The Power Of The GBN (Gay Boy’s Network)

I’ve written before about the fact that if you want good guest service, get a gay (read that blog here… http://hubpages.com/hub/Need_Great_Guest_Service_Then_Get_A_Gay ) but now I’m going to share a secret with you that I’m sure some of you have suspected and I’m going to confirm. You see, we gays do more for other gays than the rest of the human race. Go ahead and call it discrimination because it is but I don’t care because I’ve got the power of the GBN (Gay Boy’s Network) – Don’t Get Me Started!

This is really the only time that being a little bit effeminate works for gays. While it’s normally a tell tale sign for those who persecute and attack gays as well as a repellent for gays who pride themselves on being “straight acting” and want nothing to do with anyone who doesn’t seem as though he would crush a beer can on his forehead and belch a lot, when an effeminate gay meets another effeminate gay there is a kinship you just can’t buy (that often comes with fringe benefits). As I’m writing this I am on a plane. I’m not flying first class (and let me just say that the people who are in first class have little to no class from what I can see but that’s a topic for another day) however I’m three rows behind them, behind the mesh curtain that looks like a cheap costume piece from a knight costume. Okay, back to the point. I went to the restroom in the world of first class and as I went into the restroom I nodded to greet the flight attendant who was servicing first class. Oh believe me when I say I had spotted him when I got on the plane. And while his dazzling diamond wedding band is firmly in place and I have one too, while there was nothing sexual between us there was eye contact and if eyes are truly the windows to our souls, he saw that I was listening to the Carpenters and I saw that he knew how to throw a throw pillow. As I exited the bathroom, there he was about to serve the people in first class whatever it is you serve them and as our eyes met again he said, “Can I get you any of this?” gesturing to the food and beverage of first class like a Price Is Right model. I declined but thanked him politely and went on my way. I have no doubt that I could have walked away with a cocktail or whatever I wanted gratis but let’s face it, the days of glamour and deliciousness on a plane have long since passed us all by. (Okay, so as I’m writing this, the flight attendant in question just came by to pick up garbage and pointed to my watch saying, “Nice watch” in an overly mouthed way as I have my ear buds in listening to Donna Summer – lest you think I’m the garbage he was trying to pick I’m perfectly coiffed and dressed today.)

The GBN doesn’t just work on planes or in person. There have been times when I needed to extend a stay at a hotel or even get a boarding pass printed and delivered and by merely calling the concierge desk and finding someone with a sibilant “s” the world of everything opened to me. It’s fabulous and it’s at the point where I don’t want to talk to anyone but a gay when it comes to needing something like service or a favor from a complete stranger.

Look, we gays have gotten the shaft (watch it boys) more than once when it comes to being able to get married, treated equally as our straight counterparts on a number of issues so why not take care of our own when we can? After all, I’m a Jew too and I can tell you that prior to the whole Bernie Madoff incident this was working for us Jews pretty damn well too. I’m sure the same can be said for other minorities as well. You see, you just have to be discriminated against once for it to be enough and you share a common bond. Why wouldn’t Jews make their own country clubs after being excluded and turned down by all white Christian ones in the 1950’s? I hate to quote Shakespeare again but like Shylock says, “If you strike us down will we not revenge?” We will. So don’t ask me to feel bad about getting a little preferential treatment from my other gays. We’ve each got a story to tell (whether we’re straight or gay) and when it comes to us gays it’s more than just the fact we’re good storytellers, we’ve really been through it kids so if we help one another to a free cocktail or a room upgrade just sit there straightees and be jealous as you are of our fashion sense. It’s good for you and better for us, it’s the power of the GBN (Gay Boy’s Network) – Don’t Get Me Started!

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When Pseudo Celebrities Cry Wolf – Don’t Get Me Started!

Khloe Kardashian is pregnant, oh wait, no she’s not. Jon Gosselin’s apartment was ransacked, oh wait, no it wasn’t. When pseudo celebrities cry wolf – Don’t Get Me Started!

It’s bound to happen and we have no one to blame but ourselves. After all, I watched Jon and Kate (pre and post separation) and I’ve even taken to watching a few episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians. Although these so called celebrities do things like host evenings at nightclubs, let’s face it, these people have no real talent nor are they really celebrities. So when ratings start to slip or even when there are just less paparazzi (which they go on and on about hating but begin to crave like a crack addict) is anyone really surprised that these pseudo celebs have to find new ways to get everyone’s attention? I for one am not.

Try as he might, now that the divorce is final from Kate, I have a feeling that old Jon boy is discovering what we all knew all along, A) He’s not interesting enough for anyone to care about when it comes to media coverage and B) he’s a douche. If he really wanted to do something for his children he would go get a job and try to get back some of that stuff called self worth instead of sucking off the media’s tit for nourishment and attention. Like most women Jon, that tit is drying up pal so it’s time to start feeding yourself, kiddo.

The Kardashians are amazing at their media savvy but perhaps it’s just Mama Rose (or in this case Kris) who is really keeping that circus in the spotlight. The problem is that the tone of their show is taking on a spoiled brat quality that is barely bearable in the six year olds on Toddlers and Tiaras, let alone in so-called adults. And while Bruce Jenner plays the long suffering seemingly doddering patriarch he’s just a poor man’s Ozzy Osborne in this role. They need to keep coming up with surprise weddings and Kris drugging her son by mistake with Viagra if they expect to keep anyone interested. But can you go lower than those two incidents? (That’s rhetorical, I’m sure they can go much lower)

The thing is that what we need to be showing kids is that these pseudo celebs are not what they should aspire to be because although Andy Warhol talked of everyone being famous for fifteen minutes, in the grand scheme of things, these people get about 3.5 seconds. Better you should stay in school and invent a cure for cancer. I know that it may not seem as glamorous at first but think about it this way, you’d be helping mankind AND your name will be remembered far longer than someone who was on a reality show. But perhaps that’s the problem right there. Perhaps we need to not wait until “Sully” makes a miraculous landing of a plane on the Hudson, maybe we need to start looking at the everyday heroes we have in our lives and making a bigger deal out of them than a reality star’s move to Miami.

I’d like to end this on a hopeful note but as I’m writing this there are episodes of a show called, “Jersey Shore” airing that take pseudo celebrities to a new all time low. We have a thirst as Americans that just can’t seem to be slaked when it comes to making people think they’re special just because they got on television. Maybe that’s why “Balloon Boy’s” parents thought it would work for them. Should we really throw them in jail or instead throw the “creative” teams at VH1 and MTV who come up with the ideas to create this crap programming in jail instead? After all, they are the dealers that serve up the “fame” crack and while it is true that you can turn the channel, we as a culture have become so addicted that it would be like asking a hoarder to stop hoarding without giving them a proper intervention and treatment. Instead of Celebrity Rehab, perhaps the pseudo celebrity Dr. Drew should help cure the American public’s unquenchable thirst for crap television? I know I’d watch for an hour a week if I thought it would get me off of watching say the Housewives of Atlanta or Find My Family! But he’s a dealer of sorts too so I doubt that will happen. So I guess we have to face the fact that when these pseudo celebs lose the spotlight they’re going to do all sorts of crazy things to get it back. Sort of makes me miss those simpler days when child actors became drug addicts, at least they were someone at some point. When pseudo celebrities cry wolf – Don’t Get Me Started!

I Know, You Didn’t Get To See Everyone You Should Have Seen Over The Holidays – Don’t Get Me Started!

Whether you travel to exotic locations such as I (okay, it’s Delaware but I had to at least try to make it sound thrilling) during the holidays or even stay home, we all share one thing in common. Unless everyone you know in the world comes to your home for the holidays there are going to be people you don’t see during the holidays. Never mind what you’re going to do with that four tea light candle holder you bought for them (which incidentally they’ll never use for anything but to re-gift to someone else) the point is that scheduling can be scary during the holidays and I’m here to tell you that now that they’re over, you shouldn’t feel guilty in the least if you didn’t see everyone you had intended to see, so you didn’t see that person you went to college with or that person you used to work with the point is, the holiday ship has sailed and I know, you didn’t get to see everyone you should have seen over the holidays – Don’t Get Me Started!

It happens to me every year. I travel to spend holidays with my spouse’s family (the great thing about being a gay couple is that we give fabulous gifts, the even better thing is that we’re an interfaith couple so we never have to make a “Sophie’s Choice” over where we spend holidays. Christmas with his family, Passover with mine, it’s freaking perfect). And because we lived for eleven years in the same city as his parents there are plenty of people we should be seeing when we’re there but when you have a week and everyone is busy seeing everyone they should be seeing, scheduling becomes key and what’s even more important is that your flexible enough to realize that most of what you schedule has about as much chance of coming true as people using their turn signals before they cut you off and get in front of you.

I was off one morning to get my coffee from a local coffee shop over the holidays to try and prepare myself for the fact that it was a day before Christmas and I still had much shopping to do let alone getting gift wrap and its trimmings. I was feeling a little overwhelmed with the day’s schedule when I heard a woman on her phone in the parking lot of the coffee place. In a tone that seemed as if it was getting higher and higher in pitch until most likely only dogs could hear her, I listened in, “Well, I wanted to see them too but you know what? If you want to go over to their house and see them without me maybe you should just do that. I don’t see how I’m going to get everything done that I thought I was going to get done. No, don’t try to put that on me, you know I told you last night that today was going to be tight in terms of schedule. I’m not going to allow you to make me crazier than I all ready am at this point. You want to go, go and no, I don’t know what time I’ll be back at the house. And don’t wait for me and then tell me you’ve been waiting for me to go. Look, I’ll go in this store and run that other errand and then I’ll call you, maybe I’ll meet you there but don’t forget about dinner tonight. Yes, that’s right, it’s my friends so there’s no way we’re missing that one. Look, all this time on the phone isn’t helping. Oh whatever, I’ll talk to you later.” And as she pushed the button to end the call she stared at the phone and said, “Fuck you!” I thought, “Wow it’s not just me, everyone is scheduled way too tight and it’s additional stress that none of us need.”

So for those “mountains” who sit on their ass in their home and the people wander in and out, you have the right idea. But for those of us who travel, we’re good and screwed. But here’s the thing, you just have to tell yourself that you’ll do what you can do to see as many people as you can without totally stressing yourself but I know, you didn’t get to see everyone you should have seen over the holidays – Don’t Get Me Started!

It’s Okay To Stop Exchanging Gifts – Don’t Get Me Started!

My parents, brother and sister-in-law and my spouse and I decided about four years ago to only buy gifts for the children at the holidays and no longer exchange gifts amongst us what can only be described as “legally” adults. What we had been reduced to was the dreaded “list.” You know the one where you write down what you want and then when you open your gift you know exactly what it is? Is that even what gift giving is supposed to be? I think not. I would spend hours upon hours searching the Internet and stores for the perfect gift for the person I was buying for that would at the same time still have a little me in it. Then the list would come in the mail and I’d be disgusted. If you have been reduced to the list kind of gift giving, most likely the people writing the list feel awkward and hate it too so here it is, I’m giving you permission. It’s okay to stop exchanging gifts – Don’t Get Me Started!

I remember that after the list came into being in my family (largely due to all of us saying, “I don’t know what to get you. I’d rather get you something you really want so just put it on a list and you’ll be surprised when I don’t get you the most expensive thing on the list – well, not really.) For awhile we felt as though we were being a bit sneaky (talk about deluded) because my brother would give their list to my parents and then my parents would tell me what was on it. Is that sick or what? We actually thought this would somehow make it better that we had been reduced to “list givers.” So now, we give to the kids in the family and for the adults, whenever we see something that we think the other has to have, we buy it. Doesn’t matter if it’s Hanukkah or Halloween or Tuesday we just buy it and send it. So far, everyone seems happy with the arrangement.

The problem is broaching the subject, right? My suggestion would to be not to pussy foot around. I would just say, “You know how we always exchange gifts? I was thinking that maybe we should just spend some extra time together this year instead of the whole gift thing.” Don’t go on too much as to the whys and wherefores, “You know, my husband may lose his job and my shifts were cut down at work, blah, blah, blah” That may all be true but that’s not the real reason you’re stopping the gift giving so do yourself and your friend, family member, whomever a favor and keep it to a quick two sentences. If they agree, you’re off the hook. If they don’t, it’s time for a new friend. (Okay, sort of kidding)

My point is that unless your whole heart is in what you’re giving, it’s not really a great gift. I’ve always felt this way. I remember in school when we would all exchange names and buy the person we had a small gift. The good people got the book of Life Savers candy while schleps like me often got the Santa PEZ dispenser (which I know was wayyy below the limit set on the gift giving and certainly wasn’t roll after roll of Life Savers deliciousness including the beloved Butter Rum variety let alone the fact that I’m Jewish, what they couldn’t have gotten me the snowman instead?). If you’re simply grabbing crap off the shelves in a last minute ditch effort to get someone to like you at Christmas, Hanukkah or whatever you celebrate, chances are it’s a gift that will sooner than later find itself at Goodwill or be regifted. By the way, regifting is an art and a blog topic for another day.

The point is that the most precious thing any of us can give one another is time (sniff, one tear) but seriously. If you really want to give someone a gift, instead of giving them those reindeer mittens, give them an hour of time with your phone turned off. That’s right, no texting, no acting like you’re checking the time on your phone when you’re bored with their story so you can check emails, etc. Give someone a full hour of your undivided attention and chances are that’ll be something they enjoy and remember more than that glass vase you picked up at Marshalls at the last minute because you thought it looked more expensive than the $9.99 price tag (by the way, it doesn’t). So remain calm and give yourself as well as your friends a break. It’s okay to stop exchanging gifts – Don’t Get Me Started!

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The Most Important Gift You’ll Buy Your Kids This Holiday Season – Thank You Cards! – Don’t Get Me Started!

By most accounts, kids are in trouble today. We’ve created a society of people who feel that they’re special for no apparent reason. We have told kids they’re special since birth but never had them earn that title nor did they really have anything that they were particularly special at but we wanted to make sure that they had high self esteem. Well now we have a generation that thinks they’re “too good” for almost everything. For their first job they won’t work a minimum wage job because they’re “special.”They won’t do almost anything they don’t want to do because they think “special” people don’t have to. Well, I’m here to tell you that they all need a big kick in the ass and reality check. While kids (and teenagers, and twenty-somethings, etc.) feel that they are entitled to everything without doing anything one of the most basic of human interactions has ceased and I think it’s wrong. The thank you card, people. So here is my plea to all the parents out there who are running around trying to keep their children happy by getting them everything that’s on their list, lest their children be unhappy with them and no longer want to be their friend, I say the most important gift you’ll buy your kids this holiday season – Thank You Cards! – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I was younger I remember our mother sitting us down after a major holiday and we would have to start writing. We wrote to the aunt from Florida who gave us something we didn’t even remember ten minutes after it came out of the box. We wrote our grandparents who lived on the opposite coast. Anyone who gave us anything for a birthday, Hanukkah or any other reason got a thank you note from us. Although people tend to think that an email will do the trick in this electronic age (I have a friend whose husband ended the marriage via text, telling her to look at an email that stated that he was leaving her) some people don’t even make their kids do that and what is even more shocking is that when you confront the parents about it they’re offended that you think a thank you note is in order. What?!? Are you kidding me? You’re offended? Another reason I feel my age and realize that people are just stupid and raising stupid children.

As my spouse used to say to our nephews when they were younger, “Even if you don’t like the gift, have the savvy to thank someone for it properly so that you’ll increase your chances to get another gift from them and maybe it’ll be something you like.” The problem is that we’re all supposed to keep giving regardless of whether our gift gets acknowledged or not. Well I choose not…not to give that is. In this day and age when we’re all sending gifts through the Internet, you would think that it would be even more reason for parents to have their kids write thank you notes. You see once you hit “purchase” unless you want to spend all your time tracking it online you really have no idea if the gift got the proper person or not. But guess what? That’s still not the reason for your kids to write thank you notes. The reason kids should write thank you notes is as follows:

-          It lets kids know that they need to appreciate gifts and the people who give them to them

-          Nothing in life is free and a gift isn’t either, it requires a thank you note as payment

-          Acknowledging a kindness teaches all of us not to take anyone or anything for granted

-          Respect, if someone takes the time to give you a gift, respect them enough to send them a note

There are dozens of reasons to send a thank you note and none to not send a thank you note. I just think that parents get so caught up in defending their children’s actions and putting them on a pedestal that they’ve forgotten that there’s more to parenting than telling a relative what they’re to get for their child and then making an excuse when you never hear from them after the gift is received. Or is it? The most important gift you’ll buy your kids this holiday season – Thank You Cards! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Don’t Save Anything For A Special Occasion – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know this is something that we all know but the thing is that how often do we really do something about it? After all, we could get hit by a bus or we could go up three sizes so saving that shirt, pair of pants, bottle of champagne or anything else is just not a good idea. Don’t save anything for a special occasion – Don’t Get Me Started!

This dawned on me in a typical Some Like It Scott way, not in an Oprah “light bulb” moment. No one died to make me realize this, it happened in the most ordinary way. I was getting ready for work and I noticed that all of my usual shirts were at the dry cleaners. I looked toward the back of my closet and there it was; a white shirt with some tone on tone embroidery, a Prada masterpiece. At first I thought, I love this shirt, I can’t wear it for work. I need to wear it for a special occasion. And then I tried to think about the last “special occasion” I experienced that made me want to wear one of my many “special occasion” shirts. I couldn’t remember one. That’s right, there isn’t just one Prada waiting for a night on the town, there’s a couple of them and a couple Etro and Tom Ford shirts too. And so as my hand trembled I took the shirt out of the closet. Then it dawned on me, had I forgotten? Was I not wearing this shirt because it no longer fit or because I was saving it for a special occasion? I honestly couldn’t remember but as I slipped it on the question was answered. It fit perfect and it felt great, I felt great and I suddenly realized how stupid I had been all along.

Now if you buy something special for a holiday party or something I get that you’re waiting for New Year’s Eve to wear that sequined thing (that you probably shouldn’t be wearing anyway but as long as you’re enjoying yourself and feel good about yourself, go ahead, we’ll just talk about you when you leave the room as we normally do) I understand saving something for a special occasion if this is the case or if you’re getting married or something. But I’m talking about all of the stuff that stays in your closet, wine rack, etc. Stuff that you all ready have and probably have worn once or thought of drinking once but stopped yourself thinking that there had to be a special occasion to enjoy it. This is just another mental game we play with ourselves that in the end really doesn’t make any sense. Like starting a diet next Monday when it’s Tuesday, go ahead and push the chips and dips away and start the diet now. The same applies for the other stuff that you have in your home that you have decided is too special for you to have unless there’s a special occasion. Screw it, start realizing that you are worth “special” things every day. Stop waiting for what you can have today because it’s right there, you’re just denying yourself because like me, you’re a moron. So start today, start wearing and using all the stuff that you don’t think you deserve unless there’s a special occasion. You do deserve it and remember don’t save anything for a special occasion – Don’t Get Me Started!

Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince On DVD (which means, Dark Video Dark) – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’m not embarrassed to say that I read all of the Harry Potter books. What started out as a quick read while on business trips quickly began a thirst as I’ve never had before (well, not since the Hardy Boys or Nancy Drew). Although the later books became much too large to take on quick business trips (I read the final one in one weekend with nothing by my side but some water and a box of thin mint Girl Scout cookies). I’ve also seen all of the Harry Potter movies and what I discovered was that the same way I felt about the books (Loved book one, didn’t care for book two, etc.) is the same way I felt about the movies. But when the Half-Blood Prince came out on DVD although I didn’t really care for the book as it felt like it was just one big setup for the final book, I decided I should get it because although I went to the theatre to see it, I really didn’t remember much about the movie version. Only after watching at home did I discover why I didn’t remember much about it, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on DVD (which means, dark video dark) – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’m not talking about the storyline when I talk about the movie being “dark.” I’m talking about the actual film. As I sat in front of my television first squinting and finally just giving up and making pretend I lived during the heyday of radio, because it was like watching a radio show, I realized the reason I couldn’t remember much about the movie from the theatre was that I couldn’t see all of it there either due to the dark lighting/cinematography. You could hear something going on but there was nothing but a black screen on my television. I get being artistic but this just seems like artistic masturbation (you know, where no one but the person who creates it is getting anything out of it). What amazes me is that studios let films like this out of their hands before correcting what seems to be a fundamental flaw.

What is the point of the set and costume designers busting their butt when their work won’t be seen? If you think I’m exaggerating I suggest you rent a copy of this movie (don’t buy it unless you want to be as frustrated as I am at owning something I’ll never try to watch again and trying to figure out how to re-shrink wrap it to give it to someone else for the holildays). I’m not talking a little dark I’m talking sometimes more than two minutes of black screen with voices. Perhaps it’s a new cinema style that is allowing us to imagine what is going on but I doubt it.

The thing that filmmakers need to remember is that unless someone can actually see their vision, it’s  a bit like a tree falling in a forest when no one’s there, who the fuck cares if it makes a noise or not? That’s exactly how I feel about this movie, the many dark sections tainted the rest of the movie for me as well because just as I was getting into what was going on, the screen would go black and I’d roll my eyes waiting for a scene that was outside in the snow hoping that the whiteness of the snow would reflect enough light for me to see the scene. When you pay $10.50 for the movie at the theatre and $19.99 for the home version I don’t think it’s asking too much to be able to actually see the movie, do you? Well, obviously the gang responsible for the latest Harry Potter don’t feel the same way. And financially speaking, I guess they don’t care since they got my money both in the theatre and on the DVD so they’ve made their money but come on, wouldn’t it be nice to actually let someone see something? Oh I’ll see the other two movies when they come out but if they’re as dark as this current one, they can count me out on buying the DVD. Maybe they should just save their money and release the audio book instead of going to the expense of filming a movie so dark that no one can see it? Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince on DVD (which means, dark video dark) – Don’t Get Me Started!

I Fell Asleep Before I Could Have The Ambien Sex – Don’t Get Me Started!

I don’t know why but I was sort of excited when I heard that Tiger Woods was having sex under the influence of Ambien, mostly because I had it in my cabinet at home and how often do you have “the” drug everyone’s talking about right at home all ready? Anyone who reads my blog knows that my mind is constantly running at several thousand miles a minute, the same can be said when I lay down at night. So on occasion I find the need to use a little something to try to quiet my mind and allow myself to actually get some rest instead of spending all night wondering why Barbara Walters and Barry Manilow are starting to look alike or what I’m going to eat tomorrow. So last night, I prepared myself for a new found amorous encounter and took the new drug/sex wonder pill but then I fell asleep before I could have Ambien sex – Don’t Get Me Started!

Now apparently I’m not doing it right because I guess I’m supposed to have Vicodin and some booze to mix with the Ambien. I’m awful in the kitchen and can’t make anything without referring to a recipe a thousand times during the process so if I was going to get into the drug induced sex craze I would need more than just some rumors from a tabloid, I would need a bona fide recipe dammit. And so it came to pass that there would be no coming, only going, to sleep that is in mere minutes after taking my Ambien.

Maybe it’s my tolerance level. I can get sloppy drunk on my second cocktail. I like to think that it’s my lack of body weight to soak up the hooch but since my last visit to my doctor included him telling me that I needed to lose some weight, I guess I can no longer use that excuse.  I am far from a light weight in a lot of aspects of my life but what I learned is that apparently when it comes to sleeping aids I am one.

The thing that really gets me is that I really don’t understand all of the drugs to have sex. To me, sex is one of the things in this world that feels better than anything so why you need drugs to “heighten” or make it better just seems a little greedy to me. I’m all for being an overachiever but it just seems as though you’re cheating if you have to have drugs or booze to have the sex, you know, like taking steroids to get your arms the size of a Buick and your balls the size of ball bearings. First of all, if it doesn’t feel great you’re not doing it right and using drugs isn’t going to help it feel better it will just make it easier to not remember how bad it was. Maybe that’s the key, maybe the whole Ambien sex is for the people who are bad in bed? Woo, I feel better about the whole thing now and the fact that I fell asleep before I could have the Ambien sex – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Believe It Or Not, I Don’t Care Who Tiger Woods Shtoops! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Although I’m sure that Jon and Kate are delighted that the media has turned all of their attention to Tiger Woods and whoever his foreign model wife is, believe it or not, I don’t care who Tiger Woods Shtoops! – Don’t Get Me Started!

For that matter I don’t care who’s “zooming” who (as the old Aretha song goes) when it comes to anyone. That includes my parents, people I know and don’t know. Did Tiger Woods become famous for his monogamy? Is that what he’s so great at that people call him a phenomenon? I think not. (And while we’re talking about it, I just think I could easily win that prize – a gay man who has been in a monogamous relationship for 21 years, the rest of you are just amateurs as far as I’m concerned) My point is that on the whole we here in America are waaay to hung up on sex. We’re worried that the kids are having it and that when we get old we’re worried we won’t be able to get it up to get enough of it. We don’t want to see Janet Jackson’s boob flash or have the sequined dancers on Dancing With The Stars dance too sexy for fear that “the kids” will be influenced. Meanwhile, they’ve all ready been influenced by Britney Spears showing her “business district” and Miley humping a pole on the Teen Choice Awards and her recent tattoo. If parents would do a little parenting instead of talking on their cell phones while driving their kids from one play date to a soccer game, taking the time to talk to their kids and teach them what’s right and wrong, maybe we wouldn’t worry so much about what the celebrities are doing and their influence?

Tiger Woods plays golf and although he does it very well, just because he’s a public figure it doesn’t make him a role model for anything but playing golf, in my opinion. And explain to me why we want our kids to look at celebrities for their role models anyway? Take them to a homeless shelter to meet the people who work there, those people are worthy of being role models, not some rapper who made billions by rhyming “bitch” with “itch” while a 70’s song that we really liked plays in the background. We’re all out of whack in our idolatry of celebrities and expecting them to be role models. They’re people, people. People just like you, who either possess a great skill or management/marketing team, period. They aren’t Gods (maybe that’s why they all take steroids, so that they can feel more like Gods), they aren’t Mother Teresa, they’re just people who are very good at one thing or another. And didn’t we learn our lesson from the whole Paris Hilton thing? (Someone who becomes famous for the sake of fame possessing no real skills or redeeming qualities whatsoever) I was hoping that with Paris and Heidi and Spencer that we would have finally reached the proverbial bottom of the barrel and start looking for people who are worthy of our attention again, you know like the next Einstein or something. I’m still holding out hope but for the moment, apparently Tiger Woods’ wood and who’s holding it is all that anyone seems to want to talk about.  Believe it or not, I don’t care who Tiger Woods Shtoops! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Can You Sustain A Real Friendship By Just Poking Someone On Facebook? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Before I begin I shall admit my own guilt in this matter. I’m guilty (though not for the usual reason of my Jewish guilt gnawing away at my soul). I’m guilty of rather than picking up a phone and talking to some of my honest to goodness friends, I’ve found that simply “poking” them on Facebook makes me feel less guilty about not being in touch with them. But can you sustain a real friendship by just poking someone on Facebook? – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I first got poked (kids, minds out of the gutter please) I thought it was cute. You know a sort, “What up?” “How are you?” kind of thing when I signed on to my Facebook account. I still feel that way when I get a poke from say the person who sat behind me in ninth grade algebra and who I haven’t seen since 1983 when I graduated. But what I discovered was that the whole poking thing didn’t just happen with semi-friends or “used to be” friends, it started happening more and more between me and my real friends. The friends I used to email with or actually talk to on the phone. Slowly they became poker friends and I’m mourning the loss. (Why did I write it like that? Now I’ll have Lady GaGa in my head for the next three days…p-p-p-p-p-pokerface! ARGH)

I know that a lot of people pride themselves on having something like 300+ (and in some cases 3,000+) friends on their Facebook page. I also know that there is no way that the 300+ can actually be friends as I define it (someone who would take care of you – that’s right, that’s my rather broad definition but think about it and see if you don’t agree. If someone who sat behind me in class in 1982 was ill or died in a horrible crash, I would donate money or bring a meal to their family. But if one of my true friends is ill, I’m the Jewish mother they wish they had or wish they didn’t have. And should they ever meet a horrible death I would not only take care to make sure all the arrangements were made properly for their funeral, I would care for their children, partner or parents or whoever the case may be for them because I know they would do the same for me, that makes someone a true friend in my opinion. A true friend is also someone you never have to say, “Don’t repeat this to anyone.” They “take care of you” by knowing that anything between the two of you is exactly that, between just the two of you.) So for the most part I think Facebook is mostly filled with acquaintances more than friends and that’s fine. Of course then you have to ask yourself why so many people feel acquaintances or electronic friends need to know what they’re doing every moment of every day by updating their status or having a Twitter account. (If you’re someone who continually writes about how busy you are, you fall into my category of people who aren’t busy enough. If you have time to write in a list of things that are making you busy and expect me to read it and give you sympathy you’re mistaken. I would wonder why you didn’t spend your time getting something done instead of taking time out of your day to post about it on Facebook.) But I digress.

When I sign onto Facebook now and see a poking from a good friend it brings a smile to my face but it also makes me more than a little sad. I wonder why we haven’t spoken in so long or why we haven’t emailed and then with a little sadness I realize that at least we’re still in each other’s lives (if only by poking) so I click to poke them back and I hope that they realize that the poke I’m sending is not just a slap on the back or fist under their chin but that it’s a hug and a miniscule gesture to let them know how very much I love them. Is it enough? Absolutely not. So pals, start picking up the phone and I will too. Because I know, you can’t sustain a real friendship by just poking someone on Facebook? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Winter Gloves Could Kill You – Don’t Get Me Started!

I grew up in Arizona, where honestly winter gloves were much more of a fashion statement than a necessity. And although I lived on the east coast for many years, I have always just sort of “toughed it out” when it comes to my hands and winter in Las Vegas. This is stupid. It gets cold here, really cold here. And while some morons still like to prance about in their shorts, as I said, they’re morons so you shouldn’t do the same thing they do whether it be for your legs or your hands, right? But over the years of living in Las Vegas, all the stuff I used to know about cold weather dressing has gone out the window. That needs to change. As we will barely see above the 50 degree mark here in Vegas this week, I was forced to dig out the winter coat and gloves this morning. And not only did I not miss feeling as though I weigh an extra forty pounds from all of the overcoating, I discovered that winter gloves could kill you – Don’t Get Me Started!

Now for those of you who live in really cold climates all the time, my knit hat is off to you (not that I’d ever wear a knit hat because a) they don’t look good on me, the only hat I ever looked good in was Mouseketeer ears and b) you really think I’m going to mess up my hair for warmth or a hat? I don’t have the good kind of hair that can take being under a hat. If you put a hat on my head, my hair instantly molds to that shape and no matter for how short a period of time you’ve had it on, the rest of the day you walk around with people wondering why you’re not wearing the hat that your hair is molded to fit. I know some people say that you just have to keep layering but the more I layer the more I feel as though I’m getting ready for a moonwalk instead of going to work.

When I lived on the east coast I would always take my coat off before I got in the car and then replace it upon exit. You see I despise the whole Michelin man feel when I’m behind the wheel. You know, your arms are jutting out almost directly from your shoulders and your grasp on the steering wheel is the only thing that lets you know you still have feeling in some part of your body to be able to grasp the wheel. But this morning here in not so sunny Las Vegas it’s just too damn cold for all of that, I was about to enter a Mini Cooper refrigerator so coats and gloves remained in place.

I am not a tall person and my body is (with the exception of my middle) completely proportioned so it’s always difficult for me to find things like shoes and gloves that fit. While designers have started to make shoes in kids’ sizes that look exactly like their adult counterparts (and sometimes at almost half the price), I’ve found it easier to get shoes but when it comes to gloves you’ve either got the kind that have a cartoon on it, mittens or women’s gloves that are so tapered at the end of each finger that it gives the appearance you have a full set of Barbara Streisand nails under them, none being a very good option for me. So I finally found a pair of men’s leather gloves that fit pretty good but there’s still some room at the end of the fingers so when you go to get your keys or do anything in the least bit intricate, there you are with your one glove in your mouth while the naked hand tries to do the job of both of them. With only a stop at the grocery store and the gas station this morning I must have taken at least one of my gloves on and off eight times. But where I really got in trouble was when I tried to use my iPhone. Never mind the fact that I couldn’t use the on screen keyboard at all without touching almost every letter of the alphabet instead of just one, I went to turn the volume up on the side of it and must have been overcompensating for lack of feeling due to the gloves when the iPhone slipped from my grasp and hit me in the eye. Were my hands warmer as a result of it, you bet but now my eye hurts. Winter gloves can kill you – Don’t Get Me Started!

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The Truth About Car Air Fresheners – Don’t Get Me Started!

My car smells like someone killed a Cherry Slurpee in it. Whenever I get my car washed I’m always so good about remembering to tell them not to put any scent in the vehicle. I don’t want it to smell like imitation “new car” and I don’t want it to smell like a pine tree. True, I don’t want it to smell badly but as I keep my car clean as a whistle inside there’s really no chance of that happening. That was until I let the guy who comes to the office buildings to wash people’s cars get a hold of my vehicle. The truth about car air fresheners – Don’t Get Me Started!

The truth is that there is no good air freshener for your car, shut up, no there is not. And now that I’ve been asphyxiated by something that smells like a rotten cherry apple in a dumpster behind the carnival motor home it was made in (don’t ask me how I know) all I can do is ride around (in cold weather) with the sunroof and windows open hoping for the dissipation of the ungodly smell.

Smells are really so personal aren’t they? I remember when the pheromone scents came out. They were supposed to work with your natural chemistry to create a one of a kind smell and send it out to attack the opposite sex like Pepe Le Pew stalking the seven hundredth black female cat who accidentally had a white stripe painted down her, making him think she was skunk. But don’t we all know we all smell different without the cologne? I mean, if you blindfolded me I could smell my guy out of a crowd of other guys and I doubt that it’s just that my sense of smell is as good as Barbara Streisand’s is supposed to be in the movie The Main Event (love the song, love the movie, know I shouldn’t and don’t really care). My point is that on the whole the way someone or something smells is really personal to me so when absolutely everyone with hairy arm pits (men and women) were wearing patchouli or going through their vanilla stage, smelling like a batch of uncooked toll house cookies, my eyes were constantly rolling. I try to always wear a scent that not a lot of people are wearing and one that just has a nice clean smell but there are still people who douse themselves with too much Polo or Drakkar who should just be shot.

I’ve tried the Yankee Candle car fresheners and almost puked. Frankly I’m amazed to see all the different products you can get for smelling up your car. It’s such a small confined space that it seems as though no matter what you put in it would be overkill. Can someone explain to me the fresheners that clip on your vents or have little fans on them? Is this an industry where people are sitting in the lab trying to figure out just how much “ocean mist” to put in and how many blades the mini fan needs to have on it to smell your car up just the right amount to cover up the smell of your farts but not so much that as you drive down the street you have cartoon green smelly lines emanating from it? And if your car really smells that bad, might I suggest you remove the old fast food bags from under the seats or get rid of whatever it is that is smelling it up so badly as a start? I don’t care what anyone says or how they name it (and who comes up with these name? Linen Fresh, Punkin Pie, Midnight At The Oasis, etc.) they’re all crap and that’s the truth about car air fresheners – Don’t Get Me Started!

It’s Okay To Be Shallow As Long As You Occasionally Swim With The Adults In The Deep End – Don’t Get Me Started!

During a recent correspondence with my pen pal from Australia, Arrigo we were discussing whether or not it was a bad thing to be shallow. He gave me several examples of reasons he felt as though he could very possibly be shallow but as I wrote back to him, it’s okay to be shallow as long as you occasionally swim with the adults in the deep end – Don’t Get Me Started!

Here were some of Arrigo’s examples (which I thought were fabulous):

You see, I think we all have moments of acting shallow and I think we need to embrace that because if we weren’t somewhat shallow we wouldn’t realize that our guts are covering up where our abs should be, right? But we can’t be shallow all the time because then we wouldn’t really be deserving of being on the planet with anyone else. Hey, I’m all about swimming in the kiddie end of the pool and splashing but you can’t live in the shallow end every moment of your life. Sometimes you need to be an adult, show you care for the people you know and don’t know who are struggling to keep a roof over their heads and/or find their next meal or just have a real conversation with someone. It’s all about balance and sometimes I can go from the shallow end to the deep end and back faster than Michael Phelps, the important thing is to keep on swimming and remember it’s okay to be shallow as long as you occasionally swim with the adults in the deep end – Don’t Get Me Started!

When You’re Gay You Just Can’t Wear As Many Bracelets As Jermaine Jackson – Don’t Get Me Started!

At first when I started seeing Jermaine Jackson on every Larry King episode after the death of his brother Michael Jackson I was amazed that the family who was raised on media before they could even chew solid food (well, you must admit that Michael probably hadn’t seen solid food in years based on his appearance) but you know what I mean about the Jacksons being very sophisticated when it comes to the media. Here was Jermaine speaking for the family and he seemed to be the dullest of the shining stars that were the Jacksons. He could barely put three sentences together and every sentence ended with him saying that his brother was the most important person in the world. It was disturbing on many levels but one of the things that annoyed me the most was the six million bracelets he was always seen wearing (which no doubt got caught on the rhinestones of the faux Michael white glove he wore on way too many occasions). And yet, on Jermaine the bracelets seemed to work. I think I was bitter because when you’re gay you just can’t wear as many bracelets as Jermaine Jackson – Don’t Get Me Started!

Now before you all start going off on me that I’m being too judgmental just know that I’m speaking from personal experience. Sure, if you want to be a stereotype you can go ahead and wear all the bracelets you want but let’s face it, if you’re the least bit effeminate you just can’t wear a bunch of bracelets without embarrassing yourself and the gay community at large. Sure there was awhile when we could sort of get away with it because the bracelets were rubber and for causes like cancer so they didn’t jingle and jangle but for the most part gays, we just can’t do it.

However there are exceptions. Not that I know for a fact or am saying that he is gay (eyebrow raised) but Bob the trainer from Biggest Loser is another lots of bracelets wearer and for him it seems to be okay. He does seem more than a little bit effeminate but you seem to not be sure if it’s gay or just a southern accent. I say good for him that he can wear a zillion bracelets and carry it off and although I wish I was anywhere close to his body fat ratio I do worry when he gets too thin and wears his hair too short that he just looks like a skull someone should be studying in an anatomy class. But I digress.

I think it’s a very cool look when guys wear a lot of bracelets (I guess I should be calling them, “cuffs” right cause that sounds a little more butch) and maybe I’m just not trying it with the right bracelets but I doubt it. You see, I have the wrists of a model (a ten year old girl model) so put more than one bracelet on me and I end up looking less like a rock star and more like Carmen Miranda, “South American Way!” So let’s just say that I won’t be wearing a lot of bracelets anytime soon but then again I also won’t be naming a child, Jermajesty either so maybe I have more sense than Jermaine all the way around. Still I can’t help but being a little jealous that when you’re gay you just can’t wear as many bracelets as Jermaine Jackson – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Advent For The Forty-Something Gay – Don’t Get Me Started!

Did you know that this past Sunday was Advent Sunday? Are you wondering what a Jewish man is doing writing about advent? God knows if I were you I’d be wondering. You see my advent has nothing to do with the big build up for the moment that God supposedly gave the world his son, no, I’m plotting and planning and getting ready to open each door on my own personal advent calendar hoping that behind each door is something I can really use like metabolism or the loss of a pound. That’s right for the next 25 days I’m going to work out, puke, and clean my colon out with kitchen cleanser if necessary in order to get down to a decent weight before seeing the people I see only once a year at the holidays. Welcome to advent for the forty-something gay – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve always been good at deadlines, always. But over the past few months I discovered that the one thing I’m really successful at in life  is my relationship with my guy. We have been together for over twenty-one years and guess what? I still adore the man and my heart goes pitter patter when I see him but if I don’t lose some of the weight I’ve put on over the last year I’m going to have everyone wondering why the hell he is still with me. Happiness is always the death to your abdomen region. While I have put on over twenty-five pounds since our meeting, he is a black man who remains in amazing shape and looks fabulous. I hate him. I have this fear that we’re eventually going to look like Sidney Poitier dating Jackie Mason. (If I’m really honest that moment may have all ready arrived)

The other day my male cat was sitting on my lap. He had his head on my stomach and his paws fell on either side of my stomach. He looked like he was holding a beach ball that was just a little too big for his grasp. Depressing doesn’t even begin to cover it. And so desperate times call for some desperate measures, it’s back to the gym, eating only green things (that will make my colon dance a quickstep in my own dancing with the shits) and listening to Karen Carpenter (in hopes that by listening to her music I’ll begin to look as thin as she did, you know, “bobble head thin” where you lose enough weight that your head looks too big for your body).

The thing is that as a gay man there’s a lot that’s expected of you. And although I’m definitely one of what I call the “garden variety gays” who has a spouse and two cats named after musical theatre characters so is not out to turn heads or date anyone else, there comes a time when you have to say to yourself that you’ve let yourself go and you need to get you and your ass back. So let the days tick away and with each one I’m going to get closer and closer to that day when I can go from only looking good in what the shepherds wore and rock that whole on the cross loin cloth look. Irreverent you bet and if there is a devil out there, my soul is the next item up for bids on the Price Is Right. Stay tuned, it’s only going to get worse I’m sure. Advent for the forty-something gay – Don’t Get Me Started!