The Rain and sitting in an audience in the late 70’s when A Chorus Line toured through Arizona as a young man feeling every word of “Paul’s” story because it was close to mine. (I’m suddenly hearing Killing Me Softly – by Roberta Flack in my mind.) I’m sorry that Hollywood and Broadway have gone from a Golden Age to a Bronze Age (at best) yet when I saw Patti LuPone on the Tony’s singing “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” it gave me hope too. So all is not lost, I suppose but one thing is for certain, Cyd Charisse died and took a piece of me with her – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Cyd-Charisse-Died-And-Took-A-Piece-Of-Me-With-Her

Same Sex Marriage Begins In California – Don’t Get Me Started!

Do you mean to tell me that the heavens have not opened to weep? The ground hasn’t swallowed us all whole? People are still having children? How can this be when we were surely assured by the religious right that the world would end when same sex marriage began in California? Same sex marriage begins in California – Don’t Get Me Started!

So all ready the blogs and sites have begun their whole charge to agree, disagree but most importantly just want their opinion out there in the cyberworld we live in. Here’s one of the comments that didn’t surprise me but I think is what a lot of people may feel:

I'm thankful for the constitution and how it empowers the people to invoke their amendment rights. But at the same time, when the constitution was being written homosexuality was not an issue. I believe our forefathers are trembling with dismay and unbelief.

Now listen here you Mr. Feeling Bad for the Forefathers, we didn’t have Perez Hilton or TMZ so we have no real idea of what those crazy forefathers were up to now do we? We do know that they were sleeping with their slaves and wearing wigs so honestly, while they did a lot of good, let’s not make them saints here. They were men, common men who did some great things but were also by all accounts very smelly, must have had very itchy heads from the wigs and some even had wooden teeth so do we think that these boys were really completely in their right mind anyway?

Hey, I’m all about the flag, the look of the iconic signing of the Declaration of Independence, the whole fife and drum corps and all of it but let’s not kid ourselves here kids, if you don’t think that there weren’t homosexuals back then you’re out of your mind – someone was blowing more than a fife I’m sure. Gays didn’t come into existence when interior decorators were invented. I for one don’t think that the forefathers are “trembling with dismay and unbelief” I think they’re thinking, “Wait a redcoat minute here, women can vote? All the blacks are free? They make a pill to give me a major hardon? Whoa, dudes who knew?” I think they’re heads would be spinning so much that they would make “Regan” in the Exorcist look like an amateur and none of it would have to do with gay marriage.

Everyone needs to stop equating the thought of marriage to procreating. It would seem to me from watching Jerry Springer or just walking through a Wal-Mart that it doesn’t require marriage to make a baby. In fact we have more people making babies out of wedlock than in it at this point (and most of them not over the age of 14 - so way to go straightees!). And who the hell ever thought that they gays were saying that heterosexuals should be banned from living? (Let’s face it, if the straights weren’t around who would we gays overcharge for hairstyles, decorating or clothes?)

So listen here all you people who are trying to cling to your marriage like Beaver Cleaver’s mother to her pearls and day dress. The times they have changed. Sure some may not be for the better, even I admit that but what we are hopefully getting better at is treating people like…well…people. So stop all ready with your “end of the world” stories or even your Sodom And Gomorrah stories. Because after all, that’s what they are…stories, kids. The same way you say we have no proof that we crawled out of the ocean I say show me the proof that there was a hell of a party in that Sodom and Gomorrah place and that it was all the anal sex that caused the destruction. Let’s face it, the remnants you might find after a “gay party” would be so interesting, I find it very hard to believe that no one would save some of those artifacts to prove it happened. Come on, the glow necklaces, poppers, a g-string of biblical proportions (they didn’t call him, “Goliath” for nothing).

So if you Christians don’t mind, I’ll just stay at my computer writing away, working, feeding my cats, loving my male mate of almost twenty years now and not worry about the end of the world. There are so many more important things to worry about than that, you know, like what the hell is Mario Lopez doing on Broadway?!  Same sex marriage begins in California – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Same-Sex-Marriage-Begins-In-California

Legal Disclaimers At The Bottom Of Emails – Don’t Get Me Started!

I don’t know about you but I started only “skimming” emails a while back. When emailing first started I don’t think it was intended to be a way of communicating an entire life’s worth of activities however, in this day and age when people really don’t want to communicate with one another but want to give the appearance of being “in touch” they tend to write emails that make War and Peace look like a short story. And as if these missives aren’t long enough, now everyone is playing the CYA game (Cover Your Ass) by adding a lengthy legal disclaimer at the end of their email. Legal disclaimers at the bottom of emails – Don’t Get Me Started!

First let me say that I understand we’re in a litigious society and that everyone needs to be worried about someone taking an email and going straight to Judge Judy with it but come on people, I get it when a lawyer sends me an email with one of these disclaimers but my cousin? True, there are plenty of families who have sued one another but come on kids, if you’re just telling me about your kid’s soccer game, I hardly think there’s anything in there that would make me want to create a lawsuit about it.

And what about all the people who send the lengthiest emails in the world, add the legal disclaimer and then have the nerve to add the “Go green – please consider the environment before printing this email” line? What the hell is up with that and don’t they know that in most cases by adding that one line they made the email go just enough over that if I should print it, it has a second page and the only thing on it is their message about going green? (I think I hear some trees crying somewhere)

Look, I’m as conscious as I can be of the environment, people’s feelings and what I put into emails. You have to be if you’re any sort of a human being, right? But I just wonder if all the people who troll the Internet are putting these legal and “green” disclaimers on their emails that they send to “hook up” with people or perhaps the emails that contain photos of their ass or other anatomy? True, most likely unless you have a great printer the photos won’t come out all that great (don’t ask how I know) but still, it does give one pause, does it not? I mean, I want to know the person that I’m going to meet behind the 7/11 has the decency to not print my email to assist the environment. I mean, I’ll give you a blow job by a dumpster when I don’t even know you but for God sakes, let’s keep the environment healthy by not printing the six emails that got us to the side of the dumpster, shall we?

The thing is that I don’t care what you put at the bottom of your email, if someone really wants to sue you, they will. If someone wants to forward an email to someone else, they will as it only takes a click of a button. So what you’re accomplishing by putting this legal disclaimer at the bottom of your emails in my opinion is similar to the kids who used to threaten to tell the teacher, their parents or someone else when you would get in a disagreement with them on the playground. True, the playground is now cyberspace but the bullies and the cry babies are the same as they were when I was eight.  

Still, I’d much rather have to skip over a “green” or legal message at the bottom of my email than have to forward an email in the next ten minutes or risk having seven years of bad luck and more hair fall out because I didn’t forward a poem about a kid going to a store to try and buy his dying mother a pair of shoes at Christmas. (And don’t get me started on that farchacta song!) So go ahead, put whatever you want at the bottom of your email, I’ll just ignore it – like I ignore you and then tell you, “Wow, I don’t know what happened, maybe your email got lost in the junk mail folder or didn’t get through.” Legal disclaimers at the bottom of emails – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Legal-Disclaimers-At-The-Bottom-Of-Emails

Have A Nice Gay – Don’t Get Me Started!

If you’ve ever seen the movie Annie Hall, you’ll know what I’m talking about and if you’ve been reading my blogs since they started in 2006 you may also have heard me mention this before somewhere along the way. There’s what I consider the classic scene of Woody Allen and Tony Roberts walking down the street in New York and Woody Allen is going on and on about people who he thinks are being anti-Semites. He quotes things like a man who asked him, “Did Jew eat?” instead of asking, “Did you eat?” He swears that this is what the man said to him. Well, although I’d like to believe I’m not as neurotic as all that, today I had my car washed and there’s an older man who is the cashier and at the end of the transaction I’m almost certain that he said, “Have a nice gay!” – Don’t Get Me Started!

Silly right? But when you’re a Jewish gay man you’ve been called just about everything in the book so the least of your worries is someone telling you to have a nice gay. But what exactly does it mean? Of course I had to delve into it. Does it mean have sex with a nice man? Nah, probably too Jewish motherly thinking that’s the meaning. Or does it go back to the days of old when having a “gay old time” was something the Flinstones had at the “courtesy of Fred’s two feet” (This is the line that no one ever remembers from the theme song from the Flinstones and of course I know it. And now that I’ve written that it feels all dirty and like some strange fetish – not my original intent but hey, probably a nice gay old time for someone, if you’re into it.)

It sort of reminds me of the time I chose my doctor when we first moved to Las Vegas. I was convinced that I needed to have a gay doctor. I went through all the search engines, community centers and everything else until I finally found him (all the while under the protest of my guy who just wanted me to find a good doctor). Well, this guy may have been gay but was dull as dirt and I don’t think he exactly graduated at the top of his class in Honduras or wherever it was he got his degree. I remember the first visit and him asking me all these questions. You know the ones, what about sex, do you have it? How often? With how many people? Have you ever made love to a Hoover vacuum? (Okay, don’t know where that came from) But being the monogamous guy I am, I assured my doctor that I had been with the same man forever and that he could test away for all the diseases but that I was as clean as my grandmother’s coffee table (which was cleaned every day with lemon Pledge until there was more lemon Pledge than there was wood on the table). He was taken back a bit by my explanation of my relationship and seemed at a loss for words. When he could finally speak again all he could say was, “Oh. You’ve been together for twelve years? Oh. Well, good for you.” (Of course this was years ago and we’ll be celebrating twenty years this August) Although I just smiled and nodded at the time, I had no idea what this gay, I mean guy meant. Did he mean, “Good for you” in an “I can’t imagine anyone putting up with you for twelve minutes let alone twelve years” kind of way? Or did he mean, “Good for you” in a “Yeah, right…a monogamous gay relationship, what is this guy with a penguin?” (Note: Penguins mate for life). When he confided in me that his boyfriend of three years was a lawyer I exclaimed, “Oh my God, you’re a Jewish mother’s wet dream!” He didn’t laugh and seemed almost offended in a “didn’t get it kind of way” so I’ll be offended. I eventually found a good doctor who wasn’t gay but most importantly he was a good doctor.

Thing is that I rarely confront or question anyone when they say something. It seems impolite, right? You smile, nod and then call them a Nazi later, right? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? I also think I was born for short attention span theatre. I tend to not be able to repeat back to someone what they’ve said verbatim but instead tell them what I thought they said from my emotional perspective. So maybe he didn’t say, “Have a nice gay.” And what’s so wrong about saying that right? I mean, I’m much more offended by the “Have a blessed day” people than I would ever be about being told to have a nice gay. And since I consider myself a nice gay, it can’t be much of a leap to have a nice gay while still having a nice gay, right? Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Have-A-Nice-Gay

Hi, My Name Is Scott And I’m A Recovering Bluetoothheadsetaholic! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I admit it, there was a time when I couldn’t have a cell phone without the latest and greatest Bluetooth headset too. That’s right I woke in the morning, put the headset on and I was good for the day. But I got so tired of people being offended by thinking I was talking to them (or an imaginary playmate) that I finally just had enough and put the headset away. When I got my newest cell phone I never even “paired” my headset to the new phone because I understood that admitting there’s a problem is only the first step and that to really recover I must thoroughly examine the addiction to truly understand why I needed to change my life. So much like standing up in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, I feel compelled to say, “Hi, my name is Scott and I’m a recovering Bluetoothheadsetaholic!” – Don’t Get Me Started!

If I’m honest with myself other than the fact that when they first came out and I thought they were so cool with their blinking light going on and off on the side of your ear like Lieutenant Uhuru from Star Trek to be honest none of the three different makes and models were really all that great. I would find myself shouting to beat the band or cupping my hand over the headset and my mouth like I was a recording star (which while it looks cool, not really great when driving a vehicle or walking the streets). When I first got it, people would stare at me and although through the years a lot of people have stared at me (for all the wrong reasons like when I wore my parachute pants and Duran Duran hair in the 80’s) when I had my blue blinky headset on people stared for all the right reasons. Jealous much? But frankly I just couldn’t take the pressure of it all. You see on the whole I’m a really polite person (stop laughing, it’s true – I vent in my writing but in real life I play a nice Jewish boy). So I always felt awful when someone would say, “What?” to me and I hadn’t been talking to them at all. I hated having to put my index finger up to indicate “one second” to the Starbucks counter person as I mouthed in big over exaggerated fashion “I’m sorry” with my lips then made a comical cringing, “look at me, I’m an awful person” face. It was just enough.

The funny thing is that much like someone who gives up smoking, I am now a real Bluetooth Headset hater. I can’t stand the people as they walk around shouting into thin air about their personal life (having to say it so loudly so that it can be heard above everyone and everything). A prime example was a woman I saw outside of the grocery store the other day. She was a very large woman with her breasts spilling out of her nylon caftan as she was pacing in front of the store. Her hair was all kinds of fucked up and she didn’t really need any more help looking like an escaped mental patient. Yet here she was, screaming at the top of her lungs into her huge Bluetooth headset (looking like she was working at The Gap stocking the jeans wall or on tour with Madonna in the nineties) as she paced frantically and her boobs bobbed wildly bouncing off her stomach, “UH…oh oh…I’m sayin’ no you diddunt! Hey, whys don’t you call me back when you’re at the Taco Bell, I’ll tell you what to order for me and then I’ll be round when yous sees me.” Now there are so many things wrong with this scenario that it’s kind of hard to pick what’s worse. The “just fucked” looking hair? The caftan? The boobs spilling over and to the sides of the gut that stuck out just a bit further? Her seeming lack of any understanding of the English language? Or the fact that she was obese and was going to make it only worse by eating at Taco Bell? None of those things bothered me as much as the fact she was walking around like a caged animal, seemingly screaming at herself on the damn Bluetooth headset.

There is no real etiquette about the Bluetooth headset other than to not wear it in public or when dealing with the public. You don’t look like a hot Nichelle Nichols on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise you just look like an asshole with a huge piece of something that could be black waxy build up in your ear.

It reminds me of a joke book I had as a kid. There were two clowns and one had a banana in his ear. The other clown walked up to him and said, “Hey, what are you doing with a banana in your ear?” The other clown just looked at him and said, “What?” The first clown repeated himself, “Hey, what are you doing with a banana in your ear?” Again the second clown replies, “What?” This goes back and forth at least three times (because anyone who has ever done comedy knows, in comedy you always do things in threes) with the first clown getting very exasperated. Finally the clown takes the banana out of his ear and says to the other clown, “Sorry I couldn’t hear you, I had a banana in my ear.” This may be the reason that I dislike clowns but more importantly it seems as though this could be the same conversation you might have with someone who has a Bluetooth headset in, right?

So on the what’s hot and what’s not list you’ll find me saying, “Hot? – Listening and being polite to people” “What’s Not? – The Bluetooth headset!” Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Hi--My-Name-Is-ScottIm-A-Recovering-Bluetoothheadsetaholic

RSS Feeds – They’re Just Magic, That’s All – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I began my website in 2006 I knew little about the whole website designing business. And I’m a little proud of the fact that I still know just as little today after three years of the site being in existence. As I’m sure the more web educated among us have just clicked to another blog about something technical, it’ll just leave us normal folks here for this blog. Whew. You see I looked online for all the web designing websites and programs and found one that was basically “web designs for dummies” (It’s web.com in case anyone is interested). Of course I did manage to make things sparkle a bit more than the regular templates suggest as a way to add that little something extra to my site. So when I got my “Don’t Get Me Started” blog on my site it said that it had an “RSS” feed option I added it without really ever knowing what it meant. But lately I sort of figured out what to do with that whole RSS feed and all I know is that RSS feeds – they’re just magic, that’s all – Don’t Get Me Started!

You see, I use Internet Explorer and I also have Google as my home page. Now I love the fact that recently Google has made it possible to have your home page designed by a world class designer. That’s right, imagine the leopard fur from Dolce Gabbana as the backdrop to all the “stuff” that you can add to your homepage. It’s completely customizable and they call it “iGoogle.” You can add really important stuff, you know, like your daily horoscope, art of the day and the headlines from People magazine (I’ll admit that I also have CNN, MSNBC and NPR headlines on there too). Now on a side note, is the whole “i” before everything getting on anyone else’s nerves but me? I get that the Ipod changed everyone’s life as we know it but come on copycatters can’t we just let Apple have their lowercase “i” or is the entire world desperate for attention in an e.e. cummings kind of lowercase way? It’s like the whole “green” thing. Everything has to be “green” now. I don’t get it, I know we’re supposed to be environmentally conscious but to tell the truth I’ve never looked good in green and I gotta go with my pal Kermit on this one that “it ain’t easy being green.” But I digress.

So along with the latest Internet Explorer and one of the “stuff” things you can add to your iGoogle is an RSS feed. I know what it does, I just don’t know how it works and to be honest, I don’t want to know. It’s sort of like figuring out who the tooth fairy is, how they get Peter Pan to fly and finding out that Larry King is completely animatronics at this point (oops). On sites and blogs (like mine) that have the RSS feed, you can actually store this in your favorites or put it on your iGoogle homepage and when there’s a new post, voila! It magically appears on your homepage automatically. (Well at least from my standpoint)

So, if you all ready have RSS feeds on your homepage, website or whatever, it’s time to add one more. That’s right, all of this admitting how stupid I am is really just the big lead up for me to give you the RSS feed to my Don’t Get Me Started blog. Ready kids? http://www.somelikeitscott.com/blog_rss.xml

Don’t delay, add it today, and you will get all the latest Don’t Get Me Started blogs direct to your site or homepage. Is there anything better than that? I think not! (or should that be “i” think not?) Whatever! RSS Feeds – They’re just magic, that’s all – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/RSS-Feeds--Theyre-Just-Magic--Thats-All

Fat Or Fit Is Anyone A Medium Anymore? – Don’t Get Me Started!

A friend of mine owns a dance studio and she recently had her recital. She does one every other year (as anyone who has ever done one of these knows, they are major undertakings so to do one every year would basically mean that you’re mentally ill. Well, this year’s recital was yet another resounding success however my pal’s biggest complaint was that the gals are all just so big anymore. (Yes, not every dancer looks like the So You Think You Can Dance dancers folks. I spent many a day teaching dance to fat four year olds in tutus back in the day.) But back to the show, apparently some of these gals were so big that one of the other children who came to the recital described the number they did from the new Broadway musical, “The Little Mermaid” as “You know, that dance where the…um…well, I guess, the whale was on the rock?” And so it once again began me thinking, where ARE all the mediums in the world? I go to the gym and see really heavy people or really fit people but are these the only two categories anymore? Fat or fit is anyone a medium anymore? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I get why we’re fat as Americans due to things like fast food, corn syrup in everything we eat and the glug, glug sized drinks everyone is walking around gulping big on but mostly I think it’s because misery truly loves company. Why do you think that young girls are walking around wearing what become crop tops on them due to their fattitude with their “muffin tops” spilling over their jeans? It’s not just because Hillary Duff (at three pounds) is wearing those kinds of shirts it’s because somewhere along the way, all their heavy friends starting wearing them and we as a society have become desensitized to it. (Well, some of us. I still look at these people with a bit of shock and more than a little dismay) My theory is that yes, indeed we would jump off a bridge if so-and-so did it. Thus, it’s okay to be fat and showing it off because after all, everyone else is doing it.

On the other side of the spectrum are the people who put whey (yes, spelled correctly from my perspective) too much into their pumping up, shaping and not eating carbs selves to the point where they look as if someone has given them Popeye blow up arms yet they don’t have the strength to open a jar of pickles (mostly because their arms are so pumped up they can barely get them to come together – note: pickles, not sweet ones, are actually negative calories as your body actually burns calories as they’re digesting them – please don’t ask me how I know this kind of useless information). The thing is that all of these muscle people are a bit scary too with everything being so large the other way that they can’t fit their calves into a normal pair of jeans. Or what about the really toned people who walk around with no body fat to the point where they look as though they’re auditioning for The Bodies exhibit? (the one where they took dead people and skinned ‘em alive and call it art – it really is kids, I saw this exhibit and it’s amazing)

So back to the original question, where are the medium people? And I’m not talking about the cheaters who have had their doctor place a ponytail holder around their small intestine or some other organ to stop them from being able to eat more than 3 ounces of chicken at a time. I know there must be some mediums out there but more often than not, when I go to buy clothes it’s either the small sizes or the large sizes that are taken up anymore with plenty of mediums to go around. I guess that’s a good thing considering I used to be a small but now that I’ve done my own fair share of eating and experiencing middle aged spread I’m definitely a medium so it works out for me I guess. But I urge you to look around and instead of asking where have all the flowers gone, ask yourself where have all the mediums gone (And I’m not talking about Miss Cleo). Fat or fit is anyone a medium anymore? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Fat-Or-Fit-Is-Anyone-A-Medium-Anymore

I’m Aggrieved That The McGreevey’s Are Back In The News! – Don’t Get Me Started!

They both lived in the Governor’s mansion, they both had book deals, they were both on Oprah but now they’re both back in the news and I for one have had enough. The long suffering wife of the gay governor told her tale of ignorance and being supposedly duped all the while trying to sell her story to the book buying public. It didn’t work. While Jimmy got himself a rich boyfriend, joined the seminary and tried to sell his own book. It didn’t work either. Now they’re both back in the news trying to finalize their financial ties together while both claiming poverty. Whatever. I’m aggrieved that the McGreevey’s are back in the news! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I had a little bit of sympathy for the wife when the whole thing came across every newspaper and website but as far as Jim goes, I always thought he was a little more McCreepy than McGreevey (Read that blog on hubpages here - http://hubpages.com/hub/McGreevey_Seems_A_Little_McCreepy_To_Me). To be honest, as a gay man I was more than embarrassed about the whole thing. I get it, there are a lot of gay men out there who realize (from a conscious perspective – because I think that sub consciously they know much earlier, big time) that they’re gay later in life. Or they just decide that they can finally come out, or they’re forced out by a Perez Hilton or an ex that wants money, fame or both but have a little class, will ya?

The way that Jim McGreevey conducted himself was absolutely gross. All that coverage of him at his sprawling estate, sipping tea with his big business lover while Dina McGreevey cried and tried desperately to get everyone to believe she was a victim. Yes, she was a victim, of her own stupidity and believing in a fantasy that frankly she should have known better about too. I don’t believe that she had “no idea” that he was gay. I think she wanted the governor’s mansion as much as he did and while they may never have come out and spoken about it, a dirty deal was made between them to get them both what they wanted.

So now they’re in court and while Dina begs for money for maids, cooks and security, Jim is telling the world that he really can’t get a job, that’s he’s all ready borrowed $200,000 from his lover (we should all have such lovers) and that he basically has no money to give her. Dina’s lawyers are playing the angle that even Nixon made money on the tour circuit after his impeachment so McGreevey should get on that train but McGreevey claims the notoriety he’s gotten from this whole scandal has made him worthless. (Well, for some of us he was worthless way before now)

I for one love one aspect of this whole case. You see, if gay marriage was legal then Dina’s lawyers just might have a little something more to go on…they could go after Jim’s husband’s money but the knife doesn’t cut both ways so guess what straight people? Welcome to our world. That’s right, all that money and no way to get her hands on it. Hmmm. That’s what it feels like for us gays who have been in relationships forever who pay higher taxes and get none of the rights associated with marriage as our straight counterparts. We see all that the straight people are entitled to with marriage and no matter how close we get to touching it, the Christians and old white men who run the government will always do whatever they can to keep it just out of our grasp. So I suggest that Dina get in touch with the organizations that raise so much money to work against gay marriage or rights for gays. Maybe they would like to have her as their poster child. Maybe they would like to foot the bill for her maids, cooks and security. As far as Jim goes, I really think he’s just scum. I can’t imagine him being able to give great lectures to young gays to inspire them to live their true selves. What could he possibly impart? How to be a sleazy politician and how to model your personal life after the same sleaziness? He can’t teach anyone anything. Let him join the seminary, in my opinion they’re perfect for one another. And while they both cry broke (even though they’ve both managed to be on Oprah, get book advances – even though the books didn’t sell) I suggest they do what the rest of us do, which is go get a job and stop the whining. I’m aggrieved that the McGreevey’s are back in the news! – Don’t Get Me Started!

 Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Im-Aggrieved-That-The-McGreeveys-Are-Back-In-The-News

For those of you who may have found this blog by a search engine due to the topic or some other means, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into. You see, I’m a short Jewish gay man who has been with a six foot black man for almost two decades now so continue reading at your own risk. Having said that I’m sure it will come as no surprise to any of you that I have never blogged about a single Asian woman or women. I suppose since I’ve been blogging recently about gay marriage that perhaps the Google spybots just picked up the word, “marriage” and thought, “Kick ass, this would be a great place to place that ad for those Asian chicks that want to get hitched!” (Okay, so maybe the computer spybot that works for Google doesn’t talk that way but in my mind he/she does)

I get that nothing in life can be perfect and even though we’ve allowed computers to do all our thinking for us that at times they can be imperfect as well. But it does make one laugh to see what words the computer picks up and thus uses to determine what ads to place on your site. Come to think of it there seem to be a lot of ads on my site recently for singles. There’s one for “Cowboy Singles” which I’m pretty sure is for single women looking for the cowboy of their dreams that just started appearing as well as the constant one for the “Real Jock” website which has some fitness advice on it but is mainly about the shirtless boys in their ads and how boys can get one of those boys for themselves. Not that I mind having the pretty boys as eye candy on my site mind you but as I’ve been with the same person for a thousand years and no matter what the laws say, I’m as married as they get (which I also write about often on my site). The only singles ads that haven’t shown up yet are the Christian Singles but I have a feeling that even the AdSense computer has sense enough to not place those on my site.

So while I’m sure there are people out there who are making a fortune from the Google gang, I’m here to tell you what no one else seems to want to tell you. That is that sure, you can make money off Google AdSense, provided that the ads they place on your site is something that people want to click on. But now that I think of it, who wouldn’t want to click on a male prostitute ad? Hmmm, I guess male prostitutes don’t use Google to advertise, they can do it free on Craig’s List (unfortunately for some, that’s probably the only thing that they do for free.) Does Google AdSense make sense? If so, what are those ads for single Asian Women doing on my website? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Comment on this blog at...
http://hubpages.com/hub/Does-Google-AdSense-Make-Sense-If-So--What-Are-Those-Ads-for-Single-Asian-Women-Doing-On-My-Website

Philly Shows What Brotherly Love Is All About By Showing The Boy Scouts The Door – Don’t Get Me Started!

While the rest of the country watched the democrats duke it out today I found myself drawn to a small story on NPR (National Public Radio) online that piqued my interest for a few reasons, 1) I was born in Philadelphia, 2) I was kicked out of the Cub Scouts (long before their ban on gays) and 3) And I’m a gay man who couldn’t teach the Scouts how to scout even if I could make a fire with bark and my teeth.  So when I read the following news story, it made me gay (in every sense of the word). Philly shows what brotherly love is all about by showing the Boy Scouts the door – Don’t Get Me Started!

Here’s the original story in its entirety:

Philly Plans to Evict Boy Scouts for Policy on Gays

by Joel Rose

All Things Considered, June 3, 2008 · This week, the city of Philadelphia begins formally evicting the local Boy Scouts of America chapter from the building it has occupied rent-free for 80 years.

The city had given the local chapter until May 31 to defy the national Scouts policy against admitting gay members or start paying $200,000 a year in rent. Instead, the Scouts filed a federal lawsuit last week claiming the city is singling out the group for punishment, in violation of its First Amendment rights.

And now we’re back to Some Like It Scott

Now I think the Scouts are great for a lot of reasons but when they chose to have ignorance, intolerance and hate as their values by getting rid of gay scout masters for fear they would “recruit” young men into gayness, they lost me (and not just because I’m gay). You see, when I was in scouting there seemed to be a lot or lessons about navigation. Sure there was the standard how to read a compass kind of lessons but there was also navigation about the principals which were supposed to guide you in living your life; kindness, compassion and above all being a gentlemen. But I’ve seen a lot of hate in my lifetime and it’s almost always delivered with a gentlemen’s smile as he’s stabbing you in the back.

As history and the front page of newspapers have shown, the Scouts have less to worry about gay scout masters than they do say child molesting priests. And isn’t it funny that the priests who violated children themselves hid behind gentlemanly smiles and their piety as they ruined lives too?