If A Child Is Raised By Two Gay Dads What Will The Child Feel At Mother’s Day? More Stupid Arguments Online – Don’t Get Me Started!

After watching the new CNN documentary, “Tony And Gary Have A Baby” I went online to read the comments. That’s right, I have said it before and I’ll say it again, I love all the anonymous hate spewed online by what I call the “Cheetoh’s stained finger people.” Time and time again they do not disappoint and this was no exception. After reading the typical, “If God had intended people to be gay he would have created Adam and Steve” or the people who quote the bible passages, came a quote that was not really a surprise to me. After all, a pal from Australia had recently sent me an article that was in his local paper bringing up the same argument around this “sacred” holiday. Still, it’s a doozy! Someone actually wrote, “If a child is raised by two gay Dads what will the child feel at Mother’s Day?” More stupid arguments online – Don’t Get Me Started!

The Australian article talked about the wonderful joy of sharing Mother’s Day with your mother and how ostracized children would feel for not having a mother on this very important holiday. Last time I looked this was one of those Hallmark holidays created to sell greeting cards, yes? Or did I miss the part in the bible where Jesus created the Mother’s Day holiday? Or maybe it was the Pope? Meanwhile guess what morons, how do you think the children feel that have lost their mothers to death or never knew their mother? I get that you think the gays are depriving children of what’s normal but again I have to say that I have never met two people who could agree on what normal really is and if this is your big argument then I’m here to tell you that you are not a convincing arguer. I guess you should also stop Jews from having kids because they won’t know what it’s like to celebrate Christmas.

Besides the overtly religious based fervor with the ever popular top ten of bible quotes against gays there was some poorly masked religious fervor. Some of my favorites include comments such as, “If gays really want to help children they should give their money to orphanages.” That’s right, instead of giving a child a loving home to call their own, get him/her cable in an orphanage. Good thought there.

Of course there was the argument that gays just wanted to get their hands on boys to have sex with them and indoctrinate them into the “gay lifestyle.”  And next there was the “it’s a fad…look at Miley Cyrus pretending to kiss another girl. Just trying to call attention to themselves.”  Or perhaps my favorite at the end of someone’s rant about if the world order collapsed so would homosexuality and then it would have to go back into hiding, “just like the disease it is. Poopers are meant for going to the bathroom with, not for anything else.” No doubt this person is a doctor or something from their technical term usage.

But all of that suddenly went away when I read the following comment that was posted by someone only listed as “Guest”

Recently, my mother and her partner of 12 years adopted. They have a beautiful little girl who I am proud to call my sister. It astonishes me that so many people can hate what my upbringing was without ever knowing anyone who has been through it. I am a very blessed person. I am successful in both my personal life and in my career (I just finished law school and am taking the July Bar Exam).
Hopefully my life and experience is enough to change even one person's mind about this. Our country was built on one of the most noble of expectations, that all are created equal. Why we still can't fathom this is beyond me. But times are changing, and the bigotry is slowly coming to and end. Thank you for your time.”

Wow, was all I could think. Never mind all the bible quoting and the archaic ideals people shove down one another’s throats, here was someone who had lived it and knew more than me or the “Cheetoh’s stained finger people.” While some may say that the parents in this case were a man and woman so that makes it okay, I look at the fact children more than anything need to know they’re loved by whomever parents them and this woman obviously was loved just like I was and like the children raised by heterosexual or homosexual parents who are good parents. Amen. If a child is raised by two gay Dads what will the child feel at Mother’s Day? More stupid arguments online – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Remember When You Used To Take People At Their Word? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Once upon a time when people gave you their word on something you knew that they were being honest and that they would keep their word. Better than a badge from the Boy or Girl Scouts, we were taught that taking someone at their word was the ultimate trust agreement. Sure you  could get them to swear on a stack of bibles or pinky swear but for the most part, after you were ten years old you had to have faith in the people you were associating with that they were doing and were going to do what they said they would do. Remember when you used to take people at their word? – Don’t Get Me Started!

There was a time before DNA testing and Google that you had to trust your instincts about people. Sometimes your instinct s were right and sometimes it went horribly wrong, it was the trial and error process that your parents promised you would help you grow to be the adult that you wanted to be and that they could be proud of. Sure you might distrust someone who never made eye contact or seemed to have a bit of a twitch when you suspected that they were lying but on the whole, I was taught that someone’s word was the most sacred thing that you could give to someone and that you should uphold your word short of death. You never wanted to be someone who didn’t keep their word, that made you seem seedy, unworthy or just downright a bad person.

Was it naivety or simply youth that made someone’s word seem like a bond better than a written contract? Now think about how you are today. Even with a contract, how much do you take someone at their word? The immediate thought in my head are the sellers of cell phones. They tell you they’re giving you a special rebate they really don’t give everyone and that you don’t have to worry about anything because they’re going to take special care of you and then you realize that you signed a two year contract that has so much gibberish in the contract that you couldn’t possibly understand it if you HAD gone to law school. Turns out the rebate can only be used in the store as a credit toward the retail, not sale, price of anything else they’re selling. Turns out that the two year contract is a four year contract and if you want to make outbound calls it will cost you extra. When you go back to the store you discover that the person who told you and sold you everything no longer works at the store and the new person tells you that what the previous person told you was all lies, that you have to abide by the contract or pay a large sum of money to get out of it, and that this is the reason the person was let go. However they’ll gladly sell you a better rate plan even though they really shouldn’t but they feel badly about what happened…supposedly. Secretly the new salesperson thinks you’re making everything up and knows that the other sales person did exactly what they would do to close the sale. So much for people’s word, right?

I am very Anne Frank in my day to day thought process. I want to believe in spite of everything that people are good. I’m a true Scorpio, loyal to a fault, until you cross me and then I’m so done with you I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. But the more I deal with people the more I realize how little control we really have, sometimes we need to take the leap of faith and sometimes we’ll choose not to make the leap because of a gut or some other instinct telling us not to leap.

But what I’ve discovered is that in the end, I think I don’t want to be focused on whether or not someone else is keeping their word to me but rather focus on being the person who always keeps his word, a person whose word is respected because it is kept not most but all of the time when it is given to someone. Maybe not out of any other reason than because that’s what I was taught was “right” when I was being taught what was “right from wrong.” Or maybe because I want my parents, spouse and cats to be proud of me.  Sure there are times when my feelings will be hurt because someone does not believe my word but I have to remember that’s on them and not a reflection of me. Mostly I need to keep my word to myself so that no matter who or what external forces work to make me stop taking people at their word, I know in my heart my word still means what my parents told me it meant and what I aspired to have it mean. Remember when you used to take people at their word? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Daytime Soap Operas Are Dead, Here’s How We Fix It – Don’t Get Me Started!

When soaps started it was all about being transcended into a world where people drank expensive sherry while sleeping with their brother’s wife and accidentally murdering the child they didn’t know was actually theirs. The complex complicated storylines seemed almost impossible to keep up with and yet at the same time you could not watch for a month, come back and for some reason at least fifty percent of the turmoil that was happening a month prior was still going on. I was never addicted to any one soap opera but there’s a part of me that is very sad they’re going away. Someone needs to step in and per usual, I think it’s me. Daytime soap operas are dead, here’s how we fix it – Don’t Get Me Started!

The problem I see is that there are only the few mothers who still can afford to be home with their kids, the unemployed and crackheads who are available for the daytime viewing. These people need something that speaks to them and at the same time makes them feel as though they’re better than the people on the screen. Sure you could just play The Hills or any of the other six gazillion reality late night soaps but no one cares about the ultra rich and their stupid behavior in the harsh light of day when there’s laundry to do, jobs to semi look for and crack to score. I suggest that we start creating a new line of reality soap operas and refitted retro-programming to fit the demographics that are watching.

For the mothers there should be a reality show where the people are all successful working mothers, tackling corporate America and cupcakes for their kid’s fifth grade class but also have an addiction to some sort of over the counter drug. While it won’t be illegal that the mothers are all secretly hopped up on Sucrets, nasal spray and Vagisil it’ll make for some good television. What this will do for all the mothers out there is allow them to see that no one can have it all without something suffering, in this case their sinuses and vagina. This will give that “I’m better than you” feeling to the stay at home moms while also being of interest to the unemployed who think the moms on the show are hot while giving the crackheads a view at using other things than the current list of drugs they’re on. I’m sure there’s a neighborhood out there where these conditions all ready exist so I suggest that Mark Burnett or MTV start turning over some rocks and seeing what crawls out.

For the unemployed there would be a show where other unemployed people would be taken down memory lane in a sort of “This Is Your Life” feel. The unsuspecting guest would be surprised on their couch and there would be a sort of melodramatic feel to the show where they bring in the past important people and employers in the person’s life. There would be plenty of tears and also it would become sort of a half an hour, “This Is Your Resume” type show and of course at the end, instead of “Move That Bus” it would be a “Move That Couch” experience when the unemployed person discovers that they’ve been given a new job! Sort of an Extreme Life Makeover show.

And finally programming for the crackheads. These people are easily entertained and made paranoid so I’m thinking we just bring back H.R. Pufnstuf. No need to update it or anything, just play the old episodes. Even as a kid I wondered why Jack Wild as “Jimmy” was so “into” his flute which undoubtedly the crackheads will relate to because at some point I’m sure their pipe has seemed golden and as if it was talking to them in a high pitched voice with bejeweled lips. Meanwhile seeing H.R. Pufnstuf’s expression never change always sort of freaked me out while Witchiepoo seemed like my kind of people. Let’s face it, this show has something for everyone whether you’re on the crack or not. And if we really want to screw with them, we can get them addicted to the show and then every once in awhile put on Lidsville or The Banana Splits, either one of them is bound to freak them out so much that they’ll eventually think that these worlds are a reality that they don’t want to be a part of and that the reality of being forty-five and living in their parents basement is a better reality than watching oversized hats!

I know, I know, I’ve done it again. But as I always like to say, “This is what I do.” We have to get away from thinking about how we’re going to stop the oil in the Gulf or why Jake and Vienna broke up (he never wanted to have sex with her, is heavily into his body, I’m just saying I won’t be surprised if he ends up dating Ricky Martin) and figure out what to do about daytime programming. Glad I could help. Daytime soap operas are dead, here’s how we fix it – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Every time I Think I’m Out, iPhone Sucks Me Back In – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ll admit it, I’ve talked a lot of smack about my iPhone (see the video http://hubpages.com/hub/Why-I-Hate-My-iPhone---Forty-Something-Gay--ep44 and one of the many written blogs - http://hubpages.com/hub/Im-Dropping-Out-Of-The-Cell-Phone-Race) but soon after writing the blog that I was getting out of the cell phone and technology race my iPhone seemed to have sensed that I was unamused creating a chain of events that now makes me feel like Michael Corleone in Godfather III. Every time I think I’m out, iPhone sucks me back in – Don’t Get Me Started!

Almost twenty-four hours after writing and posting the blog about getting out of trying to keep up with the Joneses or anyone else who was all ready jumping online to order the new iPhone I discovered that my 3gs iPhone was getting really hot. Not in a Paris Hilton kind of way but more of a “I now have a brick of radiation against my face” kind of way. I found myself driving around holding the phone in front of one of the vents with the air conditioner on high. Forget causing an accident from being on your phone while driving, you can’t imagine how it impedes your driving skill when driving and holding a phone to a vent! The next thing I noticed was that the phone battery charge would go from 100% to about 40% in a matter of a half an hour. I knew all of this was my iPhone telling me that it knew I was saying unkind things about it or at the very least that I was not going to get its sexier new version and it was mad at me.

I called and talked to a support person and the amazing thing was that not only could I actually understand them, Ginger seemed as though she really wanted to help me solve the issue. After listening to the symptoms and talking to her supervisor she came back to let me know that I had a case number and that if I just went to an Apple store they would replace the phone. (For the first time in my life, I was thirty-three days from the warranty running out where they just do a replacement. This is the first and last time I’m sure that a warranty will work in my favor.) I went online and made my appointment at my local Apple store and guess what? I got to the store and it was like an ant farm. The people were practically crawling over one another carrying boxes with I guess iPads and iPhones that appeared to be several times their size. There were people on the computers and people looking at accessories and for a moment it was impossible to tell that Nevada lost 190,000 jobs last month or that people were experiencing a recession. I went to the “Genius” counter and guess what? The guy was a genius. No personality but a genius. Within ten minutes of walking in the store I was walking out of the store with my new iPhone. Not the new new one (believe me I tried to convince him that he should just give me the new one coming out in a week but it was no dice).

When I got back to the office I tried to set up my work email account and was having difficulty so again I called Apple support and got another person who was wonderful to talk to. After she tried everything in her power (all the while I was touching things and trying to make it work) I got the email to work. Now came the part I was dreading, putting everything back into the phone like all the apps, etc. I plugged in the new phone, it asked me if I wanted to use the settings from the old phone and suddenly everything started going to the new phone. Had I just plugged it in, the email accounts proved to set themselves up as well with the exception of the password which I had to re-enter.

Then yesterday morning when I plugged in my iPhone it stated that there was a software update. It seemed to take forever but when it was done, my iPhone was suddenly transformed with a new look for email as well as a host of other sassy changes. I guess it’s for the release of the new phone. And as I marveled at this device that still dropped calls and annoyed me, I found myself looking online to get a glimpse of the new iPhone. Gosh it’s pretty, gosh it does a lot of cool stuff, gosh it would be easy to set up. And as I closed the Internet window I realized that Apple had succeeded in marketing its way into my heart once more. Every time I think I’m out, iPhone sucks me back in – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Must Be Old, I Finally Get What Slipcovers Were All About – Don’t Get Me Started!

For most of you, you will be far too young to understand any of this blog so just go ahead and come back tomorrow. A long time ago on a coast that was east my family’s furniture was encased with plastic known as “slipcovers.” That’s right, when you would sit down on a piece of furniture your bum didn’t actually touch the fabric of the material because it was all encased in clear plastic that was custom fit for the furniture and zipped up the sides. It was sort of like Snow White in her glass casket. You could see how lovely the fabric was but this allowed it to stay so lovely by you not getting your dirt and grime upon it. (That is until the plastic had been on too long and began to yellow.) I know it seems impossible to many of you that something like this existed but I assure you that it did and when I was very young and we lived in the east every piece of everyone’s furniture was covered with this plastic. I think my grandmother’s brother was in the business which sort of explains it and also it seemed all the rage (at least in my family). To let you know to what extent the slipcovers were used, I can remember the seat cushions on my grandmother’s dining room set being covered in slip covers too! Well recently I got a new printer for my computer and as I took it out of the box I found myself fighting with myself as to whether or not to remove the thin plastic protective film that was used to protect it during shipping. That’s when it hit me. I must be old, I finally get what slipcovers were all about – Don’t Get Me Started!

I hated slipcovers when I was young. I hated everything about them, from the crunching noise they would make when you sat down to the fact that in the summer when you were wearing shorts you would actually stick to the plastic and when you would go to get up it wasn’t unlike peeling clear tape off of a window. Once you could get yourself unstuck and standing you would always check the back of your legs to ensure that your skin had not come off. If you had sat long enough you would have the seam of the slipcover indented into your skin for a good twenty minutes or so. How I loathed my grandmother’s home because of the slipcovers. I didn’t understand it, thought it was stupid that no one was allowed to sit on the actual furniture and God forbid the plastic would crack somewhere because then you would have to sit in such a way as to not impale yourself on the thick dagger of plastic coming from the furniture. I was delighted that once my family had moved west that the slipcovers slipped away. When you live in Arizona, I don’t care how much you run your air conditioner, in the summer just sitting on those slipcovers the back of your legs would begin to immediately sweat and then if you didn’t slide off from the sweat against the plastic you would find that you would just periodically have to lift your leg up (while still sitting) and wipe the back of your leg off with your hand. This was an okay solution but you could never get the sweat completely off so when you put your leg back down it created a sort of suction effect and then you were just stuck to the damn sofa for life or until someone came and pried you off. Before the slipcovers eventually went away I remember my grandmother trying to keep them on and just put towels over them. Well that was against the whole point because you couldn’t see the “nice and expensive” furniture anymore. I think we have an old photo somewhere of my grandmother’s living room and it looks like aliens or spirits are in the room, you can’t see anything from the glare created when the flash hit the plastic slipcovers and bounced back to take the Polaroid picture.

Needless to say I do everything in my power to not have slipcovers on anything. Whether they’re the new fabric kind or not, I have an aversion to all things covered in slips. But what I discovered is that in a strange way I’ve brought this phenomenon into this century because I find it very difficult when it comes to taking the thin clear piece of plastic they put on any electronic device. Right now I have a piece of plastic covering the face of my iPhone so that my face oils and dirt from my hands won’t mess up the “nice and expensive” phone underneath. I remember when I first got my Mini Cooper there was plastic covering the silver metal that is on the bottom of the doors on the car. I left that plastic on so long that it left marks when I removed it years later. How stupid is that? Pretty stupid but like it or not, I have come to the realization that it was not my fault. The fault clearly lies in my family who taught when I was growing up that “nice” things were to be covered in plastic and not touched, not fully enjoyed or something. I’m sure a therapist would have a field day with this one and that perhaps I do things to protect myself emotionally just like that plastic layer or slipcover. But I just think that it’s about realizing I must be getting old, I finally get what slipcovers were all about – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Know I’m Not The Smartest One In The Room, What Makes You Think That You Are? – Don’t Get Me Started!

When it comes to most things in life I tend to think that I’m undereducated about the subject. Now don’t get me wrong, if it’s about theatre or fashion or why Barbra Streisand did Funny Lady then I’m an expert but other than those and a handful of other things, I know I’m not the smartest one in the room, what makes you think that you are? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Recently I’ve encountered more than one person in “real” life as well as online who seem to have it all figured out. Whether it’s how to stop the oil spilling into the Gulf to the bible, they know it all. Not just a little bit, they know it all. They’re so smart, so sure of what they know and that they’re right that there’s really no room for the rest of us to comment or I guess be alive in their book. What I suspect is that they’re so insecure that they’re afraid that they don’t know something. But if that’s true than why don’t they know how to shut up?

I’ve always admitted that I don’t know anything about geography. I don’t think I ever won a game of Trivial Pursuit simply because I could never get that damned piece of blue “pie” that represented I had answered a geography question successfully. I remember once I was driving from the Detroit airport to a place where I was doing some business and I was on the highway. I didn’t really know where I was going when suddenly I looked up and saw an exit for Canada. I was on the phone with my spouse (who went to college at 16 and usually is the smartest person in any room that just contains the two of us as well as many others) and I said, “Oh my God, there’s an exit for Canada, when did they put that there? I mean, you could make a wrong turn and end up in Canada? I can’t believe it.” My spouse asked me to never repeat that story to anyone but of course I love it. I revel in the fact that there are things I don’t know or understand. Isn’t that what life is supposed to be all about? Learning as we go but knowing that we’ll never figure it all out? Well, that’s my view but apparently it’s not shared with everyone else in the world.

I love when people quote the bible to me when they’re railing against me for stuff like being gay or thinking that I deserve the same rights as straight people. You can’t argue with these people so in most cases it’s best to not even try but they’re so sure that they’re so right and have it all figured out. Now almost everyone will admit that the bible has been interpreted by many so some of what was once written in languages we don’t even readily speak anymore may have been misconstrued over the years. But the bible quoters refuse to even come close to admitting this. They know what they know and they know that God set the laws down so explicitly that they are going to follow it to each letter that is printed in whatever version of the bible they’re reading. They’re right and anyone who brings another interpretation to the table is just wrong, period. Boy they’re smart (eye roll).

I also don’t get people who have to be right for the sake of being right. Even if you prove them wrong, in most cases they’ll state that they didn’t understand the question or that you hadn’t posed the proper argument for them to come to the correct conclusion. They’ll make up a lot of reasons that they couldn’t be wrong and be assured that they are not wrong, were not wrong nor will they ever be wrong. Is never being wrong something to really hang your hat on as a badge of honor?  

I’m very opinionated (no surprise to anyone who reads this blog) but the one thing I’m willing to do is admit when I’m wrong as well as stating over and over again when I just don’t know something. I have no idea how to solve the country’s deficit nor do I even know how a stock or bond work unless you’re talking about theatre summer stock or bonding teeth. And even in those cases I don’t know everything nor do I think I’m right about everything. While I can be very jaded and often look at the world with one eyebrow raised, I don’t think I know everything nor do I think I’m so smart that everyone should listen to everything I say and tell me how smart I am either. In some respects I’m an innocent about a lot of things and while I may lie and say that I read Catcher In The Rye and then just nod and smile as some people discuss it at a dinner party, on the whole I realize how much I don’t know and look at the life as one big two year old who has a petulant streak but is curious to learn what I don’t know about most things. It’s okay to not be the smartest, the fastest, the brightest, as long as you can admit it and know that it doesn’t make you less of a person it just makes you a little less smart than someone else about that particular subject. I know I’m not the smartest one in the room, what makes you think that you are? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Don’t Think I’m A Very Good Community Member – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve never been to a gay Pride parade. I’ve never campaigned for a candidate. I’ve never really done much of anything that could be considered community service for any of the communities to which I belong (list upon request). And although it may be awful to say, I’m okay with it. I don’t think I’m a very good community member – Don’t Get Me Started!

I have to be on every mailing list for every community to which I seem to be affiliated. I get things from the Gay Men’s Health Crisis, the National Holocaust Museum and a million other groups and communities to which I have either made a cash donation or they think I might make one to them. I have used all of their return address labels only feeling slightly guilty that they weren’t getting a check from me at the present time (sometimes they have gotten money from me which is exactly why I keep hearing from them). And while I like being a member of all of these communities, I’m not all that anxious to march or lick envelopes for them and I have to wonder if that makes me a bad member of the community or just one of the lazy ones?

Sure I sign online petitions and I put the various websites and current causes on my website but if someone were to ask me if I could do more I would know in my heart that I could but would know at the same time that I wasn’t really going to do anything more than what I’m currently doing. Some may call it apathy but I think it’s just because I’m not that much of a “joiner.” After all, in the six years I’ve owned my Mini Cooper, the local Cooper club has repeatedly tried to hunt me down and get me to join. They have left little business cards on my window, they’ve actually stopped me coming out of a store and I’m convinced that someday they’re going to show up at my front door with a squeegee threatening me that if I don’t join they’re taking the car away from me. The car club people just seem sort of sad to me. I know, I’m passing judgment but I just can’t help myself. I’m not one of those people who are constantly “tricking out” (does anyone still use that term?) my car so I can’t see joining a club whose members I’m only tied to by the fact that we drive the same make and model of car. I don’t want to ride in some huge (or in this case, Mini) convoy of Minis to the Grand Canyon or something. Ugh, the thought makes me nauseous.

Recently I was getting up to seven calls a night from some unknown number. I eventually picked up the phone to discover that it was one of the organizations that supports one of the communities that I’m supposedly a member of because I sleep with the same sex. They had been hounding me for days until finally one night at 9:30pm I answered to find that the person on the other end of the phone was very anxious to talk to me about why I needed to show my “support” immediately. About sentence three I was able to get in a word edgewise as he was finishing one of his words that ended with an “S” and was losing his breath or had gas escaping from the sound of it. “Look” I began, “I’m more than willing to help your organization when I can and if you pull up your records you’ll see that but at this present time I can’t make a donation nor can I stand the seven to nine calls a night I get from your organization. So please let me not waste your time or mine, you can mail me whatever you want but put me on a list to not be called anymore, okay?” There was a brief silence and then, “Sssso, can I ssssay that you’re going to make a donation in the amount of $50 and I’ll send the paperwork via the mail to you?” More than a little incensed I continued, “You can send me whatever you want by mail but as I told you, there is no way I’m committing to giving you any money at this current time so do not under any circumstances put me down as having made a commitment to you for anything at this time. Should you do this your organization will never receive another dime from me and I will return all of your mailers so that the postage money will be wasted too. Have I made myself clear enough for you?” “I’ll put you on the do not call list but please take a moment to take a look at the information we’ll be sending you via mail and give a donation.” Click went the phone and it has not rung from them every since.

Someone once said, “I love the human race, it’s the people I can’t stand.” What I find more and more is that it’s not only the people who want me to be a second class citizen or suddenly become a “boob” man it’s my own damn communities too. I don’t want to send you $50 because you send me greeting cards with art on them from children from the concentration camps. Who would send a depressing card like that to begin with, perhaps you should send images of people being liberated or something a little more joyous? I don’t want to march in a parade, drive my Mini in a line of cars or pledge money when gays bully me on the phone at 9:30pm. If that makes me anti-social well, okay I’m anti-social and you know what? I think I can live with the fact that I don’t think I’m a very good community member – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I’m All For Coloring Outside The Lines But Not When It Comes To Parking People – Don’t Get Me Started!

I sort of feel as though this blog was needed a few decades ago and that it shouldn’t be needed at this point. Sort of like people allowing their kids to litter. I feel as though we’ve all learned that lesson all ready but apparently not. Recently I watched as a parent watched their ten year old just throw their McDonald’s bag out of the car where it landed in the parking lot. The parents didn’t seem to be saying anything to their kids and it wasn’t long after I saw the bag belonging to the parents go out of their window and then they pulled out of the parking lot sipping on their enormous sized drinks which would no doubt find their home by the side of the road when they had finished gulping from their biggest of gulp cups. Well, apparently there’s still more to say on that issue and at the risk of sounding as if I’m trolling parking lots (which I can assure you that I am not) I am becoming increasingly troubled by the fact that people seem to be getting worse and worse about the simple things in life. You know, like getting their cars in between the lines of parking spaces. I’m all for coloring outside the lines but not when it comes to parking people – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve all ready written about the fact that I don’t understand why everyone feels the need to “back into” their parking spaces. It seems to have become more and more popular over the last few years and it gets on my nerves. Unless you have a front wheel drive vehicle and you’re afraid that there’s going to be a major snowstorm later, I see no need for you to back into parking spaces. The other reason you shouldn’t be backing into parking spaces is that you’re not very good at it. There, I’ve said it. You hold up traffic as you go past the space you’re going to take only to do this wide sweeping curve into the space taking out anything within a five mile radius. Not only that, you always seem to think you’ve done an excellent job and have a sort of cocky delighted look on your face. Once you dismount from your vehicle that is high enough off the ground to need a step ladder to get out of it, you’ve taken everywhere from two to four spaces and you think you did a great job. It doesn’t matter if you’re driving a Hummer or a Hyundai, watching drivers back into parking spaces is like watching skate boarders, they rarely get the trick they’re trying to do. And neither do I.

While I guess we should make concessions for those that are backing in afraid of a snowstorm in mid June in Vegas, no one can explain to me the phenomenon of the people who are actually looking at what they’re doing, heading straight in to a parking space and yet they manage to take their compact car and take up two spaces. I get that perhaps you don’t want a scratch in your paint but if this is the case then park away from the building and get a little exercise by having a little further to walk to get into the Walmart but honestly, that Kia with the one door in primer gray hardly needs two spaces to maintain its exterior beauty. And guess what? If you have a Mercedes I feel the same way. If you really want to protect your car from the evils of the parking lot, being an inconsiderate ass by taking up two spaces isn’t going to make me think you’re a rich important person it’s just going to make me think that you’re an asshole still living with your parents at 45 who took on a $1,200 a month car payment because you don’t have to pay rent or for food because Mommy and Daddy are still taking care of you. If you are in fact wealthy and living in your own digs the whole two parking spaces just makes you an asshole.

I have spent my life looking outside the proverbial box for answers to life’s day to day and big dilemmas but when it comes to certain things I think there’s a reason that there are lines to stay in and parking happens to be one of them. I’m all for coloring outside the lines but not when it comes to parking people – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Who Really Cares About Elton John At Rush Limbaugh’s Wedding? – Don’t Get Me Started!

From the moment I first read about Elton John attending Rush Limbaugh’s recent wedding my eyes began to roll. Never mind that it was immediately followed up with the news that Elton John was “the help” and performed at the wedding for $1M and that people are taking positions on it left and right. The deal is this, it’s not that big a deal, people. Who really cares about Elton John at Rush Limbaugh’s wedding? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Days after the reports of Elton John being at the Limbaugh wedding, there are now reports that Elton John went to the wedding because he’s “about building bridges, not walls.” Ugh. Really Elton John? I get that you have done many humanitarian things in your lifetime and I as well as the rest of the world appreciate all of it but Mr. John, please stop acting as if you’re stopping the flow of oil into the coast when you’re getting paid to sing Benny And The Jets. (Which while we’re on the subject, I think I could win a misconstrued lyric contest with this one as I always thought you were singing, “She’s got electric boobs, her Ma has too!” instead of what the lyric is, “She’s got electric boots, a mohair suit.”) I don’t mind that you went, I especially don’t mind that you got paid but now that you’re acting as if you’re doing something wonderful for the world, you’re starting to get on my nerves. I guess we should look at all the other celebrities who have done so much to “build bridges” too. I don’t know for sure that it’s what George Michael does in every public restroom he goes into  blowing straight guys but from all reports he donates a lot of his time to that effort and builds a lot of bridges or at the very least let’s just say he’s “making new friends.”

I feel the same way about the Elton John at Rush Limbaugh’s wedding situation as when CNN had Perez Hilton on as a guest and called him a “Gay Hispanic Trailblazer.” He’s less of a trailblazer and more of a “tailblazer” chafing the hide and getting under the skin of anyone who is a decent human being. If anything he’s done more to push the gay community back into the gag reflex of every person in the world than blaze a trail for Hispanics or gays. If he’s the face of the gay community then I want some serious cosmetic as well as psychological surgery for our community. Even his latest situation where he posted pics of a 17 year old Miley Cyrus getting out of a car and supposedly exposing her “Hannah Mufftana” that people are now saying he should get prison time for distributing child pornography reeks of his being so full up of his own importance more than anything else. It’s a good thing he loves himself so much because the cheese stands alone on this one. Though he claims nothing was showing in the photo (which he has since removed supposedly) and that he was only doing his job of pushing celebrities’ buttons, I for one am hoping he doesn’t go to prison because it will create all the press he craves and may fill a few more of his cravings that only men who have been without women, men, their right hand or decent options may find attractive in the prison setting.

Celebrities have to stop thinking that their mere presence somewhere is world changing. I love when they get together and do a telethon for say the Katrina victims but just going through your daily life of privilege does not make you a role model, a humanitarian or unwilling to sleep with the enemy for $1M. Someone once said that the only bad press is no press and Mr. John, Mr. Limbaugh, Mr. Hilton, The ex-Mrs. Gary Coleman and others all understand this all too well.

Look, who would seriously turn down $1M for singing a few songs? No one, so good for him for getting paid to do what he gets paid to do but just stop all ready with the acting as if the reason you went was merely to advance gay/bigoted fat white guy relations. We all know you went for the poached salmon. (Big eye roll) Who really cares about Elton John at Rush Limbaugh’s wedding? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Tried, Really I Did But I Can’t Help Myself The 2010 Tony Awards Became Hollywood’s Biggest Night! – Don’t Get Me Started!

As with everything else in my life, I didn’t watch the Tonys until the day after they aired. The whole DVR thing and being able to fast forward through annoying commercials and acceptance speeches makes it an absolute must in my home to not watch anything in real time. I have to admit that while I’m a Tony lover from way back (no surprise there, right) I was not looking all that forward to this year’s broadcast. Why? Because there are so few shows that are up and survived and almost every one of them couldn’t have gotten off the ground without a Hollywood person in the cast. I tried, really I did but I can’t help myself the 2010 Tony Awards became Hollywood’s biggest night! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Growing up in Arizona the closest you could get to Broadway was once a year when those Tony’s would play (or the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade that would show numbers from the current Broadway shows) so even though now I travel to New York at least once a year and get to the actual Broadway I still have the sense memory of waiting up for that telecast, seeing all the amazing actors enter the building and then giving their acceptances speeches that make me think of All About Eve or the Lunts. I really wanted to like the show, I wanted to love it but as the show progressed my finger kept hitting the fast forward button and I wondered why I had a headache. It was from my face being all scrunched up in disbelief that this was the best that Broadway had to show us this year and wondering where the talented Broadway actors were and why they didn’t seem to be represented.

I get it, like everything else, theatre is a business and needs to make a profit so unless they get some big names that are big names all over the globe over the marquee it’s going to mean that the show has to be seen and accepted for its merit (yikes, too scary for most). That’s increasingly difficult when ticket prices continue to soar. So would you go see an unknown playwright’s work with actors whose names you don’t know or for the same money would you head on over and watch Scarlett Johannson? No surprise that most choose the latter. And while Broadway and theatre in general used to sort of look down their collective noses at Hollywood actors (and vice versa), now Broadway gladly opens its heart and beds to get someone who had a blockbuster movie into a show, no matter how miscast they might be for the show. It’s highly likely we’re done seeing Broadway actors that make it big on the bright white way without first having been on a sitcom or come from the London production of something. This is a sad thing. But hey, everything changes, right?

I thought that Sean Hayes did a fine job as host of the evening but between the Green Day rock concert and the lousy (there I said it) production numbers from the current Broadway offerings it just ended up being a show about how many people they could cram on the stage to accept each award. Honestly, it was like they were kids trying to see how many people could fit in a phone booth. I don’t ever recall seeing thirty people trudging onto the stage to pick up the best play award. Meanwhile, once again, the technical awards were not televised again which I think is a huge insult. Trust me when I say the person who won for best sound was most likely cringing at the horrible sound presented on the telecast and how rude to have things like the scenic and costume awards unseen because they weren’t made by Catherine Zeta Jones or Miley Cyrus who will no doubt be on Broadway next year in a musical version of a Lifetime Movie.

And as much as I like Glee, the fact that they had to choose two actors who are not currently on Broadway to do numbers on the show tells a lot. Did they think that the kids who watch Glee weren’t all ready watching the Tonys? Trust me, if the kids who watch it are anything like the characters on the show, they were all ready watching. But to add time to a show for no reason other than to pander to possibly getting more people who are probably all ready watching the show seems stupid to me. I would have much preferred to see a scene from the plays that were up for awards instead of the actors having to come out and talk about their characters as if they were doing a book report for class.

I know, Broadway has changed since the time I went and saw Evita and A Chorus Line but does everything have to be Mama Mia with an all Hollywood cast? I’m waiting for a musical using only Beyonce songs and Forty Year Old Virgin the musical, I’m sure they’re both in the works. But as much of a relic as I may be, I’m not ashamed to say that I hold out hope that there are people out there writing amazing Broadway plays and musicals, they just happen to only be able to get funding enough to be produced in regional theatres! So support your regional theatres and here’s hoping next year my boyish excitement is warranted for Tonys 2011! I tried, really I did but I can’t help myself the 2010 Tony Awards became Hollywood’s biggest night! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Don’t Know What I’m Getting Him But Rest Assured My Father Will Not Be Getting A Jockstrap For Father’s Day! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I get that when you buy something online they immediately want to put you on their emailing list. I also get that they barrage you with emails whenever there’s a holiday weekend touting their unbelievable two hour free shipping totally insane blowout pricing as a way to try and get you to buy everything that they’re selling. So no surprise that recently I’ve been receiving emails full of sales for Father’s Day and the one that stopped me dead in my tracks was the one from International Jock, underwear and more to the point jockstrap company. Yes, I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve purchased and enjoyed their products but I couldn’t help feeling really weird and dirty when they wanted that to be my Dad’s gift for the upcoming Father’s Day holiday. I don’t know what I’m getting him but rest assured my father will not be getting a jockstrap for Father’s Day! – Don’t Get Me Started!

When the first email came in about the sale of underwear and jockstraps for Father’s Day I thought that it was odd. I mean, unless you call your partner “Daddy” (and there are plenty that do) the thought of buying one’s parents underwear just seems like a place I don’t ever want to go. Then I started doing my usual reasoning and rationalizations. Maybe kids are different today and this is what they get their dads instead of the standard ugly tie? Maybe because everyone’s working out (even though we’re more obese than we’ve ever been) this is the perfect gift for a Dad who is committed to getting back into shape? After all, my own father started back to the gym recently but no, I don’t care how you try to make me “cool” with this, I’m just not. You can’t make me think about buying my Dad jockstraps for Father’s Day, you just can’t. So just when I had wrestled with that demon from the original email I received another email from the International Jock people, now they want me to buy “enhancing underwear” for my Dad. Now for those of you who don’t know what this means, this is padded crotch and in some cases padded ass underwear. ARGHHHHHH! Does it come along with five free sessions at a therapist too? Because that’s the only way I’d be able to make that purchase.

Maybe if my Dad looked like the models on the many web pages of this site with their flat stomachs, tanned bodies and filling out of Speedos…stop, no, I just can’t make it right. In fact it almost seems like something the Religious Right might use for an argument to not let gays have kids or parents. “Your honor, the children actually bought their “Dads” (big sneer in voice) padded jockstraps for Father’s Day. I have to wonder if even seeing these types of catalogs that promote the gay lifestyle and agenda are appropriate for the children to be exposed to let alone the fact that they made purchases from it. It’s clear that these “Dads” are only trying to indoctrinate their children into a lifestyle that will be emotionally and physically damaging to them. I recommend that they be sent to live with their closeted uncle and low self esteem aunt in Canada.”

The thing is that I’m still a Jew and I can’t resist a good sale. So while I won’t be buying for my father, I’m just saying that the old International Jock catalog will most likely get an order from me this holiday with their 25% off Calvin Klein and more. Marketing works, we all know that and I’m living proof as my home is filled with many an “As seen on TV” item which by the way is probably more likely to end up being a gift for my Dad than underwear. Somehow I feel better about buying him the upside down tomato plant or Shamwow as opposed to underwear. Am I alone on this one? I don’t think so. I don’t know what I’m getting him but rest assured my father will not be getting a jockstrap for Father’s Day! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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So You Think You Can Dance Boys? Watch Baryshnikov And Get Back To Me! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Another season of So You Think You Can Dance has begun. While I’ve watched almost every season, this one promises to be that turning point where the phrase, “the show has jumped the shark” came from in the television industry. This phrase originated when the show Happy Days had reached a point where the show had lost its audience and original appeal and so they had Fonzie jump a shark, that’s how desperate the show was to get ratings. Well my dears, I fear that So You Think You Can Dance has possibly jumped that shark this year. With the change in judges (relying only on judges who care more about the sound of their own voices than the kids out there killing themselves), bringing back “all stars” from seasons past so that you don’t know who you’re supposed to be looking at and finally because everything has a sunrise and a sunset, I think this may be that sunset year for this show. And while the kids who make up the show are more than talented, a recent watching of the classic dance movie, The Turning Point started me thinking. So you think you can dance boys? Watch Baryshnikov and get back to me! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I wonder how many people stop to think about how all of our worlds change as time moves on. Sure as the sports heroes get bigger and stronger (whether it’s due to steroid injection or not) we hunger to see them do more, be bigger and better. The same is true of the dance world. If you watch these kids defying gravity at every turn and turning six hundred times to then stop and throw their leg up in the air as if someone has rendered time still you see that getting bigger and better is not just reserved for baseball players arms (and foreheads). No, the dance world has changed too.

During the recent winter Olympics the cameras caught Peggy Fleming in the audience next to Dorothy Hamill watching the skaters as they broke new ground (or ice in this case) and records creating the history and records that may be broken tomorrow by the next group of skaters. And yet I couldn’t help but think what I would give to see the artistry of Peggy Fleming as opposed to a triple lutz. Yes, the sport has progressed but some of its artistry has been lost. I wonder if football, baseball and basketball enthusiasts feel the same way about their sports. I’ll bet some do.

I got to watch Baryshnikov dance live twice during his career. I remember that when he walked on the stage you just knew. You knew he was a dancer from the way he carried himself but there was something more there, so much more. It didn’t matter that I was so far away in the hall watching him, the way he would just do the slightest move of his shoulder evoked emotion in everyone in the room. Everyone sat a little closer to the front of their seats as he danced. He was dancing for a room of thousands and yet he seemed to be dancing for us individually as well. Sure, he was leaping higher and turning more times than his predecessors but there was something more, some sort of star quality that can’t be manufactured by camera angles or even close ups, his charm left the stage like some sort of magic dust that got into the soul of everyone watching. That’s what happens with live theatre at its best and he was always theatre. Whether he was dancing the classics or a modern piece, he was theatre at its best. I remember in one of the shows they lifted the curtain and just let you watch the dancers warm up before the show. The stage littered with ballet barres and dancers all just stretching yet you could see dance coming out of every pore along with the sweat. It was almost as electrifying as the performance to see these dancers preparing for the night ahead. Amazing.

Do I think these kids who are on So You Think You Can Dance are amazing? You bet. Am I jealous? A little. But some things don’t necessarily get better with the next generation, they just get different. If you asked me right now who I’d rather see, one of the kids on So You Think You Can Dance or Baryshnikov, Baryshnikov would win hands down. Sure, all art is subjective and a lot of it has to do with where I was emotionally at the time I saw Baryshnikov dance but some of it is that he was one of the most amazing dancers this world has ever seen and always will be. I hope the dancers today know who Baryshnikov is and I also hope that some of them are learning about the history of dance as much as they’re learning to do the seemingly impossible feats that they do. Because like everything in life, if you don’t know where you come from, you don’t know how to appreciate what you’ve achieved. So you think you can dance boys? Watch Baryshnikov and get back to me! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Facebook Is The Neediest Girlfriend I Never Had!  - Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve ranted about people sending me requests to help them on Facebook with their farms, their Mafia Wars or trying to start a snowball fight with me via the Internet. While I’m on Facebook daily and enjoy seeing what (most) of my friends are up to, these types of applications just get on my damn nerves. Now there’s a new rash of stupid “likes” that people are putting on their Facebook pages that prove that Facebook is the neediest girlfriend I never had! – Don’t Get Me Started!

“I feel sad today please LIKE me to make me happy” – yes, this is just one of the newest line of needy attention getters from people on Facebook. Are you serious? I didn’t think I had anyone who was STILL in high school on my Facebook page but apparently I only accounted for chronological age and not emotional age. While I was one of the three people in the world who felt that Sally Field’s Oscar speech of, “You like me, you really like me” was adorable and heartfelt the same cannot be said for the above phrase that is appearing on more than a few of my Facebook friends. I want to slap them across the face like Cher did to Nicholas Cage in Moonstruck and proclaim, “Snap out of it!”

Look, as a gay man it’s taken me almost all of my forty-something years to get my self esteem to where it should be but one thing I always was smart enough to know was to not let my slip nor my lack of self esteem show. I can’t think of anything more of a turn off (speaking of friends or lovers) than needy. Sure we all can be needy at times but let’s do that after you’ve established you can stand on your own two feet shall we? Posting the fact that you’re a needy person is about as much fun to read as how your bowel movements are going, seeing that you “checked in” at the gas station where you also have gas from the burrito you purchased there or some sappy “life affirming” phrase you read on a Flavia card in 1982.

I like reading people who have something clever or funny to say on their Facebook status or wall as it were. It lets me feel as though I know what my pals in foreign lands as well as different states are doing but this new line of needy notices has got to go people. I can only imagine how far this neediness will go and frankly it makes me not throw up a little bit in my mouth but full on puke.

There’s a little phrase that people used to use back in the day and I think more people need to start using it today, “pull yourself up by your bootstraps!” I don’t care if it’s your bootstraps, your wonder bra or your jock strap just get a hold of yourself people and start being responsible for yourself. I can’t take care of one more person, animal or bad driver texting in front of me so please don’t think that I’m going to put on a digital cheerleading costume to make you feel better about yourself on Facebook! Two bits, four bits, Get Away From Me If You Wallow (in self pity)!

I know, I’m a gay, I’m supposed to be sensitive. And for the most part I am but sometimes I think tough love is the better road to take. So here it is. Stop it people. Stop with all the neediness and begging for attention from people you haven’t seen in twenty years since high school and your kid’s soccer coach. It doesn’t make you attractive in the least and let’s face it, while your online presence can, like a photo be photoshopped to not show your imperfections, when you throw your needy all out there, don’t be surprised if you suddenly find yourself with a  few less “friends” or less access to the stuff on their Facebook pages. Facebook is the neediest girlfriend I never had! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Beware Of The GAYze! – Don’t Get Me Started!

So last night I’m coming out of my Zumba class (a Latin fitness class that dear God, makes me laugh much more than it probably ever gets me in shape – you can see that video here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GT7vtWRu0Q) so I’m walking out of the class and the participants of the next class are filing in as we are filing out. There is a guy who is about six four or so towering over everyone and as I’m going out the “out” door, he’s coming in the “in” door and we happened to make eye contact. Before a second could pass he immediately breaks eye contact and begins rubbing on the girl in front of him as he rushes her into the room. I don’t know if he thought he’d turn into a pillar of salt or something or maybe catch “the gay” from eye contact but one thing was sure, he was very worried. Beware of the GAYze! – Don’t Get Me Started!

While I will admit that I have been the victim of the gay eye contact that lasts too long until you’re more than a bit uncomfortable, the above experience was not one of them. I don’t know when it all started but I do know that it is not uncommon for gays who are seeking other gays to make an eye connection first as a way to lead to a love connection. I think back in the days before such scientific crap like gaydar was known (yes, I’m kidding) eye contact was one of the few ways to tell if someone was not only gay like you but also to find out if they were interested. That said there are some of us on this earth who believe that eye contact is a courteous thing. While still others believe the eyes are the windows to their soul and they don’t want all that many people looking into their souls.

In the case of the guy at the gym, for me it was just sort of odd that a simple thing like eye contact could make someone so uncomfortable. At first I was sort of offended because all that I had intended to do was to do a head nod in a sort of “what’s up” kind of way, believe me when I say nothing more. But then I started thinking that eye contact could be sort of a super power. If we gays could somehow harness our amazing laser like accuracy for making eye contact with other gays to form The LeaGAY of Justice and make straight people so nervous that they want to get away from us as soon as possible instead of beating us up we could become more powerful than the blacks who people cross the street to get away from simply because they’re black! Why not take advantage of the stupidity of people who are stupid and think this way? Wonder Twinks Activate!

Eye contact has always been very important to me. I’ve never trusted anyone who couldn’t make eye contact with me. In fact I’m such a Scorpio that if I ever am truly done with you, you’ll know by the way I stop making eye contact with you all together. I do it without even thinking about it or realizing it at this point. If you’ve crossed me in some way that I find reprehensible, I feel as though you don’t deserve the respect of my eye contact. Yes, eye contact is that significant to me. However, I don’t try to use it as some sort of gay man making device nor does every time I make eye contact with someone does it lead to a blow job in an alley. So relax guys, you’re safe.

Like most things in this world I think that fear causes us to do some crazy things. I’m not convinced that the people trying to hold onto their precious marriage for heterosexuality and God’s sake aren’t just afraid and so they’re doing their best to legislate against that which they are afraid of instead of really believing their whole argument that gays marrying will end civilization as we know it. They don’t have to admit they’re afraid if they just say they think it’s wrong and get a law passed to make sure that it can’t happen. But the problem is that passing a law doesn’t make the fear go away or even a Pastor like Ted Haggard with his drug fueled gay prostitute scandal from staying married and starting a new church. Late at night these homophobes have a lot of fear that they must take a lot of Ambien and Xanax to get rid of but they’ll never get rid of it. History has shown that more often than not, those that doth protest too much are really just afraid someone is going to find out they’re exactly what they’ve been protesting about. The people who are comfortable in their own skin make the eye contact, nod their heads and move on. Still, after this whole experience I’m really thinking about those super power stares and tried to perfect mine this morning when I was shaving. Turns out I look a lot more like Charles Manson than I thought! Beware of the GAYze! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I’m Dropping Out Of The Cell Phone Race – Don’t Get Me Started!

I remember when I had my little Nokia phone that was red, small and would get so hot next to my skin that I was sure I was going to have cell phone survivor numbers burned into my cheeks. I called it “My Little Cancer Stick” but how I loved it. As time moved on I got on the “Crackberry” and then weaned myself off of it and onto the “Smartphones” from there it was iPhone all the way baby. I didn’t love it, in fact I didn’t even like it (watch the video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yt6CtqObhHk) but it didn’t stop me from upgrading to the iPhone 3GS. Now Apple is putting out yet another version of the iPhone that so many people are lining up for like they’re waiting to buy tickets for a Doobie Brothers concert in 1978. Well, it’s official, I’m dropping out of the cell phone race – Don’t Get Me Started!

To say that I hate my iPhone is perhaps too strong. In fact I love it for everything accept for the phone part. In Las Vegas I go through a zone everyday that I call “The Dead Zone” where the phone always cuts out. In this day and age when there are satellites on top of satellites if anyone can explain to me why AT&T has “Dead Zones” even in major cities I’d love to hear the story. I’ve had more calls fail than relationships on the damn thing and while I was once enamored with the way that the screen would change its orientation depending upon the way I was holding it I spend more time now flicking my wrist as if I’m going to make a magic trick happen to get it to the correct orientation, in short I’m no longer enamored with this feature as well as many of the other ones.

Everyone else in my office got Droids from Verizon (which did you know that Lucasfilms has the copyright on the word, “Droid?”) and they love them. They love to tell me how much better it is than the iPhone, how many more things it can do and how I’m living in a world so out of date that I may as well be wearing shoulder pads and parachute pants.

I’ve always like gadgets, in that respect I guess I’m not unlike most men and a lot of women. I like to call myself a Bitechual. And while I’ve been through a lot of cell phones since they came out I think the fact that you are completely now tied to one leaves me wanting less out of the phones and more out of real life.

When that phone dings that something has been posted on Facebook or a text has come in or an email or anything else, I immediately stop, drop, roll and do whatever it takes to get to the phone to respond as quickly as possible. It doesn’t matter if it’s work related, play related or life related. There is no longer the luxury of saying, “I didn’t get your message the machine at home isn’t working right.” Sure, you can say it but everyone knows you’re lying. Yes, while the phones may cut out on you or cause a myriad of other problems like causing you to swerve into oncoming traffic while you’re trying to answer it and drive at the same time (forgive us all Mother Oprah, we know not what we do) the texts, emails and voicemails come through and keep coming all day and all night.

I love the convenience of having of a cell phone but the fact that I have to carry it with me wherever I go (thank God, we got over wearing them in holsters from our belts like IT lesbians). I’m tired of constantly wiping the face of the phone off from the oils of my face on anything that is nearby, from a shirt to a pant leg to someone else’s shirt or pant leg. And going through the panic that I’ve left it somewhere when I can’t hold it or see it every second of every day.

Maybe I’m showing my age that I no longer want to keep up with the Jones’ or that I don’t feel the need to be one of the cool kids and have the latest phone as my overpriced accessory. Maybe that’s the key to the whole economic thing. Maybe we’ve gotten so out of control, living beyond our means that we actually think it’s a “deal” to get a phone for $299 (or even the new price of $199 for the latest iPhone) that is great for everything but when used as a phone. We all need to start living within our means and so here’s my small step. I’m sticking with the iPhone 3GS, will not be upgrading (and I love that there are some people who are all excited that AT&T have made their renewal date earlier so that they can get the iPhone and only pay an additional $18 in addition to the $199 for the phone – hello, Mr. Potato head it’s called marketing and ripping you off by getting you to sign a new two year contract and no longer giving you unlimited data usage – read the fine print). Call me old fashioned but I long for the days before widespread texting and I even think I’d give up the scrolling with my finger across the screen to have that little red cancer stick I loved so much back again that only made calls, received calls and took messages for me most of the time. Maybe I’m romanticizing but it never dropped a call yet was not so advanced that I couldn’t claim to have not gotten your voicemail. Ah, the good old days. I’m dropping out of the cell phone race – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Never Intended It But I Have Become A Logo Network Junkie – Don’t Get Me Started!

Although this will be difficult for some people to believe, there are some things that are too gay even for me. I know, shocking, right? I remember when my cousin first came out, every third word out of his mouth was “gay” he wanted to wash with gay soap, eat at gay restaurants and talk to gay people about being gay and why the tablecloth was gay. I get it, chalk it up to youthful and admitting who you are to yourself and everyone else exuberance. I’m delighted to say he is now married to a man (they live in England where it’s legal to do such things) and while still very gay oriented, he can actually discuss additional topics. So when I first heard about the Logo Network, a network devoted to programming for gays and lesbians (not to be confused with Lifetime Television for women and gays – the “and gays” part is just implied) I sort of turned up my rather large Jewish nose at the whole idea. Much like being around my cousin in the height of his “gay, gay, gayer than gay” phase I thought it would be non-stop programming of reruns of Will And Grace and the movie the Birdcage. But over a recent weekend with nothing to do I started watching the Logo Network and had a shocking discovery. Although I never intended it, I have become a Logo Network junkie! – Don’t Get Me Started!

Lest you think that the Logo Network is a start up done by three hairdressers and that they get the power to transmit their station from rubbing old feather boas together from past Pride parades, Logo, is part of the MTV Networks. And while I’m sure they don’t receive as much money to produce such classy shows like Jersey Shore, it’s not some small channel trying to make it on its own either, it’s part of a larger community, shall we say.

While I’ll admit that they play reruns of Buffy The Vampire Slayer wayyyy too much for my taste, what I’ve discovered are all the bad gay movies there are out there that I never even knew existed and while I sit there wondering how they got the money to produce them I admit that I get hooked and can’t look away. Some of the movies don’t even make any sense but still have two boys kissing so I guess to some that’s all it needs in it to make sense. The only thing you can be assured of in these movies is that there is going to be a really sensitive guy as the main character and he’s going to get dumped on but he’ll have a bunch of gay pals to get him through before the guy he shouldn’t have been with from the get go comes back to him in the end (realizing the errors of his ways and having changed to be the perfect mate)and we’re all happy about it, even his one closest female friend who no surprise has never found love herself. Occasionally they’ll show a mainstream movie that has a gay or lesbian character in it but mostly they’re just movies that seem to be more like film school projects than actual movies. But God bless them, they’re on the air and they’re getting royalties so good for them.

There is some programming they’ve created for the network like RuPaul’s Drag Race which is a complete hoot. I love it because let’s face it, how life or deathy can being a drag queen really be in this day and age? It’s lots of fun to watch and RuPaul is great. Then there’s the Big Gay Sketch Show which is funny sometimes but like Saturday Night Live, most sketches go on too long but again, God bless them they’re out there trying to make us laugh and we all could use one so good for them for trying. Then there are the comedy showcase specials where they show the gay and lesbian comedians. These are great because it’s sort of like watching the comedy shows on HBO in the 1980’s. Not all of them are good and some are really not good at all but it doesn’t feel as slick as the new comedy showcases you see on television or a show like Last Comic Standing so I like it.

Meanwhile I don’t care if it was in Spanish (as I don’t speak Spanish) I’d watch it like an old woman watches her novellas. I’ve gotten completely hooked on reruns of the no longer filming show, Noah’s Arc, the story of a bunch of black gay pals living and loving in LA. When you watch this show it really isn’t all that different from say a Desperate Housewives or Brothers And Sisters. I’m sure if someone else came in and started watching it, they’d be like “What is this? Ugh, the acting is awful.” You know, just like you used to say to your mother when she was watching her “stories” before you got hooked on whether or not Marlene Evans was herself or her twin sister on Days Of Our Lives and couldn’t miss an episode.

So while I’d like to think that I’m diverse in my television watching, the truth of the matter is that like most things, we gays know how to entertain just a little better than the straightees. So yea for Logo and the only thing it’s missing is a show starring me but I’m working on it…Logo are you listening? I never intended it but I have become a Logo Network junkie! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Opinions Are Indeed Like Assholes, I’m Really Just Concerned With My Own – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know there are times in our lives when we need some sort of expert advice but on the whole I think that people have way too many opinions about way too many things. I try to preface any opinion I’m going to give with a  “from what I understand” because let’s face it, in this day and age no one reads an entire news story all the way through online so really, in most cases your opinion has been formed by the first 500 words or so that you’ve read on the topic. And if you’re like me, you don’t go seeking several articles online to compare the stories and decide what’s seems truthful and what isn’t, you just go with that first article you read and in a lot of cases you suddenly think you’re an expert yourself. Well I’m here to tell you that you are not and while I think listening to people with different opinions other than your own can be useful and mostly entertaining, the more I experience life and the more I grow up (despite my inner Peter Pan kicking and screaming all the way) I’ve discovered that opinions are indeed like assholes, I’m really just concerned with my own – Don’t Get Me Started!

I cannot believe all of the crap that people write in to me on this website. Some of it brings a smile to my face like when I discover that someone has literally laughed out loud reading something I wrote or has been moved but these comments are fewer than the ones where people tell me that I’m wrong for thinking what I think or that I’m going to hell for being a homosexual. I usually don’t let the negative comments get to me as they’re almost always misspelled or make little to no sense. (Never mind that the person typing to me seems to have never had to take a class where they taught punctuation) One of my all time favorites came in recently on one of my video blogs. It was just two words, “twat fag” now while some people might think that this was a slam of epic proportions to me, I just laughed and then started thinking what that could possibly mean? Hmmm, twat meaning the “female genitalia” and fag meaning “gay.” Oh my god, they think I’m a lesbian! J

The people who get me are the ones who go on and on quoting the bible to me and a recent person wrote in to tell me that homosexuality is a “behavior” and not really something your born with like green eyes or being black so they suggested (rather strongly) that for the sake of civilization and for Jesus that I choose not to “do” the “behavior” and equated giving me as an “acting homosexual” rights of marriage and equality in this country like the ability to serve in the military, etc.  is really just like giving an alcoholic a drink. It would condone and encourage me to continue down a path that doesn’t make sense from the standpoint that God made man and woman to fit together to procreate, blah, blah, blah. (Though she’ll need to explain the blow jobs and anal sex to me because it would seem to me that everything fits together like the correct puzzle pieces being put together and when you do this correctly, when you’re done it looks just like the picture on the box!) I guess she didn’t want to “enable” me so she suggested I stop the behavior and get going with my God wants me to bang pussy behavior which to her was the natural progression of God’s handiwork. Really?!? I mean, really?!? Then explain to me why I’ve been attracted to people of my same sex since birth. I don’t think that God is giving me a “test” he’s only administering to one in ten people on the planet. And what’s more I don’t believe that your truth is the only truth out there in the world for everyone, lady. Sure you claim to have a personal relationship with Jesus and I’m sure he tells you things that he doesn’t tell the rest of us during your “personal” times but that could be a lot like when I was a kid and played with the Quija board with my neighbor. He was moving the pointer the entire time much like you telling yourself stuff that you claim Jesus is telling you.

I don’t think everyone in the world should be Jewish like me or gay like me but I sure as hell don’t think that everyone needs to believe in the big JC or whatever the church is that has the most money to sell their message to the people. I get it, you want to live your life according to a book written a thousand years ago by men, not God, men so have at it and enjoy yourself. Honestly, I won’t complain about it until you tell me that it’s the way I have to live too because misery loves company. I want to live my life according to my life experiences, making mistakes and having successes and having opinions about all of it. Sure I want to believe in the teachings of those who came before us but I also want to exercise my God given right to come to my own conclusions. So feel free to write into me and tell me all about what you’ve interpreted from a book that was written a bazillion years ago and how you’ve used it to guide your life. Good for you. But don’t expect me to fall in line with you simply because your opinion is the only one that you think counts. You need to know that opinions are indeed like assholes, I’m really just concerned with my own – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Sometimes I’m Able To See The Big Picture And It Isn’t At All What I Had In Mind – Don’t Get Me Started!

I never read the book, “The Secret” and I have to admit that I don’t really get how people can say, “Follow your passion” when there are bills to be paid and cat litter boxes to be emptied but sometimes I’m able to see the big picture and it isn’t at all what I had in mind – Don’t Get Me Started!

I think it’s easy to say you’ve always envisioned yourself creating underwear that makes people look slimmer and I sit in awe of the people who have this type of vision and stick to it until suddenly they’re an infomercial and living in a mansion. But for those of us who don’t have a focus that is so laser specific it’s a little harder. I like to think of my life as a series of short attention span theatre one act plays. I don’t think I’m in need of medication and I can get pretty focused when I’m trying to figure out why there’s no sound coming out of the computer or something but when it comes to those big life goal things, there seems to be a lot of shiny things constantly vying for my attention.

I started out in my life wanting to be a big star. I wasn’t sure exactly what stars did or what you had to do to be one but I knew I wanted to be one. Stars seemed to get a lot of attention and people thought they were special (in a good way) and I wanted in on all of that not to mention the clothes, the cars and a few “C” words I wouldn’t understand until I was a little older. I remember rehearsing in the family living room. I would spend hours rehearsing how I would enter the stage and how I would take my bow and in retrospect it shows that I really had no idea what a star was because had I known I would have spent more time rehearsing what happened between the entrance and the bows. But I looked at Mickey Rooney in the old movies or Joel Grey and I thought, “I could do that, I could be that.” Again, I had no idea how these people had worked at their craft from an early age I just knew that they were short like me and it gave me hope.

From the time I was six years old into my late thirties I worked in theatre and for awhile there I even said things like, “I just want to be a working actor.” When in reality my walls were lined with photos of old movie stars and my black and white themed bedroom was complete with a director’s chair with my name on it. Sure I did a reading from Puck in Midsummer’s Night Dream for my classical piece when auditioning but again, I was playing Mickey Rooney in the movie version with little regard for “The Bard” or “The Work” that all of my actory friends were talking about as they dressed in all black studying Brecht. (Black made me think more of Fosse, Liza Minnelli in Cabaret with green fingernail polish winning an Oscar than on Brecht.)

Along the way I directed, I choreographed for places as diverse as Disneyland to Virginia Opera, I coached competitive ice skaters rinkside on their performances, did marketing, sales, became a Director of Training, an Executive Assistant and a host of other things that seem so unrelated and completely related to me all at the same time. And I was passionate about all those things. All shiny things that caught my attention when I guess some would say I should have stayed focused on my “real” passion instead. But you see when you are passionate about everything you do you tend to not necessarily have that one idea for the eighteen hour bra, I think. And I also think you get on people’s nerves if they’re not as passionate as you are about everything.

When I created my website and started blogging it was because I had joined Corporate America and I missed being creative, hearing an audience laugh or applaud and I focused on the entrance (in this case title) of each blog and a good finish (my Mother always said, “they’ll forgive you anything if you have a strong finish”) but in the back of my head I was really thinking, “This is going to make me a star.” It’s been almost four years now that I’ve been blogging and it has not made me a star. But looking back at the blogs I can see that I took some chances, created some real dreck and a couple of masterpieces. Almost every word I wrote I was passionate about so in a way maybe I did follow my passion. Maybe some of us were just meant to be a little good at everything we did because of our endless passion instead of exceptional at one specific goal or thing.

Sometimes when I have a moment of clarity, I see my big picture is more of a mosaic than a still life that everyone can appreciate and enjoy as they pass it in a gallery. Maybe not everyone will see my work, maybe my work is actually more rare than I thought or won’t increase in value until I’m dead but as I get older I’m coming to terms with the fact that stars you’re seeing right now really burned out eons ago yet we can still see their light, their passion and the universe that holds the stars in the heavens is vast (even more vast than the Internet). So I remain hopeful and think, “Looking down you’ll never see me, try the sky ‘cause that’ll be me!” (I’m The Greatest Star lyrics by Jule Styne – Funny Girl) Sometimes I’m able to see the big picture and it isn’t at all what I had in mind – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I Admit It, I Watch Really Bad Romance Movies Again And Again – Don’t Get Me Started!

I know that admitting this on a website is a bad idea before it even begins but somehow in my mind I feel as though, like an alcoholic, if I admit I have a problem it will be the first step in fixing the problem. I admit it, I watch really bad romance movies again and again – Don’t Get Me Started!

Lest you think I’m watching something like a television movie version of a Jacquline Susann novel, although I admit I’ve watched my share of The Valley of the Dolls, no I’m hardcore into the really stupid romance movies that are normally reserved for teens and the image of a single woman in her forties with seventeen cats. As I’m writing this I am watching (breathe, deep breath) I am watching, on DVD that I own (come on Scott, you can do it…inhale green, exhale blue) The Mirror Has Two Faces. Yes, that’s right. Even a gay should be embarrassed about sitting around on a weekend watching The Mirror Has Two Faces. It’s not even worthy of the Barbra Streisand gay man’s collection. If you’re watching Funny Girl or even Nuts, you’re allowed but you get into The Mirror Has Two Faces territory and you’ve got serious problems. This movie is awful (though it does have an amazing scene with Lauren Bacall that never ceases to amaze me and the ability of actresses from an era of when actresses were really actresses). The movie is not good and yet there’s a part of me that loves every minute of it. No matter how awful, no matter how much I realize that I’m all ready in love and in a real and healthy relationship, there’s something about watching this sort of sappy insipid movie that sugar coats my senses and transports me like only a bad romance movie or Star Wars can.

At first I believed that I watched these movies because I just happened to land upon them when channel surfing and stayed too long at the fair as it were, watching these bad movies from start, sometimes middle, sometimes almost over to end. That’s easy enough to convince yourself of the way that cable plays movies over and over again. But when I found myself scouring the channel guide for What A Girl Wants (a simply stupid movie about a young girl who goes to meet her father, a British Lord and ends up becoming a lady herself and falling in love with a Commoner) I knew I had serious problems. The good news is that I’m getting help. While I have The Mirror Has Two Faces in my DVD collection I can promise you that I do not have and WILL not have What A Girl Wants in my collection. I’ve managed to stop myself and I think that’s a big success story right there.

I think a lot can be learned from looking at your past. I realize now that while I had the need to own movies like, An Affair To Remember and Now Voyager, I convinced myself that this was just my obsession over old movies and not necessarily sappy romance movies. After all, I have comedies and dramas in my collection as well. I have musicals, I have well, okay, I have a lot of movies. Arghhh, maybe that’s another obsession that I need an intervention for too! But you see I was an actor and director at one point and I’m just one of those people who love watching a movie over and over again (like a four year old) because there are subtleties that I think you find when you watch a movie more than once that can be missed on say the first or thirty-first time in the watching. Oh dear God, I’m in trouble.

If it was all Citizen Kane or even Gone With The Wind I might feel better about it but let’s face it, with movies like The Mirror Has Two Faces even I have to question my own taste. We all can’t read Shakespeare or quantum physics in our spare time, some of us are just doomed to watch bad movies and like it. And I’m one of them. I admit it, I watch really bad romance movies again and again – Don’t Get Me Started!

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When Someone Uses The Word, “But” In A Sentence They’re About To Negate Everything They Said Before It! – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I was a younger gay I may have been interested in “butts” but as time goes on I find that I’m simply amazed at the amount of people who use the word, “but” in a sentence to get out of what they’ve done or said or about to do or say. I never realized how much that one tiny word could become a “get out of stupidity card” for some but see the deal is that I’m onto all of you and you can peddle it someplace else because it’s not going to work on me. When someone uses the word, “but” in a sentence they’re about to negate everything they said before it! – Don’t Get Me Started!

The first “but” that seems quite popular is the one people use during an apology. It normally goes something like this, “I’m sorry that I smashed your car but you see I didn’t think you were going to stop short like that” immediately the excuse has been put into play. Never mind that it was your responsibility to maintain control of your vehicle, the point is that you’ve just negated the entire apology and created a scenario where the blame has now been displaced on the person you’ve just hit. Now I used the car example because it has less emotion involved however I can assure you that the word, “but” is used in personal arguments or discussions in every relationship in the world. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to cheat on you but you were never home.” That little word can change the entire situation or so some think but for me I find myself waiting for someone when apologizing to me to use that word. In most cases I think you’ll hear it. And when that happens remember what I’m telling you, they’re not really taking responsibility for their actions. Oh sure, they may be apologizing but as soon as the “but” appears the apology begins to ring more and more hollow. If you’re really sorry for something you’ve done to me a simple, “I’m sorry” will cut it – do yourself and me a favor and don’t continue the sentence.

Recently someone said to me, “I don’t want to be callous but…” there it was, that word. And believe me what came after that “but” was as callous as something akin to what’s on the side of my big toe. Or what about when people say, “I’m not a racist but…” the next words that come out of the person’s mouth will almost always be so racist that you can usually use it as a definition for “racism” in the dictionary. Of course there’s also the whole, “I’m not homophobic but…”and what follows that will help you discover that the person talking to you is so homophobic they secretly think every gay man wants every man that crosses the street in front of them.

So what is it? What is it that makes us think that the word, “but” can somehow makes anything we say or do alright? And believe me when I say that I’m including myself in this whole thing too. Although I have to say that I’m getting better and better about staying away from that word. And let me just say when it comes to someone using the word “but” it makes me suspicious, very suspicious. And take a tip from me, you should be suspicious too.

Here’s the deal, when you do something that is wrong, unless you have psychological problems or something you know it. And when you use the word “but” to excuse yourself from you own actions the only person you’re fooling is yourself (sort of). I’m officially drawing back the curtain on you and those in your life who use this as a way to push responsibility for their actions on others. It may seem like a small thing to you, it may seem as though I’m just going off on yet another nonsensical rant however I ask you to just start listening to the people around you and yourself. Does that apology feel sincere when there’s a “but” in the sentence? I think not. When someone uses the word, “but” in a sentence they’re about to negate everything they said before it! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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