I turn 40 this Saturday, and am having a ridiculously big blowout at Cafe Cocomo with country dancing, my favorite band (77 El Deora) and other treats.
While I was home in Nashville, my sister-in-law Emily, with assistance from her mother, my mother, and Carrington, threw me an amazing Mad Men-themed party at their house. "Wilson Hardcastle: the last great thing conceived in the 60s." Food and attire was 60s-themed, and mom even went through six costume changes at home, of wesome outfits she has kept since the 60s, only to be unable to bring herself to show up in costume. Mac and I however wore a smoking jacket and dinner jacket respectively. While everyone thought the weather had cooled considerably and were comfortable, it had cooled to a balmy 95 and was still too hot and humid for me to wear the jacket long or mingle at the bar on the screened porch.
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Emily was amazing. She even took time off work to spruce up the house and make all of the arrangements—including a period menu, a pineapple/fruit/sausage candle party thing, and even put out antique ashtrays and candied cigarettes all around the house.
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Mac and Jay has a short roast, and the cake features a photo of me dressed as a clown at one year old, with the caption "some things never change."
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It was such a special, special night and I send my love and thanks to everyone who participated. And I feel doubly-loved that I can have two 40th birthday parties on opposite coasts and have a hundred or so loved ones at each.
It feels like I'm saying that the dog ate my homework, but termites ate my comic books.
One of the projects I have been meaning to tackle each trip home is checking and re-cataloging all my comic books. I have about 15-20 long boxes in the basement, but the dehumidifier down there hasn't been working right for years and the May Day floods really upped the moisture level down there. I thought the basement was a much better environment that the scalding attic but I may have made a mistake there.
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As I started to go through the boxes, I was aghast to discover that termites ate through four boxes of carefully cataloged comic. Probably 95% of my collection was bagged (and mostly boarded), but the termites or whatever managed to turn a box of graphic novels into one giant ant farm, with tunnels and turns throughout the cube. At first I thought it was bookworms or the like, until I found there they were able to bite and pincer their way through the bags in some cases devouring entire issues inside their bags.
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My collection is extensive and thoughtful enough that I was hoping to use it to fund a down payment on a house. Now I'm not so sure. I salvaged a lot from the eaten boxes and will have to re-bag all of those, and document the new gaps in the collection. Luckily many of the other boxes were spared. I didn't get to the back seven boxes and will have to do some assessment on the next trip. But damn I could not believe how boxes of carefully collected comics could be so easily transformed into an ant/termite colony.
I returned Monday from a love- and sweat-filled, but not sweaty love-filled, week or so back home. It was great to spend quality time with Dad, and I wish I could stay longer as it really perks him up and hanging out with me is something he can do. It's also good to be around the house to take care of whatever Mom needs in addition to caring for and spending time with Papa John.
I spent Tuesday afternoon with Mom shopping around medical supply places, and picking out handrails and other assistive devices I could install while I was at home. Fortunately, the final stop was next-door to Tribe, and I decided that Mom should get a tour of where I spend so much time, and shade herself a spell with a well-deserved glass of wine. At 4:45, Tribe was just opening, and Suzy Wong's wasn't officially open for business yet. I sent text messages to friend and owner David that I was giving Mom a tour, and shared a couple of pics as it really cracked me up. Mom checked out the lucite furniture around the pool area—free stuff provided by the Camel company, but the stools were high, tilted, and so smooth that she kept sliding out.
Suzy Wong's was kind enough to pour us a glass of the Lonely Cow a few minutes before five and Franna and I were happy to enjoy the late afternoon of sunshine and finally reasonable temperatures on the back patio.
I think this is the first time my mother has sat still or relaxed by herself in quite some time. She said she felt a little guilty taking a moment for herself, which I encouraged. And it was really nice to have that quality quiet time alone with Mom away from phones and errands and obligations.
I love my momma. And am proud to be a Mamma's Boy. I'm also a Daddy's Boy, and I suppose in more ways than one.
It was a HOT week in Nashville. I sorely needed some exercise, and on the days that I did not work out in the Club's Fitness center while Dad has his PT, I would take a walk down the Boulevard. And in that heat, that was an endurance feat. Ow.
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The intense heat and humidity was often followed by intense southern thunderstorms, which were nice in their own way in the feeling of warm water washing over you when caught outside, the rumble of the thunder at night, and the drama of lightning crashes striking too close for comfort.
Although it did make for flash flooding in some areas and painful reminders of May Day.
However, the sunshine and unbearable heat would quickly return, and I managed a couple of breaks between chores to enjoy my brief access to "summer" and "sunshine" and tried to do something about my San Franciscan pallor.
It was so sunny.. How sunny was it?!... It was so sunny that Jeff Rymer had to wear two pairs of sunglasses.
(You may have to click and embiggen to see that he also has a pait on top of his head.)
Today was Mac's birthday. After dinner at the Club we went back for no-sugar cheesecake (Mac has dropped a ton of weight and is looking awesome) and gifts at their house. Leland, of course, was just oozing adorable.
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Leland hated to see us all go, and clings particularly to the rarely seen Uncle Wilson. He gave me a good-night hug, and since I could not spend the night with him but had to go to Franna and Papa John's to sleep, he took me up to his room to give me a "hugs" I could sleep with. He gave me Froggy, his favorite comfort animal, to sleep with tonight.
Ahhh. For the next week or so I've traded the Arctic weather of the San Franciscan summer for the ridiculously hot and humid summer of Nashville.
We had a cold front come through today, so it was down to 95. Nice. So far it hasn't been too bad, but that wedding was pretty hot. In more ways than one.& I think my cousins showed up Chelsea Clinton.
I landed Friday night in time to see the gay/community social set at the Wanderlust fundraiser for the Brooks Fund and the Community Foundation of Middle Tennessee at the Lane Motor Museum. Keith has all sorts of great photos, and his Flickr set is here.
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A pleasant surprise was running into the fun couple I met last year at this same benefit. Robin and Joe picked Nashville to be their home when they left New Orleans, and one thing they wanted was a city with a vibrant gay community. While that last photo above is a photo of Joe and Robin, that Joe is not her husband Joe. I clearly remember meeting Robin and Joe last year, and Robin was hell bent on partying with us afterward, but peaked a bit too soon and could make it. This year, Robin, Joe and their friends joined us for after fun at Tribe, where I was happy to run into Billy and Jennifer Frist. Their babysitter offered to take all the kids of a birthday party sleepover and Jennifer and Billy jumped at the chance for date night. And I love that they are the fun sort who end up at Tribe.
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I love that I had only been back a couple of hours and already managed to check in with 40 to 50 good friends. And I'm very happy with the picture quality of the new iPhone 4.
My first night turned out to be a long one, as Keith, Robin, Joe and I decided to close down Play, and then have a late late supper at The Hermitage Cafe and didn't get home until 4:00-ish. Lordy, their biscuits and gravy are good. Never good for you, but I consider the Hermitage a special occasion.
Saturday was a cousin's wedding, and I was feeling mighty old with these 23-year-olds running around. And I must admit with this crowd of groomsmen I was feeling a little like a dirty old man, until I realized my straight counterparts were a thousand times worse regarding the ridiculously hot young women in ridiculously short dresses.
It was a beautiful service, and amazing reception occupying the entire BMCC and two tents. Jimmy ordered 40 thousand pounds more of A/C (I don't understand that unit of measurement but that's was I heard) and it was worth it. The event took me back to my early years when we all traveled for those lush and lavish southern weddings of my generation. And it was joyful to see a new generation continuing the tradition and enjoying it so thoroughly, opulent though it may be. I love my extended family and it was a blast partying with them all again. No one needed babysitters anymore as all the kids were old enough to attend or participate in this one. (Hell, "Little David," who I have not seen since he was six or so, is now a good head taller than I am.) Here I am with cousins Biz and Kathleen (yes, we are that southern) and then a photo of some of their kids. Unbelievable.
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My mother, who someone noted no longer ages, was in heaven. All her children were there, all her extended family, and her sons were ready for dancing.
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Other Scenes from a Southern Wedding:
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But I particularly love some of these shots of Mac and Emily dancing:
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Y'all see why I love coming home...
One last thing—a very nice touch. Hostess gifts for the guests were, appropriately enough, wedding cookies. The special thing is that they were presented in miniature reproductions of the old H.G. Hill Grocery Stores bags, our family business (and I suppose the source of funding for this affair).
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