Thursday, September 18, 2003

Word of the year


Apparently of gay idiomatic/showbusiness origin, means an extremely dramatic show of pain and angst, usually to gain attention and sympathy.

Found it in the book Openly Bob.

Im trying to avoid getting to that stage right now. :-)

Wednesday, September 17, 2003

The Rendezvous

It had all
the makings of a bad spy tv show.

Furtive calls. Evening rides on the train to the middle of nowhere. The flashing of headlights for recognition.

All for the goods.

The swap was made, the cash for the goods. Inspected, looked checked out.

I looked around for the undercover cops to screech up and make the bust, but the only people looking at me were the Sikh cab drivers idly checking what was up as they waited for a fare, any fare to take from the Fremont BART station.

All to get the parts I needed to get the laptop working.

Its working. Eh.

Not perfect, but it'll do for now.

Craigslist, when used properly...

Tuesday, September 16, 2003

Da horrorscope

You'll make an unexpected but significant leap forward. Don't let other people tell you that you're "so lucky."
You spent your whole life getting up to this moment.


Monday, September 15, 2003

The other day our daughter, Muffin, announced 'I want a cell phone.'
'You're three,' said my wife.
'But I love them.'
'Ask your father.'
I love them too Muffin. Daddy loves cell phones because Daddy doesnt have a cell phone.

And that is what Daddy loves about cell phones--not having one.

It makes your father unreachable. Being unreachable is a potent status symbol in the world today. Every pimple-nosed dot com emperor has a Lexus, a business jet, a weekend house in Phuket, and a cell phone.

But Muffin, you just try getting the Queen of England on the blower. Or try to find a direct-dial number for the President of the United States...

- The CEO of the Sofa, PJ O'Rourke

Not that anyone noticed, but I let the service for the cell die.

Im an adult, and I do have responsibilities, so of course, I will get another number soon.

But man, I hate phones.

I curse every time I hear it ring.

The main reason Ive been good about keeping a phone in the past, is because my mother, back in 1991, filed a missing's persons report as my phone had been disconnected, and I *so* enjoyed the peace and quiet, I didnt reconnect it for a year.

If Ma gets freaked, everyone else gets freaked.

So, the phone went back on and stayed on so that I could talk to her long distance on Sundays, and also because - not long after, I discovered the Internet...

But as folk discover eventually, I kinda like being unreachable.

Ma knows my email and IM, doesnt really know how to use either but *does* know how to bug LilBro on my status and wherabouts.

So, the phone will stay off for a bit.

For old times sake. breathe slowly into the black and white paper bag

Making arrangements
for my first 'show'.


The walls are a lot BIGGER than I realized. Im gonna have to blow up some of the images so people can actually see them.

Shit, the matting and framing is gonna COST yo. Never mind the prints thmselves.

I havent even sorted through my old stuff. WHICH images do I show???

I have to pick stuff that doesnt look like I woke up uncaffienated,and then started taking pictures of the cat.

With the prospect of thousands of people seeing them daily, EVERYTHING looks like the Polaroid Amateur Hour.

Shit, shit, shit.

Its months away, and yet Im already feeling screwed.

Oh yeah, and Im gonna have to STORE them somewhere once I have them prepped.

Well, this is what I wanted, so stop moaning and get em out.

I dont think inspiration is what causes many artists to be strung out.

Its the prospect of a public viewing.

Sunday, September 14, 2003

Ex prepare

Ive added the LA Times to my daily read list.

I still get "WHY in god's name do you wanna go to LA???" I dont know, although I think I do.

Right now, Im reading Openly Bob, by the gay comic Bob Smith. This book has me doubled over in laughter every few pages.
"I was late for my audition..

Since moving to Los Angeles I hadnt mastered the ability to determine the amount of time it takes to do an errand.
In New York, most of the threats to my punctuality were easily visible or well-publicized beforehand: dogshit on sidewalks, bad weather, parades, Christmas shoppers, bomb threats.

In Los Angeles, the obstacles to promptness are usually caused by the unforseeable disasters: car accidents, mud slides, earthquakes, jury verdicts, cult suicides, the premiere of a big-budget movie where the biggest special effect is inadvertent -- the audience hated it."

Hoohoo. I also like his take on Mother Nature..
" I find it comforting to think of Mother Nature as a Native New Yorker. The source of all our environmental problems is that people mistakenly think of Mother Nature as a sweet mom instead of who she really is: a tough broad.
Picture her with a cigarette dangling from her lips as she threatens, "What the fuck is your problem? You put a hole in my ozone layer, I'll put a hole in your face. And if you you cut down my rain forests, you'll live to regret it. AM I MAKING MYSELF CLEAR?"


Nudder September baby

Happy Birthday, Tish

It's all very well to say the next 12 months are going to be the best ever for Virgos. The "show me" sign of the cosmos demands evidence.
Right! OK, here's a planetary flash: Your wayward ruler, Mercury, is back on track in your sign just as Mars prepares to do his thing in your one-on-one house. Happy Birthday! And to think of all the agonizing you've done because you thought you were losing it! Oh, ye of little faith!

How to act as if youve got more insurance.

One way to tell you're getting older:

You feel morally superior to young people.

(This, of course, is not to be confused with the folk who feel morally superior to EVERYBODY. Them's different. They dont care how old you are, theyre better, wiser and prettier than everybody else. Dont tell them theyre none of the above. That just makes it worse.)

You stop giving young folk any credit for wisdom, sense or judgement.

Your words are given as judgements from upon high, advice and natch, criticism.

The irony of course, is that when youre older, you start getting an increasing feeling of envy.

Not that you'd want to be young again, no, god forbid. But you wouldnt mind having the energy, firmness and lack of grey hair. But you wont admit to that, nuh uh. You just dispense advice as if you know best.

Sometimes, we want to piss on their parade.

Sometimes, you even take advantage.

Cuz, you know, youre older.

So, to be cool, one has to learn how to fake the empathy. Yeah, you feel superior, but you have to not ACT superior.

Its not hard, really.

We just have to remember that our superiority complex is rooted in .. an inferiority complex.

So, smile, swallow the bile and play nice.

Cuz youre older, have more experience, more resources and do have more insurance.

We've had our chance to grow up.

Now it's their turn.


Backstage at a concert.

Im having a blast.

And, I think I got a glimpse of the future.

It doesnt look too bad, actually.