Thursday, February 21, 2008

A Contemporary Triumvirate To Lead America To It's New Golden Age?

Watching the CNN Democratic Presidential Candidate Debates tonight I couldn't help but think: How great would it be if the ticket coalesced to look like this come November: Clinton - Obama, and, let's face it - Clinton.

You see, I've long thought that electing Hillary would be getting two for the price of one. Though "First Gentleman" Bill would have no official function in the government, his experience, expertise, charisma and influence would be an undeniable boost. Now imagine Barak Obama as Vice President; the most active Vice President in history...virtually a co-president!

Though not very successful in it's few implementations (due mainly to the confrontational and super-inflated egos of it's members, ie. Caesar, Pompey and Crassus) the institution of a governing triumvirate was, in my opinion, a brilliant invention of the ancient Roman Senate. If it works, it's a team of three great minds working together with it's own built-in checks and balances to avoid tyranny and insure accountability, to lead a nation to glory.

It sounds politically incorrect and out-dated now...but I think, now more than ever, what our country, and our world needs, is just that: Glory. A glory not at the expense of a downtrodden minority; not as a result of an armed conquest. A glory unlike anything imagined in the past. A glory of a unified sensible populous affirming liberty, happiness, mutual respect and protection for all.

All right, enough grandstanding for tonite! :)

Things on the island are kooky again...

Naomi parachutes to the island.

The survivors are saved, right?

Well...

Ben says they're coming to kill them all.

Factions are formed.

Jack says: Trust them.

Locke says: Hell no.

Locke throws knife and sticks Naomi in her back.

Ben lets Naomi run away.

Jack beats up Ben.

Naomi dies.

The Losties split into Pro-Jack and Pro-Locke camps.

More "rescuers" drop from the sky.

Locke holds Charlotte hostage.

Ben shoots Charlotte.

Charlotte has a bullet-proof vest and is unharmed.

Locke beats up Ben.

Sayid gets on the helicopter to go to the ship.

Kate and Sawyer sleep together.

Sawyer is relieved because she says she's not pregnant.

Kate slaps Sawyer.

Flash-forwards:

Hurley is poor again?

Hurley is committed to the looney bin again.

Hurley sees and talks to Charlie. (But isn't Charlie dead?)

Sayid kills people again.

Sayid works for Ben.

Kate goes on trial for killing her daddy.

Jack testifies he doesn't love Kate...anymore.

Kate hugs her "son", Aaron. (Claire's baby born on the island)

Man, it's gonna be a great season.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

FLASHBACK: January 1993

"Crazy ... I'm crazy for feelin' so lonely
I'm crazy ... crazy for feelin' so blue"
Crazy - Patsy Cline

Can you say "crazy"? That's what we were. On vacation in Montreal during a severe cold snap. (Well what else would you expect for Canada in the middle of winter...duh!)

But this?! Nighttime low temp (Fahrenheit) = 40 degrees below zero! (probably wind chill factor...but still!)

How'd I come to be in this frozen wasteland?

During the Holiday season, Wayne and I hosted at least 2 dinner parties for his friends Chris and David. I found them a bit boring and other than us all being gay, I don't know that we shared many interests.

My primary interests at this time were:

1. My commitment to an alcohol-free life
2. My Jane Fonda stepper and low-fat healthy eating to maintain my weight (~175)
3. My newly-acquired used computer (386sx)

(Boy how things have changed, huh!)

Chris and David's interests:

1. Their maintenance of civility to each other (They reminded me of the cartoon chipmunks Chip and Dale...."After you....No, after you...Oh but I insist, after you...Oh, I wouldn't hear of it, after you..." BLAM!!!! (That's me taking a shotgun to their little fuckin' over-polite furry heads, dammit!))
2. Their Gay Pride! (We're Here, We're Queer...Get Used To It!!) ...yeah, those types...yawn...
3. Their politically-correct attitude about everything.

I think they were big into MCC Church as well...you know, the New Age Gay Non-Denominational, Quasi-Christian ('cause it's so liberal, you don't HAVE to believe in Jesus if you don't want to) "church".

That's right they were... I remember now...we once had a "discussion" about religion. I think they were trying to convert me from my atheism. I posed the questions about Christianity I knew they would have "excuses" for (as so many do), like the question about the existence of Hell and who goes there after death, the God of the Old Testament (which most Christians don't want to talk about) and all His demands of obedience, plagues, fire and brimstone, playing that fun trick on Abraham telling him to sacrifice his own child, then just as Abraham has his son sprawled out on the altar, knife poised to plunge, God is all like: "Um, er, nevermind...I was testing you!"...ah...Good Times!

"Oh, we don't believe in any of that. God is all about Love and Caring!", they practically chanted together with a glazed look in their eyes, as a rainbow shone down around them and doves fluttered up to the sky.

Yeah...Like I'd love to "pick and choose" from other tales to conform to my own sense of what's right as well...

Like I would love to believe that Spock didn't die from radiation poisioning only to be "reborn" on a newly-formed planet as a result of the mysterious effects of the Genesis device.
But I can't deny it. It's canon. Cheap and absurd, yes. But it was in the films, so it happened. I must get over it.

Anyway, we decided we should go on a trip together. Kinda like 2 couples (though Wayne and I weren't a couple, we did appear as if we were).

Who chose Montreal? Beats me. But I may have. We needed something inexpensive to get to. This fit the bill...only an 8 hour drive from Rhode Island. I also had recently been to Montreal in 1990 and loved it. (Though it was September...big climate difference!)

We wanted to economize as much as possible, so I suggested we call motel chains like Motel 6 or Red Roof Inn and stuff. Oh my! David and Chris actually called me homophobic because I wanted to stay at a "straight" motel, not a gay-owned or at least gay-friendly accommodation! Um, the "gay" hotels were twice as expensive...and to me, I didn't see the big issue. Who cares who owns the hotel. As long as it's clean, got basic amenities and is conveniently located, who cares.

Well, they won out and we stayed in the heart of the gay ghetto, Ste. Catherine. But, because we were on a budget, it was the cheapest priced gay hotel in the area, which was still pricey, and, it was what David and Chris would call "quaint", but what I would call "old and a little worn out". We could have gotten a really nice, newly-constructed executive suite for this price if it were "straight".

This choice of hotel really impacted us too, cause with the temperature this low, the old heating (radiators! LOL) just wasn't keeping up. Thankfully the beds had huge down comforters. We needed them!

Because of the weather, even during the day it was well below zero, so we had to do all indoor things. We went to the Underground City. BFD! It's a mall. Only difference from any other mall was that it was underground and right off the subway stops. Whoop-tee-doo!

One nice spot we visited was the Biodome. This indoor zoo was housed in the former 1972 Olympic stadium. It had various climates of the world and the flora and fauna of each biome represented. Best of all, when you were in the tropical biome...it felt like it. Um, warmth!

Towards the later part of our stay, the frigid snap eased up a bit and it got to where we could go out and not become an instant popsicle. We hit the gay clubs on Ste. Catherine and I was blown away by the unbelievably hot Montreal boys. Now I realized why the weather was so cold...these guys held all the heat!

All in all, we had a good time. I remember on the drive home, just as we were heading south through Northern Vermont, a commercial came on the radio for New England Telephone. Their ad campaign, for both TV and radio in the early 90's was all about evoking sentimentality and pride in our region. It painted the emotional picture of New England's natural wonders and it's Yankee values and all. You know, one of those abstract commercials that talked nothing about the product or service they were selling, but tried to tug at the heart strings to get you to pay attention to the commercial. It worked for me. I sat there looking out the windshield of Wayne's Grand Marquis at the snow-covered rolling countryside with a little tear in my eye. It's fun to travel and see new places, but it's always nice to come back home.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Let's Ketchup...But Please, Not 2 Pounds Worth!

Snippets of Recent Stuff...

There's this young, shirtless, hot looking guy from Rhode Island bloggin' shit about his mundane life and all. (No, not me...I'm not young and hot looking anymore. And I live in Florida now, not RI).

He recently revealed that he has this thing for ketchup. He figures he eats, on average, about two pounds of ketchup every month.

Um, wow.

And folks, this guy is cut. He is NOT latherin' it on mass quantities of hot dogs and french fries, let me tell you. He's all into New Age spirituality and yoga and shit. He must down the stuff straight. Maybe squirts it right in his mouth.

Yikes.

Ya, so I have some regular blogs I visit. I especially like those with pictures and video and good writing and somewhat decent grammar and spelling. Oh, and something interesting to say doesn't hurt either. It's like a favorite TV show, but more...well...real, you know?

Reminds me, I haven't posted pictures in a long time.

I need to get back to that.

Happy Anniversary!

Yes, we have been together now for 1 whole year now. My true love. The love that is dependable and was denied me for 5 long, tumultuous years!

That's right...it was one year ago today I got my license back and bought my car.

And thus, became free again.

So, anyway, I found a way to never have to actually talk to any customers at work, yet no one knows. It seems, according to the software, that I am talking when actually, no one is on the line.

That's right, baby! I've achieved it!

George Costanza Heaven!

I get paid for sitting at my desk, daydreaming, and browsing the Internet all day. Stuff I do here at home for free.

How do I do it?

"I'll never tell..."

I wear this little silver medallion now, almost all the time. I found it on the ground over a year ago on my walk either to or from work.

It was just sitting there, undamaged, in the dirt.

I'm pretty sure it's made of silver. It looks like the old Proctor and Gamble logo...the one that caused all that controversy about Satanism and shit. It is a crescent moon with a little profile of a face, grinning, with an array of 5-pointed stars around it. The P&G logo had 13...this has 12.

I just think it's cool.

To me I think it represents our whimsical, yet reverent awe for the night sky and all it's wonders.

I'm still tying to do better in the areas of eating and drinking. Ever since the heart palpitation scare, I am taking the whole issue of my health more seriously.

I went for a nuclear stress test a week ago with my new cardiologist.

(A year ago, I had no doctors other than the Wal-Mart or equivalent-level eye doctor to get my contacts from...now I have "regular" doctors that I see (and pay either thru Aetna or out of pocket) frequently...isn't getting older grand!)

They shoot you up with radioactive fluid and make you run on a treadmill till you near pass out! Then you lay on this slab which moves you under this huge circular x-ray machine, rotating around you, beaming even more radiation into you to take pictures of your beating heart.

Makes me think of Star Trek IV when Kirk and Bones are trying to rescue the recently captured and injured Chekov from a then-contemporaneous (1986) San Francisco hospital and they come across a pair of doctors discussing a case requiring chemotherapy. Bones is aghast at the "medieval" medical practices of the day and berates the doctors for their barbarism. He later meets a woman there to undergo dialysis treatment and gives her a little pill. She is later jumping for joy, rejoicing in the fact that "...the doctor gave me a pill and I got my kidney back! I'm cured! I'm cured!".

Ric and I see each other less now, but that's fine, I think, by both of us.

As they say, absence may make the heart grow fonder...

But familiarity breeds contempt!

He decided against the PS3 but he did get a new American Idol game for the PS2...It's fun playing this karoke/competetion game.

Ah, the simple pleasures of the single and sexless middle aged set.

Well, with all the pills I'm on now....If Brent Everett himself showed up in my bed wantin' to get laid...I probably would have a difficult time getting it up.

Um, but it is Brent Everett...FUCK!!

Maybe not that difficult! ;)

Thursday, February 14, 2008

FLASHBACK: New Years Eve, December 31, 1988

"Everybody's talking all this stuff about me.
Why don't they just let me live?"
My Prerogative - Bobby Brown


Though I knew it couldn't last forever, 1988 had been the "Don't Worry, Be Happy" year for me (never mind that by this time everyone was so sick of that song, having been so overplayed on every radio station!). I had a decent apartment in EP, good friends and plenty of free time to indulge in leisure activities since I worked only part-time at a Cranston Center group home in, of all places, Cranston.

Around this date I think my weekly schedule was only about 15 hours. And only taking a resident out on a recreation 1:1. So if you don't consider going to the mall or a movie or out to eat "work", I had 100% free time.

Problem was, of course, I had very little money.

Somehow though, I scrambled up enough dough to (barely) be able to join Linda and Bill (her BF at the time) on a ski trip over the New Year's holiday up to New Hampshire.

We stayed as the houseguests of Linda's cousin in North Conway. Linda's cousin was like a younger, spunkier version of Linda. All pomp and circumstance, sporting all the status symbols she could...newly-constructed condo with designer interior including the relatively new fads of berber carpets and granite countertops. She wore her silver sable coat to counter Linda's chocolate-brown mink in an effort to show off who was the more affluent of the two (or the more politically incorrect since the anti-fur movement was really quite prominent by this time).

Linda's cousin (I'd refer to her by name but I can't for the life of me remember it) especially loved her "Baby Benz", a smaller model in a "more affordable" low 20's price range (20 grand, back then, was still a lot to pay for a car!)

I remember she off-handedly mentioned what she did for a living but I thought it was fascinating. If I had known her better or if she lived in RI like we did, I might have asked her for more info regarding her field. She made styrofoam architectural models using the then brand-new software-guided laser sculpting technique. She worked from home and architects hired her freelance for her services. She didn't seem like the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree so it must have been relatively simple. I don't think she designed the CAD, she took the rough laser sculpted piece and refined it with X-Acto knife work and gussied it up with little miniature trees and cars and shit.

The vacation started off pleasantly enough. We got there late on the 30th. I remember there was quite a bit of snow, especially once we got to Central New Hampshire. It was weird cause there was no snow all the way up from RI, but here it was like freshly packed and about 3 feet deep. That's the mountains for ya.

We went out for dinner and already I could see I was under-powered in the money department. I had to carefully price my selections without it appearing that I was broke. Didn't want to not keep up appearances. No problem about Linda knowing, she knew my financial situation. She somewhat had an influence on it when she essentially fired me from BVC, but that's another story. Plus, in this time period, that was over a year ago before, so it's no excuse.

I think we opted to get back to the condo early since we wanted to get settled after the "long" drive. (LOL, Rhode Islanders think a trip to New Hampshire...about 100 miles...is like an elaborate journey cross country! It's a well-known idosyncrasy of Rhode Islanders that they will treat a day trip to the beach like it was an expedition to Antarctica!) Plus we wanted to get up early to ski and then go out to the clubs (whatever there were in this small burg) for New Year's Eve partying.

We got up and had breakfast then headed over to the sports outfitters for appropriate gear. I especially needed stuff with my non-designer winter coat and accessories, but, alas, I could not afford anything.

The fashion for ski apparel at the time, as it would continue for the next few years was easily summed up in one word: NEON! Day-glo orange, electric tourqoise, even hot pink!
I was dressed in dull grey and dark blue. How out of style!

Since I had never skied before, I took the free beginners training class on the bunny slope, while the others went to the more mature hill. Gotta admit it was kinda fun. But when I tried to "graduate" later to the moderate slope, my acrophobia kicked it big time. This was way too high and the slope was way too steep...for me. But, amazingly with Linda and Bill's encouragement, I overcame my fears and skied down it...with my newly-learned, amaturish, snowplow stance and all. It must have been hilarity to see me, arms flailing, as I rocketed (so it seemed) down that hill to a very undignified controlled fall to stop at the bottom.

After a day of skiing, we headed back to the condo and Bill had picked up a bottle of cheap Asti Spumanti to start off the evening. Linda and I, both very experienced in the "Alcohol Arts" knew that Asti was considered "lower-class" than champagne, and California "champagne" less desirable than true French champagne. But we were gracious and accepted a glass to toast with.

Linda's cousin, though, hadn't seen the bottle when she came into the kitchen to join us in a toast, Bill had already popped the cork and was pouring our glasses. So when she took her first sip, no doubt she was expecting the mellow bite of a fine "Brut" but instead, to her surprise, got a mouthful of sickly sweetness. She made this face as if she had just been poisoned, dumped the remains of her glass into the nearby sink and said "Uhg, that's awful!"

For some reason, that one action was talked about by Linda for years afterwards.

We went to a house party thrown by one of Linda's cousins friend's, then went out to at least 2 other local watering holes. Each place seemed to be blaring out "My Prerogative", the hot song at the time...thus the quote at the beginning of this post.

Bill ended up getting drunk (me too, of course), but he turned into a real jerk and began getting demanding of Linda (which if you know Linda, you know she doesn't tolerate for long). Then he even got physically abusive and at one point pulled her hair! No one ever laid a hand on Linda!

The next morning he was all apologetic and Linda, shockingly, seemed okay with it. They must have had "make-up" sex during the night. Linda was, at the time, quite "in-lust" for this guy. I didn't think he looked that great, but Linda confided in me, like the good fag hag she was, that he had a huge dick. With Linda's ego, it was no surprise she was a size queen.

We skied a bit more today, New Year's Day, at another mountain, Wildcat. Here, Linda and Bill went up to the top in the gondola lift...I wouldn't even look at it...way too high for me. It was again off to the bunny slope for me.

Linda eventually broke up with Bill soon afterwards, and I'm sure his temper shown during this outing had a major impact in that decision.

We never visited Linda's cousin again, and I can't remember if she even showed up for the infamous 40th anniversary party Linda threw for her parents in the early 90's, but as I said, the Asti Spumanti incident lived on. Linda probably still talks about it...who knows?

Funny how...back in the eighties, Linda and I we were inseparable.
Of course I haven't seen Linda in over 12 years.

But I guess that my prerogative, and definitely another story.