So Long Some Like It Scott…For Now! – Don’t Get Me Started!

The Some Like It Scott website and Don’t Get Me Started blog began in August 2006. I had won an opportunity to be the official blogger for Project Runway’s season 3 on the official website at bravotv.com giving my sassy commentary after each week’s episodes. I received hundreds of comments (good and bad) each week and it even got me an interview at the Style network (turns out that they only wanted to gossip about the show and see if I knew who was going to win that year). The editor I worked with at Bravo offered me an opportunity to have my personal blog and website listed on their sister site because he was sure that I had one and that it was hilarious. I didn’t have a blog or a website but I knew I had hilarious covered. Scrambling and having no experience at all I decided I needed to create a website. I signed up with one of those host your domain, customize the templates and create your own website sites. I did not surface for 72 hours. Again and again I would tweak the look of the top border or the picture on this page or that page. I didn’t have any idea what I was doing but I was convinced that I had to learn enough so as to not make it look some cookie cutter website. As anyone who has ever designed a website will tell you, you’re never “finished” with it, it’s constantly evolving and you’re daily making tweaks to something on it.

In my last blog for Project Runway I was able to mention my site. This brought the first people to my site and in 2006 I was voted as one of the Top Ten Readers’ blogs by The Advocate magazine. Next I was contacted by Paramount Studios to premier the One Night Only video from the movie Dreamgirls on my site before the film was released. The partner of the film’s director had seen my blog in The Advocate and told the film’s Marketing department about me. There was a promise of an interview with the director (which never happened) and I was sent a case of paperback novelizations of the movie and three posters signed by Jennifer Hudson. Next it was email interviews with RuPaul and many up and coming musical artists which I was sure was going to make me the next Mary Hart (except more Jewish looking and not so annoying). I really thought I was moments away from getting the “big call.” You know the one where they want me to start writing for E! or some other network. When everyone in the blogging world went to video blogs, I went too. This I was sure was going to catch Rosie O’Donnell’s eye or at the very least I would go viral on YouTube (the kind of viral where you don’t need an antibiotic). I toiled, I made sure that I was doing reciprocal links from my site to other sites, I was getting my site on blog rolls, and I was sending emails and commenting on news stories with links to my site. All the while working full time and updating the site with a new blog at least five times a week.

This August will be four years of working on the site and unfortunately, I don’t know where blogging is headed next but I think it will need to continue on without me, at least when it comes to daily blogging. I have loved ranting and raving, having people tell me I’m going to hell or that I’ve touched on something that they can relate to, comments good and bad are great to get because as I’ve always said, blogging is a strange experience as unless someone comments you don’t who has read your blog or if they liked it or not. (Basically I could be practicing blogging masturbation where I’m the only one getting anything out of it.) There are more than 900 blog entries, essays and interviews on the site and I’m very proud of all of them. Writing every day has made me a better writer and now it’s time to see if I can’t take the energy I’ve put into this blog and create something more lasting or on the cutting edge of what writing will become. I have several ideas from books to e-books to plays to screenplays. I’m not sure where I’ll head next but I hope that those of you who have followed my blog will come along on the journey with me when the time comes.

The Some Like It Scott website will stay up so if you’ve found me on hubpages or one of the other sites where my blogs are listed and never visited the actual website, here’s your chance. All of the blogs are there so if you’re one of my morning coffee with Some Like It Scott pals, I would suggest you start at the beginning in August 2006 and read a blog a day to wean yourself off of the daily routine. Sure some are about what was going on at the time and may be out of date but for the most part they’re just my take on life.

I want to finish by saying that I appreciate all of the people who have written in to me over the years and I hope you’ll stay in touch. Thank you so much for reading, laughing and crying with me over life and the world around us. As my Mother always says to me, “Keep a sense of humor, it’s critical.”

Again, thank you!

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Once We Gays Get Marriage Rights We’re Going To Need To Redecorate Them (Per Usual) – Don’t Get Me Started!

At this point I can honestly say with the judgment against Proposition 8 and just the way things seem to be going, I no longer feel as though gay marriage rights will be an “if” but rather a “when” – “when we get marriage rights” can now emanate from my lips without me feeling as though I’m lying. Having said that, the more I read about gay marriages, the people having them (including one in my own family) the more I think that once we gays get marriage rights we’re going to need to redecorate them (per usual) – Don’t Get Me Started!

I get why some of us gays are attracted to the wedding as a traditional ceremony complete with fourteen bridesmaids and ushers, because that’s what we’ve seen our entire lives. To you gays who want this, complete with matching tuxedoes, or dresses or puka beads on a beach, I say have at it. But what I never hear anyone talking about is the fact that this “traditional” ceremony may not be right for all of us. For me personally (who is not getting married anytime soon) I find the whole traditional ceremony not for me. So does that make me a traitor to my fellow gays? Absolutely not.

I just feel as though we gays can do better by ourselves by creating our own type of ceremony and way of joining together rather than trying to copy what straights have done for years like some sort of bad Elvis impersonation. Why should we try to put our fabulously well toned peg into a hole that doesn’t fit? (Well, I know some of you boys like to try anything once so I’ll leave it for you to figure out in the alley behind the 7/11 where you met your partner of thirty minutes by the Slurpee machine. And they say romance is dead). What I mean is that we need to go to some sort of “Dare to be different” seminar and figure out exactly how to give the whole gay marriage thing a redecoration that doesn’t just look as if we bought cheap slipcovers for the sofa and a new coffee table book. No, we need to move that furniture out all together and bring in some grand new stuff.

While we’re thinking (let’s face it, while “I’M” thinking) of changing the wedding ceremony for gays I begin to wonder if an idea I had a while ago hasn’t now seen it’s time to arrive on the scene. I think we need a gay religion. There, I’ve said it (again). I’m not sure exactly what we would worship but I know that we would all look great and we’d be tax deductible. If I have to go ahead and be the “Designer” (instead of pastor or priest) of this movement, if I get the calling from my Prada shoes telling me I need to step up and create this religion, so be it. That’s right, we don’t really know how religion started and we sure as hell have no idea how Joseph Smith made up his wacky story that millions of Mormons believe now or how a bestselling author like L. Ron Hubbard managed to take people from Dianetics to what eventually became Scientology, the religion of Scelebrities. So why not a gay religion? Maybe God is speaking to me because I’m Jewish and he knows he can trust me like he trusted Moses. Maybe Gayliness is next to Godliness after all. Maybe, just maybe, I can bring my message to my people without persecution and as much eyeliner as most evangelicals. The one thing I know is that there will be less screaming at the congregation and more singing showtunes to them. The only problem I see right away is that if we ever do any call and response with the congregation (or “ensemble” as they’ll be called) I’m afraid the fire department will be called out time and time again because our sibilant “S’s” will have everyone believing there’s a gas leak in the building. No matter, when the firemen arrive they can do some dancing to a Village People song to bring the crowd to their feet and send them off for a great week. The fireman going a little gay for pay and helping gather donations in their hats, boots and whatever else they have that you can stuff crumpled singles into. Sound too stereotypical? Look at the Catholics, Jews, Mormons and more and tell me what they do for their service isn’t horribly stereotypical? You have to give people a little of what they know before you can get them getting used to new ideas.

New ideas, that’s what we need for the future of our country and the world. We can’t stand by and allow ourselves to join into a world all ready spinning and just go with the flow. No, sometimes we have to stop spinning (to check out the ass of the guy next to us in class) to discover our own sense of calm, self and direction. We have to boldly go where no gays have gone before. We have to make things that actually fit us and are more couture as opposed to buying off the rack. That goes for religion, gay weddings and more. So if you’re thinking of a gay wedding, re-think the white wedding and go for something in a color that doesn’t make the bride/groom/whatever look so fat. Instead of cake, serve mousse (cause it has so many “S’s” in it it’ll be fun to hear your guests say) and finally instead of “I do” say, “Hold my hand and we’re half way there, hold my hand I’ll take you there.” Once we gays get marriage rights we’re going to need to redecorate them (per usual) – Don’t Get Me Started!

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I’m Not  As Worried About The Illegal Immigrants As Much As I’m Worried About The White Trash Americans – Don’t Get Me Started!

You know who they are, they are the ones with the beat up cars with no license plate or probably insurance, smoking cigarettes in the face of their fourteen children of different ages (each fathered by a different father), leaving their Big Gulp in a parking space for you to run over, only to discover that it’s filled with cigarette butts from what would seem like a month but are really from three days in the back of their Ford Escort. They end their poor sentences (when they make complete ones) with prepositional phrases at the end, “I seen him yesterday at that place where you’re at.” Ugh, it sends a shudder down my spine. And in all their unkempt appearance and supposedly lack of funds they seem to manage to have their hair dyed and be on a cell phone. So when it comes to worrying about people who are sucking the system and my patience dry, I’ve found it’s much more about the white trash than it is the illegal immigrants. I’m not as worried about the illegal immigrants as much as I’m worried about the white trash Americans – Don’t Get Me Started!

I can feel you getting uncomfortable all ready. And guess what, I like it. That’s right, we need to realize that all these well to do white “Christian” people who want to get rid of anyone of color in this nation who have deluded themselves into believing that they built this country with their lily white hands need to start to turn the mirror onto their own race for a change. Between the lack of funding for schools and the popularity of American Idol becoming a “career choice,” all of us Americans are getting a little dumber each day and the really bad part is that we’re passing it down to our children. My parents wanted me to be a doctor or lawyer (come on, we’re Jews after all) but what aspirations do the white trash have for their kids? Sure some may put them in “beauty pageants” but that’ll only take them until twenty when I guess they expect them to marry or just have at least six kids by then. Can someone with no education and less drive and determination that a common garden slug really be a good parent? I think not.

So here we go, you knew I was going to get there. I saw a woman get out of her car (throwing litter about as she got out), the cigarette hanging from her mouth and a cell phone attached to her ear as she spewed obscenities to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Her six year old looking child got himself out of the passenger side of the car (right, the kid should have been in the back seat and in a proper seat) and closed the car with a “crunch” as the side of the car had been all plowed into at one point by the evidence of its appearance. As the kid went around the back of the car, almost into traffic, the mother started screaming obscenities to the child about being “f-ing stupid” for walking near traffic. And so I thought, “What kind of life does this child have or will he have as he grows?”

To all of the “Christians” out there who don’t think it’s a healthy environment for a child to be brought up in a home with parents of the same sex, I say get out more often and see what is really raising the next generation and you’ll be begging us gays to take the next generation and clean them up like we did your inner city neighborhoods. We cleaned up cities, creating jobs and increasing property values, what makes you think we’re not going to do that with our children?

Still, to some the real enemies are those Mexicans who come over the border and give birth thus giving birth to an American citizen. Most of these undocumented workers are at least working folks I can’t say the same for the white trash population. Sure, I think that if you work in America, live in America or buy in America you should pay taxes. But I can’t help but think that the politicians behind these immigration efforts are more about their own political gain and helping the white man feel as though there are still more of “us” than there are of “them.” Before we start trying to “clean the borders and their English up” I wish someone would spend a little more time cleaning up the white trash population that seems to be increasing daily. I get that condoms are expensive and another baby means more welfare. And why not have another Nathan Nascar Thompson Jr. to add to your collection of kids if it means more welfare? But at some point we’re going to have to take the education of these white trash kids more seriously and help them out of the scummy world their uneducated and toothless parents brought them into because if we don’t we’re doomed to have The Jerry Springer show become the Sixty Minutes of the next generation. Or has it all ready? I’m not as worried about the illegal immigrants as much as I’m worried about the white trash Americans – Don’t Get Me Started!

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You Got Where You Are Because You Put Yourself There – A Lesson In Responsibility – Don’t Get Me Started!

“If only…” the words that immediately make me cringe and start to get so pissed off I suddenly look like Yosemite Sam with smoke coming out of both ears and a hopping about dance that can only truly be done justice in cowboy boots. I cannot tell you how many people in my life want to play “the victim” and this is something that I not only will not tolerate for myself but have little sympathy for anyone else. I don’t want to hear about the tragic circumstance you’ve gotten yourself into and how you have no idea how you’ll get yourself out of it. I want to hear the triumphant story of how you figured out how to get yourself in the proper headspace to get yourself out of whatever situation you’re in. Enough with the pity parties (before someone makes a reality series out of it) You got where you are because you put yourself there – a lesson in responsibility – Don’t Get Me Started!

Look, I get it, we’re a greedy little bunch who are not satisfied to keep up with the Joneses but also want to have so much more than the Joneses that when they look at us they’ll appear in a lovely shade of emerald green. We can blame Wall Street, the oil spill, big business, not being more “godly” or whatever you want but at the end of the day we create our own destiny based on the choices we make and whether or not we can learn enough from our own mistakes to not find ourselves back in the same position time and time again.

I have always prided myself on the fact that I can grieve over the loss of something (or someone) and find my way through to the other side enough to get on with things. I get that there are some people out there (especially those dealing with family or pet losses) that take longer but I’m not talking about those people. I’m talking about the people who walk around like Eyore, constantly gloomy, just waiting for a reason to have pity upon themselves enough to barricade themselves in their homes for a week eating bag after bag of Oreos and watching Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movies. At some point don’t these people get tired of themselves?

The thing is that the more you give into “being overwhelmed” or “unable to see a solution” the longer it’s going to take you to get to the solution. If you start even with the smallest step toward cleaning the mess that is your life is up, you’ll be amazed how much easier the next step is to take. Pretty soon you’ve cleaned up most of the calamity and thank God for the rest of civilization, you’ve taken a shower and brushed those nasty teeth so we don’t have to smell you.

If you are one of those who are inclined to slide down the depression incline (and are not under a doctor’s care complete with prescription assistance) I would highly recommend that you start by washing the dishes in the sink. You’re the one who left them there so you clean ‘em up. Right, it’s a metaphor. Sure, the soapy water is going to take away a lot of the dirt and grime but sometimes you’re going to have to scrub a little bit to get that dish clean. What you’ll find is that the huge pile of dishes in the sink wasn’t all that difficult to clean, dry and put away. You’ll also discover just how much in denial you were when you see that you have about sixteen plates in there that all had cake on them at one point in the last forty-eight hours (the evidence being the used container in the garbage). You told yourself if you put it on a small plate or didn’t use the same plate that it would make you eat less. Well guess what? You’ve eaten the whole damn thing, so like life, you’ve overindulged and now you need to pay the price. Once the dishes are neatly stacked where they’re supposed to be you’ll find that somehow the kitchen looks more livable again. Your life is no different, get out that soapy water, scrub where necessary, admit to yourself where you’ve gone wrong and then organize yourself like those neatly stacked dishes so that you can begin to restack and rebuild your life.  It won’t be that long before you’re life is more livable again. And the best part? The rest of us won’t have to listen to you whimper and bitch anymore. I’m just sayin’. You got where you are because you put yourself there – a lesson in responsibility – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Ugh, It’s Baseball Season Again! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I bought the Yankees baseball cap at a Target. I liked the distressed look of the logo and I like New York so there you have it. I don’t look good in hats on the whole so finding one that looked okay and had New York represented on it seemed like a big win. (The only hat that has ever looked good on me is Mouseketeer ears, sad when you think about it as where can you really wear Mouseketeer ears, especially after forty?) This Yankees baseball cap is the only one I own and the only one I wear. I wear it on the weekends to go to Starbucks first thing in the morning or when I don’t think my hair (what’s left of it) looks presentable. Having said that, I forgot a long time ago there was a Yankees logo on it, it’s more practical than a fashion statement. And as I’m afraid I’m one of those old fashioned stereotypical gays who knows nothing about sports, I have no idea when the Yankees are playing, where they’re playing, who is on the team or how close they are or aren’t to the World Series. However, while I forget that I’m wearing a team logoed piece of merch, those interacting with me who do not know me at all do not know that I’m not so much not a Yankees fan as much as I’m not a fan of my hair that day, thus the need for the hat. Ugh, it’s baseball season again! – Don’t Get Me Started!

A dear friend of mine (who happens to be straight) has told me for years that I just don’t get how great baseball is as a sport, pastime, American tradition, etc., etc. And while I think I went to a Dodgers game once (it was a company outing) I don’t really remember it nor did I understand what was going on other than being amazed at the frequency of the vendors coming through the aisles to sell you food and beer unless you needed one of the other and then you never saw them. So I don’t have some sort of “incident” that happened to make me dislike baseball and honestly I have nothing against it or any other sport for that matter, it’s just not on my radar, shall we say.

The problem is that because I wear a Yankees hat, people think I’m a fan or know something about it. And it’s not just men, the elderly female teller at the bank stopped me last weekend and wanted to go on and on about how the team was faring, the games that were playing this weekend, some of the players, and on and on she went as I politely smiled and nodded acting as if I knew what we were talking about. Turns out that most people don’t really want your opinion, they just want to open the door so that they can give you theirs. And this teller certainly did that, causing at least a five minute delay in my schedule for the day and a line to form behind me.

I like to give the appearance of being cultured or at the very least well rounded so when the conversation turns to sports I tend to go into acting mode. I take the facial clues from the person talking to me to find out if I should scowl or nod in agreement. I act like I’m taking in every word and basically do an old therapy technique of simply “parroting” them back to get the conversation moving and done. When they ask me, “What do you think of the team this year?” I remark, “I don’t know, what is there to think about really? What do YOU think of them?” Works every time. Whoever asked the initial question has loads to tell me about what they think and eventually I can get my latte or stamped deposit slip and be on my way.

In the last four years or so of wearing the Yankees hat only once (a young male barista at Starbucks) ever said, “So, are you a Yankees fan or just wearing it for the fashion?” “Fashion” was my reply and needless to say he got a big tip and I got a break as he didn’t bother me with his opinion of the team’s current state which he obviously had ready in his arsenal should I have answered differently.

I guess the main thing is that I have no idea when baseball season happens. I know there’s something about “spring training” and so I guess that should let me know that it starts in the summer but it’s always a surprise when the first person of the season says to me, “Did you see them play last night?” I usually look around as if they’re talking to someone else, not realizing they’ve made a connection with my hat and not me. Then it hits me and I realize that I’ve got weeks of smiling and nodding ahead of me. So while my pals may love and understand baseball season, to me it’s just a damn inconvenience and causes me to have to act without getting paid for it. Ugh, it’s baseball season again! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Maybe It’s Time For America To Start Making Products Again Instead Of Just Reality Stars – Don’t Get Me Started!

In speaking to someone recently regarding the HBO 2009 documentary, Schmatta: Rags To Riches (http://www.hbo.com/documentaries/schmatta-rags-to-riches-to-rags/index.html) about the garment district in New York and the garment industry in general, I began to wonder when it was that we stopped producing actual goods here in the states? I remember growing up seeing stickers that said, “Made in the USA” they were everywhere and now when I think about it, I can’t even remember the last time I saw one. Maybe it’s because so few things are actually made here in the good ol’ US of A anymore. Maybe it’s time for America to start making products again instead of just reality stars – Don’t Get Me Started!

When I think of the amazing products and technology that came out of the Industrial Revolution period in our history it’s seems sort of odd that the greatest thing we’ve done since is invent the iPod. Of course I’m over exaggerating but you with some sense out there must know what I mean. I remember being in school and having to try to “build a better mousetrap” or other contraptions as we learned about the Cotton Gin and what it did to revolutionize the plantations and harvesting of cotton. What will our children look at, the ShamWow? And is that even made in America?

Meanwhile, instead of people like Albert Einstein being lauded as heroes, we have rappers with rap sheets a million miles long (the longer the better apparently) and people lying, cheating and stealing to get onto reality shows so that they can parlay it into speaking engagements and a shot at being on Dancing With The Stars. Does anyone else see it? That we’re so engrossed in whether or not Mel Gibson is a racist loon ( I can assure you he is if the tapes and reports are accurate) instead of who is going to bring back clothing making and other industries not only back to America but make these industries better than before so that we can become the leader we once were. While we’ve been running around with our foam “Number 1” fingers sitting on our couches getting fatter and fatter, China and other countries have been working to make the products we want to buy cheaper and cheaper (not better, as we learned from the lead painted toys and the cheap drywall that kills you or what have you that we’ve bought from them) but my point is that somewhere along the way we’ve taken our eyes off the ball kids and we need to focus and get back into the game.

No, not the game of paying star athletes a bazillion dollars so that the youth of America thinks that it will be them in five years so there’s no reason to study or be educated but the game of ensuring our children understand the importance of a solid day’s work and also being able to have companies that will hire them for that day’s work.

Honestly people, what are we making here? Look at the label in your clothes, look under your coffee maker, look anywhere you like and let me know how many “Made in the USA” labels you find. We can blame the politicians who got their pockets lined in gold as they let the trade contracts get looser and looser over the years (both parties are to blame here) but I’m not interested in blame, I’m just wondering how long it’s going to take us to realize that we’re not making anything anymore. Sure some people have opened cupcake stores (and good for them) but is this what we’re going to look back on when we say, “The Industrial Revolution brought about the steam engine and in the 2000s we made cupcakes and reality shows about people who make cupcakes.” My what a proud moment that will be, huh?

Look, I can’t make anything other than perhaps one of those things where you fold the paper until you can put your index fingers and thumbs in it and move it in and out until you open the center flap and read someone’s fortune but please tell me there are some Americans out there making SOMETHING. Please tell me that there are kids out there more interested in finding a cure for cancer than being on American Idol. Please, please, oh please! Maybe it’s time for America to start making products again instead of just reality stars – Don’t Get Me Started!

What Happens When You Discover That YOU’VE Had It Wrong All The Time? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I like to think that I’m “with it” (as the kids used to say) or at the very least, that all my kvetching on this blog for the past four years has kept me in touch with what’s going on in the world and my own feelings about what’s going on. And while I have gone on endlessly about gay marriage and the rights we gays lack, the truth of the matter is that growing up, the thought of getting married never crossed my consciousness. If you were gay, you didn’t get married. And if you did find someone to spend your life with, you changed the pronoun when talking about him with older relatives and people who didn’t know you. I know, I know, this seems horribly antediluvian but I admit it, that’s how I’ve lived my life. While I write endlessly about gay marriage and my rights, I never wanted to be impolite or make anyone in the general public (or certain members of my family) uncomfortable. What happens when you discover that YOU’VE had it wrong all the time? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’ve always had a problem about what to call the man in my life. I’ve tried everything on from boyfriend to husband and everything in between and nothing feels right. When we became Domestic Partners (in accordance with the laws of our state) last year, all of the paperwork stated that my guy was now my “spouse.” And while it’s not the most romantic term in the world, for all intents and purposes that’s what he is, my spouse. It still doesn’t feel right to me.  But let’s leave the semantics of what to call my spouse aside for the moment.

I was picking up a prescription for me and dropping off a prescription for my guy last week when the pharmacy tech asked me when I needed it, without thinking I said, “It’s not my prescription, it’s for my spouse. Could you have it ready for him to pick up tonight?” “Spouse” it just slipped out. And as effortless as it was to say it, the pharmacy tech just as effortlessly said, “Not a problem, he can pick it up tonight.” She didn’t seem uncomfortable, the walls didn’t start to crumble, no one jumped out from around the corner of the candy aisle with a “God Hates Fags” sign (believe me, I looked) nothing happened. Wait, something was happening, I started to feel proud. Proud? Why would I feel proud of calling someone I’ve shared my life with this many years my spouse to a total stranger? It wasn’t some big declaration to the world, it wasn’t some protest, it was just my soul slipping out, speaking for me and it felt good to get it out.

Lest you think I walk around in a worried state that people will find out that my spouse and I are together, I can assure you that we kiss and hug in airports when we are welcoming each other home, we eat off of one another’s plates in restaurants when we feel the need however we don’t make out in public because straight or gay that doesn’t appeal to me to participate in or to watch. I have been a proud gay man for many years now so why did it take so long to figure out how wrong I have been for so long? The simple answer is that I don’t know. The complicated answer is that I’m a people pleaser and I want to be liked so rather than possibly make someone else feel uncomfortable I’ll put on whatever character you want me to be to make you feel comfortable whether I know you or you’re a complete stranger.

I could be bitter that it’s taken me so long to figure out how to be okay with calling a spouse a spouse or I could choose to be glad that it didn’t take me another forty-something years to figure it out. I choose the last one! What happens when you discover that YOU’VE had it wrong all the time? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Defenders Of Marriage – You Must Be Really Proud Of The Whole Heidi And Spencer Pratt Thing – Don’t Get Me Started!

I never watched “The Hills” and I never had a desire to watch it. Even when Heidi and Spencer were on every evening entertainment program I resisted them with great pride. I did see them on one episode of, “Help, I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here” and all that did was make me wonder why anyone would care about them at all in the first place let alone call them celebrities but now that The Hills is off the air apparently their marriage is being cancelled as well. While I don’t care about either one of them (or how many plastic surgery procedures they can have in a day) I do have to say that I love one thing about this whole train wreck. The straightees who keep telling us gays we’ll ruin marriage if we’re allowed to get married have yet another very public failure on their record and I love every minute of it! Defenders of marriage – you must be really proud of the whole Heidi and Spencer Pratt thing – Don’t Get Me Started!

I used to want the defenders of marriage (as between one man and one woman) to use Britney Spears’ ten minute Vegas wedding in their ads but now Speidi is here and they put on a much more compelling argument. Come to think of it, those of us who are fighting to get same-sex marriage approved should start using these bozos on OUR posters! The defenders of marriage always talk about the fact that marriage is designed for procreation. Not only did Speidi NOT procreate, everyone with any sense is delighted that they didn’t. Lest they think we’re choosing the worst possible representatives for straightee marriage as possible, remember there are still people like the slimy Warren Jeffs on the straightee mightier than thou list for them to use. If God hates fags, what must he think of these people mucking up marriage that supposedly He created and wanted us to keep most holy? I can tell you what he thinks, he’s throwing up like there’s no tomorrow (while his son Jesus holds his hair) that the religious for profit have made a killing trying to discriminate against fellow human beings based on their own skewed logic that they attribute to His teachings.

At the end of this month I will have been in a monogamous relationship with another man for twenty-two years. And while I acknowledge that the commitment made between two consenting adults should be designed to suit their own needs and decisions, my relationship echoes one of a more traditional nature. Neither of us has ever been unfaithful nor have we ever been separated, we have built a life together for one another and with one another. So someone please explain to me why the lack of a vagina in our bed makes our relationship less worthy of the rights that two drunken kids in Vegas or a fourteen year old told by an “elder” to marry a forty-six year old automatically get when they say, “I Do?”

Relationships are not an easy thing, whether it be with a spouse, a child or your banker. I’m not looking for some big pat on the back that I’m still with the same man after all these years, I don’t need validation from anyone but what I do need and deserve are the tax breaks and everything else that come with the marriages that are validated by the government. I’ve written about this many times before and I’m convinced the real problem people have is with the word “marriage” itself. If we all agree that marriage is a religious term then it has no place in anything that has to do with our government so make it “civil unions” for everyone when they apply, have them receive a certificate of “civil union” and then if they want to be recognized in their church or their coven, let their religious leaders decide to call it a marriage or something else. As I’ve said before, I don’t need the shoes and rice I need and deserve the rights as a tax paying American citizen.  But until that day arrives, go ahead straightees, hang onto your precious “marriage” for you only and the rest of us will continue to sit back and be amused by just how awful of a job you do of marriage. I don’t know that we’ll be any more successful than you straightees at marriage but we should at least get the opportunity to fuck it up as good as you’ve done lo these many centuries! Defenders of marriage – you must be really proud of the whole Heidi and Spencer Pratt thing – Don’t Get Me Started!

August 4, 2010 – Federal Judge expected to rule on Proposition 8. Stay informed at http://www.noh8campaign.com/

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Can Gays (And Those That Love Them) Really Boycott Target And Should We Even Try? – Don’t Get Me Started!

Last week I came across a video that was posted on YouTube (thanks to gayagenda.com). The video features the mother of a gay son who makes purchases at Target, returns them telling the manager of the store exactly why and explains to us what it means to be a lone voice in opposition when corporations do wrong doing. The reason for her act was promoted due to the fact that the Target Corporation gave $150,000 to a Minnesota gubernatorial candidate who has connections to anti-gay groups. Watching the video and listening to this articulate mother and grandmother pulled at my heart strings and I silently joined her protest and haven’t been to Target to shop since (watch the video here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2SipXbgyi68) but I started wondering if this is the best approach and if the message will be heard and frankly if I can live without Target! Can gays (and those that love them) really boycott Target and should we even try? – Don’t Get Me Started!

“What’s important in life is people. I love the people in my life. I love them more than anything I can buy at this store.” This is the quote from the mother and grandmother that got me the most. When you think of anyone in your life, aren’t they more important than a cheap messenger bag or not having to be seen in Walmart? Absolutely. And while it seems so simple in her delivery, I think it speaks volumes about us and just how much we’re willing to be inconvenienced in this day and age.

I say this all the time but I look back at wars like World War I and II where the entire country banded together, making sacrifices of rationing certain foods, turning in metals to make aircrafts and weapons and I look at today where unless you know someone allowed to serve in the military, your life is not affected one bit. Maybe the modern wars wouldn’t go on so long if we all were a little more inconvenienced more than just having to watch uncomfortable scenes and statistics of deaths on our televisions (of course I think many just change the channel). So too I think is the way of the modern way of civil protest. How many of you reading this right now had a clue about this issue? I didn’t. Had I not been looking at gayagenda (a gay news reporting site) I wouldn’t know about it at all.

I could make the argument that I don’t live in Minnesota (where the Target headquarters is located) so really, what is boycotting Target in Vegas going to do to them? Will it stop the executives at Target who rely heavily on gay designers, workers and I’m sure even executives to continue to keep Target on target with all consumers as a hip, trendy and affordable place to shop from supporting politicians who support anti-gay sentiment in the future? Probably not but the question isn’t whether or not it WILL affect them, it’s whether or not I’m willing to be complacent and apathetic therefore affecting my own psyche.

I don’t shop at Target every week but as the weekend went on I couldn’t help but think of all the things I wanted to purchase there. Why? What sort of strange mental illness causes you to start wanting something as soon as Jiminy Cricket playing your conscience on your shoulder tells you that you shouldn’t? It took mere moments for me to rationalize that by me not spending money at Target it might affect shifts and staffing causing the (what I can only assume is partially a gay staff) at my local Target  to lose money and not be able to pay their rent. So was I really hurting the fat cats at the corporate office or was I hurting my fellow gays right here by not shopping there? I don’t think I spent more than $100 at Target last month so why all of a sudden did I want to get in bed with the “bad boy?” Certainly Target can’t be seen as some sort of forbidden fruit? (Okay, bad choice of words considering the subject matter.) And is my $100 going to change who corporate execs spend the company money on when supporting candidates and causes?

In a day and age where it’s easier to do what feels right for you instead of what’s right to do period I find myself knowing in the back of my head that at some point I’ll buy something at Target but for now, I won’t. Everyone of us has to make this call for ourselves but if you feel anything from watching this video or from this blog, I would hope that at the very least you’ll let Target know how off target they are – here is a link to the contact page and my email that I sent.

http://www.target.com/gp/help/display-contact-us-form.html?displayLink=tci

Here’s the response from Target:

Can gays (and those that love them) really boycott Target and should we even try? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Why Can’t They Just Let American Idol Die With Some Dignity? – Don’t Get Me Started!

While all the rumors run rampant about judges leaving, new potential judges and Nigel Lythgoe coming back as producer to American Idol I find myself wondering what I wonder about so many things. I’ve always been and always will be someone who believes in quality not quantity. That goes for everything from chocolate to life. Lest you think that I’m an advocate of the Soylent Green approach to life (killing everyone when they get a certain age and then turning them into food for the rest of the population without their knowledge, “Soylent Green is made of people!” insert Charlton Heston’s pained face here), I assure you that I’m not but all it takes is watching one relative or friend slowly slip away as they’re eaten away by disease until they’re no longer even themselves that has shaped my belief that should the time come for me to languish away bit by bit I’ll be looking for someone better than Wyle Coyote to drop an Acme anvil on me. Wasn’t there a song about everything having a season? Well American Idol has now has its season now, many in fact, and it’s time for it to bow out gracefully. But where there’s money to be made there’s someone who is going to try and give it a facelift to line their pockets. Why can’t they just let American Idol die with some dignity? – Don’t Get Me Started!

I stopped watching American Idol about three seasons ago. I could barely get through watching the whole audition process, where they exploit people’s mental illnesses. I don’t care what you say, you have people on there who really think they can sing or are going to be superstars who can’t sing a note and while we all laugh at them we become a collective of couch bullies and I don’t have the stomach to be part of that group. Sure, you can say that they “let themselves” in for it by waiting in rain, sleet and snow for three days and then finally getting in front of the judges but would you be saying that if the people’s mental illnesses were more prominent than just a little self delusion?

Once the judges cast the show (and believe me they cast them more on the participants’ personal tragedy story than their singing abilities) the real torture begins of having to watch these kids try desperately to be “stars” while the judges offer little constructive criticism to help them because they’re more concerned with their own camera angle or creating a catch phrase. (Are you hearing me “Dog” – ‘cause I dunno that was just a-right with me and pitchy in places but mad props ya know I got love for you.)

I watched the first few seasons and I got everything you’re supposed to out of it. I wanted Kelly Clarkson to win and I felt personally responsible for her win but as time has marched on, the talent has gotten worse, the shows have gotten longer and perhaps worst of all, it seems as though those involved with the show began to believe that they were more important than the singers or the competition. You can applaud Simon for leaving but didn’t he stay too long at this fair too?

The American public has tastes that change rather quickly and I don’t think that’s a bad thing, I just think we have a short attention span and have to acknowledge it. I get that American Idol was a great idea when it first came out but it’s time has passed. Let it go. It’s like trying to get someone to love you after they’ve moved on, even if you get them back you’re going to have to sleep with one eye open for the rest of your life to make sure they’re not trying to chew through the restraints at night while you’re sleeping.  (whoa, have no idea where that came from but it’s so bizarre I’m leaving it in)

So let’s all put on our black t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off our man boobs and mourn not only the passing of Simon Cowell leaving American Idol but the entire show. I don’t care if Simon thinks the show couldn’t survive without him, I don’t care if Ryan Seacrest has to find something he’s actually good at besides wearing suits that are tailored so tight that they make him look as if he has no circulation going to that big head of his and I don’t care if Randy Jackson and the rest of the lot have to go back to actual careers at something they were talented doing. It’s time to let it go. And while we’re at it, let’s start putting a few expiration dates on a few other shows: The Bachelor, The Bachelorette, Survivor, Dancing With The Stars, So You Think You Can Dance, Real World (and every version of Real World Road Rules, whatever), all reality shows with “rock” star family men or rock stars trying to supposedly find love and finally turn Snooki and the gang from Jersey Shore over and you’ll discover that they’ve got until the end of 2011 before they’re rotten…oh wait, maybe they’re like a dented can, doesn’t matter what the expiration date is, you should still throw it away because it’s damaged goods. Why can’t they just let American Idol die with some dignity? – Don’t Get Me Started!

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When You’re A Gay American, Little Injustices Can Sting A Lot! – Don’t Get Me Started!

A recent visit to the doctor’s office turned out to be yet another eye opening experience to me that when you’re a gay American, little injustices can sting a lot! – Don’t Get Me Started!

I had not been to the doctor in months as I’m a generally healthy person (stop the comments about my mental health, I’m talking physically for the moment) but I decided to go in and just get things checked out. The first thing they do is throw that form at you. You know the one I’m talking about, the one that is going to ask you to list the same information about five times on the same form; your name, date of birth, age (because I suppose they can’t do the math to figure out your age from your birth date) and of course all of your insurance information. After all, the insurance information is the most important part, without that they can’t keep the diseased hamster that is American healthcare on the wheel running if they don’t have the info to triple bill the insurance company so that the insurance will pay what the procedure really costs and then bill part of it back to you as “not covered” or part of your deductible so that they can get a piece of the action too. Run, healthcare hamster, run! However this entry is not about the insurance companies and how their pre-existing condition of overcharging and denying coverage may or may not be solved by the recent health care legislation.

In filling out the form I found it interesting that they allow you to sort of “opt” out when it comes to questions about your race but when it comes to whether or not you’re single or married they want that information. What makes it even more interesting for someone of my shall we say “persuasion” is that they ask you your marital status on one question and then the next question asks if you live alone, with your spouse or with roommates. While most would say that I’m blowing things out of proportion I want to be very clear that I had no problem answering the first question as “single” due to the fact that in the eyes of the law I cannot be married in my state nor is same sex marriage legal according to the current Federal laws. I am however the legal Domestic Partner of my partner in the state of Nevada and therefore on the second question, I answered that I lived with my “spouse” because according to the documents I signed and the $75 we sent in to be registered with the state, my partner is now my “spouse” according to the law. The thing is that I hesitated before I checked the “spouse” box. Why?

Why did I hesitate? Because until my government’s laws state that I have complete equal rights, I will always have this hesitation when filling out a form like this one. I have lived for forty-five years and at the end of August I will have been with the same and only man for the past twenty-two years and yet I still have to check the “single” box on all forms. I have had to go along with the untruth that American society has forced me to propagate on everything from my tax forms to my Facebook page. I’m “single” to the Federal government and on Facebook I’m “In A Relationship” but in my heart I’m as married as my parents and their parents before them. I’m not asking the church going folk who insist that two men can’t be married in the eyes of their supposed God to understand or condone my relationship. In fact, I don’t want or need them to understand it or condone it. I do however need my government to understand and condone it because just like the government doesn’t oversee first communion, they should not concern themselves with marriage, only civil unions for the sake of the civilization and tax purposes along with the other thousand or so rights and privileges that heterosexuals currently receive  with their marriage certificate.

To those of you who will tell me that I should be thankful I don’t live in a country where they jail or kill me for my “lifestyle” I can only wish you one day of feeling what I feel as a law abiding, taxpaying American who when filling out forms, not being able to serve my country or even afraid for my own safety due to the fact I am a man that has a man in my bed is told and shown by his government every day that he is a second class citizen. If you did live one day in my shoes I don’t think it would be long until you found yourself feeling as I do, like the Mayor of Who-ville from the classic Dr. Seuss book, shouting as loud as you can, “We are here! We are here!” When you’re a gay American, little injustices can sting a lot! – Don’t Get Me Started!

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The Lost Art Of Listening – Don’t Get Me Started!

Before you finish your sentence, in my mind I’ve all ready finished it for you and I’ve moved on to either the conclusion of that conversation or perhaps even a new topic of conversation all together. I admit it, I’m a “nodder” when you’re talking to me. I’m smiling and I’m nodding and then more times than I care to remember when I walk away I have no idea what you just said to me. I could have been thinking about how many calories are in a salad that is supposed to be healthy for you but if you want any dressing on it you’re asking for trouble and may as well have had that burger that you were trying to stay away from because you were trying to eat “healthy” all the while I just agreed with you to wash your dog and take your kids to an amusement park all of which I have no intention of doing and will have no recollection of when you “surprise” me with the news that I agreed to do either of these things the day before they’re supposed to happen. The lost art of listening – Don’t Get Me Started!

I’m not sure when listening became so difficult for me. I was a fairly decent student and as I’m a habitual rule follower I’m sure I used to listen a lot but as time moves on and I get older, I find myself bored with whatever anyone has to say within the first seconds. I know, it’s bad, why do you think I’m writing about it?  I guess I just want people to do what I always tell my mother. When my mother tells a story you have to hear every inch of it and every second of “Well then he said” “and then I said” “but your father was sitting there and he said” it all gets too much for me until finally I move my hands in a gesture that looks like a referee calling traveling in basketball begging her to “sum up” the story, something I eventually scream to her, “SUM UP!” Meanwhile I’ve taken in nothing she has said at all because I have been thinking to myself, “Is it too soon to scream sum up? Make the traveling gesture to try and speed things along? What is she talking about? Oh God, now she’s gone off on a tangent, I’m going to scream SUM UP at any moment, I can feel it starting to rise in my throat like that bad piece of fruit I ate earlier. Do you think it was bad? Can you get food poisoning from bad fruit? What is she saying now? Oh I give up. SUM UP!!!!” So you can understand that while I may have a look on my face of total comprehension as to what is being said or discussed, I know not one thing she has said.

Look, I know this isn’t good but listening I find is really hard. I don’t know if I have what I’ve always suspected, SAS (Short Attention Span) or what but more and more I find myself shocked at just how much I’m not taking in. Maybe my mind is just too full of really important stuff. Yeah, right. Anyone who reads this blog knows that the only claim to fame I have is that I know every lyric to Afternoon Delight by Starland Vocal Band. That will surely help me on Are You Smarter Than A 5^th Grader! No, I a-feared I just have lost the will and way to listen.

It doesn’t just happen with friends, it happens at work and in social settings just about the same. I find myself being introduced to someone and I even say their name back, “Hi John, very nice to meet you.” But then I start looking at the hem of their pants that has one pant leg longer than the other and the fact that they have obviously haven’t bought a tie in fourteen years and by the time I leave them, they could hold a gun to my head and I wouldn’t be able to tell you the person’s name.

I’m warning all of you right now. If you think you may have a crime happen to you, you do NOT want me as the eye witness. Not only will I not remember if they car was blue or green, I’ll contradict myself on who said what to whom and being obsessed with my own weight and height, I’ll have no idea what the attacker looked like at all because almost everyone just looks taller and in better shape than me.

On the whole I’m a good person. I try and go through life making people smile and interacting in a way that makes people feel good about being around me. But the more I’m on this planet the more I feel certain basic skills slipping away and listening is one of them. Don’t ask me what I just watched on television or even saw out on the street because these seem like some sort of ether that enter me, numb my mind for a moment and then waft on to their next subject without leaving a trace. So the next time if you’re talking to me and I look like I’m getting it, be suspicious. On the other hand, if I look like I’m constipated or my eyes are searing through you as if they’re trying to put you in a trance, then I just might be trying to really take in what you’re saying. You just never know and that’s what makes me so much fun to be around. (execute eye rolling) The lost art of listening – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Why You Should See Joan Rivers: A Piece Of Work – Don’t Get Me Started!

I admit it, I’m a documentary junkie. More when it’s about a specific person or a subject that interests me but what I find the more I watch actual documentaries is just how wrong reality television gets it and how we as a culture have begun to believe that reality television is a documentary when it’s just like any other television show that is produced, cast, edited and re-shot to make us believe it’s reality but if you peel away the thinnest layer you’ll find it couldn’t be further away from reality. I also know that people will not find it difficult to believe that I’m biased based on the fact that I’m a Jew and Joan Rivers is a gay icon but I would have to say that for anyone who wants fame and fortune or to know what it takes to maintain and sustain a career, stop looking at American Idol or Justin Beiber and you may just find out what becomes as they put it in the film, “A semi-legend” most. Why you should see Joan Rivers: A Piece Of Work – Don’t Get Me Started!

Although the youngsters of today think that this is the tiny woman who stands on red carpets and hawks big jewelry on QVC, from the start of this film those who know more about her roots and the fact that she is comedic royalty will discover that everything you suspected about Joan Rivers is true, she is one of the most driven women in show business. And guess what? She’s a good business woman.

As I sat in the dark laughing more than I have at any comedy movie I’ve ever seen I was also thrust into a world of an old school comedian who made it by her own sheer determination, a little thing called luck and fighting tooth and nail to keep holding onto her career all the while the establishment and others conspired to send grease down the wall she was holding onto with her finely manicured nails in their attempt to send her careening into oblivion. But they didn’t know who they were dealing with here. No matter how much shit they’ve thrown at her, her claws have kept her in place and you won’t find a chip in her polish.

“Do you want to see fear?” Joan Rivers asks as she opens up her calendar book to two pages that have nothing on them. When you see the schedule she maintains you marvel at her not because although she has a staff of assistants, agent and manager, but because you understand that every appointment was driven by Ms. Rivers herself on some level due to her own drive. She shows a day that she approves of on the calendar, one that has between four and six appearances, book signings and other meetings. You get that she’s not just talented, she’s smart and more than anything else she’s working…constantly.

I don’t know what the answer is to the fact that she seems to get overlooked by Show Business insiders when it’s she who helped define and create the comedic portion of that industry. Is it because she’s a woman? Is it because she’s told her version of the truth unabashedly and unashamedly for so many years? Who’s to say? I just think that what I’ve thought for years has been confirmed watching this movie. Joan Rivers deserves more from all of us because she has not just paved the way for other comedians back in the day but because she has continually forged new roads and taken us laughing in directions we had no idea were possible and has stayed more than current and ahead of the curve.

More than anything else, seeing her passion for her life and what she does made me look at my own life. Am I doing enough? Not a chance. Not when I see what this woman does every day to keep the Rivers machine going, supporting not only her own lifestyle but the industry that is Joan Rivers.

It’s sometimes easy to dismiss comedians as joke tellers and nothing more but I ask you to stop for a moment and understand what that person who got up on that stage to make you laugh came through in order to stand there. The braveness it takes and the fact that in a day and age where everything is manufactured for most comedians by a staff of writers, some are still doing it on their own and Joan Rivers has the thousands of jokes typed out on 3 by 5 cards to prove it.

As we left the theatre I felt as though I knew more about this woman I’ve watched for years and I wondered how she makes it all look so easy. Talent is the answer I suppose but whatever it is, I can only hope she continues doing it for years to come and that at some point she realizes that she is not a semi-legend but a full-fledged legend! Why you should see Joan Rivers: A Piece Of Work – Don’t Get Me Started!

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Gay Hollywood Doesn’t Get It – Don’t Get Me Started!

As I often do, I find myself wondering why it is that I’m not getting what I’m supposed to be getting as a card carrying gay. I watch movies and television shows and I read about how good, bad and ugly the networks are doing each year representing gays and I can’t help but think gay Hollywood doesn’t get it – Don’t Get Me Started!

Last week GLAAD (Gay & Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) came out with their report regarding which networks are representing us gays and lesbians the best. MTV found themselves as the big winner this year, receiving an “excellent” rating from the group. (Read the rest of the list here http://www.glaad.org/2010/nri) But what amazes me about these types of studies is that I wonder just who they’re supposed to benefit? Are we supposed to all suddenly stop watching Bravo (the gayest network to hit the airwaves since Lifetime Television for Women and Gay Men) and tune into the latest group of “Real Lifers” to see the token gay they’ve thrown in the mix this season and the rube who will be his nemesis throughout the season making for “excellent” (as rated by GLAAD) television? Count me out.

Also as someone who is watching more and more gay television (thanks to the addition of the Logo Network to my cable line up, an MTV network by the way) I can tell you that if I have to watch one more movie or series where the main gay character is a sensitive youth I’m going to puke. I get that some people had a life growing up this way and I get that when writers write they often pull from personal experiences but in my experience the least successful movies and series involve these thinly veiled and face lifted versions of the author. Talk about gays being narcissistic. Dorian Gray, your painting is calling you.

I think the problem is that the people who are creating these projects are gays of a certain age. That’s right, I’m calling the boys who are no longer boys out on this one. I get that I’m a forty-something gay and I also get that there are many times when I reference something in my writing people have no idea what I’m talking about. For example, to me I will always think of Bobby Brady and the Indian Boy who he brought baked beans to in a flashlight during their Grand Canyon episodes as the original Brokeback Mountain. But what we gays of age need to realize is that not only do the gays of today not get the Brady Bunch reference, the Brokeback Mountain one is becoming dated too. We need to do more besides create new “divas” for gays to idolize and emulate. Look, I love Lady GaGa as much as any of the other “little monsters” who follow her but it’s time for us to not only have these role models and artists who accept and embrace us but have some shall we say gays and ladies who aren’t appealing to our beaded, feathered boa and torched experience side of the gay stereotype.

The fact of the matter is that while some gays are still beat up on the playground, there are plenty of young gays who are coming out earlier on in their lives and it doesn’t matter to anyone. They don’t live tortured lives before their coming out, walking around as “sensitive” youths, they’re living their lives proudly from an early age and guess what? It’s working. That’s right, while I agree that we need to get things like Don’t Ask Don’t Tell repealed and that America should be ashamed that other countries that are supposedly “less developed” than us are granting same-sex marriage rights while we still sit firmly on our bible thumping roots, I think that’s for us older gays to take care of and meanwhile we need to do more to represent the gays of today in our media and artistry.

I love Glee as much as the next gay but that storyline about Kurt last year went from interesting to a what seemed more of a cathartic experience for the creators than the character or the show itself. I was Kurt, I should know. I was slammed into lockers, called names and clung to the theatre and music departments in my high school so that there was somewhere that I could feel accepted and acknowledged for my abilities. And once again, while I don’t doubt there are some gay kids who are experiencing that same thing today, I think that’s a hold out from our forty-something gay childhoods that are not as prevalent or relevant today. (And if they do a story arc of Kurt taking a date to prom next season in an attempt to be “cutting edge” and with today’s sensibilities I’d like to remind them they’re too late, too many gay youths have all ready begun and won this fight without Hollywood’s help.)

Isn’t it time we started seeing gay characters who are not “sensitive” “flamboyant” “sluts” or any of the other older stereotypes we complain about and propagate in our Hollywood representations? Isn’t it time to start making gay characters that are gay but have something else going for them besides just being “gay?” What I’m saying is that we need to start practicing what we preach and learning from the next generation more. Sure we can teach them about Stonewall and a lot of other things but what they can teach us is that the next generation of gays will be a stronger, self-confident group because they were not restricted to be defined by their gayness or coming out but because of what they as human beings brought to the world as human beings. Isn’t it time that art begins to intimidate life instead of continually giving us this old still life that doesn’t represent who gays are and becoming today and tomorrow? Gay Hollywood doesn’t get it – Don’t Get Me Started!

P.S. (And I don’t mean, Palm Springs) If you want to see some real gays on reality television, tune into The Fabulous Beekman Boys – lest you think I think everyone is getting it wrong, this show is amusing, heart-felt, the two men love one another and yet somehow it survives on who these people are as a whole and not just some finger snapping stereotype! http://planetgreen.discovery.com/tv/the-fabulous-beekman-boys/the-fabulous-beekman-boys.html

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“No, You’re The F*g!” Another Head Shaker In Human Existence – Don’t Get Me Started!

Location: The post office, mid-afternoon. When I entered the post office I could feel that the 110 degree temperature outside was affecting the temperature inside. It felt all of about five degrees cooler inside and the air was as stagnant as the line of unamused people waiting to be serviced by the two counter positions that were open appeared to be mini volcano waiting to blow. It took seconds to realize that although I was only about the fourth person in line, this was not going to be pretty. At one of the counter positions, the customer was waiting looking at his watch. The counterperson was not in evidence, leading me to believe that he was in the back looking for a package or something for the customer. At the other counter position a small man of Indian descent looked as if he was trying to explain something to the large woman who had a box atop the counter that was not sealed with items revealing themselves through the top of the open box. And so it would come to pass that fifteen minutes later the only thing that had moved in the line was the next person up who disgustedly left the post office and the rest of us who shuffled our weight from one hip to the other.

About this time a short chubby woman in postal uniform began to walk the line. “Are you mailing something? In or out of the country? Do you need help? It’s okay, you’re in the right line stay where you are.” While she addressed each person individually and I thought that it was a good idea to have some expedite the line, I know we were all secretly thinking the same thing, “If you have time to be out working the crowd, perhaps you should get your butt to one of the other counter positions and actually start REALLY helping those of us who have been on line this long.” Finally the large woman with the open box began to move from her position at the counter and before a sigh of relief could come from the line, in swooped a tall blond man who had not been the next in line in his late forties to the counter. Two from the front of the line, a very large man with dark hair and appeared to be in his forties as well bellowed, “I don’t know where the fuck you came from dude but you’re not next!” The swooping man looked back at the large man in disbelief that he had even questioned him and then responded with, “Ask that guy there who I am (gesturing to the other counter person who had finally returned from wherever he was) he told me to come over here.” Trying to save face the dark haired man mumbled something inaudible and then put his arm around a slight woman that was with him that gave the appearance of a cave man and his woman. When the tall blonde man left the counter he looked at the dark man and said, “Fuck you.” The dark man said something to him I couldn’t quite hear but then in response to what he said, as the tall blonde man passed me he looked back over his shoulder at the dark haired man and said, “No, YOU’RE the fag!” And I stood there, pissed off more than I could say.

Never mind for a second that everyone in the world thinks they’re too special to wait in a line. Never mind for a second that these men were in their forties behaving like children on a playground. Even take the fact that they called each other “fags” in this day and age and at their day and age on this planet. It made me wonder when we as a civilization would learn to be civil or if we ever will.

You can blame the way someone grew up or their socioeconomic circumstances but at the end of the day, none of it is really relevant to me. While I believe that by the time people become a certain age they should have acquired the skills to be out in public and interacting appropriately, the more I’m around people the less people I think are ready for human interaction and that I’m completely wrong. Maybe everyone needs to stay on their computers making their semi-anonymous comments to vent their frustrations and anger, even their misguided anger at themselves that they are not where they want to be or treated as they’d like to be treated. Could it be that in this age of technological wonderment like the iPhone with video calling and Facebook where you can find someone who wouldn’t speak to you in high school and be their cyber friend that we’ve forced ourselves to become cave dwellers who even though we’re all social networked out to the max, can’t hold a conversation with someone or behave in a line? I’ve oft said that when Twitter came about it seemed as though our short attention spans got even shorter because now instead of blogs or Facebook comments we were reduced to 140 characters to express ourselves and tell everyone what we were having on our hot dog at lunch instead of actually having lunch with and interacting with another human being.

Look, on the whole I’m a positive person but sometimes I just want to scream at people like the forty-something Neanderthals with their screams of “fag” at one another. I want to believe that I can have a meal with someone without one eye of theirs glued to their phone or texting someone. No more I say. No more will I tolerate bad behavior from myself or those around me. I will turn my phone off at dinner, I will interact with the people in front of me, I will give them the benefit of the doubt whenever possible and I will try to lead by example that although technology and everything else encourages us to be a cave dweller that we can actually spend times out of our caves interacting and creating a true civilization filled with civil interaction. In the meantime I’m thinking, “No, YOU’RE the fag!” is this really the best this guy could come up with? We must truly be getting weaker as a civilization even in our repartee, America better be careful because China or the Taliban may just get better at discourse than us and then where will we be? “No, You’re The F*g!” Another Head Shaker In Human Existence – Don’t Get Me Started!

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