Anniversary – Let’s Remember Well

In 2001, I flew back into the USA just a couple days before Sept. 11th.  A friend and I had been on a trip to Southern Greece that changed my life forever (in good ways).  On the 11th, I woke up to images of NYC and the WTC.

I knew people in the building that day.  I can only imagine their horror.

I know people who were and are members of Islam after that day.  I don’t  have to imagine their horror.  I know the abuse they received after those events, and that they continue to receive to this day.  People are lazy in their thinking – all Islam is the same, just like Roman Catholics and Southern Baptists are identical.

Sept 11th, 2001 was a day that changed a large portion of the world, but not for everyone.  That day, and today, remain just another day of struggle to survive for food and shelter, and escape from war, abuse, and poverty.  To many people, what happened in NYC, DC, and later in Afghanistan was and remains a non-event that didn’t touch their reality – let alone their world – at all.  Again, I don’t have to imagine their horror.  It’s there to be seen, and not all of it occurs outside the borders of the USA.

Today, let’s remember well, and let’s remember that we can do better than what we’ve done.

My new styPhone

Well, I finally broke down and got an Apple iPhone. Not the new 3GS, but a 3G … it was only $80, and I figured I wanted to try it before I did anything more serious. I *really* wanted an n95-like device again, but wasn’t ready to shell out the cash. How bad could the iPhone be, right?

Let me tell you … after a week and a half, I’m so glad I went with the 3G, because, frankly … the iPhone is a giant, steaming pile of rhino droppings.

I seriously don’t get what people see in this phone other than it’s sexy. There’s not one thing the iPhone does that my n95 didn’t do a little (or vastly) better. I can’t believe I can’t tether (but I can if I shell out for the 3GS I’m told). It’s data reception is so awful, that I can’t get local NPR stations to load, even when I’m in the same city with them. Everything that has been said about the “touch keyboard” is at best a gross understatement – it’s an inexcusably bad interface, and the designers should receive “death by nancy regan singing” as the punishment.

Worst of all, it’s a lousy phone. Reception is hideously bad. I have talked with friends via their iPhone for a couple years now, and I thought maybe it was just where they lived. It isn’t. It’s just a bad phone.

If you’re thinking about the new Crapple styPhone 3GS, reconsider. There isn’t anything it does better than my former nokia, except maybe look pretty.

Mushrooms and Related Forms of Life

Mushroom Farm @ Far West Fungi (San Francisco Ferry Building)

I love Mushrooms.  I could eat them everyday, much like my pizza habit.  In fact, I probably eat them with greater frequency - if in smaller quantities – than I do pizza.  Now that’s saying something.

Two years ago, I dropped 30 pounds (not counting the 147 pound idiot I was dating, but enough about Meegull – you can read about him in other posts) using a combination of things, including the supplements recommended in the Perricone Diet (featured on PBS during Beg Drives).   One of those supplements is the SX Fraction of the Maitake Mushroom.  You can buy it in supplement form, but since I *love* the mushrooms themselves, I’d rather just buy them instead.

I have a couple of choices, but I usually go to the Sunday Farmer’s Market near San Francisco’s City Hall.  Usually there is a mushroom dealer there, and more often than not, he’s got maitakes.  After that, I had to brunch or coffee, usually with my laptop and a book (or three).  It’s always a good Sunday.

This past weekend, though, I went to the San Francisco Ferry Building, and nabbed my mushrooms at Far West Fungi.  They aren’t that much more expensive (if at all) than the Farmer’s Market, and they have a wonderful selection.  My biggest problem is getting out of there without enough mushrooms to start a mushroom farm the size of my county.

Speaking of things that live on decay and bullshit …

Why do people tell my ex things, and then say, “But don’t tell Eddddddd,” hmmmm??? 

For years, I’ve told these people “pretty much anything you say to him is known to me.”  Are people that I’ve known for years really that vapid and vacuous?  Or are they really just that manipulative? It’s a conundrum for me, as I like neither answer, and yet … over the last year.  It’s happened repeatedly.  Multiple people.

My ex and I laugh about it.  Just, FYI.

Nun World Order: 30 Years of the Sisters and the Hunky Jesus Contest

Looking Over Nun World Order

Yes, I’m back.  I have to get into the habit of doing blogs again.  Now, I must have two, but that’s a story for a different time.

This past weekend, I was cajoled into attending the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence Event: Nun World Order.  It marked the 30th Anniversay of the Sisters aka SPI, and their annual event for Easter in Dolores Park which culminates in the (wait for it) Hunky Jesus Contest.

I got there first, and was soon joined by Adi and Kevin, then Xophe.  We all brought way to much food.  I was really still wrapping up my cold, so I didn’t have anything to drink until afternoon, but the other boys got started before noon (lushes).

It was a gorgeous day.  The musical entertainment was hit and miss, the highlight probably being the SF Cabaret Singer of the Year (don’t remember her name or the actual award title), singing about her dating life with the ditty:  “They Turn Gay!”

We had a great spot at the top of the hill (good choice Ed, oh, wait, that’s me).  The only time it was a disappointment was when the Hunky Jesuses got on stage.  They were tough to see.  In trade, we got to keep our hearing (big speakers that were LOUD).  I don’t even know who won, but my first choice was “Internet Jesus” who was on a big cross he was carrying about with two thought bubbles:  (BRB) and (LOL).

Priceless.

A Sticker for Your Donation!

The SPI have bills to pay, and so they come around and ask for donations.  I think they get enough from this event to cover their costs, and make a little money.  They give plenty of money to charity, so we were happy to give.  <cue Tina Turner>

In return for your donation, they give you a sticker.  You choose where it goes.  Xophe chose below his navel, hence, the photo above.  (I chose my neck.)

Somewhere along the way, “Mike” (formerly Feraz) showed up with Cristos/Cristo/Christo … never could remember what variety of that name he is.  Ran into many friends, and met an online chat friend I’ve chatted with for over a year (Hi Aaron).  It was all really nice.

We ate too much, some of us drank too much (not mentioning any names, but the first initial is ADI), and headed out when the contest was over.

We didn’t go to the Afterbirth Party, though …

The Golden Angel of 18th Street

On my way up to the ’stro, this very nice and handsome man was heading down the street and consented to a photo.  It’s hard to tell, because I haven’t optimized the color (unretouched), but he’s covered in gold body paint.  He was very sweet, and 45 seconds later, he was on his way …

It’s good to be back!

Oh, alright … we have to have *one* HJ image from the contest day.  Here ya go:

THIS is Hunky Jesus???

Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!

Prop 8

It is beyond me that anyone is surprised that this proposition passed.

I’ve been saying for some time now that “marriage” is the wrong issue to move the needle on gay and lesbian equality.   It really doesn’t do anything fundamental to change people’s views.  Frankly, people on either side of Prop 8 use the word “marriage” like there’s some agreement as to what it means.  In reality, neither side agrees on what it means.

To same-gender marriage supporters, it seems to me that with few exceptions, it’s all about so-called equality and legal rights.   Many people have told me over the past several months all the rights and privileges they think they get with State recognized marriage.  It’s really hard for them to hear that I had all those privileges in the early 90s without State marriage.

To “traditional” marriage supporters – where it’s one man and one woman – I rarely hear them discuss the legalalities.  It’s about the relationship, the commitment, the family, and as appropriate, the relationship with their religion.

While I think that the ban put in place by Prop 8 is wrong and misguided, in my not at all humble opinion, it’s the GLBTQQ* groups who are fucked in the head here.

While both sides have a “my way or the highway” attitude, let’s face it GLBTQQ* folks … we need the support of others if we want equality in anything.  Protesting, like the march in San Francisco last Friday, is a positive thing, I guess, and as it was largely peaceful, not a major detriment.  Seriously, though, if we want to swing some of the minds of people who voted for Prop 8 to be in favour of recognizing us as equal in anything let alone marriage, protesting isn’t going to do it.

Dialogue can do it.  Discussion.  Speak the same language.

“My way or the highway” doesn’t serve our community.  It hurts everyone by using the same mentality that the Prop 8 supporters used: I know what’s best, and fuck you if you don’t like it.

That attitude helps no one.

I will support efforts to repeal Prop 8, but it will come back over and over in one form or another until we change the way people think and feel.  Until we address the real, heart-felt concerns of those with religious convictions, we will battle this over and over, and not to our benefit.

Which leads me to the lawyers and political leaders who have pushed this issue in this way.  Do us all a favor, please.  You’re playing from an old book about how to make social change.  The sue and boo approach is a part of our history, and much of today’s civil rights are due to that path.  That worked in the 20th Century, but it’s not working well here.  Laws that proscribe behaviours are too late in the process as the injustice has already happened.  In the case of marriage, law may permit it eventually, but it doesn’t stop the core problem of discrimination.

Grow up, people.  This approach hurts GLBTQQ* folk everywhere.  You should all be ashamed.

P.S.  If anyone thinks attitudes in CA are close to changing, imagine what these numbers would have looked like if the Republican “base” hadn’t been demoralized in this election.  Does anyone really think this wouldn’t have been worse if the Republicans came out hard and swinging, and the economy hadn’t tanked?  It’s a miracle Prop 8 didn’t win 60-40, people.

A Vote for Change

I waited a while to post about this.

Election Day was a real challenge for me. You see, I think people thought I was kidding when I said I wouldn’t vote for the Democrat this year. A few have called me a racist, but very few to my face. Race has nothing to do with it, trust me. (My dating past alone is like the United Nations.) I just don’t like or respect this man. Case closed.

This left me with a dilemma, though. You see, back in the dark, deep past, I was originally registered as a Republican. I actually voted for GHW Bush back in the 1980 Primary – he was running on a moderate, pro-choice platform at the time. Yes, it’s true. Even then, though, I knew the evil that was Ronald Reagan, and the branch of the Republican Party he represented. I knew it would mean the end of my party as I knew it, even at the age of 18.

So, I voted for Carter. I switched parties and became a Democrat after that election. Thus began nearly 3 decades of voting for the Democratic Nominee, even when I was less than thrilled.

During this season, the more I listened to the eventual Democratic Nominee, the less he sounded different, and the less the Democrats sounded different from the Republicans. I think he promised everything to everybody at one point or another. (Post election, the BBC World Service reported about a woman who honestly believed that Obama – freshly elected that night – would pay her mortgage and other bills for her. She *honestly* believed that.)

I wanted to vote for change. I wanted to stay with the Democratic Party, but realized, as so many had said … they left me, not the other way around. How to vote for change?

And then the simple and the obvious dawned on me. I could vote Green. I knew they’d never win, but the way I could help bring about change was to support another party with another set of ideas. You see, I don’t think the American people really got much of a choice for President this election in the two big parties.

Maybe by supporting a third party, I could help get other options out there. Maybe others would have the same idea.

So, I did it.

For the first time in my life, I voted to have more options, rather than the same, no-option of the Democrats and Republicans. Rather than vote for a man I didn’t respect and could never vote for, or for a man whom I do respect, but whose ideals are antithetical to my existence and could never vote for… I voted a different way.

Did I make a difference? Did I help Change? Yes, I did. If only in me and the way I’ll think about candidates and political parties and options in the future. Hopefully, it’ll mean more and go further …

Names

My old friend Robert and I used to have nicknames for everyone we saw out.   After a recent dating experience, I have rekindled that usage, as the guy I dated had nicknames for everyone.  I can never remember the names of his friends, because they were always “The Jew,” “The Bowling Ball,” and “The Marionnette” …

Actually, I call The Marionette “Stick Girl” … but that’s because I know him from a different path.

Last night, Husband Hunter was out.  He was so named, because when he introduced himself to Robert, he said by the third sentence “I’m not looking for sex.  I’m hunting for a husband.”  He was in a most ill-advised outfit, ancient white t-shirt that was too small, had holes in the back, and did not do a sufficient job covering his now-significant stomach.

Blinky showed up shortly thereafter.  He is so named becuase he blinks *really* hard … like the old hard-contacts blink.  I actually think it’s not from that, becuase 15-16 years later, the blink is still there and there are sometimes glasses on when he does it.

I remembered others then.  Clownfish was one of my favorites.  He was kinda sexy, but his teeth and mouth looked exactly like a clownfish about to eat some coral.

Fluffy was another fave.  When I first moved to California, he was partnered to one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.  I didn’t get to know Fluffy at all until after his partner died, and I have not seen him in years.  Oh, and he was called Fluffy because, well … he wasn’t the thinest twig on the tree.

I’ve continued to nickname people with other friends.  As I mentioned in a post sometime back, I have a few stalkers.  One of them we now simply refer to as Pez after the way his jaw unhinged, and his tongue popped out one night trying to kiss me at the Midnight Sun.  Plaid is actually named after his boxer shorts – which he chose to use as a screen name on gay.com, so the world knows.  Daddy Pipesmoke was so named be he always REEKED of smoke (he’s since quit, and he’s actually more pleasant all around).  And who could forget Captain Hook, who is so named because of his prosthetic arm (no, I did NOT create that one, and Yes, he’s a friendly acquaintance who has the hots for the Other Ed).

But last night was Husband Hunter’s night.  He actually scored with one of the new faces last night, and I must say that his leitmotif has definitely changed, because they were swapping tonsils in the corner.  Just prior to that, Other Ed and I were discussing the fashion felony before us (HH and that ratty t-shirt), when we got a huge side view of the belly, to which I observed thoughtfully:

“You know what it means when they carry that high.  It’s a girl!”

I love seeing my friends spew their cocktails when they’re caught off-guard …

Passive Aggressive

So, a former friend seems to be stalking me. I learned this from a remote source, and it’s clear that I’m being monitored. While I have no doubt that some of this is concern and genuine, there’s more than a little passive aggressive behaviour here. I mean, come on … you want to know how I’m doing, well then … here’s an idea. Ask ME.

I suggested to my informant the they should write a letter and make it sound awful. Then I thought about it and said to myself, “Self. Get writing …” What follows is what I sent to my informant.

————-

Dear ,

Sorry it’s taken me some time to respond to you. I didn’t want my mother to know that you and I were still communicating. You know how she gets at times …

I’m afraid I must tell you sad news about Edward. I don’t know how much longer he’ll be with us. He is nearly always intoxicated from what I can tell, and I think it’s just a matter of time. He’s apparently moved on to Scotch as his poison of choice, and the thumping around you hear in the unit is probably him running for the bathroom to throw up as Scotch always made him sick.

He came out for a visit with his mother, and it was all she could do to survive the week. He was walking to the corner store on Old York road for booze and cigarettes (yes, he’s smoking now) twice a day. She wouldn’t let him drive, of course.

Well, I say walking, but you should also know his last fall was worse than he let on. He actually fell and his leg was crushed Volkswagen Beetle (the 1960s kind). The doctors apparently did everything they could to save the leg, but in the end, it had to come off below the knee.

Apparently, some doctor at the hospital took pity on him, and did all he prosthesis work for free. I’m told the work is exquisite, and that you can’t tell he’s even got one. They apparently used a soft wood-tone to make it look more realistic, but I don’t know if it’s redwood, slippery elm, or cherry, or what.

He’s been unable to find regular work, between the boozing and being a gimp, but he’s going out early everyday to make everyone think he’s got a job. That in mind, you know how San Francisco is. He’s apparently making enough money by working in the porn industry. One of the “in” things apparently is amputees, so he’s been getting lots of work. Apparently, he’s on film with women, too, but just gets really drunk first and then they just use the stump. I think the doctor is still sliding him some extra cash, too … he’s probably sliding him more than just cash and a stethoscope, if you catch my drift.

Well, I have to go work on my show. I’ve just added Four Jews in a Room Bitching from the musical Falsettos to the act. It’s so me.

Love, .

P.S. BTW – I’m Ed Bower, and I wrote and approved this message of nonsense. If you want to know how I am, ask Me.

————

Of course, I didn’t send it to the individual in question, but it is sadly tempting. BTW – the fall was real several months back, but not that serious, and everything else is fiction. Just so we’re clear about that!

:{)

Back to Black

Yup, I have returned to the blogosphere.  I have no idea why my blog is getting any hits, given I haven’t posted since McSame was ahead of NObama in the polls.  Nothing like a little global fuck-up to save the campaign a neophyte, self-serving jackass … but, as Sophia used to say … I digress …

I’ve just returned from a trip of Holy Obligation to the East Coast, and I must confess that I had a good trip overall.  It didn’t exactly go the way I’d envisioned – and watching my mother fall into a store like Midori Ito fell into the camera pit at World’s during her short program years ago was high on the list of “not planned events.”  (She’s okay.  Just a Drama Queen.)

Highlights included the food.  I ate some really, really wonderful food.  Some of it was not cheap.  Other food was *very* inexpensive – a little place on NYU’s Campus was yummy, and a steal for 2 people at under $20.  Mixto in on Pine in Philadelaphia – Cubano/Colombiano Food – was good for both Brunch and Supper.  Vallani on Spruce in Philadelphia – Spanish/Italian, for lack of a better description – was also amazingly good.  Lima’s Taste on Christopher in NYC was absolutely delicious for me – Peruvian food (although, I must confess the paella a friend had was not up to the standard of the rest).

And, of course, there were the people … getting to meet Julio *finally* was a joy.  Such a sweet, charming man.  And dinner with Vince was fun – even when I embarassed myself by breaking into a full blown cursing-rant in Italian before remembering that Vincey grew up in Sicily.  Oy.

And then there was the Mom Unit … and Ray … all the usual peeps.

DC got cancelled.  That was a bummer.

The “low light” of the trip had to be the flight TO Philadelphia.  I’m sorry, but children under the age of seven should NOT be allowed on red-eye flights.  There were two with in a row in each direction, and the one in the seat behind me screamed for the first 90 minutes of the flight.  I could have lived with that if it was not also *kicking* the back of my seat incessantly like a bronco at a rodeo.

I don’t blame the child.  Parents who bring children that young onto flights should be electrocuted for the duration of the flight.  Not fatally, of course, but just a low voltage to punish them for their crime.

And now I’m back … and earning my $$$$ per hour.  Even though I did *mainly* necessary spending there (many things in PA are tax free, like clothing), I spent more than I’d planned.  So, it’s time to be back in the black and make the big bucks so I can fly to Atlanta in 10 days.

Oh, did I mention that?  Yeah … Ed has a date … in Atlanta …

(oy)

Celebrity Collage by MyHeritage

This was too funny not to post …

MyHeritage: Family tree – Genealogy – Celebrity – Collage – Morph