But Sometimes Facebook Is A Good Thing – Don’t Get Me Started!

For the most part, ever since I joined Facebook I’ve been annoyed with it. As I wrote when I first joined, it seemed as though everyone I thought that I had gotten rid of in my life who I really didn’t ever want to chat with again had found me on Facebook.  (http://hubpages.com/hub/Facebook-Is-Bringing-Everyone-I-Got-Rid-Of-Back-Into-My-Life) Here I’d spent years getting rid of most of them and then all of sudden there they were in my inbox with their aged faces and their wanting to request my friendship all over again. I wondered why none of the “good” people who had fallen out of my life over the years were appearing in my inbox and then some did, and then they told two friends and so on and so on. I don’t know why Facebook has to have all of the crap that it does, Farmville, Mafia Wars, etc. I just know that from what I can see everyone is busy at these things instead of living their damn life. But sometimes Facebook is a good thing – Don’t Get Me Started!

If you’re reading this from a link on my “wall” then I want you to know that if you’re one of those people who are looking for an unmarked gun in Mafia Wars or someone to help you plow the back forty in Farmville, I will never assist you or add these things to my Facebook page. I think they’re stupid and the people who seem to have so much time to do these games just sort of make me think that perhaps although we’re one of the societies that spend more time at work, I suspect that we’re not really working all those hours as much as we’re looking to see if our new cow just had a calf. My point is that I find these things pointless however I’m sure those people who are heavily farmed would disagree and so be it.

That said, there are times when I log on and someone from my deep past (not to be confused with the deep south) has found me and while it’s usually just an email or two back and forth, I’m delighted to reconnect with them (sort of) in the world of not so social networking and to hear that they have seven kids and are married to a plumber. It does give you a sense of keeping in touch without really having to keep in touch so I get why it works for so many people. Recently I sent a friend request to someone I haven’t seen in thirty-five years. I remember at the time he was like a God to me, a few years my senior and who I wanted to be when I grew up. As I sent the friend request I felt sort of strange. Here I was an adult in his forties and yet I felt like I did at ten years old. Would he “accept” me as a friend? Would he accept me and then put me in a category that was completely censored from seeing anything on his wall (as I’ve learned to do with many “friends” that I have accepted)? While I didn’t think about it constantly, I did think about it from time to time and wonder if I had made the right decision to send the friend request in the first place. A week went by before I got the notice that he had accepted me as a friend. No personal message, just an acceptance of my friendship and I was delighted. What was it that turned me into that kid again I don’t know, I only know that I realized that when most people talk about how much they change over the years based on their life experiences I realized that I had not changed at all. Instead I was still that ten year old looking at this sixteen year old and enraptured to be in his presence (if only by a small postage stamp of a photo of what he looked like today).

Maybe that’s the real thing about Facebook that makes it so popular, it makes us all kids again, waiting for one another’s approval but knowing as adults how painful a rejection can be from anyone and everyone giving us an opportunity to make amends by forgiving and accepting a friend request or feeling powerful by not accepting one, making them pay for whatever it is we think they’ve done and we are still holding a grudge about. I think even though we may censor people out on Facebook (or leave them in our inbox forever – or what a friend of mine calls “Facebook purgatory” as you’re not really in the heaven of being accepted or the hell of being rejected) we still let them in to a certain extent by accepting their friend request in the first place.

So to those who constantly annoy me asking me to join causes, help them find their pig in Farmville or post photos of me I’d rather not have posted, thanks for nothing but to those who accept my friendship or renew it by accepting my friendship via Facebook, thank you. I don’t think I’ll ever fully feel comfortable in the world of Facebook but sometimes Facebook is a good thing – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Don’t Ask…Period! – Don’t Get Me Started!

As the military bigwigs once again meet to try and figure out how to repeal the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” military policy to get rid of gays who will admit or get caught being gay I can’t help but think that really, it’s no one’s business who is gay and who isn’t. If you’re someone like me who doesn’t mind telling the world that you’re gay then great and if you’re someone who doesn’t want to tell the world good for you too. There’s no right or wrong in these two scenarios but what gets me is what a big deal the military (mostly fueled by the people who claim to talk and walk so often with Jesus) are making over the repeal of this stupid law. Don’t ask…period! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Is it anyone’s business who you have sex with as long as you’re two consenting adults? I think not. So why should that be a prerequisite for serving in the military? Please don’t tell me that this is going to become like credit ratings which need to be checked now for you to open a bank account or decide how much you’ll pay on car insurance (which has never made sense to me by the way). Honestly, there are lots of questions I ponder in my daily life that I think are better not answered.

I don’t want to know about my parents or most of my friend’s sex lives. I just don’t ask. I don’t really want to know what they put in fast food French fries that makes me love them so or whether or not the person serving them has just picked their nose before scooping mine out so I just don’t ask. There are millions of things that I simply don’t ask because I’m either afraid of the answer or just feel as though it’s none of my business so someone please explain to me why who you’re sleeping with has become a question that needs to be answered by those serving our country? We don’t ask when the Congress are boinking their Senate pages left and right. We don’t ask how much sex all of the straight politicians are having so why is everyone so concerned about us gays and how much sex we’re having? Jealous much, straightees?

As they have their congressional hearings and ask that the lawmakers repeal the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy “cautiously” I have a better plan that could save the country millions. Just change “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” to “Don’t Ask” if someone wants to serve this country and are an able bodied person, they’re in. Simple, right? No need for everyone to wonder where everyone will shower or if the gays will redecorate the barracks, let’s be realistic. The military has policies that are strictly enforced when it comes to conduct and I hardly think that allowing gays to serve is going to cause orgy after orgy in the tents (much to the chagrin of many a gay man’s fantasies) and seems to me with sex scandals such as Tailhook and the rest it was the straights who were something out of Military Gone Wild and what happened to them? They were tried and prosecuted, done.

What gets me is that everyone seems to be worried about the gays serving “openly” when really the only thing that should be open is their eyes to the fact that there are many a gay out there who feel as though what they do sexually is only their business. So while the religious right would have the country believe that allowing gays to serve will make the experience something akin to gay Mardi Gras, I suspect that nothing negative will happen. I also suspect that there are so many serving right now under the radar that when the time comes that they can tell everyone most of them will decide not to for the simple reason that I stated above. As much as the media and Christian right would love to make you think we gays are all about boas and glittery parades, on the whole, most are just what I call “your average garden variety gays” who live normal lives, contributing to their communities and trying to make ends meet. So when this stupid law gets repealed I don’t think that the heavens will open and swallow America whole nor do I think that the gay troops will be swallowing anything different than their straight counterparts (at least in the chow line) and outside of the chow line, whose business is it anyway?

What we have to understand is that just because America is on a 24 hour news cycle and thinks that because almost everyone wants to be on reality television either getting their life back together on Intervention or Dr. Phil or becoming a pseudo-celebrity on Jersey Shore, the truth is there are a lot of people who will never get their fifteen minutes of fame and they’re okay with it. There are a lot of people who feel as though their business is their business and they don’t feel the need to share everything with everyone. People write into me all the time and think that I’m the character I’ve designed for this website but I can tell you that while there are many facets of me that I allow you access to through my writing, for the most part this is a character that I’ve created to entertain you and make me famous. So what you do in your bedroom I don’t want to know about and what I do in my bedroom you’ll never know about because I’m not interested in “leaking” a sex tape anytime soon. And what military personnel do between the sheets simply shouldn’t be a concern of ours. Don’t ask…period! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I’m With Oprah On The No Phone Zone When Driving – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’m not one of those people who think that Oprah can and will save the world. I don’t care if she’s gotten fat or having trouble staying in shape and I certainly don’t care about that no talent leech of a friend, Gayle King but on one thing (at least) I’m with Oprah big time. I’m with Oprah on the No Phone Zone when driving – Don’t Get Me Started!

I used to be one of the worst people in the world about being on my cell phone when driving. I used to drive around in cities I didn’t know on the cell phone thinking that the business deal I was doing at the moment would surely crash and burn if I wasn’t on the phone with someone at every point of my day. I was addicted. Then when the Blackberry came out, forget about it. I could text, email and talk all at the same time. My spouse has always been against the whole cell phone constant access thing and he refused to let me be on the phone when I’m in the car with him a long time ago. He was convinced that the world would not stop spinning on its axis if I didn’t answer my phone. For the longest time I resisted, assuring him that now with the Bluetooth headset that I could easily keep my hands at 9 and 3 on the steering wheel (do they even still teach the steering wheel as a clock?) and talk away. But I was wrong. On more than one occasion I found myself drifting from one lane to the next while stupidly thinking I was completely in control of the situation. It reminds me of a party we threw in my third grade class. I was in charge of the decorations and everything else (no surprise I suppose) so there I was riding my ten speed bike to school with no hands on the handlebars because in my hands I was carrying the piñata that I had stuffed with a girl named Roxanne the day before (she thought she was my girlfriend but I thought of her more as my assistant) and two glass liters of Coke (back when they made them in glass, not plastic). As the bike was falling, it seemed like slow motion as I held the piñata up so as to not harm a tissue paper hair on the donkey’s head. Crash went the glass liters of Coke and as I lay there in the gutter watching the Coke spill out and past me I couldn’t help but feel like Janet Leigh in Psycho. I should have learned back then that when you’re driving (even just on a bike) it’s best to stay focused at the task at hand.

So after Oprah made her big show about how we’re all driving drunk basically when driving and texting and talking I decided to put the phone away (for the most part). I talk to one friend on the phone on my way into the office in the morning but as she is someone who talks “at” you and you never get a word in edgewise I don’t see this as really talking and driving, I’m just listening and driving as if the radio was on and telling me the intimate details of its life. Now that I’m phone free I’ve become worse than a smoker who stops smoking. I’m amazed at the morons out there who are still texting away while driving. Don’t they know Queen Oprah has spoken? And can someone please explain to me why the assholes who are texting and driving think that the right hand lane is for them? Have you noticed how the texters are always driving really slowly in the right hand lane as if like an express lane, this is some sort of special lane for people who are multi-tasking? Guess what dickhead, it’s still a lane that other people are driving (and turning in) so get the fuck off your phone and start paying attention to your shitty driving.

My guy is always saying that if anyone should ever hit him or anyone he loves (I usually assume that after twenty-one years I fall into this category) that the person who hits us better not be on a phone. He’s all ready thought it out enough to say that he will subpoena the driver’s phone records and kill them (but not necessarily in that order). Bottom line here is that it really isn’t safe to be doing two people or things at once, something always suffers. So though I’m not usually a go-alonger, this time, Oprah, I’m with you. I’m with Oprah on the No Phone Zone when driving – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Sometimes I Just Can’t Help Myself And Have To Answer Some Hate Mail! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I have tried to fly above (as Kandi sang on Housewives of Atlanta) but sometimes I find it harder than other times. And sometimes, I just feel like fucking with these fuckheads a little more. I know I should be a better person than this but I know I’m not and as I’ve often said, I know they’re sitting there getting their unemployment checks, tithing to their church and typing their misspelled hatred with their Cheetoh stained fingers while their six cats lay at their feet. Sometimes I just can’t help myself and have to answer some hate mail! – Don’t Get Me Started!

This is the most recent one that made me even write this blog entry. I can’t even remember when I wrote this blog but it was over a year ago and while I appreciate that some of my “oldies but goodies” are still being read, I think I could have done without Don reading me.

To read the blog, “I Hope Daryl Hall and John Oates Are Gay” click here http://hubpages.com/hub/I-Hope-Daryl-Hall-And-John-Oates-Are-Gay If you scroll down to the end of it you’ll see Don’s comments but here they are for your reading pleasure. Please be aware that I was dumb enough to think that he was complimenting me for the first three or so words until I re-read the comments and realized that he was agreeing with a guy who said I had a sick mind and needed to get to know God.

Here was my response to Don: Don, I don't think you feel evil just around gay people, I think you're evil around anyone and everyone. I suggest you have a long talk with a therapist about your issues. As for me, although I've always teased everyone I know that I intend to get to hell first so that my friends have to deal with color scheme for all of eternity I firmly believe that people who think like you are the real devils who are creating a hell here on earth for the rest of us who are more concerned with judging people for their human kindness and contributing to society as opposed to those of you who sit on your high horses doing nothing but spewing hate and ignorance. And please don't feel sorry for me, feel sorry for yourself as much as I do you poor stupid son of a bitch.

Here was one of my favorite gay on gay hate mail over a video blog I did about men who wear makeup. Although I only responded once, BigDaddyGregory (see my blog about gay baby names about how we gays can’t leave gay enough alone when it comes to our names – Gregory - http://hubpages.com/hub/Gay_Baby_Names)

Watch the video “Man Make-Up? – Forty-Something Gay, ep 39” - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lQ_r-igQG_0

While someone named “Gandy” had me in stitches by their comments and the fact that I’ve heard from other people that I looked like Neil Sedaka…

BigDaddyGregory was having none of it:

Before I could respond he worked himself into a real frenzy and wrote:

Still I held my fingers and didn’t respond until I read this one from him:

And so I typed:

Until he got the last typed word because I couldn’t take anymore and he wrote:

While I could go on and on about the hate mail I’ve received I’ll spare you at this time. The sad part is that unless I get some good hate mail from a blog post I don’t feel as though I’ve done my job. Something for me and my God to work on I suppose. Sometimes I just can’t help myself and have to answer some hate mail! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Don’t Think The World Is Ready For Me On 8 Hours Of Sleep! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I didn’t purposely try to make this happen but now that it has I don’t know what to do with myself. I sleep on average anywhere from 5 ½ hours to 6 hours a night, with the rare 7 hour night’s sleep making an appearance so you can imagine my surprise when I actually slept 8 hours last night. As I bounded from bed to shower to car to work I could tell that what was about to befall the world was something that I’m not sure they or myself were equipped to handle. I don’t think the world is ready for me on 8 hours of sleep! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve read all the reports about how important a good night’s sleep is for us. From losing weight to not losing our minds apparently the body needs some down time and unless we give it to it, it rebels against us in every way imaginable. Be that as it may, I still have never been able to sleep longer than six hours on the whole. I went to a sleep clinic once where they hook you up to so many strings that you feel like Pinocchio, “All I want to be is a real boy!” When I awoke after my customary six hours they made me sign a form stating that they didn’t wake me up. So after a night hooked up like an alien on life support in some top secret lab, the diagnosis (which came approximately $1500 later) was that I needed to get more sleep each night. Gee fellas, thanks.

I’ve said it before, I have one of those minds that doesn’t shut off. Even while I’m sleeping I’m troubleshooting the day ahead of me and the one that just passed. I’m making lists of things I want to do, need to do and probably shouldn’t do.  It got so bad that I would be on the elliptical machine at the gym in the morning and I would find myself actually closing my eyes and nodding off. Don’t ask me how I was doing it, I was still pedaling away and my arms moving to and fro and yet I could feel myself falling asleep. The doctor diagnosed it as me not getting enough “restful” sleep due to my over-active (a polite way of saying crazy) mind. So I began the medication mambo, one night a little Ambien, one night a Xanax, one night something homeopathic and another not something just homosexual. I don’t know, for three years I was back and forth with things that put me to sleep but didn’t keep me asleep, things that made me too sleepy during the day, shit, I felt like the God Damned Goldilocks for sleeping pills yet never finding something that was “just right.” So two weeks ago I decided that enough was enough and I got off of everything. I was surprised how much of a habit it had become to go to the medicine cabinet before I went off to bed each night. And while the first week was more than a little tough I was determined to get off the junk before having to sign up for Nobody Rehab (a rehab show for the non-famous folk). Lo and behold, last night I got the golden grail. I actually slept that 8 hours that you read about in medical journals.

Here I was, convinced I would spend the rest of my life being one of those old people who never sleep (mostly because they’re afraid if they go to sleep they won’t ever wake up). No longer will I be destined to be the 2am – 6am greeter at Wal-Mart. Could it be that I might just possibly be normal? Could it be that I really was a real boy? And what will the world do now that I’m not yelling in my car with the windows rolled up, that I no longer need four shots of coffee for someone to talk to me or that I no longer have a punch card at the pharmacy trying to get enough medications punched so that I can get one free? It may not last longer than this day but I’m frightened for all of us because the way I feel right now, life is good, clear and dare I say it? I’M HAPPY! No good can come from this. I don’t think the world is ready for me on 8 hours of sleep! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Why Can’t They Show One Event From Start To Finish At The Olympics? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know why the network doesn’t want to show one event from start to finish in the Olympic coverage but it makes me absolutely crazy. I get that by the time I’m watching the event the event happened hours before but please allow me a little bit of feeling as though I’m watching it in real time by showing me the same event the people who bought their tickets for the event are seeing. I hardly think that after the Chinese short figure skating program that the audience there was rushing to get out to the mogul ski event and yet there I was in my family room being transported when I didn’t want to be. Why can’t they show one event from start to finish at the Olympics? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know that they think that everyone in the American television audience has the attention span of a gnat but I assure you that I can get through fourteen couples skating and then hang around for the mogul skiing event (and what the hell is a mogul ski event anyway by the way). I get that they want to tease us by showing one pair skate and then come back to the rest of the skaters in an hour or two so as to not hurt the lesser events or events that we may not care about feelings but more importantly to get more sponsors to buy more commercials but come on people, don’t you get that you’re killing the momentum of the event itself? I know to some of you right now you think I’m going on and on because it’s the figure skaters which some think as a stereotypically gay dominated event but I assure you that it could have been any one of several skating events I’d be talking about and I’d still be upset. (What can I say, I’m not all that ashamed to be a gay stereotype.)

A friend of mine years ago said that we have Sesame Street to blame for the fact that we don’t have any attention span anymore. If you think about it she was kind of right. Sesame Street was the first show to bring information to us faster and faster. There were flashy images for five seconds as the guy stood atop the stairs proclaiming, “Six chocolate sundaes!” before he fell to the doom of the sundaes and possibly his back and then it was onto the ladybug picnic where they all sat around telling knock-knock jokes for the next five seconds and then onto the actual Sesame Street to hear Oscar complaining about something. The information kept coming faster and faster until now I sit in front of my computer and if it doesn’t get out to the Internet and find what I Googled in less than two seconds I want to throw the thing out of the window. That said there are some things that I would like to see in their entirety, the way that they were meant to be seen and not edited by the video producers at MTV.

I like being able to see an event from start to finish and then see the scores. I don’t need the instant replay, the insipid commentary or the new fangled slow-motion 360, 3-D lifelike filming when the event has enough drama all on its own. The whole thing has been overproduced. Perhaps that’s why so many athletes feel the need to get on steroids or anything they can get their hands on to make them bigger, faster and better than the next person because we’ve over-produced the events and they have to over-produce themselves just to be seen over the green screens. Look, we all know that the film industry could produce the entire Olympics like Avatar and it could win awards but I’d much rather see how people who work so hard for years finally make it to the top of their game and compete against others who have done the same without all the crap getting in the way. When I see someone in a show on Broadway, I don’t need a slow motion replay on a scene that was amazing, I use my mind to remember it but what sporting events and especially the Olympics producers forget is that our minds are more powerful than they think they are, we can watch, remember and enjoy all at the same time. Sure, show the amazing things that happened a second or third time but how can I sit on my sofa and judge the athletes if I don’t see them in the order the judges are seeing them? That’s what made me feel a part of the Olympics when I was young and let me tell you it was not being able to see the actual texture of the snow on my HD TV! There used to be a time in the Olympics when the judges would all hold up their scores. This was so iconic that I used to say about things that happened in my life, “Israel gives it a 7.0”  but now it’s all electronics and the bionic man and woman couldn’t even compete with the athletes that steroids have built and the same is true of how the show is produced.

I sat and watched four hours the other night and was disgusted the entire time. If they had showed the events in their entirety, showed less commercials, gotten rid of the heartwarming stories of the athletes at home and those horribly uncomfortable moments with Bob Costas in the studio the whole thing could have been done in less than half the time.  I like Bob Costas but please, put him and his interviews on after the Olympics for those who want to watch a man who has dyed his hair so much that the texture is now the same as his tweed coat and had his face painted an odd sort of color usually reserved for the open casket dead after the events. I don’t want my Olympics interrupted by stories of the athletes, what they’re serving in the dorms or even listening to Dick Button handicapping what I could be actually watching if he wasn’t on my damn screen. I just want to see the Olympics, is that so wrong? Why can’t they show one event from start to finish at the Olympics? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Love Means Two Don’t Become One – Don’t Get Me Started!

Feminists often talk about the damage that is done to young girls by giving them the image that there’s a knight on a white horse that is going to come and sweep them away to a perfect world in a castle. While I guess that has something to do with why some women (and men) can’t find the right guy, I think that there are other things that are far more damaging when it comes to helping people understand and maintain a healthy and successful relationship. Love means two don’t become one – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I was growing up I often heard this phrase of “two shall become one” and no coincidence I guess that it’s from a religious ceremony considering my one eye brow is constantly cocked in an upward direction when religious conventions create a standard that to me seems designed to keep us off balance enough so that we’ll continue to think we can only achieve happiness by donating money to a God who is full of rage with us but supposedly loves us all the same. It seems to me that the religious right have a relationship akin to Precious and her mother when it comes to their God but that’s their problem, not mine. Back to today’s topic. The thing is that I think phrases such as “soul mate” and “two shall become one” are far more damaging than any poor princess who is running away with a gay prince (come on, he’s wearing powder blue tights Cinderella, wake up, what are you Sleeping Beauty?). How exactly do two become one (without the aid of a mad scientist that only Spiderman will be able to destroy)? They don’t. What I think we tend to overlook or not want to see is that in order to be with someone you have to know who you are first and not lose that along the way. If “two becoming one” means that one of you “roll over” so that only one of your opinions, thoughts or dreams count then trust me when I say, you need to stop immediately because you’re headed down a road that will only lead one place, resentment settlement. That’s right, after years of you acquiescing you will find that you’re in a constant state of resentment, it’s as if you’ve moved to a place emotionally that’s as real as the settlement camps they used in Nazi Germany, once you’re at the resentment settlement you’re going to find that it alters everything else you will experience in that relationship and beyond. Maybe I went overboard when I fell in love with a six foot black man (considering I’m a 5’4” Jew) but it helps me to know that we will always be our own person, have our view of life that sometimes is the same and sometimes is very different. Being in a relationship with someone who is exactly like you must be the most boring thing in the world. You need someone to give you outside perspective and to help you to realize you’re not always right, wrong or wearing the right thing for your body.

The first couple of relationships I was in I was so worried about being the perfect spouse that I would constantly put myself and my thoughts aside until finally they could be stuffed down no longer and I would exploded and the relationship imploded. It wasn’t the other person’s fault that I was trying to second guess them so that I could be the perfect spouse and find a way for the “two of us to become one”, it was my fault. But I attribute it to being young and trying too hard to be a soul mate when I should have been trying to be my own person.

Let’s face it, relationships are hard enough as it is. I don’t care what anyone tells you, I’m here to tell you that even after twenty-one years there are days when I wake up and think, “Who the hell is in my bed and how do I get rid of him?” But most days I look at him and wonder what my life was like before him. We’ve been together so long that I sometimes find it hard to find a memory that doesn’t include him and it makes me really happy. Happy to have someone who is so not like me, happy to be with someone who loves me for me and as time goes by I find myself never asking if he’s my “soul mate” or if we “two have become one” because those are foolish school girl ideals that really make no sense and that don’t exist in our world, the world we’ve built together, two different people, choosing to share and live in the world we’ve created together. Love means two don’t become one – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Love Means Always Putting The Lid On The Q-Tip Jar – Don’t Get Me Started!

As Valentine’s Day draws nigh (how poetic of me, right?) I thought it might be a good idea to let you in on some of the secrets of a successful relationship. I don’t care if you’re gay, straight or penguins, there seems to be some commonality when it comes to being in successful relationships that no one really talks about. Sure, they’ll tell you to remember your spouse’s birthday or your anniversary (since gays can’t marry we use many different substitutes for our anniversaries, more on that later) they’ll tell you to greet them at the door naked wearing Cling Wrap to keep things sexy but they don’t tell you how to really stay in a relationship for say twenty-one years such as my spouse and I have been in (completely monogamous, I always throw that in because most people seem to think gays can’t be monogamous so it’s like dog years, instead of the twenty-one years we’ve been together, it’s really sixty-one at this point – no, not sixty-nine, get your mind out of the gutter). So, much like I appointed myself my family’s Gaytriarch, I’m going to do what a Gaytriarch does for you too. I’m going to give you some relationship advice. Love means a lot of things but really love means always putting the lid on the Q-tip jar – Don’t Get Me Started!

When people inquire as to my relationship and how it has lasted so long, straightees often make the mistake of going to an old question that needs to be done away with like the Ford Pinto, “Who is the man and who is the woman?” You see in most gay relationships I know, the duties are not broken down into one person wearing the apron and pearls while the other goes out and earns the daily bread. I think this can be said for straight relationships too as most couples struggle with both working and raising children (in my particular case we’re raising cats, two of them, and not doing all that great as they’re spoiled monsters) but you get the idea. When it comes to longevity in a relationship you really need to figure out what your place is in that relationship to make it work and the old Donna Reed lines of the man does this and the woman does that do not apply anymore (well not if you’re not living on a Mormon compound raising children like at a puppy farm). If you look hard enough, I think you’ll find that there are certain things you do that your spouse may not recognize you with an award or dozen roses but that they appreciate, even if they don’t know they appreciate it. Case in point for my household is that we have a glass cylindrical jar that holds Q-tips in our bathroom. Every day when I go into the bathroom, there is the lid to the jar, sitting beside the jar. Now as you know, Q-tips are small little cotton swabs that not only pick dirt up from everything from your ears to small electronic equipment but they also will pick up dirt and dust from the air, thus the cover to the jar that contains them. So the ritual in my house takes place every day. While he’s in the bathroom the lid comes off and when I go into the bathroom, I put the lid on. Not only do I put the lid on but I refill the jar. I don’t know that he’d even know where the Q-tips are to refill them to be honest because he’s never had to do it in the lifetime of our life together, nor will he, this is my job. While some may say, “that’s the woman’s job” I hardly think it can be boiled down to a gender classification when we’re just talking Q-tips here.

While some people might focus on the age old argument of, “Why should I always have to put the lid on the Q-tips?” in most cases it’s not about the lid at all. They’re really upset about something else or something having to do their own insecurities and they’re using an absurd piece of mundane everyday life to create an argument. People say, “Well, it was the little things that all added up to a big thing that made me not be able to be with him anymore.” WRONG! It was not dealing with the fact that instead of realizing that you’re going to put the lid on the Q-tips and he’s going to do all of the grocery shopping, you’re not dealing with the emotional side of things properly so you’re using the “little things” as a coward’s way out of the relationship.

It might sound ridiculous to you but I actually smiled the other day when I went into the bathroom and put the lid on the Q-tip jar for the eleven billionth time. Why you ask? Because when that lid is off, I know he’s home and I know that he probably didn’t think twice about the fact that the last time he was in there the lid was on, then he took it off and then it magically was back on the next time he went in there. He didn’t think about it probably but every time I put that lid back on, I’m showing him how much I love him and letting him know that he doesn’t have to do everything, that we have a partnership and some of the stuff he’s going to handle and some of the stuff I’m going to handle. So now that I think about it, maybe those people who say, “It was the little things that all added up to a big thing” had it right. I may not come in with cards and candy every day, I may not do the grocery shopping or cooking or a billion other things like he does (that shows me how much he loves me) but the lid will always be on the Q-tips, the cat food will always be in the cupboard and a I’ll do a million other little things too that will all add up to a big thing, a relationship where both of us can be ourselves and be with one another in a loving relationship for a very, very long time. Love means always putting the lid on the Q-tip jar – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Infomercials I Just Don’t Understand – Don’t Get Me Started!

Long have I sat through many an infomercial, sometimes being close to being convinced that I simply had to have the product the out of work actors were hawking late at night. I came close to needing the containers that held everything like Tupperware but squished down to accordion sized discs for easy storage. As I would watch, almost being lulled into a commercial coma of sorts I started thinking about where I would put the 35 piece set because even if it squished down a lot, it would still take up space. Then I started thinking about the ridges that made it able to squish down, no doubt pieces of food and whatnot would get stuck in these ridges causing me to need a toothbrush or something to clean them properly. Before they were done convincing me I had to have it, I had talked myself out of it. That’s an example of an infomercial I get but what I don’t get are some of the new ones on television. Infomercials I just don’t understand – Don’t Get Me Started!

Can anyone explain to me who has so much gold that if you melted it down you could get any decent money from it? I can see where rappers who no longer had careers might be able to use a service like this but for us common folk, is there really that much “unwanted” or “broken” gold in our jewelry boxes that we would send it away to someone we don’t know with no way to verify how much was in it when we sent it and expect to see returns enough to buy that new car? I simply don’t get it. It seems like a major scam that’s on national television to me but I guess if you’re literally worth your weight in gold then this service is for you. I just have this vision of women taking those big what I called “Shaleema” earring and putting them in the magical pouch then sending it off in the big GOLD INSIDE package and expecting that it will get to its destination and that what comes back will be worth the time, energy and loss of a style of jewelry that should never have started in the first place. What many may not know is that these earrings while looking really heavy were usually hollow so as to not pull someone’s ears down to their knees and also to make them more affordable. So really, how much gold are we talking here.

Another one I don’t get is all of the ones for the Wonder Woman belt that makes your abs contract until you end up looking like “The Situation” from Jersey Shore. We all know that they go around and hire people with fabulous bodies all ready and then just strap the contraption on them making you think that the contraption is what gave them those washboard abs, right? Trust me when I say that I would like to just sit watching television and have an electronic belt do all the work to make me “ab-er-riffic” but come on, who are you morons who believe this and order it? Plus, if you’re like me, your stomach is where you carry all your excess weight (if there really was a God, he would have made it that when you gain excess weight it would go to your penis size and biceps but no, damn you God for making me a pot-bellied bear instead) so if you have layers of fat on your stomach how is the electrical current actually going to get to your abs to make them rock hard granite, huh? I mean, think about it, have you ever gotten up to find that something you were eating had fallen on your stomach? You don’t notice it until you stand up and then there are those three chips  and an M&M you had no idea where they’d gone that suddenly jump off of you like a priest who is discovered with an altar boy in his rectory! The electrical current that has to penetrate all that fat would have to be roughly the same as taking your hair dryer in the bathtub with you to get to your abs to do the supposed toning these contraptions are supposed to offer and who cares if you have great toned abs if you’ve got fat covering them? Let’s face it, to have this thing work you’d need to have a pretty blank canvas – an out of shape but no body fat abdomen in order for it to really work.

The thing about all of these infomercials is that there’s always a part of me that gets suckered in a little bit. I watched the new whatever they’re called, “Make Me Skinny” jeans for women and wondered if I could get them in my size. Never mind that it’s just a girdle that sucks everything in, causing your internal organs to atrophy while your fat comes up over the waistline “bubbling crude” like the oil Jed Clampett found when he was shooting for food, you actually look as though you’ve lost three pounds and for some, that’s enough.

Look, I’m just as big a sucker for a good marketing campaign than everyone else. I almost convince myself time and time again that these are things I actually need. I just thank God that I’m as jaded as I am so that I never actually give these people my credit card, even though they’re offering two sets for the price of one and I’m only paying shipping on the tool that makes radishes into rosettes. And let’s face it, if you’re like me , a plate never leaves my kitchen without a radish rosette (he said rolling his eyes and the words dripping with sarcasm from every pore). Not to mention the egg separator that comes with that vibrating needle to scramble the eggs in the shell, I have a feeling that people have used that thing not for its intended purpose if you know what I mean and I know that you do. I’m not saying I won’t stop watching them but I’ll still say there are a ton of infomercials I just don’t understand – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Should I Be Worried That The Nurse Told Me She Learned It By Watching The Television Series House? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I had to go in and get one of those tests that I’m not really sure what it was all about but having been a “rule-follower” for all of my life, I drank the 32oz of water and then rushed to the doctor’s office while trying to not have an accident or do the “pee pee dance” too much in the waiting room. The nurse administering the test was friendly and knowledgeable but as she was telling me these little known facts (at least not known to me) about my organs she then told me that she had learned this from watching the show, “House.” Should I be worried that the nurse told me that she learned it by watching in the television series, House? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I have to say that the nurse seemed highly capable of her job and went to work straight away (probably knowing that this was not going to be like changing a baby and hoping they didn’t pee on you – should she hit me at the proper angle, there was no doubt going to be a perfect storm of pee) and I appreciated that her bedside manner was better than any I had experienced in recent years. She told of her family, her this and her that in an attempt no doubt to distract me from the fact that all I could do was think of waterfalls and trickling brooks or fountains. I also appreciated that she was telling me about the procedure and why she was doing what she was doing as she was doing it. But as she asked me to take a deep breath and hold it for the third time was when she came out with the information that the reason she was doing this was due to something she had seen on House. I must have had a look on my face that said, “Um, excuse me but could I see your nursing degree immediately before you touch me again with your rubber gloved hands?” She quickly said that she had learned it in nursing school and was just impressed that they had included it on an episode of House. Yeah, right. Listen lady, the damage had been done. Or had it?

As I laid there shifting from position to position, doing anything that was asked of me, I thought maybe I had it all wrong. Maybe it was a good thing that this woman loved her profession so much that she watched television shows about it too. Maybe she soaked up everything she could medical and here I was reaping the benefits of it. After all, isn’t it a good thing that there’s something happening on television that’s educational that doesn’t have a voiceover of some guy who sounds like he’s on quaaludes? Plus, let’s face it the days of shows featuring doctors who are just sort of miming “look at me, my hands are in this patient operating” are over – there are medical experts who just sit on the set all day and tell the actors that they’re not holding the forceps correctly or what have you. So suddenly I began to feel better about the whole situation and could really listen to what she was telling me about her kids and life in general.

And as the test came to a close and she walked me to the restroom to pee like I was in the stage musical version of the original Austin Powers movie when he’s unfrozen, I started to feel better about things. While there are certain professions where I would question a professional in that field quoting movie or television show information as their source (I don’t know that I’d ever feel comfortable with a lawyer telling me that he’s using a line of defense he saw in Legally Blonde however I would feel okay about him using something from Law And Order) I began to realize that the days of seeing medical professionals as some sort of Gods has passed. I’m not sure if it’s better that we know that our doctors and nurses are just human beings or not but there’s no way to stick our heads in the sand on this one. We must accept that there will be good ones, bad ones and some who learn stuff about their profession on television. Should I be worried that the nurse told me that she learned it by watching in the television series, House? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Repulsed By The Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Repeal Opposition – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve written about the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell policy more than I care to remember. There’s a large part of me that doesn’t get why we’re still talking about it or more to the point dealing with it. I appreciate that Obama announced in his State of the Union speech that this policy will be done away with this year but as I’ve noted before, he can’t make anything happen on his own and as long as the religious right and good old boy white man network runs our country I don’t think the repeal of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell will go down without the conservatives trying to make everyone think that allowing gays to serve openly will cause civilization as we know it to collapse. Repulsed by The Don’t Ask Don’t Tell opposition – Don’t Get Me Started!

Like anything else, marketing is the key here. The conservatives have to frighten their followers to think that the gays want this policy revoked so that they can have sex with the young boys that apparently only conservative white people are sending out to defend our country. They have to create enough fervor and hate that it will trickle down to Bubba who flunked out of high school that the military is trying to recruit in a repressed neighborhood’s Wal-Mart parking lot. They have to create the fear you see to gain power over these people. They don’t call themselves, “God fearing” people for no reason. They’ve managed to keep their minions in line for years with fear and this will be no exception.

The other key issue here is money. They don’t want us gays to get the same rights as citizens so they sure as hell don’t want to see our gay spouses joining us at the PX to stock up on supplies. And more importantly, they don’t want us getting health benefits from our spouses or cashing in when they die. Don’t forget that we still don’t have equality in civilian life so if they start treating all of the military fairly how long will it be before we can hold that up and say, “Um, excuse me, I pay taxes, why should my spouse be treated differently than how military spouses or any spouse for that matter are treated?” They say that it’s going to cost so much more money because of all of the spousal benefits that they’ll have to extend to which I say, “Come on do you think we’re that stupid?” What about Bubba and his teen bride who has six kids from different babies’ daddies that have only known one another for three weeks before he shipped out? You pay out spousal benefits proportionately to the people you enlist. Just like any company. If they hire forty people, sure they could look to discriminate and make sure everyone was single so that they wouldn’t have to pay spousal benefits but in a normal circumstance, the more people you hire, the more people are likely to have spouses who should be included in the company’s benefits policy. It’s a cost associated with doing business, get over it.

And what of the talk of needing separate showers and barracks for gays that some are saying are going to be required to let gays serve openly? I’m sure they’ll talk about how much money it will cost the taxpayers. I think separate anything is stupid. When do we get our pink triangle badges, Mr. Hitler? When do we get the gay water fountains too? We saw how great that worked out for the African Americans so why go there? Why go there? Because too many of the closeted conservatives spend way too much time watching gay porn where a barracks suddenly becomes an orgy where everyone’s foxhole is filled that they’ve deluded themselves that this is how gay barracks life will be. Life doesn’t imitate porn people unless you pay a prostitute. No handyman is coming to your house wearing coveralls who asks you to hand him his wrench in his pocket and it turns out to be his fourteen inch dick. In real life two women aren’t ever washing their cars when all of a sudden they spray each other with water and start making out. While this may be the stuff that fantasies are made of it isn’t real life people.

There are enough things in life that make me crazy, I don’t need anything else added to the list right now so what we need to do is look at one another as human beings and understand that homosexuality has nothing to do with how we do our jobs, it’s who we are. Sure it influences our decisions because thanks to ignorance and discrimination we have to consider where we buy our home or where we shop so that we don’t get killed just for living our everyday lives but it doesn’t mean that we’re all sex addicts. We’ll leave that to the celebrities trying to clean up their image like Tiger Woods. And while we’re on the subject of images please stop trying to paint all homosexuals with the same brush. We’re not all Charles Nelson Riley and were not all Vin Diesel either (I’m not saying Vin Diesel is gay, just using him as a stereotype people, don’t get nervous boys). We like snowflakes and all human beings are a unique creation of genes and molecules just like the rest of you so stop all ready with the limp-wristed portrayal that only makes you look stupid. Stop with all the fear people. And think about it this way, if people didn’t have to hide their sexuality to be treated with dignity and respect you wouldn’t have as many of your priests and preachers marrying your women and having sex with men on the side causing you to have to try and pay the gay sinner who supposedly corrupted your holy man “hush money” and cause you embarrassment and worrying you that you won’t rake in as many millions this year from your “congregation” which consists of a bunch of morons sitting at home on unemployment giving money to the church instead of getting their hair done and going out looking for a job. While you sit in your religious ivory towers that hate and fear built you’re going to discover that you can’t fool all of the people all of the time and that the foundation is starting to crack. You’ll also find that that handyman you called to fix the foundation just might have a fourteen inch dick in his pocket instead of what you think is a wrench. But I doubt it. Repulsed by The Don’t Ask Don’t Tell opposition – Don’t Get Me Started!

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How Will They Ever Tackle The Repeal Of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell – Don’t Get Me Started!

This will be one of my quicker rants but I just can’t take it anymore. All of the Internet and CNN has been broadcasting it all day. Military leaders were told by Obama in his State of the Union that Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell needed to go away this year and today the top brass echoed the sentiment but now everyone is starting the typical game that comes when people don’t want to do what they know they have to do, they’ve started making excuses. They want to study it, dissect it and figure out a “proper solution” that won’t impact the morale and tradition of the military. Are you fucking kidding me?Everything you read makes it sound as if this is the hardest thing the military has ever faced, using words like “tackle the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell situation.” How will they ever tackle the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell – Don’t Get Me Started!

It seems to me that the military is based on rules that must be obeyed to the letter or else you get thrown out, right? Isn’t that what they claimed they did when they threw out all of the soldiers who were reported as being gay by one of their fellow soldiers or from some other source? The soldiers supposedly asked or the told so they were thrown out, period. So explain to me why it’s any different for them to say that the rules have changed, being gay will no longer be a reason to not be able to serve in the military. Should anyone be found to be harassing or doing anything to any other soldier (be they gay, straight, red headed or whatever) you will go through a complete investigation and should you be deemed as committing a crime you will be persecuted like anyone else under the hate crime laws. End of story.

No, suddenly the old white boys’ network is worried about the mental health of the straight soldiers having to serve with gays. Since when are they interested in the emotional status of anyone? Have they done anything about the increased suicide rates in the military? Did you know that the government didn’t send condolence letters to families of military who committed suicide until Obama changed that?  They’re not worried about the mental health of the other soldiers, they’re just interested in finding a way to delay or avoid this altogether, well guess what? You can’t continue to have this inequality exist in the military anymore, your Commander in Chief said so, so get on it and don’t tell me you have to wait and figure out what you’ll do about spousal benefits and everyone’s feelings. Bullshit. Give the order and then enforce the order like good soldiers. There’s no whining in the military…or is there?

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Does Anyone NOT Have A Month At This Point? – Don’t Get Me Started!

As I was sitting there mindlessly watching the RuPaul’s Drag Race marathon on Logo Network the other day there was a commercial that the winner of the competition did letting us know that in the US, January was National Drag Month. She was doing her commercial to promote an Inter-National Drag Month but as I sat there on the last day of January having just found out that National Drag Month had come and gone, I couldn’t help but wonder does anyone NOT have a month at this point? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Read my interview with RuPaul here… http://hubpages.com/hub/RuPaul---The-Some-Like-It-Scott-Interview)

Being as I call myself a “garden variety gay” I’m not sure what I would do for National Drag Month had I known sooner but I did feel a sense of letting my community down when I learned that it was all ready over before I knew it began. Then I began to think about the  fact that February is Black History Month (and still not completely convinced this wasn’t something decided on by white men who gave the African American community the shortest month in the year regardless of freaking leap years or non-leap years) and realized that although I have been in a relationship with a black man for these past twenty-one years, I hardly think I’m going to dress up like Harriet Tubman and  we’ll reenact the Underground Railroad in our living room for our cats and anyone who can see in the windows to celebrate. So I began to wonder just what these “months” really mean and if they hadn’t lost some of their meaning over the years that I’ve been aware of them.

I understand that Hallmark created a bunch of silly holidays to sell cards (Sweetest Day? Are you kidding me? What the hell is this holiday even about and is it subsidized by the sugar industry?). And if you’re looking for me to tell you why these “months” of “celebration” were started, I’m sure you’re not going to find it in this blog. But more than anything I began to wonder if we shouldn’t just rewrite as many books as we can to include all of these cultures and then do away with the month that supposedly represents and celebrates them being less repressed than they were twenty minutes ago in our culture (supposedly). Isn’t it time that we started teaching kids that next to Admiral Peary’s side discovering and tackling the North Pole for the first time was a black man named Matthew Henson? (I can only cite this from the musical Ragtime though my partner assures me it’s accurate) My point is that just like when Lucy did something crazy on the I Love Lucy show, I think it’s time for all of the ethnic people in America to say to the textbook and history writers of today, “You got some ‘splaining to do.” You have a duty to explain in your school and other books that the world wasn’t created all by white men and that the world today doesn’t view the white man as the standard for all other men. It’s like when we go into these other countries and then get all bent out of shape because they’re not jumping with joy about us cramming our brand of freedom down their throats. I think there’s a ton of ego involved here and frankly with the way we’re currently running with debt and unemployment here in the US perhaps we don’t know everything. (Shocking, right?)

So while I understand that the minorities in this country long to be accepted and probably created these months as a way for that particular minority to feel “just as good as” or “celebrating their culture for the masses to see” I wonder if we all don’t need to just start getting smarter and realizing that we as minorities need to be celebrating ourselves every day. It’s a little like Chris Matthews proclaiming that for an hour and a half he forgot that Obama was black during his State of the Union speech. For too long we’ve all tried to blend in instead of celebrating our differences and embracing them. So instead of creating a month, I say let’s start seeing and accepting people for who they are, let’s take the good with the bad. And please don’t expect me to be flattered when you say, “I don’t think of you as Jewish” or “I don’t think of you as gay.” I want you to think of me as both of those things because that’s what makes me as fabulous as I am. I don’t think everyone else should be a Jewish gay man (okay secretly I do a little bit) but please don’t hold up the white middle class straight men as some sort of standard to me because haven’t you white people learned how quickly they disappoint, hello John Edwards. Let’s start rewriting history books and our own. Let’s not try to be Plain-Bellied Sneeches, trying every way we can to become like the star-bellied Sneeches from Dr. Seuss who had “stars upon thars” and thought they were something special until the Plain-Bellied Sneeches figured out how to get stars on thars too. Let’s realize that plain or starred it’s more interesting a life, society and world when we’re not all the same. Meanwhile, who do I talk to in order to get a Gay Jewish Man Month? Does anyone NOT have a month at this point? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Does Spring Cleaning Have To Wait Until Spring? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know it’s traditional to wait until the seasons change to take what you’ve not been wearing in your closet and get it out of your life. But as February begins and I have a hankering to begin to sort through, sort out and sort of get rid of those things in my life that wear me down (the list includes clothing, tsochkes and mental crap), I have to wonder, “Does spring cleaning have to wait until spring?” – Don’t Get Me Started!

A marathon watching of Celebrity Rehab the other day got me to thinking about the fact that I think we’re all addicted to something. Some of us have addictions that are detrimental to our health and those around us and some are addicted to being so healthy they end up working out every minute of every day and/or only drinking organic juices from berries that were never mistreated until they’re so anemic looking that all you want to do is spray tan them or buy them their fangs for the vampire lifestyle they seem to be so ghoulishly suited for with their so-called healthy appearance. I get that being addicted to something like eating healthy and exercise is better than being an alcoholic but no matter what your addiction, I think it’s all about mental stuff that we’re not dealing with instead of the actual craving of martinis and 5k runs. I think the hoarders of the world definitely have had some sort of mental stress that causes them to save everything from bologna sandwiches from last fall to their own fingernail clippings but what about us functioning hoarders? My house doesn’t look anything like those scary hoarder homes (I can’t even sleep if there are dishes in the sink) but there are shirts and pants that I’ll never get in again that are hanging in my closet. There are books that I’ve never read or only read the first three pages of and then decided that I could not self-help myself by reading instead of living and there are the zillion pieces of paper that I have accumulated that seem to have no relevance anymore and yet they stay where they are until I lift them once more to dust under and over them.

So as I look over my life’s accumulation of crap I can’t help but start to feel as though I’m my father. My father’s idea of cleaning is basically taking the house (closet, bed, whatever it is) and just dumping it on its side watching everything fall into the garbage like a waterfall. And while I have these tendencies, I resist them. You see, invariably when my father would do one of his “heave ho’s” it would only take an hour before we realized that he had thrown away the instructions to the VCR, the special cable that went to the camera or the only picture of my grandmother when she came over to this country for the first time as a child. I use the above as a great reason to not “heave ho” but every fiber of my being is twitching like someone with restless life syndrome who wants to see garbage bags filled with Goodwill goods and garbage goods.

I have few fantasies in my life. When I was traveling all the time for business, one of my fantasies was that I would travel someplace with no carry on or checked bags. I would buy everything I needed once I got to where I was going and then leave everything there, returning the way I went, with just me. The same can be said of my home. I long to live in a place that has furniture and only tables with a few smart coffee table books in their appropriate place but alas the mail I need to deal with is on the dining room table, the New York Times Magazine from four weeks ago is laying around as there was something in there I really wanted to read but can’t remember what it was but don’t want to throw it away yet because I might remember it and actually read that article on reorganizing your life. Hey, that was it!

But while right now the whole process seems daunting I know in my heart that I’ll feel lighter once I get in there and start sorting, heaving and hoing. So while some may wait until spring, I’m sure I have a book somewhere that talks about “daring to be different” and it’s time for it to go. So while I’ve done it before it’s time to do it again. So say a little prayer for me. Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more. Does spring cleaning have to wait until spring? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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