pop politico

The Passion of the Madonna

2009-11-11T21:25:00.011-05:00

Madonna speaking to her dance troupe...
M: "What's the difference between a pop star and a terrorist?"

"You can negotiate with a terrorist".

It is one of the many telling lines from "I'm Going To Tell You A Secret," the behind-the-scenes documentary of 2004's Reinvention Tour.
The last time M created a behind-the-scenes film of her traveling circus was 1990, and a lot has changed since those days. Fortunately for this fan, much too has not changed. Madonna is still mother hen of her flock, still requires royal treatment, and still shows all of us how hard work, attention to detail, and expecting perfection... creates perfection.

Madonna admits to having an enormous ego as she gushes with self-reproach. Of course, this is no secret to any of us, but it is the point. In this documentary she proclaims she has found a new way forward and that she is striving, that we all should be striving to take responsibility for our lives, actions, and speech. She espouses the basic tenants of all spiritual paths: faith, forgiveness, loving kindness, and both the crucifixion and the resurrection—a not so subtle nod to her Catholic roots.
As aware as I am that many think Madonna is the last person to be dispensing pearls of spiritual wisdom to the masses, I am utterly transfixed by her evolution. Madonna is a Leo. I am a Leo. I come from a family of mostly Leos. I GET Leos. We need to communicate our insights, share our trivial revelations, be understood, and look hot doing it! It is natural for us to take our journey public.

And so she does. Just look at her podium! Center court at Madison Square Garden, a full-on production in which she and her dancers become tiny beams of light at the altar of her mega-church. They are there to touch off a fire storm of good will and radiant energy. This is their prayer.

As the disciples stand frozen before the altar, a platform begins to ascend slowly from the bowels of the stadium. A light beams down on a tiny glowing figure resting comfortably on her forearms, sustaining with apparent ease an upside-down Sirsasana yogic pose. The figure shifts slightly, looks directly into the eyes of her followers, sixty-seven thousand of them—and strikes a pose. Vogue.

Death by Yoga Stick

2009-11-10T13:07:00.001-05:00

I don't know why I find this so interesting. Linda Stein, a former punk-rock manager turned real estate broker and long-time friend of Madonna, was bludgeoned to death with a piece of exercise equipment in her Fifth Avenue penthouse. Her personal assistant, Natavia Lowery, has confessed to the murder.

Apparently Ms. Stein, who was sixty-two years old, blew marijuana smoke in Ms. Lowery's face and was verbally abusive. Stein uttered some racially-demeaning comments just moments before succumbing to a fatal blow to the head with a yoga stick.

Madonna Corp.

2009-11-04T00:31:00.003-05:00

I happened upon this image while randomly surfing the net yesterday, and something about it made me smile. The implication is obvious sans the seven-paragraph hatchet job that accompanied it. It was an article chronicling why Madonna is the most overrated artist in the world and accusing her of having trace musical abilities, a fact obfuscated by the skills of her various & talented producers over the years.
Guilty as charged.
So what if Madonna isn't the best singer or dancer? So what if she hides her shortcomings behind big production values and a cutting-edge support troupe. So what if she she has amassed incomprehensible wealth by surrounding herself with the very best young talent available. I don't care quite frankly.

There are plenty of artists that sing, dance, act, and write more profound lyrics. But Madonna is a visionary; she has insight and she has power. Combine that with raw sexual energy—a male sexual energy. It's the kind of energy that doesn't give a shit who disapproves; in fact, the opposition serves as a tonic and increases her will to succeed. When she fell off her horse and cracked her ribs, what did she do? She got back on the effin' horse, hired Steven Klein to shoot her & the horse in an S&M-themed photo essay for W magazine, then went on to choreograph a solid one third of her world tour in a John Paul Gaultier-inspired homage to everything equestrian. She is brilliant. Talk about creating a spectacle from nothing! It is just this sort of branding that has helped Madonna establish and maintain her iconoclastic standing throughout the world for all these years.

When Madonna hired Shep Pettibone and Andre Betts to Produce Erotica in the early '90s, she essentially was making the shrewd decision to elicit the help of young talent who had their hands on the pulse of underground sound and House music—to help her bring that sound mainstream. The driving beat combined with the sensu-sexual theatrics Madonna created around the album snowballed into a firestorm that is felt worldwide even still. A few years later Madonna developed an inclination toward the metaphysical and she tapped William Orbit, master of atmospheric electronica, to produce a trance-spiritual epic of sorts. Ray of Light won four Grammys because of Orbit's multi-layered mastery, and yes, perhaps Madge was an incidental element with regard to those awards, but that music would not have been heard by the world were it not for Madonna. She put the deal together—she made it happen. Taking ambient electronica a step further, she pulled in Mirwais to produce both Music & American Life, both of which, incidentally, went to #1 world wide. All the while critics were panning our Queen as being "washed up."

It's more than the Music Stupid! Madonna embodies i n s p i r a t i o n. She represents to me how much is possible within a single lifetime, and how a life of magnitude can be whittled from a small and potentially insignificant epicenter.

Why do you love Madonna?

Hey mr. Dj

2009-11-01T23:06:00.007-05:00

The circuit party is dead. According to this month's issue of OUT magazine, this particular genre of dance party is biting it - primarily because the young party homos that sustained them are now middle aged . Like me. For a few years now I have lamented the loss of these outings in my life, but should I really care? Has the scene changed so dramatically that it would bare no resemblance to what attracted me to it in the first place? Are young homos really becoming more main stream and assimilating to a softer style of music on the dance floor?

The big parties are in decline: White, Black, Black & Blue, Red, Cherry, and the Blue Ball are barely generating a pulse. I remember these parties as incredible rides lasting days—18 hours but who's counting—and discovering the euphoria of constant motion, dancing in 40-minute blocks and being overtaken by the music. I fucking loved it. I was also really high. I think the drugs took away my compulsion to control the scene; they helped me put my faith in a higher power: The Dj.

My boyfriend and I would begin our night at the Roxy on 18th street. Initially we would separate: he headed straight to the main floor, and I would run to the Crystal room on the upper level to hit on the Dj. It was a ritual. The Dj loved it, I loved it, and my boyfriend couldn't have cared less. That was a relationship that really worked (well, not exactly, but that's another story all together). The Crystal room at the Roxy had a wall of glass that looked out to the arena below, a crystal chandelier that hung above clusters of leather sofas, and 70s-era disco that sang down on the comparatively small group (50-ish). I loved to dance on the platform behind that wall of glass staring down on the 1500 dancers below, especially if I was dressed for it. One of my favorite dance outfits circa 1999 was a Raymond Dragon skin-tight sleeveless white mesh tank top and matching shorts, both pieces had a fat stainless steel zipper running up the front, with black Doc Marten lace-ups that nearly reached my knees. That was a hot number. So after an hour or so of flirting and pretending to be a circuit go-go boy up in the Crystal room, I would join Todd on the main floor and dance for a couple more hours before heading over to Tunnel on 11th avenue.

Junior Vasquez crafted Tunnel into an underground trance-techno train ride. Tunnel was the perfect midpoint; the music was far from the bubble gum of the Crystal Room, yet nowhere near the metallic sound of what would follow. Tunnel put me in a trance.

Around 8:00 a.m., the final leg of our club tour would land us at the Sound Factory. (Later, SF morphed into Twilo.) I loved both Twilo and Sound Factory. While SF had a more calm trance-house vibe, Twilo's sound became much harder, more industrial and repetitive. I loved it. Because of the emergence of meth in both that culture and my own life, I was even more drawn to Twilo and that sound; even sober, I still love that harder beat-driven style of music, despite OUT's insistence that the new generation has rejected it.

I stopped going out to the clubs when I got sober 5 years ago. I guess as one approaches 40 and beyond there are all sorts of reasons to give it up, but honestly, if I didn't feel that scene threatened my sobriety and if in fact that scene still existed, I would probably still be hittin' it.

TWILO: Tough

Hard Candy: The M-Filer Review

2009-10-25T00:26:00.005-04:00

Best Tracks:
Give it 2 Me
Heartbeat
Miles Away
Incredible
Beat Goes On

Someone wrote that Hard Candy is the non-stop dance record that Confessions on a Dance Floor promised to be, but wasn’t. Word.

I loved Confessions, but it wasn’t a non-stop dance album, not in the way Britney’s Blackout was and certainly not to the degree that Hard Candy is.We were all so worried that Madonna would succumb to the hip-hop arm bending of those men., but it was Madonna who won those arm wrestling matches. Hard Candy is an authentic Madonna creation with some lite street cred tossed in to give it balls.. There are two throw-away tracks: Candy Shop and Spanish Lessons. Both are lyrically silly, one in English and the other in Spanish. Candy Shop however, does open the album and sort of invites us in, "come on into my store, I've got candy galore," and so, what the hell... I'll give it a pass.

On first listen, I’ll confess to disliking Four Minutes. But didn't we all, and what was that about anyway? Love it. HC’s third track is its best. Give it 2 Me takes everything I liked about new progressive music from the early eighties, infuses it with driving electro-trance rhythms, and then amps it up with a solid techno kick. As soon as I heard this one, I knew we were going to be just fine. Heartbeat continues with that electronic vibe I love so much. Still not sure how I feel about that refrain that has Madge rapping, “see my booty get down” over and over. It only lasts a few seconds, but I could really live without that part. Miles Away, She’s Not Me, and Incredible are each arguably the most autobiographical songs on HC. All three present stellar vocal performances by Madonna and in many ways are classic Madonna . Her signature selfconfidence drips off the edges of She’s Not Me, underscoring the singular reality that is Madonna: SHE'S FABULOUS! Incredible is simply that: Incredible. It starts off bubble-gummy and then morphs into a groovy little club tune that you gotta love the very first time you hear it. It's got single release written all over it.

Madonna catches a lot of shit for regurgitating her own lyrics from album to album and perhaps legitimately so. I have never, ever seen her finesse this tendency with the skill and success that is found on Beat Goes On. Madge deftly layers in lyrics from Deeper and Deeper—an all-time favorite of mine—gives a shout out to Donna Summers' Bad Girls, and then pulls into the background as Kanye West (and I can’t believe I am admitting this in public) rips out a kick ass solo to finish it off. This is an example of a song that when originally leaked was just plain garbage. This reworked version is one of the album's best.

Dance2Night continues HC’s tradition of beat-driven dance music (love the subtle nods to Starlight, btw) and is a back-to-basics 70s disco anthem with Madonna’s famously simple and marginally-inspirational lyrics: “You don’t have to be beautiful, to be understood.” A friend referred to it as filler; I give it more credit than that. It’s fun. The last two tracks, Devil Wouldn’t Recognize You and Voices, are beautiful ballads. Not exactly ballads really, but richly lyrical, somewhat haunting, and gorgeous send offs: "Who is the master and who is the slave?”

Fine. I’ll be the slave.

Lessons I learned from Madonna: #47

2009-10-13T20:11:00.002-04:00

#47 - P e r s i s t e n c e
(or… don’t wait for an invitation, just barge in)
I made just one New Year's resolution for 2008, and that was to land a job in the fast-paced and glamorous world of property management. So, just before the New Year I made a list of all the companies in this town that deal with leases, both residential and commercial, and one by one began to interview with them. When I say "interview," I mean, barge in unannounced and ask to speak with the managing broker. It was a pretty effective line of attack in terms of opening doors, and not everyone has been offended by my tactics. In fact four of these brokers extended our conversation beyond my initial break-in. Ultimately, however, none were particularly interested in my colorful array of talents, not least of which was a penchant for starting businesses with limited applicable skills, experience, or required insurances.

After being picked off one by one, by eleven separate companies, one of them twice (unnecessarily mean-spirited phone calls, both of them!), I managed to arrange one last meeting. The initial contact was with one of this company's property managers; she was both curt and dismissive, suggesting I find a more appropriate jumping off mark for my “new career". What-a-bitch. I placed the telephone receiver on its cradle, rested for a moment as I exhaled long and hard, looked to the ceiling for strength, and began dialing once again—this time to that little bitch's boss, the President of the company.

B I N G O. Ms. Bitch’s boss and I had a nice long talk during which I was careful not to mention any lack of experience I might have in the field... and so he agreed to see me in person.Without boring you with the details of our meeting, just one week after our initial conversation, I was offered the job that drove me to espionage. My new boss immediately introduced me to everyone on site. Ms. Bitch was away at Disney World at this point, but I was introduced to her desk regardless; Mr. President motioned me to it while rattling off her title. Always looking ahead... I couldn't help but take note of the dimensions of her windows—drapes really do finish a room.

The Forsaken

2009-09-21T09:32:00.001-04:00

If Mother Teresa was forsaken by God, what chance do I have? The bombshell out of Calcutta this month is that for five decades Mother Teresa felt abandoned by God. A lifetime of her personal letters have been compiled and published in Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light; it's a rather sad and depressing account, her own account, of a life lived in spiritual emptiness and driven by obedience. " I am told that God loves me—and yet the reality of darkness, emptiness, and coldness is so great that nothing touches my soul."

In 1946, Sister Teresa claimed that she was called upon by Jesus himself to devote her life to the poorest of the poor, the sickest of the sick. She never heard from him again. I won't go into the whole sordid affair. News of it is everywhere, but of all that is whirring in the world today—wars, famine, political scandal, etc.—it is this news that is most shocking to me. I cannot fathom a faith in a higher power so strong that it could last decades with no feeling of physical or spiritual contact, just a cerebral notion of its legitimacy; to sacrifice one's life based on this memory is beyond my comprehension. Given my capacity for comprehension, I suppose that's not saying much, and yet it is saying everything about this woman. MT wrote late in her life, as international recognition and praise were increasingly being directed toward her, "If I ever become a Saint, I will surely be one of darkness." There are a gazillion interpretations, lessons, and analogies applicable and readily available, custom-made actually, to this revelation. For now anyway, they fall upon my deaf ears.

"Peter Frampton" or "How Getting Old Scares the Shit out of me"

2009-08-27T09:42:00.003-04:00

When a pair of Peter Frampton tickets fell into my lap the other day I thought, great, I loved Frampton in the 70s. Great seats too. Perfect. I honestly don't know what I was expecting. I didn't have enough time to give it a lot of thought, but I knew it would be hot to hear him sing "Baby I Love Your Way," while he wrapped his lips around that voice synthesizer thingy that he became known for long before Cher or Madonna got their hands on it. And to see him flip those blonde locks around and flash that sexy smile: Hot.

Yeah, right. That was 1978.

When the man walked out on stage, I was in shock as was, I think, the entire audience. I am ashamed of my initial reaction quite frankly, and in retrospect I think I felt my own mortality closing in on my jugular, getting ready for the choke hold and a final twist. Well, it's 30 years later, and Frampton is 58 years old. He is fairly short, balding with remnants of white hair cropped above his ears, and wearing 80s-style stone-washed jeans and a rust-colored button down shirt, un-tucked with sleeves partially rolled up. I thought, Jesus, who the hell dressed him? Actually I didn't think it. I said it out loud, to which my companion said," God, Dean, everyone isn't Madonna!"

So he dives right in with SHOW ME THE WAY. O.K. Fine, but I still can't get passed this judgment that he looks like a lecherous old man trying to recapture his mid-life crisis—it's far too late to be recapturing his youth. Then comes another standard from his days of super stardom, and the audience begins to warm up. I am still a cold fish. He breaks, takes a sip of water, and initiates a conversation as if reading our expressions or perhaps it's a reaction he gets everywhere, so he has become comfortable addressing it. He says in the most charming of British accents (I am talking Anthony Hopkins-esque), "Were you expecting a good-looking tall blonde kid with a slightly dazed look in his eyes?" The audience let out a collective sigh followed by rabid applause. He had us at that moment. "You know, it has been 25 years people, have you looked at your selves in the mirror lately?" Ouch. That's not exactly what he said, he was too tactful for that, but it was definitely what he meant. We got the message loud and clear. Hot. Very hot.

So then he breaks into a long complicated and utterly impressive guitar solo, which is later accompanied by his incredible band. It soon became clear that Peter Frampton is a superstar and a musical genius. Santana has nothing on him. More charming dialogue ensues, and now I am in love with Peter Frampton and begin to wonder if he would date me. Oh, yeah, he's straight and besides he doesn't even know me. Then he segs into I'M IN YOU, and that's it—standing ovation, screaming freaks demanding MORE, MORE, MORE!!!

Did I mention that I am in love with Peter Frampton?

What's On Your Play List?

2009-08-01T00:06:00.001-04:00

MADONNATWISTED

music/ with daft punk

what it feels like for a girl

holiday

ray of light

sky fits heaven

skin

erotica

fever/ with en vogue

frozen

don't tell me

nothing fails

hung up & shut up/ with black eyed peas

Two years ago I compiled a collection of my favorite Madonna remixes, burned them to a CD, and called it "Twisted." I liked it so much that I made 30 copies and gave them to friends for Christmas. I don't know why Madonna doesn't put out a remix-only album every now and then. She has a twenty-five-year cache of the best remixed material in the world; it strikes me as curious that a woman with her business acumen hasn't tapped into such an obvious resource. Well, I continue to produce her best remixes regardless. Right now, my favorites go a little something like this:

1. Get Together (original track)
2. Erotica/You Thrill Me (confessions mash-up)
3. Music/Disco Inferno (confessions mash-up)
4. I'd Rather Be Your Lover (original track)
5. I'd Rather Be Your Lover (remix with 2pac)
6. Nobody Knows Me (Balboa Remix)
7. Nothing Really Matters (Club 69 Remix)
8. Secret (Junior Vasquez remix)
9. Amazing

The Pet Shop Boys

2009-05-28T13:44:00.002-04:00

When Madonna remixed "Sorry" for the Confessions Tour using The Pet Shop Boys in the songs intro, I thought, "how frickin' brilliant is this." These guys are awesome. Every now and then I hear "Domino Dancing" or "Being Boring" or, whatever, anything by them and my love affair with their music is rekindled. They are such a landmark duo, having experimented in rap—well, middle-class gay rap—techno, house, and underground. Neil Tennant's lyrics are smart, funny, and poetic.

Shortbus

2009-05-07T08:27:00.001-04:00

Anyone seen "Shortbus"?
I did and I have a little something to say about it...
Apparently it was released last year, but I never heard of it until it showed up in my mailbox the other day from Netflix . I don't even remember ordering it, but what a flick; John Cameron Mitchell's big- hearted, pan-sexual mosaic of New Yorker's looking for love and orgasm is Really Hot. It is the rare example of a non porn film that doesn't exploit graphic sex as a gimmick, yet it is the best non-porn, porn, I have ever seen. Mitchell's ambitious attempt to merge his characters' active sexual lives with their still more interesting emotional lives is salaciously entertaining for roughly the first half, and then veers away from it's hedonistic & sometimes playful premise, to a decidedly more powerful one. I thought the film was brilliant...and sexy...and funny: In that order.

Check this Trailer for "Shortbus"

The Beales of Grey Gardens

2009-02-28T20:48:00.001-05:00

Please see "The Beales of Grey Gardens". Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy would have taken the bullet herself, if she were alive to see this reality show. It is a 1972 documentary depicting the everyday lives of two crazy bitches, o.k., let's just call them eccentric ladies, who happen to be the Edith Bouvier Beales, a mother-daughter duo who are aunt and first cousin to the former first lady. It's a classic Riches-to-Rags story, with a little Camelot and mental illness thrown in for fun. The Beales live in squalor and isolation at Grey Gardens, a decrepit 28-room mansion at 3 West End Avenue in the Georgica Pond section of East Hampton, NY.

A must see.

Madonna is Faye Dunaway

2009-02-18T12:23:00.001-05:00

H&M

Am I the only one who is uncomfortable with Madonna's current H&M photos? I am at once drawn to them... and then repelled by them. Stylistically the images are spot on, but there is a mannequin quality to Madge in these photos that I don't like. Perhaps it is the artists intention, but for me, she may as well be filled with embalming fluid and laying next to Anna Nicole. I am also getting a strong Faye Dunaway vibe here, which is even scarier.

Love the costumes.

Coming Out of the Madonna Closet

2009-01-10T22:47:00.000-05:00

I came out of the Madonna closet in 1989. Three albums came and went with not so much as a nod from this closet case. The bubble gum lyrics and catchy beats were a nice match for my shallow tastes, but Madonna was considered a flash in the pan at the time, it seemed pointless to get too excited about her or her work. Besides, she was the target of so much slander by "serious" musicians and their followers, it was like...why bother.

Like a Prayer changed everything. It was the first Madonna record I had ever purchased, the patchouli scented cassette jacket seemed so naughty... so Catholic. She had me at "just like a muse to me, you are a mystery", because at that instant ...I loved Madonna! I ran through the resume in my mind: four albums of solid dance music, a new persona each time, lyrics that inspire personal power, and a new album that was arguably an R&B masterpiece. Madonna got her funk on with this record and I was finally proud to proclaim my devotion out loud and for the world to hear. Madonna this, Madonna that, I just couldn't help being a bit militant. Already 6 years deep into pop fame, but for me it was all so new, and it felt akin to coming out of the closet following years of pent up repression.

Why bring this up now? I have had a similar experience recently, and because this sort of thing happens only once every twenty-five years or so, it must be shared. Heading out to my car yesterday, I grabbed a package out of the mailbox sent by my longtime pal Eddie. inside the package was a copy of Britney Spears' Blackout. Slid the disc into the CD player and went about my day.

I am out of the Britney closet bitches! I can't stop listening to this beautifully produced dance album, sooo converted ...save Britney now!,

"Running with Scissors"

2009-01-10T10:18:00.000-05:00

I love a good period piece and "Running with Scissors" certainly is that, serving up a delicious helping of high-70's retro-camp. From short- shorts, to macrame halter tops, to Annete Bening's silky hipster moo moo with matching skull cap, to a wood paneled red Ford staion wagon; this flick is one big happy nod to my childhood memory bank.

Sure it has a less edgy feel than the Augusten Burroughs memoir that it was based upon, but the performances and rich cinematography more than make up for this shortcoming. Sometimes form can trump substance. The book's power is rooted in it's ability to convey a deeply disturbing story while maintaining a light and intensly funny vibe. The film less so.

"Running with Scissors" is more about the performance than the screenplay, with Annette Bening stealing almost every scene. She walked a high wire between witty narcissist and whacked out psycho with success and ease. Rachel Wood plays the perfect Lolita-style Natalie (I LOVED HER), while Jill Clayburg breathes life into an otherwise vapid Agnes Finch (as does Alec Baldwin with his Norman Burroughs.) Both Norman & Agnes left barely visible foot prints in the book; not so the movie. Joseph Cross plays the quintessential Augusten Burroughs. Again, I could go on and on. Suffice to say this movie is well cast and brilliantly performed.

Does the screenplay lack the raw power of the original memoir? Yes. Is the original a more tawdry and pungent account of a zany if not horrific childhood? Definitely. Do I care? Not really. Besides, the sountrack kicks ass.

Help Al Help You

2008-12-24T00:38:00.003-05:00

PART TWO : POLITICO

Thank God Al Gore got his shit together. That man sold his soul during the 2000 election to get the most votes, and in the process distanced himself from his two most powerful allies: His record on environmental issues; and his partnership with Bill Clinton. He abandoned the two things I valued most about him.

Well Al is back and has reclaimed his voice, not that of a politico, but of a true American Patriot.

Building on the success of An Inconvenient Truth , he's working to get hundreds of thousands of messages to Congress demanding real action to stop global warming. Help out by signing the petition at the link below. If you do, Al Gore will personally deliver our comments to Congress. This is how shit gets done --so just do it.

Go here:

http://pol.moveon.org/climatecrisis/

Dennis Kucinich

2008-12-20T20:55:00.001-05:00

If you haven't been paying attention to Dennis Kucinich, now would be a good time to start. He is running again for the Presidency and he has a lot to say. It was he who initiated the idea of a Department of Peace , way back in 2001. The latest incarnation of that idea anyway, its been floating around Congress for over 100 years. After 9-11 the idea of a Peace department lost steam in favor of a Department of Terror, thanks to our friends over at the Project for a New American Democracy: Cheney, Bush, Rumsfeld and friends.

Now Kucinich is co-leading the movement with Marianne Williamson; they are actively pursuing congressional support for House Resolution 808 which was just introduced last week. 75 members of congress have already signed on to HR 808 in the hope that it will lead to the formation of a cabinet level position devoted to forging peace. I will be writing more about that in days & weeks to come, but for now, check out Dennis. He is one more excellent choice coming from the Democratic party, perhaps the best choice.

"I grew up in the city of Cleveland, the oldest of seven children. My parents never owned a home. We were renters, we kept moving, with each new arrival to our family. We lived in 21 different places, including a couple of cars. I know first hand what happens when someone in the family lacks adequate health care, or daycare or doesn’t have the money for college or can’t afford to pay the utility bills.
I remember where I came from. My priority as President will be to create economic opportunities and prosperity, to rebuild America’s cities, to repair America’s neighborhoods, to restore America’s industry, to renew America’s schools, to reclaim America’s health. I will ask our Democratic Congress to pass a single-payer not for profit health care plan, Medicare for All, a Universal Pre-Kindergarten bill, a Rebuild America’s Infrastructure bill, and legislation to create a cabinet-level Department of Peace and Non-Violence, which takes Dr. King’s dream and makes it an everyday reality". Dennis Kucinich

Debating in Vegas

2008-12-15T22:26:00.001-05:00

"...they aren't attacking me because I am a woman, they are attacking me because I am ahead!"

Hillary successfully dodged bullets while smiling warmly for the camera. Polarizing or not, this is why she is the most capable of beating any Republican in the general election.

Joe Biden gave stunningly straightforward answers, and demonstrated that he understands the fine print. He's extremely capable and deserves to be a top-tier candidate. Perhaps after tonight he will take John Edwards' place as the the number three guy. I like him.

Conversely, John Edwards spewed simplistic analogies and hurled lame pot shots at Hillary. He was overly pandering to "ordinary Americans" (whoever they are), and came off as an untrained attack dog.

Barack Obama was fine. No complaints here except that I don't remember a thing he said.

Bill Richardson is too fat.

Chris Dodd was impressive. For an old-time Connecticut Democrat, he is beginning to grow on me. Smart guy and more progressive than he appears.

Dennis Kucinich was peevish and ornery, not pretty when you stand five-foot-nothing. Too bad, the man could be a revolutionary.

Bill Clinton's War

2008-12-01T11:56:00.004-05:00

Before 9-11-2001

Bill Clinton sent legislation to Congress that would
tighten airport security.
It was defeated by the Republicans because of
opposition from the airlines.

Bill Clinton sent legislation to Congress to allow for
better tracking of Terrorist
funding.
It was defeated by the Republicans
due to banking interests.

New Hampshire: Who's Bitter Now?

2008-11-20T00:42:00.001-05:00

"Because of you, the tide is turning."

Hillary Rodham Clinton - Philadelphia 4/22/08

The Project for the New American Century

2008-11-05T09:06:00.001-05:00

Or...this is some scary shizim

Q-What do Donald Rumsfeld, Dick Cheney, James Woolsey, Paul Wolfowitz, Richard Perle, Bill Kristol, James Bolton, William Bennett, Dan Quayle, & Jeb Bush all have in common?

A-They are principle architects of one of the most horrifying documents to emerge from a Washington Think Tank...ever.

In the early-1990s, a group of neo-conservative ideologues on the fringe of the Republican Party's far-right, joined intellectual forces--so to speak--and formed The Project for the New American Century (PNAC). Their aim was to prepare for the day when the Republicans regained control of the White House, so that their vision of how the U.S. should move in the world would be in place and ready to go, straight off-the-shelf and into official policy.
Their mission statement declares a dedication to a few fundamental propositions: "That American leadership is good for both America and for the world; and that such leadership requires military strength, diplomatic energy and commitment to moral principle". These are soft words for an organization that is committed to on-going war; an organization that has planned American Military installments on every corner of the Globe. This is for real and these people have assumed power. An invasion of Iraq, followed by Iran, followed by North Korea,....sound familiar? Above all else, PNAC desires and demands one thing: The establishment of a global American empire to bend the will of all nations.This is spooky business.
I began to write about this 2 months ago, but stopped myself because I thought perhaps it was too heavy for this venue. It is not. Everyone needs to know this stuff. This is the reason so many believe theories that the American government knew about, and allowed, the WTC attack to happen . In one of their major reports, written in 2000, it was noted that "the process of transformation, even if it brings revolutionary change, is likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event -- like a new Pearl Harbor." 911 did after-all open the door for these guys to set into motion their diabolical plan--excuse me: "Project".

V I C T O R Y !

2008-10-20T23:30:00.001-04:00

Ohio! Texas! California! NewYork! Florida!
The Obamamaniacs will surely renew their shrieking over super delegates, and how they must represent the will of the people. I would like to remind my angry friends that the popular vote is at a statistical dead heat, and fully half of democratic primary voters have pulled the lever for Hillary Clinton. The will of the people is not yet clear-- deal with it.

Rock stars win the Big States. Sister is a rock star!

"Hillary Clinton is a fighter for change. Senator Obama, on the other hand, is a self-described conciliator. What Democrats want today, however, is a battler, not a motivational speaker. They have suffered enough from the vicious blows of President Bush and the Republicans. What the party needs is a nominee who will take the contest directly to the opposition. Come the Fall showdown, a candidacy of "friendly persuasion" is going to be swiftboated into oblivion."
Stephen Schlesinger--Huffington Post

Choose Your Scandal Wisely

2008-10-13T08:43:00.002-04:00

SCANDAL
(noun )
1.
a disgraceful or discreditable action, circumstance, etc.
2.
an offense caused by a fault or misdeed.
3.
damage to reputation; public disgrace.
4.
defamatory talk; malicious gossip.
5.
a person whose conduct brings disgrace or offense.

I find myself longing for the good old days when we had a Rhodes Scholar sitting in the Oval Office, and the scandal du jour involved a sexual indiscretion. The investigation cost a cool $50 million, a bargain compared to the $9 Billion per month the current Washington scandal is squeezing out of the federal budget. A President was forced to face the humiliation of impeachment, but no wars were waged and no one was hurt. Now that's what I call a manageable scandal.

The current Washington scandal took root in 2001 when the President, faced with a wounded Nation all too ready to strike out, capitalized on this opportunity by devising a plan to topple Sadaam Hussein. Half truths and innuendo were used skillfully to manipulate the public opinion. My outrage began here. The rationale was so flimsy and presumptuous that it seemed impossible that anyone would buy into it. Invading Iraq as part of the war on terror? Only those who are predisposed to exacting aimless revenge could accept this as a plausible rationale. Apparently Americans' abounds with this inclination. The Bush administration seized the moment and gave it's people what they wanted; an excuse, lame as it was, to strike back. The collective American personality is one of a short sighted and petulant Junior High School student, and no one understands that mindset better than '43 himself.

This is "W"'s scandal. Only this time the turpitude has resulted in 2600 American and 30,000 Iraqi casualties; while exacerbating the terror threat it was supposedly designed to forestall.The time for outrage was in 2002, when it was still possible to stop the intitial occupation. Now is the time for humility. Leaving Iraq now is the only way to begin to atone for the crime this administration committed against the world and it's own people. Adolescent children often find them selves having to swallow a difficult pill (or two) in their march toward adulthood. It is part of the growth that is necessary in order to make wiser choices in the future. We are the adolescent society in this world, and this is an opportunity for us to grow.

I recall my Aunt Patty's consoling words after the '04 election
"don't worry dear, they'll dig up some dirt on the bastard (paraphrasing here), and he'll end up a lame duck with no power to get anything accomplished"

I wish.

Cindy McCain

2008-08-18T08:01:00.004-04:00

"Cindy McCain looks like someone has twisted her ponytail into a knot and tried to give her a face lift"--Tim Gunn

Elliot Spitzer

2008-07-26T01:36:00.001-04:00

Are there any New Yorkers out there who can give me the inside story on Elliot Spitzer? There is something about this guy I always liked, so when he decided to run for Governor,I was like...hell yeah! A rough and tumble Prosecutor turned Attorney General seemed a natural for New York's top job.

So what the F#@!? I keep reading stories about his bulldozing and belligerent style. That he can't get anything accomplished because he doesn't know how to work with people? Is Elliot another Rudy? Rudy ran NYC like a real A-Hole, I was a resident of the Big Apple when hizzoner was throwing all the homeless in jail,please tell me Governor Spitzer isn't a repeat of that freak show . Tell me they got it all wrong, throw me a bone people. He's kinda hot.

Kat

Cute Couple Alert

2008-07-07T22:53:00.001-04:00

In a related story... as reported by Gina over at The Dropcloth
"Last week on the campaign trail Bill Clinton was asked to name one thing people don't know about Hillary. His reply: "That she was exonerated of all charges against her."

LOL!

Is Hillary Obama's LBJ?

2008-05-15T23:24:00.000-04:00

I woke up this morning ready to cast my candidate to the curb. I thought ...screw it. I need to embrace the possibility of something new and fresh. When I ran into Gina at the gym later in the afternoon (Obama maniac, that one), I dropped the possibility that I might switch my allegiance from Hillary at the last minute.

I have always loved the Clinton's for their toughness in battling their foes. Their foes were my foes! . I loved that they would enter a room armed with facts, always ready to meet their detractors head on . After a lifetime of fairly weak and ineffectual party leaders--McGovern, Carter, Mondale, Dukakkis--it has been refreshing to be led by the Clinton's. They set an agenda into motion, fend off its attackers, and make it happen. Only recently have I begun to devalue this approach.

Recently I have begun to wonder if the take-no-prisoners approach is really for me. The first stirrings of change began during the South Carolina debate last month. Watching Barack get clobbered by Hillary was unsettling to say the least. It occurred to me that this guy is not our enemy, he is on our side. She was taking a brother down and in the process she was diminishing her own luster. It was reminiscent of an unprovoked air strike on an unsuspecting and ill equipped territory. Except the territory was one of our own.

Then more stirrings came last week as Ted and Caroline Kennedy anointed Obama the heir to JFK's legacy, ushering in a new era of Camelot. Their speeches were heartfelt and their message compelling--"don't lose this moment"!. Then Teddy assured America, fists flailing, that Barack would be ready to serve on day one! Just as Hillary teared up in that New Hampshire coffee shop--so did I.

As I said, I woke up this morning ready to jump on to the lifeboat, the feel good express. But here's the thing... all this talk of JFK and possibilities led me to delve into the reality behind the mystique of that Presidency. The reality is that not much was accomplished. In three years almost none of JFK's domestic plan passed through congress. Lyndon Johnson, the consummate Washington insider and bully, brought most of JFK's dreams to fruition. It was Johnson who made it happen. From the creation of Medicaid and Medicare, to the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, he passed more legislation than any other President before or since.

Suddenly fighting fair isn't such a priority. I am sticking with Hillary!

Virgil Goode: In God We Hate

2008-04-02T17:44:00.000-04:00

News broke recently of a letter that our re-elected Congressman (Virgil Goode) wrote to hundreds of his supporters regarding a Muslim Representative from Minnesota. The Representative has chosen to be sworn in with his hand resting on the Koran. The ignorance and bigotry evident in Congressman Goode's letter is alarming. He implies that Congress will be over run with Koran toting Muslims if illegal immigration isn't stopped. What a fool.

You know, I have tried to be charmed by the wistfully simple approach Southerners tend to take when discussing big complicated issues, but I find it hard to remain "charmed" when anyone promotes the notion that the words Muslim and terrorist are synonyms. This guy is a moron and this letter is disgusting.

Congress of the United States

House of Representatives

Washington, DC 20515-4605

December 7, 2006

Mr. John Cruickshank7—— S—————————— Dr.Earlysville, VA 22936

Dear Mr. Cruickshank:
Thank you for your recent communication. When I raise my hand to take the oath on Swearing In Day, I will have the Bible in my other hand. I do not subscribe to using the Koran in any way. The Muslim Representative from Minnesota was elected by the voters of that district and if American citizens don’t wake up and adopt the Virgil Goode position on immigration there will likely be many more Muslims elected to office and demanding the use of the Koran. We need to stop illegal immigration totally and reduce legal immigration and end the diversity visas policy pushed hard by President Clinton and allowing many persons from the Middle East to come to this country. I fear that in the next century we will have many more Muslims in the United States if we do not adopt the strict immigration policies that I believe are necessary to preserve the values and beliefs traditional to the United States of America and to prevent our resources from being swamped.

The Ten Commandments and “In God We Trust” are on the wall in my office. A Muslim student came by the office and asked why I did not have anything on my wall about the Koran. My response was clear, “As long as I have the honor of representing the citizens of the 5th District of Virginia in the United States House of Representatives, The Koran is not going to be on the wall of my office.” Thank you again for your email and thoughts

Sincerely yours,

Virgil H. Goode, Jr.
70 East Court Street Suite 215

Rocky Mount,
Virginia 24151

My Turn

2008-04-01T18:06:00.001-04:00

I never thought we Virginians would have much of a voice this primary season. The front loaded political calender threatened to discount our vote as irrelevant. But with New York, California, and approximately thirty other states already weighing in, and with no clear front runner, it appears the Potomic primary will hold sway after all.

Hillary needs our vote. The campaign has hit a rough spot and the media are eating our girl alive. Obama is heavily favored here because of all the African Americans living in DC and Maryland, not to mention the infamous latte liberals . But the pundits have not taken into consideration a little known yet fast growing sector of the electorate: The Cafe con Leche Cu**-faces. The CCLC are bitter, aging homosexuals, who have remained staunch Clinton supporters all the way back to don't ask, don't tell. We have stuck by the Clintons through scandalous pardons, stolen White House furniture, and even promoted the Oval Office bl** job as a stress reducing approach to effective leadership. The CCLC will not let the Clintons down. This cu**-face will setting his alarm for the crack of dawn (10:00 a.m.), so he can skip over to the voting precinct to pull the lever for Hillary.

Marianne's Mission

2008-02-15T10:28:00.003-05:00

My love affair with Marianne Williamson began in New York City during the 1990's, the Fall of 1991 to be exact. At that time she was a headliner at old town hall, lecturing the first Monday of each month. I was a regular. Standing room only crowds would soldier in to that ornate vestibule to hear Marianne speak the truth. Certainly not everyone's truth, but for some, her words --an extension of her studies in The Course in Miracles--resonated on a deep level.Not unlike Madonna, this Diva had a huge gay following.

In so many ways, the teaming of Dennis Kucinich and Marianne Williamson was a synergistic bulls eye. The two have spent their lives preaching peace, awareness, and activism. The idea for a Department of Peace--one that has been tossed around for two hundred years--began its jettison to the House floor only after these two joined forces. The result is HR808, and already enjoys the support of 75 Representatives .

Marianne has been enlightening the masses for years by speaking about the principles found in The Course in Miracles. The 60's Peace movement she has said, began as an outside job, it attempted to work its way back to our collective soul. The Course In Miracles teaches the opposite. The collective soul must be touched first. Far reaching and long lasting change is an inside job that will morph outward.

"If you don't do politics, it will do you"
marianne williamson

Super Stars

2008-01-25T22:09:00.000-05:00

The Clintons have risen to their best selves this week. Tonight Bill Clinton brought to the podium his signature wit and intellect, and an unequivocal endorsement of Barack Obama's campaign for change. And Hillary Clinton, the woman who came within an inch of the nomination, handled herself with integrity and dignity. During last night's historic speech, and this afternoon's symbolic releasing of her delegates during roll call, Hillary gave us all a life lesson in how to rise above defeat, to embrace a bigger picture, and how to get beyond selfish impulse for the benefit of the many. She acknowledged a simple truth that really was obvious the whole time: Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama stand for the same things. If we look beyond the personality clashes it is clear that to support Hillary is to support Barack.

Alcoholics anonymous has a slogan for this concept--principles before personalities. In AA's Big Book, there is a section of chapter five called the promises: "...we will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away, our whole attitude and outlook on life will change. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness". In a parallel universe, the promises might speak to the lifting of animosities between Clinton and Obama supporters. There is a certain freedom in ending this struggle, in the letting go of hard feelings, of embracing a united front. And happiness too. To watch Hillary enthusiastically throw her full support and delegate count to Obama during the roll call today, was to feel...happy. For fanning the fires of discord, I am as guilty as the next guy (J. David). It was ugly, it got a bit out of hand, and so it has been difficult to muster enthusiasm for our presumptive nominee. The feud has been bitter, but by the grace of Bill and Hillary Clinton, the feud, I believe has ended... and not a minute too soon.

PTSD: It's not as bad as I thought

2008-01-02T14:00:00.000-05:00

It's 3:00 a.m. and who is going to answer that call? They both are! I couldn't be happier with the unfolding of events in Washington. We now see who Obama has chosen to surround himself with, the team he is putting together, and I suddenly feel quite confident about his success as a President.

Hillary Clinton as Secretary of State is a brilliant appointment! Better than VP, better than any other single post short of the Presidency itself. Rham Emanuel as chief of staff is another brilliant choice. I love BO installed an attack dog in that post, someone who will be less concerned with posturing and more concerned with results. And a ballet dancer no less! My biggest apprehension about an Obama presidency was that it might be a little short on political savvy. Those fears are gone.

The dream of turning Virginia blue finally became a reality. That wretched Muslim hating bigot Virgil Goode was narrowly beaten by the second coming of Christ....Tom Perriello. We love Tom! He's young, smart, and progressive and no one expected him to win. Of course our former Governor Mark Warner won election to the Senate by a landslide, and Obama became the first Democratic nominee to take Virginia's electoral votes in over 40 years.

Part 3: At Home

2007-12-31T08:44:00.000-05:00

Wheaton, IL: Living in the Bubble

2007-12-15T00:41:00.003-05:00

My sister's Pam & Laina live in the little bubble known as Wheaton, Illinois. Very white, very republican, very linear. Straight lines, flat surfaces, and blue Skies. Wheaton reminds me of Majestic, that well-heeled neighbor to Agrestic, in the Showtime drama "Weeds".

The day after I got here, a crazed gunman took hostages at a local bank; considering the town has virtually no crime, I sort of felt like I hit the jack pot in terms of excitement.

Meanwhile my sister Pam and her husband Brian took off for the weekend, to celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. They drove up to Saugatuk, a gay-friendly resort on Lake Michigan. During a romantic walk on the beach, as they strolled toward the dunes, they had a sighting...

Brian: "I think there's a naked man up there in the dunes. Do you think this is a nude beach?"

Pam: "Duh Brian, there are three nude guys staring at each other, and all these empty boats bobbing in the water, this isn't a nude beach... it's a gay prostitution ring!"

Roger

2007-12-07T19:24:00.000-05:00

The typical neurotic cat owner is overly protective, controlling, and much too concerned with the daily trappings of the feline world. If that's a crime...book me Danno! From the day I brought Bubbles and Penuche home from the orphanage, they have been fed high-protein, low fat, dry cat food. From time to time I treat them with Greenies, an organic snack formulated to promote excellent feline dental health, and Cool Claws, a delicious non-dairy faux ice cream treat. They love em both. I have never understood why cat owners would give their pets anything else; wet food is terrible for their teeth, and human food is terrible for everything else. No- Brainer in my book.

Lately I have noticed that Bubbles, my hood kitty ,the one who just lives for the hunt, has been eating less and less t home. I wasn't too concerned until yesterday, when my eighty-six year old neighbor Roger, muttered something about pork chops, fried fish, and Bubbles, all in the same sentence as I waved hello to him from across the fence.

"Say what?"

"Bubbles show like the pork meat?"

"Pork meat?"

"...and the fried catfish too, she just luvit!"

I am not one to shy away from confrontation when the situation calls for it, but once my adversary hits the age of eighty, I back off. Besides, Bubbles could use another friend in the neighborhood, and I am guessing so could Roger.

Bubbles Better Work!

2007-11-29T08:49:00.003-05:00

Meanwhile... in an effort to keep Bubbles at her
optimum weight, I have put my little black kitty on a strict diet.
At six months she is inching toward that pivotal
one year marker that can define a Cats future. Start `em early is my motto: no more than 1/4 cup of Science Diet dry kitten food daily, plus her normal helping of 6 organic dental treats.
See how svelte she looks after just two weeks! I think this Supermodel
is almost ready to do a runway show. Step aside Naomi.

She's almost as pretty as that lamp.

...at home with Penuche, Bubbles, and bouncy mouse.

Go Sox?

2007-11-20T09:12:00.000-05:00

10-29-07
I enjoy tennis, men's diving, wrestling, and pairs figure skating championships. So when the Red Sox won the World Series last night, my elation sort of took me by surprise. It was a screaming and whooping and high-fiving the kittens, sort of elation. Why so happy? Well, unless the Red Sox or the Yankees are playing, I generally don't like the sport, but I think with those two teams it is more about the struggle between good and evil that lures me in and gets my blood boiling. Red Sox: good. Yankees: evil.

I grew up in Massachusetts, where love for the Red Sox ranks up there with love for Ted Kennedy and the Pope. In that order. Until three years ago the Red Sox had not won a world championship since 1918, I only remember this fact because it was the year my father was born, and he was forever lamenting that he would go to his grave having never experienced a Red Sox World Series win, blah-blah-blah... It was that damn curse, The Curse of the Bambino, when in 1920 Babe Ruth was traded to the Yankees and the Red Sox eighty-six-year losing streak began. It was the longest losing streak in the history of baseball.

Now the Sox have won their second series in four years; my father is still very much alive; my three brothers are obnoxiously gloating up and down the Eastern seaboard; and I am inexplicably joyous over a sporting event where the players are ridiculously overdressed. Go figure.

Discovery

2007-11-01T09:44:00.001-04:00

Sipping on a big cup of Costa Rican coffee and lounging on the back deck with Lola, we watched with bittersweet emotion, as my two little ones began their lives as indoor and outdoor kitties. Lola's gaze was more of contempt than melancholy, clearly aghast that her outdoor refuge was being invaded by the bobsy twins. Both kittens have been suited up for the event all week, sporting designer collars with colorful tags. I gave them, and me, time to adjust to the idea, casually opening the door and allowing paws to poke out, then retreat in excitement (or horror). Bubbles was curious, Penoochy more fearful; both wanted squirrels and they wanted them bad.

I swore I would never do it; that they would live long happy and fulfilled lives within the confines of their castle, that I would spare them the trauma of cat fights, the horror of car accidents, and the possibility of death by anti-freeze. I swore I would never allow it, but I just couldn't do that to them, I couldn't hold them back.

Run free little kitties. Run free.

I'm too sexy for my .eyewear

2007-10-22T10:38:00.003-04:00

Doc: "You have near perfect eye sight."

Me: "Impossible, I am going blind, I can't even read the numbers off a credit card with out pulling the corners of my eyes all the way back to my ears-- it's like pulling taffy just to read a damn label"
Doc:" Yup, just the reading glasses. Slight correction is all ya need"

So I need reading glasses and weak ones at that. For me It has been decades of eye glass envy, of feeling deprived of the fashion accessory that makes some look smarter, others look sexier, and can with the right fashion aptitude, make one look both smart and sexy (Brad Pitt). I can now march into Pearle Vision Center, Rx in hand, and legitimately purchase my first pair of eye glasses. Granted, the Rx won't be necessary since the glasses I need can be purchased in 10 packs at Sam's Club.

I thought I would be a natural at choosing the perfect pair, but forget what I said about smart, sexy, and Brad; one close friend suggested I enter a Woody Allen look-a-like contest. So Jealous.

when I feel like Donld Trump, only less successful

2007-08-29T21:08:00.000-04:00

No more mid-afternoon gym work outs, my life of semi-leisure has come to an abrupt end.

Get up at 6:30 a.m., sit and stare at an empty wall for one hour. At 7 :30 begin to drink a pot of coffee, answer personal correspondence and check the Real Estate hot sheet for new listings. Hour three: Drive to the property management company and begin the eight-hour work day, which includes, but is not limited to, inspection upon inspection of recently vacated apartments, white gloving the work of painters and cleaning crews, and staring down errant carpet installers for substandard workmanship--a natural fit for someone of my temperament and exacting disposition. Drive all over town repeating this routine with two dozen contractors, at a dozen different properties, until 5:00 p.m. Head home, take a shower...stare at that wall again.

At 6:00 P.M. begin a 90- minute massage, and silently flirt with the kitties while listening to Celtic Zen. Scrape together the part of an income that pays for luxuries like food and air conditioning. 7:45 p.m.., eat dinner and return to the hot sheet. Set appointments for Sunday showings.

Voice mail from a local Spa and Hair "Lounge": "Two gallons of Wisehands by morning..."

Me: "Oh crap, the massage oil."

Next day: Mix up a batch and apply labels instead of staring at the wall. Deliver by 8:45 a.m..

Between the 9-5 job- a massage therapy business, a Real Estate sales gig, and my faltering massage oil conglomerate, I just haven't had time to read or write blogs lately. That's o.k., I am getting off on the intensity of it all, and Martha Stewart better-stand- the- *&*%$- back!

Leigh's Kitchen

2007-08-25T23:15:00.000-04:00

The last time I saw Leigh and Food in the same room , it was sometime during the `80's. Imagine my surprise when I received a call this evening from the fashionista herself, inviting moi to a last minute--and formal--repast of curried chicken with almonds, brie, and garden greens. I was all. Who is this? Just seeing Leigh stand in front of a pot of boiling water, knowing she has no earthly idea what to do with it-- well, it makes me so damn proud. You go girl!

Sir?

2007-08-23T20:43:00.000-04:00

Excuse me, but when I am addressed as Sir, as has been the case several times this week...I become very offended. I loathe this salutation, it is too, I dunno...reverential! Not that there is anything wrong with respecting one's elders, or spiritual leaders, or anyone for that matter, but aimed at me it's just a big slap in the face by mother nature. It's like the bitch is screaming YOUR OLD! Please, please, please general public... allow me my fantasy life, the one where I play a hot pop star, who never ages, and is treated with the jealousy and disregard that anyone half his age would come to expect. Thank you.

Gina

2007-08-22T13:43:00.001-04:00

Q:If you were a pirate, how would you avoid laughing when saying 'poop deck'?

A:I would grow the fuck up.

For her answer to this question and a few other auto-descriptors, not least of which, "less mean every day", I do love Gina. Her intellect, bone dry sense of humour,and no bullshit Sandra Bernhard sensibility. She is prettier and less militant, and I am in love with her writing. Check her out at The Dropcloth.

M-Filer at 45...the birthday post

2007-08-14T15:31:00.000-04:00

I turned forty-five years old on August 11th. I pride myself on having a healthy attitude about age...but this one is different. This one puts me a little too close to fifty, and it has me squirming... just a little. I can only imagine what Madonna must be going through this week, with her fiftieth birthday approaching n'all. Poor thing.

Alas, we Leos know how to deal with uncomfortable situations. We simply throw a party in our own honor and use the fawning attention as a way to cope. I invited friends and family to a tacky Japanese restaurant called Flaming Wok, the kind of place where the chef performs stupid tricks with his knife, a couple of eggs, and lots of rice. There's a crap load of flame-throwing too. Tacky yet strangely appropriate. After dinner and a chorus of Happy Birthday sung by everyone in the joint, we headed out for 18 holes of moon-lit miniature golf.

It was fun, it was glamorous, and it helped me forget.

The Simple Life

2007-07-15T00:25:00.002-04:00

July 10,2007
So nice to get away from it all! Tucked away in the center of Oak Bluffs, lies a rather substantial hamlet well stocked with nothing but gingerbread houses. These homes are akin to the shoe that the old lady lived in, they are over sized doll houses stuffed with relics and bric-a-brac. A bad case of terminal quaintness. Ours is a modest gray clapboard with Pink trim, a mild statement compared to the hot Pink and Lavender bombshell next door, or the periwinkle with magenta lattice just up the bike path. It's all so loud and I love it.

Despite it's reputation, Martha's Vineyard is more than just an upscale destination for the rich and liberal. I greatly disagree with that characterization for a number of reasons, not least of which is that I am here, and while sure I am a liberal,rich...not so much. Second,this place is not so chic, not the way the Hampton's or Newport are chic-- the Vineyard is shabby-chic, the others are chic-chic. This Island is charming and rustic in that old naval yard tradition that Massachusetts is famous for. Third, this community is largely one of artisans: writers, painters, photographers and glass blowers. And Potters. It is not just about socialites. Fundraising events on the Vineyard are rare compared to some of Americas more tony hot spots, and serve only limited purpose: environmental protection or bank rolling a Clinton. Both laudable enterprises.

So here I sit, on the front porch of the gingerbread, scamming the wireless connection of a near-by elf. It's time to shimmy my way up the narrow staircase that leads to the back of the doll house , where, with a pair of reading glasses, I'll be able to see into every outside shower stall on gingerbread circle
.

Oak Bluffs

2007-07-13T21:52:00.004-04:00

Oak Bluffs, Massachusetts
July 2007

Eddie's Vineyard-- July 15, 2007

2007-07-09T16:22:00.000-04:00

Gay Heads. The one on the left is my pal Eddie--also known as Edgie in blogger land--friends since single digits, we have been gym partners in every major American city and most gay resort Islands for almost 30 years; needless to say we met every morning at the Vineyard gym to lift weights and talk trash. Seen here with his hot Brazilian best friend of 6 years, Fabrezio.

Melissa's Hair

2007-07-05T22:01:00.001-04:00

Day 5 of the Reunion Tour landed me on the door step of my long time pal and confidante Melissa. We met while working at a mid town Italian eatery in 1990, or was it '91? In any event, we both had a few strands of grey even then, but little did I know how that trend would sustain itself--flourish even--over the course of the next 16 years. Melissa always had a shock of the gray up front, avaunt guard to some, but for her I think it was a way to add substance to an image that might too easily be written off as fluff. It's easy for pretty young woman to become marginalized because of their appearance. Mel was the spitting image of Brooke Sheilds, so that little bit of grey brought out more of a Maria Shriver. An Actress at the time, she would later become a Psychotherapist eventually pairing up with and marrying a stunningly handsome Westchester Psychiatrist. A very hot couple, but what does that have to do with gray hair you ask. Nothing really.

I never really liked the grey hair on either of us, and during a Cape Cod vacation in 1993 , I convinced Melissa to join me in hitting the bottle: The hair dye bottle. Oooh lord we looked HOT! I thought so any way, I don't think she really liked the stuff.
Fast forward to last Monday. After three years apart--the longest separation of our long friendship--I came face to face with my beautiful friend framed almost entirely in grey. I couldn't take my eyes off of her; off of it... the Grey. Did you hear? It's the new Fabulous.

Excercising Freedom

2007-07-04T11:59:00.001-04:00

Finally an opportunity to flip-off the President in person! George Bush addressed a group of newly naturalized citizens this morning at a ceremony held at Thomas Jefferson's Monticello, just two miles from my little orange cottage. The security was Nazi like, yet my friend Jenine and I were able to walk past stopped vehicles and barricades, straight down the median to the front lines, where we were met by fellow protesters, including my Peace activist cousin Erin and my Aunt Patty. A dream realized...now I can die.
......................................(above)Aunt Patty & Erin

...................................... Me, being hounded by the paparazzi

Hurricane Dean?

2007-05-20T00:08:00.000-04:00

KINGSTON, Jamaica -August 18, 2007: Hurricane Dean pummeled Jamaica with gusting winds and torrential rains Sunday after the prime minister made a last-minute plea for residents to abandon their homes and head for shelter. Many residents ignored the call, however, while tourists holed up in resorts with hurricane-proof walls

MySpace; Juan Pablo-Aug 19, 2007 8:38A : Residents trapped in shelters by Dean's str0ng winds reported hearing what sounded like remixes of Madonna songs. Other residents saw strange lights like those from a giant disco ball coming from the eye of the storm. The residents of small villages were shocked to find that after the passing of Hurricane Dean, homes had not been destroyed but had been renovated and color coordinated in nice pastels. One man's hut now resembled a sleek Manhattan loft.

The first major hurricane of 2007 is named after moi? I blush.

Corinne's Harmonic Convergence

2007-01-10T00:01:00.006-05:00

C o r i n n e 's A n n i v e r s a r y

August 16th, 2007 was the twentieth anniversary of the day my mother passed into her next life. I love to remember and celebrate her life on this day especially. I celebrate her optimistic world view, her sense of humor, and her keen sense for style. She was fun to be around! But mostly, I celebrate and honor the enormous capacity for compassion that she had through out her life.

I didn't mind her endless praise either, what can I say...the woman adored me. It was this last quality that may have done me in. Egomania indeed! My father and five siblings probably wouldn't dispute it.

Corinne died at 6:00 a.m. on the morning of August 16th, 1987. Also at that moment - at exactly 6:00 a.m.- a perfect planetary alignment formed and held for two days. It was referred to as the Harmonic Convergence. Anyone remember it? It marked the end of twenty-two, fifty-two year cycles of hell. The harmonic convergence was supposedly an opportunity for Peace to "breakout" all over the world. It was a big deal at the time and it began at the exact moment of my mother's death. It always seemed like such a good omen, a legacy of sorts.

On a side note, I find it a strange coincidence that my mother died on Madonna's birthday.

Papou's Tribute: Veterans Day

2007-01-05T18:13:00.003-05:00

"Papou" Chicago/2008

I just read that obese ten year olds have the arteries of forty-five year olds. That is so offensive to forty-five year olds, I should know! Anyway, I know this blog can be ridiculously inane at times, and this post would have been no different if not for a letter sent to my father from my younger brother, and then forwarded to me. It struck me on so many levels, not least of which is the realization that I have no real concept of what it means to sacrifice. Also, I notice that I have been a knee jerk war opponent my entire life--unapologetically so btw--because almost every U.S. military action in my life time has seemed gratuitous. World War Two was different.

My ninety year old father, who is currently undergoing cancer treatment in Chicago, is a veteran of WW II. He served in the Air Force, flying thirty-five missions over Europe, while his six Greek-American brothers also served simultaneously in the European theater. That life is so removed from anything I could ever imagine. No surprise that I didn't understand why my father was upset that I had worn his incredibly sharp green wool Air Force uniform, stripes n'all, to a Halloween party in 1998. I went as Ben Affleck in "Pearl Harbor", wearing it to a smokey venue, and not exactly showing it, or him, the respect either deserved. Anyway, it fit like a glove, and I looked great in it, but still...I didn't get it.

My brother Mike gets it. He sent this letter to him this week:

Hey Dad,
I wanted to send you an email to wish you a good Veterans Day and to thank you again for your service to our country. What your generation did to protect our freedom was second to none. The U.S. was forced into that war after Pearl Harbor was attacked and if it wasn’t for the courage, bravery and the strong character of your generation, we wouldn’t be where we are today. I’ve spoken with you about this before, but it makes me proud when you said that you were not upset that the country DRAFTED people into the military, that you KNEW you had to get in there and fight back to protect our {Country} regardless if they drafted you or not.

I appreciate you sharing some of your stories with me over the years, like crash landing in Brussels when you thought you were over Germany and had to make a decision to bring her down or jump. You guys decided to bring the big bird down to the ground and take your chances. The ball turret should have dug into the ground and force the front of the plane into the ground but by the grace of god the ball turret sheared off on impact and you were able to belly in to the field successfully. The landing was rough, but you survived. You and your men got out of there as quick as you could, thinking you were in Germany (but in reality you had made it to Brussels, a safe zone). As you were running out, the natives were running in to the plane and ransacking it. You didn’t care what they took, you were just happy to be alive.

Or, how about during one of your first of 35 bombing missions when the heavy flak pierced the thin plane lining and narrowly missed you, but did cut your oxygen hose. You knew from basic training that a man can only survive a few minutes without sufficient oxygen. You were running around the plane looking for a replacement hose unsuccessfully and desperately yelled at the pilot in the cockpit about your dire situation. He calmed you down and showed you the location of a replacement air hose. You were so worked up that you started getting sick out of the bombing doors, but you kept going and got your mission completed.

Or, how about the time you got caught without your dog tags by the MP and they put you in a holding cell. You kept telling the police that you needed to play ping pong on your Captain’s team that night. The police kept saying, you’re not going anywhere tonight! You asked to make one call, and when you reached your Captain he said, “let me talk to who ever is in charge over there”. When the military policeman got off the phone with your Captain he turned to you and said “why didn’t you tell me you were playing ping pong tonight with the Captain?!”. He let you go.

These are only 3 of the many war stories that we have discussed over the years, thank you for sharing them with me. Thanks again for your sacrifice.

Mike