there are scarier things than nightmares when you sleep

I am itching to see the sure-to-be-spooky Paranormal Activity this Halloween season. Some guys over at iO9 think that it was likely inspired by the short story "Whisper," which is available online as a free read from the good folks at Small Beer Press.

I hate slasher, I hate gore, but I love a good ghost story.

Halloween is coming. Time for the spooky.

I'd walk the Bay Line

The High Line in New York City is a success. Some in the Bay Area want to do something similar with the soon-to-be redundant eastern span of the Bay Bridge.

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Looks like a great idea to me, and so very Bay Area.

Check out this on the Bay Line.

new lease on life

Saw the SF production of Rent last night, with returning originators Anthony Rapp and Adam Pascal at the Curran last night. And as expected, it was awesome. Shilpa was excited to see her "first musical," however Rent is a rock opera and not really a musical. This is not Show Boat.

Thanks to Sean Ray of SHN for putting together a night/block for his VIPs to purchase so we could have out our little party night.

I got to see the original cast so long ago, and last night's performance brought back the magic. Go, and pay the premium for orchestra seats.

sounds perfect

From Alert Reader Barney, who asserts he's been telling us this for years. He has been, and has been sounding hot doing it too.

The kiwi accent has been rated the most attractive and prestigious form of English

Scenes from the Rodeo Drag-A-Thon

Friday night, the Bay Area Chapter of the Golden State Gay Rodeo Association hosted its second annual Drag-A-Thon fundraiser. With everything going on last month, and the late notice, I could not get my act together in time to launch a campaign and get an act together. I am also grateful I bowed out as the Stompede weekend begins this Thursday and I'd just as soon have my full beard and no "drag lines" in my chest hair. I'm just saying.

A pleasant surprise was the return of Winnie Baygo and Miss Patty Wagon (I should have known there would be a big out-of-town crowd as SF was hosting the state-wide Rodeo meeting the next day. The Shilpa and I met Skot Land at Marlena's, where we were joined by PeeDee and Mali.

This year's Drag-A-Thon featured something new: audience participation. The Rodeo Queens called upon audience members to auction up their friends to be taken backstage, remade, and perform on stage. I politely declined (if I am going to do a number, I am going to bring it.) Skot Land, however, did not escape. There was a straight man thrown up by his girlfriend(s), a Filipino rodeo friend who was thrown up by his aged mother (that was hilarious) and a honest-to-God rancher up from the valley with his friends for the weekend. He brought in several hundred dollars and got remade by Gallilea herself, including access to The Closet.

Somehow in all the melee, I became stage manager. It's manic with all those heels and hair back there, and it's always fun to be part of the action. Skot Land rocked it out as the newly golden Krimea River. I had to name some of the other new drag stars, including seen here: the Star Spangled Boyfriend.


I love that instead of covering his stubble, they enhanced it.

Krimea rocked it and was hilarious.

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And I give so many points to the mature and manly rancher who got to fulfill his drag dream Friday night. And I feel honored to have named her.

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I give you: Miss Jolli Rancher.

Flickr set.

Grand ReOpening of the Harvey Milk Memorial Branch of the SFPL

The newly renovated Eureka Valley Branch of the San Francisco Public Library, also known as the Harvey Milk Memorial Branch, will reopen on Saturday, October 24 at 1:00 p.m. with City Librarian Luis Herrera, Mayor Gavin Newsom and Supervisor Bevan Dufty. Entertainment will include "lion dancers [don't ask me], special treats and a ribbon cutting ceremony." Library services will begin at 2:00 p.m., and this branch has a lot to offer.

As a donor and Friend of the Library, I was invited to a special "sneak peak" last Thursday. This even was lovely and the librarian in me was eager to get a look at the new digs. I can't tell if the shelf space for collection is larger or smaller, but the facilities are greatly improved and modernized and the media section significantly expanded. And the restrooms may get an award for most dramatic improvement.

On hand at the thank-you reception were State Senator Mark Leno (who was at the SFPL Main earlier in the day, and was just fresh from his smackdown comments on the Governor at another meeting), City Librarian Luis Herrera and President of the Library Commission and Friend of the Blog Jewelle Gomez (and thanks to tireless organizer of the Neighborhood Library Campaign Mary Alber!) Other literary and neighborhoody friends included this handsome bunch.

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On the way out, it was fun to join the others in the game of "find your brick."


The library opens this weekend, and as they say in the biz: check it out.

phasers on stunning

Brain Farts Wednesday. And Terrance's birthday. Theme: SciFi. Resistance was, other than volts over amperes, totally and completely futile.

You should know you're going down when another team has a battery-operated star field shirt and a Seven-of-Nine eyepiece. I was able to put us into first place, and amply increase our point lead, by smacking it out in the tie-breaking lightening round. The second round we all just pulled an amazing amount of esoteric SciFi bits from our black holes, as it were.

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While we all could name (well, not all) Godzilla's insect enemy who could be killed basically by an enormous porch light and a bug zapper (that would be Mothra), Terrance was able to pull out the lesser known Godzilla-grappler Rodan. ("Hey, wasn't there that sappy Godzilla romantic film? Nights in Rodan-the?")


Sadly, Ciroc was not sponsoring the Farts that night, but we went away with non-vodka prizes, including the new DVD Newcastle and the new CD from Imogen Heap.

Update: Yes, Shilpa is sporting a shiner. For some reason, I can only attribute it to frequency of companionship, everyone assumes that I hit her. She's been merely replying, "well, I don't listen..."

Ouch.

No seriously. She walked into a door.

no homo

more madness on Muni

The SFist has posted a Muni rider's footage of a fight between two women on a Chinatown bus (looks like the 30 Stockton, judging by the tunnel.

I often wonder, what is up with these people who act out like this on public transportation? And it's creepy that I have to wonder about this often because this sort of crazy happens all the time. And at what point should one get involved? You have to weigh the "do the right thing and defuse/stop the violence" against the "doing so will likely get me knifed and that is a stupid way to die."

What is great about the video is that the guy annotated it. And that he saw the ultimate smackdown coming and got out his camera—such a sign of the times. He knew then it was going on YouTube when he got home.

Threat Level: Hell no!



There are days I am so happy that I walk to work.

no promises, no demands

JoeMyGod periodically posts 80s YouTube video flashbacks to his blog. I thought this one bore reposting for two reasons, beyond my love for the "literal versions" of 80s videos.

First bit of awesome: Line at the end of the video, "I'll miss you most of all Skank Ho."*

Second bit of awesome: Joe reports, "My buddy Ken loves to tell the story about meeting one of the clip's dancers, who told him she was credited as "Disgruntled Whore #3.""

Love it. I want to see the sheet calling for auditions for Disgruntled Whores.

And you, personally, what would you wear from your closet to that audition?

*I fear some of you may not get that joke. It's a riff on the clichéd "I'll miss you most of all Scarecrow" line from the Wizard of Oz.

Brain Farts theme tonight: Sci-Fi

Text messages have been flying, all crying the same thing:

Bring the nerd.

They mean me. I'd be insulted if I also didn't feel so powerful.

But oh, the pressure is on.

I want a team of nine so I can be player number seven.

October fun stuff in SF

As we head for the Halloween High Holy Day, San Francisco's October has lots of fun things to distract you from the colder and darker days ahead. This week—

Thursday: Dolores Park Movie Night this week is Goonies. Oh yeah. And for Saint Francis' sake pack hats and gloves. (I would love to go but I'll be getting a sneak peek at the new Harvey Milk Library and scootin' my boots afterward at Sundance Saloon)

Friday night is the Drag-A-Thon benefit, AKA Cowboys You Would Pay to See in Drag, at Marlena's. Unfortunately, I could not get my act together in time for this weekend, and my man prop is still in Ireland so Miss Otis Regrets will sadly not be reappearing this week. (Although I did consider a new persona, Pearle Haggard, with thanks to Nashville Keith.)

Saturday: Open Studios around SF starting at 11:00ish,

and for those in need of western wear there is the Rodeo Shopping Party Bus with booze, dinner and entertainment en route to a private 20%-off shopping night at the Winner Circle (including tack, which is a great deal) The bus will be picking up at Marlena's at 5:30pm, Club 1220 in Walnut Creek at 6:30pm, with shopping from 7:30pm-9:00pm. To reserve your spot on the party bus, you can RSVP by sending an e-mail to rsvp@BayAreaRodeo.com. Cost is $10.

Fleet Week is all weekend long, look for the Blue Angels overhead rehearsing every day until performances Saturday and Sunday. Look for sailors in bars and take them home for some military service. It's just good manners as a local host.

Sunday (National Coming Out Day): besides the usual Sundance Saloon, there is Hoku's SWAMP Parade, which promises to be an "Only in SF" sort of do. On the billing "Bring a number and work a look, we're bringing drag back to the streets. Get ready to make a scene!" Starting at Powell and Market at 3 pm, ambushing Union Square for a number or two then Muni to Castro and Market at 6 pm, and ending at Truck at 9 pm (Facebook event page). I am assuming Suppositori Spelling will take it with her show from there.

Your Cruise Director Suzan Revah notes the following Big Events on Sunday:

Coast-to-Coast Bridge Walk for Marriage Equality, 9:30 am at Crissy Field and march the span of the Golden Gate Bridge for and with Marriage Equality.

Twisted , The Madonna Celebration Tour, a special T-dance hosting Johnny Vicious, hand-picked by Madonna, Whitney, Britney, and Justin to remix their tracks and making a rare San Francisco visit for an extended five-hour set. $10 Before 7:30pm, $20 after, 7 pm-midnight at Mezzanine, 444 Jessie Street at Mint.

and JoeMyGod/bear/Gays-of-a-certain-age and dancers-of-all-ages favorite:

Remember the Party: Close Encounters of the Disco Kind, celebrating the trip and magic of the Trocadero Transfer, 6pm-3am at 520 Fourth Street, Advance tickets $20 online in person at Medium Rare Music or $25 door.

Brain Farts, of course, continues every Wednesday at the Lookout and I'll be there tonight with Team Joyce DeWitt tonight.

Note from Suppositori— Next Tuesday: Heathers: The Dragsical. Think "Teen Angst Bullshit with a Bodycount!" An encore performance of an original work by "deranged geniuses" Suppositori Spelling & Bulb's own Drama bin Laden! Relish the “very” talents of Trixxie Carr, Suppositori Spelling, Raya Light, Precious Moments, Chastity Belle, Ste Fishell, Cher Nobyl, Dam Dyke, Ferosha Titties, and Glamamore. Party starts at 11 sharp, show @ 11:30, $10 at The Stud (9th and Harrison)

Next weekend: The Sundance Stompede.

I love October.

Oh, snap!

And that snapping sound was his spine.

Via TowleRoad, the Daily Mail (UK) reports that street thugs pick on the wrong damn drag queens:

Two thugs who attacked what they thought were a pair of transvestites picked on the wrong men - when their intended victims turned out to be cage fighters on a night out in fancy dress.

Dean Gardener, 19, and Jason Fender, 22, singled out the two men walking along a street in wigs, short skirts and high heels.

Bare-chested Gardener was caught on CCTV confronting one of the men in a pink wig, black skirt and boob tube - then seen swinging a punch, a court heard. But the other cage fighter, wearing a sparkling black dress and matching long wig, sprang to his friend's help, delivering two lightning-quick punches to the two stunned yobs.

The cage fighters were then seen teetering away in their high heels, stopping only to pick up a clutch bag they dropped during the melee.

(The article continues, and there's YouTube of the CCTTV)

As much as I fear street violence at times, there are some non-cage-fighting drag queens I know that would bust their assess too. Some of those heels could puncture a lung too. I'm just sayin'.

bomb threats around SF

Jason has been mobile updating about two bomb threats downtown. He's had to evacuate his State building and several streets are blocked off and buildings evacuated. His mobile uploads of empty streets, including Polk Street, are pretty creepy.



His seems to have been the second bomb threat in town today. SF Gate has some "live" reporting on its blog.

Rebel Yell at Davis-Kidd

Tonight at 7:00 at the Davis-Kidd Booksellers in Nashville, Alert Reader Alice Randall will be giving her first public reading of her third novel Rebel Yell.

Wordy goodness!

On a related note, San Francisco's LitQuake celebrates its 10th this year!

Actor brutaly gay bashed by NYPD in Grand Central Station

Absolutely terrifying.

Jesse On The Brink: Police Brutality - New York's Finest!

excerpt from the police repsonse to performing a cartwheel in a nearly empty station:

The cops wrench my wrist back, handcuff me, and one of them has my head and is pounding it into the cold hard cement. I was not resisting, I was not fighting. I didn't even see them coming. They were simply going to teach this faggot a lesson! While my brains are being dashed, all I can think (besides, this shouldn't be happening!) was that this kind of injury is exactly how Natasha Richardson died. And here's the thing about having your arms behind your back and your head being smashed repeatedly into the floor of Grand Central Station by the very people who are supposed to protect you: the only thing you can try to do is move your neck from side to side -- so that the blunt force will cause more trauma to your head, than to your face. I blacked out.

Next thing I know I'm in a jail cell in my underwear. Why was I in my underwear? Why wasn't I fingerprinted, booked, or charged? My clothes are outside of this cell and I'm in there thinking if the cops can get away with this, they could make me disappear into one of those CIA web of prisons.

Surely—although painfully and after a lot of time and expense—the truth will come out. If this account is true, which I believe it to be, these cops should not just be fired, but charged and serve hard time for this level of violence and abuse of authority.

Will the Blue Wall close around them? Not if the NYPD values honor and duty anymore. There are some seriously brave and dedicated officers in the NYPD—this sullies them all I and would like to image those of character would call for their expulsion rather than defense. One imagines there is some security footage or evidence about to support the account one way or another.

I'm interested to see how mainstream media outlets cover this, if at all.

Update: The good (2004 Republican Convention notwithstanding) reputation of the NYPD is preserved. Authorities have indicated that it was the MTA Police Department (what is their relationship to the city?) conducting the bad acts. However, the question remains: will they be held accountable?

as if nighttime public transportation weren't bad enough

late night text from a certain Caledonian, after the Castro Street Fair:

I just barged on my connecting bus, in an intersection, during gridlock.
Vodka is AWESOME.

Ah, the company I keep. I think this is hilarious, and am prepared to be judged for that. Actually, I think this is funny on several levels, including the use of the CAPS lock key, and that the Muni driver recognized the futility of the situation and opened up.

I know that you know

As the fall television season starts in earnest, I find myself thinking the summer series on cable are better than the prime time network shows. Part the fun fare on USA Network, I am an unabashed fan of the simple silliness which is Psych. Comic timing and an abundance of my-generation pop throwaway jokes make me feel warm inside, and nostalgic for the completely unrealistic buddy detective shows of the early 80s—to which this is an overt homage. (Next week, Hart to Hart meet Simon & Simon, meet Remmington Steele!)

The good folks at Psych know they're just having fun with it and I think that that lack of taking itself seriously is one of the reasons it is so popular. The theme song, written by the show's creator and his garage band, is catchy silliness too. And they've started playing with that too, spinning it with the theme of special episodes.

Here's the basic opening credits (season 3):



Here's the full version of the theme song, recorded by the show's creator Steve Franks and his band The Friendly Indians (credit sequence is fan-created):



The Bollywood Murder episode was hilarious, especially now that I am all Shilpacated in Bollywood and biriani. The Bollywood episode got its own opening remix, which Shilpa says is right on old-school Bollywood goodness. We lost it.



Of course, the delicate white boy who has to have raita to survive dinner chez Shilpa thought this bit was genius:



Last week's episode reunited Gus (Dulé Hill) with his college a capella group (Blackapella). The theme song was re-envisioned by Boyz II Men:



Nice.

For other episodes the theme has also been redone in Spanish, and in holiday cheer. While rooting around, I also found fan-made music videos of Psych for Footloose and Beat It. It's nice to know that my fandom, even as it is, falls on the mild side.

In between the lines there's a lot of obscurity.
I'm not inclined to resign to maturity.
If it's all right, then you're all wrong.
Why dance around to the same damn song?
You'd rather run when you can't crawl.

I know that you know that I'm not telling the truth.
I know that you know they just don't have any proof.
Embrace the deception. Lean how to bend.
Your worst inhibitions tend to psych you out in the end.

Update: GRRR. For some reason, there are thousands of Psych clips on YouTube, but moments after I uploaded the opening credits, YouTube blocked embedding mine for a content claim by NBC Universal. I'll work on it.

bon voyage

We missed out on connecting again tonight thanks to the completely unreliable, few-bars-in-all-places AT&T service in San Francisco (since when did I become the guy staring at the phone waiting for it to ring?). He couldn't reach me, and ultimately I had to Skype out to reach his mobile. Ah, teletechnology. I can't wait for Apple to drop AT&T "the A stands for Albatross" as the exclusive service for the iPhone.



Andrew is packing now for his flight back to Australia in the wee hours of the morning. So much fun at the Castro Street Fair. Shouts out and bon voyage!

More dancing on your next visit.

new at the arcade:

Personal Space Invaders!



Showtunes night at Tribe.

This is my dance space; this is your dance space.

Shout to Todd.

Lunch with Papa John

My father has always been animated, but these days he's becoming downright archetypal.



As seen at lunch with (Franna and) Papa John at the Picnic before flying back to SF.

UCSF's Elizabeth Blackburn named Nobel Laureate

And frankly, it's about time. Still. This is exciting. Congratulations!

Hot Time, Indian Summer in the City

All weekend: Hardly Strictly Bluegrass in Golden Gate Park. Made of the Awesome.

This morning almost all my favorites are on the Banjo Stage: The Dry Branch Fire Squad, Steve Martin, Ricky Skaggs, Gillian Welch, and Steve Earle. THAT'S a lineup. Nashville freinds Guy Clark & Verlon Thompson are on the Rooster Stage, and the songwriter's circle looks like a dream lineup. Tomorrow morning things kick off with Darrell Scott on the Banjo Stage.

And of course, Love Fest, aka "Straight Pride," down Market Street.

Sunday- Castro Street Fair! Come dance at the Sundance stage behind the Castro Theater.

Update: I spent my evening at a wonderful family event—a christening barbecue party on a 1,500 acre ranch in petaluma.

Coming home, and wondering if I should go out again, I had to laugh at the SFist's comment on the Love Fest/Love Parade:

It's been dubbed LovEvolution this year, but it's all the same shit. Nostalgia for 90s-rave-era fashion, combined with deep house beats and nostalgia for 60s-era peace, love and body paint -- all reveled in by teenagers who are too young to remember either. Well, them and at least A DOZEN fully naked, middle-aged men who looked like they just wandered out of the dungeon they've been in since Folsom Street Fair just to get their picture taken with some kids. Seriously, guys -- half of these girls and boys are, like, twelve! Put some clothes on! We couldn't even stomach taking pics of the nudists, but here's some general sense of the day-drinking, dancing, and drugging that paraded up Market Street toward the afternoon rave at Civic Center.

7:45 PM UPDATE - *MAJOR* shitshow at Civic Center BART/Muni right now. The cold blew on in, everyone's coming down and shivering in their skivvies. It looked like they'd locked the Muni gates and were otherwise preventing the crowd to move through, or else they were too effed up to figure out the whole making change thing. Anyhow, see more pics at this Flickr Pool.

Make time for a Brief Encounter

I'm going to join the chorus of theater reviewers heaping praise on ACT's re-envisioning production of Noël Coward's Brief Encounter. The beyond-clever imagining of this late 1930s piece is matched only by the superb acting and musical talents of its ensemble cast.

True, there are two characters central to the play, their particular brief encounter—but by the end of the show, the secondary story lines demand equal if not more emotional investment by the audience. And the absolutely superb and versatile acting chops of the other-wise-might-be-called-supporting players make this truly a team production. While Hannah Yelland and Milo Twomey more than ably embody the ill-timed lovers Laura and Alec, Annette McLaughlin and Beverly Rudd all but steal the show, albeit subtly, as their increasingly comical and disparate characters cross the stage—revealing such theatrical skill that if done overtly it would be considered bragging. As it is, they are merely marvelous.

The play is so very English, which often adds to the humor for the local audience ("You know, I'm madly in love with you." "Oh yes, quite."). The rest of Coward's humor is at times equally dry but exceptionally amusing and characteristic of his eponymous wit.

Director and Adapter Emma Rice has concocted a masterpiece from the original 1335 play Still Life, the 1945 screenplay Brief Encounter and additional songs by Noël Coward. In fact, she has crafted an unusual sort of musical—a show that is full of music, and songs you might be surprised you recognize, but not a "musical" in the typical sense of the word. All of the actors sing and even play instruments, and the interlude songs comment on the action, but the characters do not sing the songs, nor do they sing the plot. Period persons play for the audience and set the mood before the magenta curtain rises, and continue to pepper themselves across the stage, house, and even the lounge during intermission, to entertain and carry the sensation forward.

Emma Rice also throws in a little multimedia splash that will set your jaw dropping. And the less said about that the better. I cringe whenever I hear about "multimedia" pieces, but her vision does not distract from the story nor performance, but rather jars the audience out of the ordinary, and out expectation, and into the world being created before them. The subtle use of puppets is consistent with this new reality and is simultaneously unexpected and entirely appropriate.

While Emma Rice does deserve accolades for her creation, it could not come to such fruition without this talented cast. All of them melodic, at at times balletic.

As I happened to take this performance on an Out with ACT night, I also got to enjoy the reception afterward. Much love to the cast for engaging on "Gay Night," and for being as captivating off stage as on. Kevin, my usual Statler, was on a flight to Ireland with his bf, so I invited a date to share our seats (whom I met at an Out with ACT event last year). However, with my open wallet at intermission and the open bar at the reception, he was a bit "over-served" and shortly was all over the barely-legal and entirely hetero piano player like gravy on a biscuit. Annette and I found this amusing for a time, until we had to explain to him that's not what was meant by "pianist."

So to wrap this up: check your calendars and make a date for a Brief Encounter as soon as possible. Go. Now.

And in short, as I have said before and applies to this experience: Who ever said that the greatest loves are the ones that last?

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Side note: the cast loved that it was "Gay Night." Randy used my copy in the marketing materials and was introducing me as "The Number One Gay." After a while I decided to be flattered by that.



Adam Pleeth, Stuart McLoughlin, Annette McLaughlin,
Director Emma Rice, Beverley Rudd, Milo Twomey and Joe Alessi

And of course, I had to take this photo of Beverly and me just for the caption:



Bev, Mo.
Flickr set.

BTW, winos take note: BevMo has just started their 5¢ sale.

Watch out Charlene, the B's are coming...

It's the Return of the Killer B's! Movies that is, performed live by Foul Play at the Stage Werx theater.

This month, perfect for Halloween season, BRIDE of FRANKENSTEIN!—performed in black and white!



I bet our bees are scared to death.

the lifetime costs of being gay (without legal marriage)

while immeasurable in emotional terms, are broken down in financial terms by The New York Times.

back

Hey. I returned from Nashville with a NASTY cold. My head has (mostly) cleared and I'll be posting lotsa goodies soon.



This reminds me of the AWESOME appearance of a reformed Cookie Monster on the Colbert Report. (It displays a still of "no longer available," but it still plays when clicked.)



"Me was the Robert Downey Jr. of cookies."

tetriSF

I love Nashville, but I'm also glad to be back in a town that inspires this sort of behavior, and that this is a town where this sort of actually happens.

Via Laughing Squid: A crew of 36 Freeboard skaters created a life size game of Tetris in neon on a San Francisco hill. Music is a E*Rock remix of “You Can Not Believe It” by Copy.

172 students, 1 shot

This looks like a lot of fun, and a lot of work. And clearly more fun working than I'm having. So engaging:

50 years strong

Golden

I'm flying home to Nashville to participate in the celebration of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary this weekend. Honesty, I get choked up a little every time I think about it.

The brothers and I, naturally, are preparing a presentation. They have also rummaged and found a book of photos from the wedding and some family photos from around that time. Sister-in-law Stephanie was kind enough to scan these at Walgreen's and send them to me for editing.



I can't get enough of these. What BABIES they were! Mom was only 21, and had graduated from Vanderbilt just the May before. Dad had just turned 23. (They knew each other in high school and did date at Vandy.)



And as Mom told me looking at these, "I was 21. Just graduated college, Had a job programing for IBM, was getting married, and thought I knew everything."

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She claims she is still learning. But with the three boys she has, I think by now she just might have seen it all.

will wet my briefs at this encounter

The reviews for Noël Coward's revamped Brief Encounter at ACT have been RAVE.

I'm seeing it tonight with Out with ACT (and, Heaven help me, they've used me in their promotional materials for the new season).

Unfortunately, my Statler is flying off to Ireland tonight. But the ever so (arm) charming Wil has agreed to accompany me. I am so looking forward to this.

this weekend for me: no Folsom, all Wholesome

I came out to SF for job interviews in September of 1996, and my professional host, amused that I was a gay guy from The South who had never been to San Francisco before, not only dropped me off, alone, in the Castro to "meet my people," but on a whim took me to my first Folsom Street Fair. I was dressed in what I have come to think of as Total Tennessee Frat Boy Drag. And for heaven's sakes, I was dressed in color. And in jeans and hiking boots.

Bruce (heh, a straight guy named Bruce no less) thought I might implode at the scene, but after about five or ten minutes of chaps and cheeks, the shock value wears off.

For the past four years, I have really enjoyed working Folsom as a volunteer in a booze booth benefiting the Gay Rodeo (technically, the Bay Area Chapter of the Golden State Gay Rodeo Association). This will be the first year since that virgin (heh) outing in 1996 that I will miss a Folsom Street Fair. And the surrounding parties and antics.

Instead, I will be going to a much more important and considerably different sort of affair: This Saturday, to the day, will mark my parents' 50th wedding anniversary.

Which is sort of Folsom I suppose, in that clearly my Dad is totally whipped.

away, my boys

"I'm such a mess, I can't imagine being anybody's anchor."
"Well, you weigh me down."

finding that special someone

"How is he in a relationship?"
"I don't know."
"And what is up with this pairing?"
"I know. It's like Jane Goodall meets Nell."

that's not love coming down like rain

Wow. Atlanta is some serious with the wet. The Shilpa was routed by AirTrans to return from Detroit via ATL. Flight was delayed due to "weather."

Shilpa plopped down the $12 for wifi and logged in to kill some time and report to her chauffeur (me). She told me rain was delaying her departure and didn't know when she'd get back.

I thought it must be serious based on the Facebook updates. My friend Catherine in Atlanta wrote: "There is so much rain in Atlanta, that my 3 yr old is now pretending that his cars are having to turn around b/c of flooding!! "Road Closed, have to turn around." They really do imitate EVERYTHING!!"

I commented about Shilpa and Catherine added "The rain is crazy 2 ppl at least have died from their cars flooding around ATL today. Tell your friend to hit the bar, the ATL in the rain could be a long wait!! if she needs a drinking partner, I might be available! :)"

I let Shilpa know.

Hours later, Shilpa and the other stranded souls boarded, only to deplane another hour later. They were assured that they could make their connections as all flights were being held away from ATL for a while.

Upon ultimate arrival to ATL, Shilpa followed the directions to her connection. Four agents told her it was there. The flights at the gates did not correspond to the flights on the display screens, nor instructions by agents. After more investigation, schlepping back and forth, and ultimately arguing, she found an agent who did in fact know where her flight to SFO was—in the air and departed about an hour earlier.

By all accounts, ATL was a complete clusterfk. Every counter was thronged by frustrated and exhausted passengers trying to make it to their destinations. Shilpa tried dealing with agents on the phone, who where using the same bad information she had been previously fed on the ground. She purchased another round of wifi, which would not connect.

There is not another AirTrans flight to SFO from ATL until Thursday. The best the AirTrans phone agent could manage was to put her on a 3:00 AM flight to Milwalkee (keep in mind she just flew in from Detroit) where she might, might get on an 8:00 am flight to SFO.

Last I heard this was her reserve plan, and was going to wait with the masses to talk to a physical agent to get back sooner, route more directly, or get put on a different carrier.

And she has not been heard from again.

CNN reports today that the travel inconvenience is the least of the troubles—the rains aren't over yet, and seven people have died in the flooding, with another missing and presumed dead in Chattanooga.

Flights at ATL, however, appear to have resumed.

Update: Alert Reader Caroline points to photos of the flooding from the Atlanta Journal Constitution.

Reports indicate that all fatalities were people in cars trying to ford flooding, or those who tried to rescue them. The missing man and his buddy went swimming in a flooded ditch on a bet. Just a month ago, the area was considered in drought conditions.

And check out this portion of flooded interstate in downtown Atlanta.



What was so important they had to risk driving into that?

CNN/Anderson Cooper's three minutes on it last night:



Update: 26 hours later, the Shilpa has landed.

And forwarded by Alert Reader Skot Land: "This is God's punshishment for Atlanta Police Department's raid on the Atlanta Eagle."

just when you thought AT&T couldn't get worse

It's no secret that AT&T's mobile service is crap, enough that it sullies the good name of crap.

They admit that their network can't handle the traffic of their own subsribers, much less new subscribers, and the concentration of iPhone users (AT&T customers) causes brownouts or blackouts whenever there are large gatherings of creative or tech professionals. The network is so inadequate, AT&T has forced Apple to cripple certain network-intensive apps for the iPhone. The required AT&T service contract is universally seen as the worst feature of the iPhone.

So AT&T proposes this fix: They sell you a box—not provide mind you, sell— and for a month fee—again, for a free— that you can install where AT&T's service is lacking that will reroute your cell calls through your internet connection, an internet connection you are already paying someone else for.

So to actually provide customers with the service they've already paid for once, AT&T wants their customers to pay them again for the same service they are supposed to be receiving, and even then, pay them twice (first for the equipment and then for the service).

This is called "MicroCell 3G." (And here.)

And tech and consumer sites are rightfully shouting WTF?

new meaning to eye teeth

Sight has been restored to a woman who has been blind for nine years by a process and surgeries where they extracted a tooth, carved it, fitted it with an acrylic lens, let it "incubate" in her chest skin, then sewed the whole tooth-lens apparatus into her eye.

Seriously. No wonder I heard about this from a science fiction blog.

Via iO9, story in the Miami Herald.

Video of a press conference/interview:



Shorter news coverage with animated explanation from Good Morning America:

Why we need health insurance reform NOW

In case you missed it: Insurance Company Must Pay $10 Million For Revoking Policy Of Teen With HIV

I believe the term "evil" applies here.

Excerpt:

The South Carolina Supreme Court has ordered an insurance company to pay $10 million for wrongly revoking the insurance policy of a 17-year-old college student after he tested positive for HIV. The court called the 2002 decision by the insurance company "reprehensible."....

An investigation this summer by the House Energy and Commerce Committee, and earlier ones by state regulators in California, New York and Connecticut, found that thousands of vulnerable and seriously ill policyholders have had their coverage canceled by many of the nation's largest insurance companies without any legal basis. The congressional committee found that three insurance companies alone made at least $300 million over five years from rescission. One of those three companies was Assurant.

In Febuary 2008, a private arbitration judge in Los Angeles ordered Health Net Inc. to pay more than $9 million to a breast cancer patient whose health insurance it revoked shortly after her diagnosis and while she was undergoing chemotherapy. The plaintiff in that case, Patsy Bates, a then-52-year-old grandmother and hair-salon owner, was unable to continue her chemotherapy for several months.

a dirty sort of clean

With all the fog of late my car has been caked in pollen and soot, but I held off washing it until I could support some friends' fundraising car wash. Sure, 20 bucks is a lot for a parking lot car wash, but the AIDS Emergency Fund is a worthy cause in more need than ever.

It didn't hurt that it was the Bare Chest Calendar Men hosting the AEF car wash, and in homage to the standard high school cheerleader bathing suit car washes across America, they hosted a Tighty Whitey Car Wash.


Okay, it was not so much an homage to the traditional "girls getting scantily clad to get car wash business" as much as "knowing their market." But hey, we are for nothing if not equality.

And it was all for a good cause.

More views from the driver's seat on Flickr.

Tracy Chapman wants a ride

'cause The Jamez just got himself a fast car.

J surprised me after work yesterday with a call that he just bought a car, and would be picking me shortly for a quick ride to the beach. Brand spankin' new Mazda 3, fully freaking loaded touring package. Awesome ride.

I've only known James to have a "car" for the briefest of times over the past 13 years, and the quality of said auto merits the air quotes around "car."

Now that his friends are ever so slightly developing their farmland up in Napa, James has ordered some solar equipment and a geodesic dome for a writing retreat space. A such, he'll be commuting up every weekend, and he thought it was time to buy a car. And a sweet, sweet machine it is.



And finally, another friend with a car so I don't have to chauffeur all the time.

Of course, it's just not the same without a miniature of this guy permabonded to the dashboard.

and in southern gay news

The reports on the gay-bashing police raid on the Atlanta Eagle are increasingly appalling, especially not that the police department can't even get their stories straight as to why there were there and what there were supposed to do—not to mention the illegal search, abuse, and detention of citizens who committed no crimes.

The Southern Voice reports that now that the police department and city officials have had a chance to respond, and have done so without integrity or accountability, the civil rights group Georgia Equality is now demanding answers.

Their completely reasonable questions include:

• What concrete steps (such as written policies) will the Police Chief take to ensure that the APD’s LGBT Liaison Offer Dani Lee Harris is notified in advance and involved in the coordination and execution of future police actions affecting the LGBT community?

• How is the city any safer since the raid?

• What percentage of the officers on duty the night of Sept. 10 participated in the raid?

• Why were so many officers needed to investigate non-violent dancing when violent crimes are occurring all over the city?

• How much did this raid cost taxpayers? What is the cost per charge/violation? How many work hours went into the investigation leading up to and the execution of the raid?

• What specific evidence led to the initiation of the raid? What documentation exists detailing that evidence? Why has the reasoning for the raid shifted over time?

• What actions were taken and what language was used by police during the raid and how were patrons treated?

• What training, if any, had the officers who participated in the raid received regarding LGBT community sensitivity and did they follow such training, written procedures, or policies?

• Why were individual arrested and held in custody 19 hours for ordinance violations?

Meanwhile up in Nashville, at times a considerably less progressive town than Atlanta, the Metro City Council, after MUCH strife, passes a measure protecting Metro employees from discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation and gender identity.

Now we just need to extend that protection to all employees within the City, or with whom the city has contracts, not just city employees.


Update: Protest planned at Atlanta City Hall this Saturday (tomorrow).

Fun Thursday

Two great, and very different, shows tonight:

The Country Squires happy hour at El Rio, 6:00 to 9:00: Bay Area Twangsters Christopher Fisher, Doug Blumer, Maurice Tani and Mississippi Mike Wolf get together infrequently to perform material that they don't normally play with their own bands.


Free, and drafts and wells only $3.

Alternatively: The Good Vibrations IXFF Indie Erotic Film Festival, at the Castro Theater.

trading the casting couch for a bench press

From Men's Fitness:
Top 10 Hollywood Bulk-Ups
The most impressive physical transformations in cinematic history


(Or: "How Ryan Reynolds made his career.")

Update: Shall we forget the muscle jail bait that is Kellan Lutz?

kids these days

This is just insane. Honestly, WTF are kids like this thinking? Oh, I suppose they're not, and that's the problem. I am so frustrated that a society, subculture that it may be, can get to the point that it cultivates this sort of behavior as a go-to, that the level of posturing gives way so easily to levels of violence.

From the SFGate: Loud music leads to teen's shooting in Antioch

But then again, beyond games of skill (I'm including real hunters here), I have never bought into the the gun fascination. (Although I do acknowledge that blowing shit up can sometimes be really, really cool.) I find a love for or reliance on firearms to be a massive display of insecurity. Guns are not power, and guns do not confer respect (which these boys seem to so desperately crave). The power will always remain in the gun, and not transfer to the man. The fear that people display when facing down a gun barrel? They are showing respect for the destructive power of the pistol, but this is not respect for the hand holding it.

Too often these days, the cry of justification to violence is "He was disrespectin' me!"

Of course we have no respect for you—you're holding a gun. You have so little respect for or of others, and no respect for yourself, that you've sought to borrow some externally, from a prop. All we see is a frightened little boy in oversized clothes shouting "Look! I bought some respect off the street! I'm holding it! Respect me now!" Uh, no. "Respect" is something non-transferable from objects.

Those who have respect, know it, and have earned it. And they have it inside. Neither respect nor self-worth can be acquired externally. And those that have respect, don't show it nor demand it.

All you've got is a flashy accessory that kills people and creates ripples of pain and destruction around you. That's something you want us to respect?

Oh. I get it now. You're stupid. That explains the gun.

Of course, all this being said, I'm not. So I am not about to get into a shouting match with a dumbass in Antioch over the volume of his ride. If they are insecure enough to demand attention by installing bass speakers with half the mass of their auto frame, they are insecure enough to think that a gun can make a boy a man. And they aren't smart enough to be disinclined to use it.

Update: What's with all the guns today? SFist reports Armed gunman in Levi's Plaza, and the SFGate is reporting that a someone was shot standing outside their home in Oakland today.

buoys and gulls

As big a fan as I am of the clever pun, verbal or iconic, I am easily tired by cutesy terms to distinguish men's and women's toilets. Theme restaurants tend to be the grossest offenders.

Clearly, I am not alone, judging by the public editorial to the somewhat difficult to distinguish signage of "boy dog" and "girl dog" at the Fido coffee house near Vanderbilt University.


I was grateful for and quietly applauded the rouge marker man as I went on to do my own bit of business.

required viewing

This coverage is just genius. Honest interviewing and questioning, with no logical responses. There is no maliciousness or "trickery" on the part of the documentarian, just occasional disbelief at the non-responses. Sure, the interviewer seems there to discredit these nut jobs on their "march" on Washington, but only by giving them the opportunity to speak out, which is what one presumes they want—they are after all marching and chanting and holding signs.

Basically, he lets them answer their own questions with nonsense and discredit themselves completely.

I really didn't have a grasp of how much the anti-health care/tea-bagger movement has nothing to do with either health care insurance reform or taxation. It seems to be thinly veiled bigotry looking for a cover. Out of their own mouths:



Skip ahead a few minutes if you like—it gets really entertaining when he starts asking follow up questions to their own statements. Quality responses include that Obama is the anti-Christ because his name is written out in Hebrew as the anti-Christ in the Bible, a guy holding a "Joe Wilson for President" sign saying, "Oh, I'm not for Joe Wilson for President." And of course people complaining about parts of the Health Care Reform Bill they hate, but cannot say which parts, or that they are tired of Obama's "lies," but cannot identify a single lie.

I am quite impressed with the comportment of the interviewer. This needs to be shown on network news. Perhaps Leno can add it to his Jaywalking segment too.

(Best aside after a protester could not explain his own sign: "Fascism, socialism, communism—these things are apparently interchangeable, if you don't know what they mean.")

if only the intruder had brought a pen

From the Washington Post: College student kills intruder with sword.

post to page

That's it. I need to find some way to turn all these blog posts into a book.

right on Targé

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from the makers of Bridezilla

Bitchy Bridesmaid, new from Mattel.

Strappy gold shoes sold separately.

graphic/artist

Beethoven plays Guitar Hero.

Mesmerizing.