Happy New Year

Or as I'm calling it: Prince and the Resolution.

I wish I knew how to acquit you.

Seriously? I have jury duty on freaking New Year's Eve? I've got a state holiday, but not a City one. Whoever called us in, I'm feeling biased to the other side.

I feel a sequel coming on: The Urban Juror.

and I'm back

I popped out to the Castro for lunch. It seems the City is in holiday limbo between Christmas and New Year's. It is eerily quiet. Enough that it's freaking me out.

Walking down Castro toward Harvey's, I waived at a friend approaching and passing on the sidewalk with his headphones plugged into his iPhone, clearly in an animated conversation. I was surprised when he stopped mid-sentence to remove his ear buds and hugged me.

"Oh how nice! I thought you were on the phone."
"No, lip syncing. Show tonight."

And all at once I am home.

I missed you too San Francisco.

I want to build a snowman

I saw Disney's Frozen this month with the SF Movie Bears and laughed riotously all the way through it. I was hoping to see it again with the 6-year-old nephew and the family over the holidays but couldn't find the time. And Mom had are lady taken him to it. Still: funny.

On YouTube Disney released an HD version of Idina Menzel's Broadway-belting number "Let It Go," which I can't seem to stop playing over and over.


I looked up the soundtrack on iTunes and surprising found it wanting. The catching and plaintive song "Do You Want to Build a Snowman?" deserved a full treatment and not just the intermittent snippets from the movie. I remember thinking in the theater that the two sisters should have really returned to that exchange and song and I expected to hear it again at the end of the film to wrap things back together.

It turns out I'm not the only one who thought Frozen needed a reprise of "Do You Want to Build a Snowman," as one fan went so far as to write, score, and record a reprise, and match it with animation from the movie (although I wonder how she got that scene to re-edit). It's beautiful too. I wonder what the creatives at the studio think of this.


I think it's delightful.

Black-Eyed Pea Chili

Yeah. It's on.


I can't believe this will the the 17th year. Love you Dad.

southern drawl

This struck me as a particularly southern sight:



My arteries hardened a bit just from looking at it. And my stomach curdled.

hot in your mouth

The mistletoe chai latte:

It comes with a kiss.

gifted

Christmas gifts.



Some people are so much bigger on the inside.

and bright!

Merry Christmas.

Early morning with Mrs. Claus. I messaged my friends saying that I wasn't missing my father as much this Christmas, as I have become he. Fully. Down to wearing a holiday-decorated fedora, his long black cashmere topcoat, and sitting in the driveway, with the car running, honking for my mother, an hour late.

May the circle be unbroken.

Christmas morning really is for the young ones. I got completely schooled in dragons by a very authoritative six-year-old at breakfast. When I tried to debate the relative size of newly hatched baby-dragons, he adopted an exasperated tone and told me in no uncertain tones, "Now look Uncle Wilson, I know dragons…"

However, he was an overly-excited whirling dervish to see that I brought him, among others gifts, a present as big as he is.


I remember how exciting it was when the size of the present was a (ahem) big deal. As we age, the better things come in smaller packages I suppose. I have a great photo of Bradley as a child hanging over a chair and looking expectantly at a large box that had to be wrapped in black plastic leaf bags and tied with tinsel—I called the photo "Anticipation."

Also very Christmas-morning-child-like: robot presents! Including a robot raptor.  Note the Franna petting it fondly.


And pretty presents. And silly puppies. And exhausted dogs.





And as is my tradition, the Uncle series of t-shirts for all the kids. This one is a Hamlet reference:


To Bee or not to bee.  Get it? Hahahahahaha. I love that he has no concept of the reference but it's his new favorite shirt.

After an exhausting day, and a little nap, Franna and I joined Jay's family for their Christmas Day Christmas Dinner.

The Christmas night sunset was quiet and contemplative. That made me miss Dad quite a bit.  He would have paused before getting in the car and watched with me.


Dinner and cheer with Jay, the new Hardcastle patriarch, and his family was warm and lively. With cousin Price, and newest animal addition who wandered in and was adopted: Jerry Snakedusky.


Merry Christmas!

Merry!

Our family Christmas dinner is Christmas Eve, preceded by a cocktails with our oldest and dearest family friends.


So. Much. Love.





And the next generation is in high school. Where did the babies go?

Karmic Kristmas for the Mormons

Remember how the Morman church in Utah drafted and spent millions and millions to make sure gay couples couldn't be legally wedded in California? And then how that case went all the way to the Supreme Court, who ruled for equality? Well, if they hadn't pushed their religious oppression on the religious and civic freedoms of Californians, there wouldn't be the federal ruling to come back and bite them in the ass, and lead a federal judge to rule Utah's ban on marriage equality unconstitutional. And the incompetence of the Utah state attorneys resulted in no stay of the ruling. And the further imcompentence of the state request a stay from the circuit without addressing any of the four points required, resulted in the circuit court denying the motion for an emergency stay.

Or in other words, Wonkette has the Tweet of the Day:

Mormons can be morons, and karma can be a bitch.

Via JoeMyGod

together again!

Yay for Keith time!

>
Showtunes at Tribe is like homecoming every Sunday.

she's a whole grain man eater

I will always poke my head into a store with a good pun. This is so East Nashville. It's and all-things-made-from-oats sort of shop, next to the Garage Majal and I Dream of Weenie.

Gott to have it.

Shouts out to southern comfort food, biscuits & gravy and funnel cakes, and to one of my favorite Nashville people Amos and my new also favorite Nashville person Vince. Brunch at Mad Donna's, where they have tasty bacon-infused vodka. And while I do make a great bloody Mary, the mix-your-own bar is an idea which I think needs retiring, and a skilled bartender needs hiring. I have avoided home this summer, and feel very welcomed back and surrounded by love and friendship.

shelter in place

At the Christmas party tonight everyone's phones screamed in unison as the Emergency Broadcast System went into effect for a tornado warning for the area. We huddled inside for a few minutes, tuned to the local news and radar, and watched the red squall line race across Middle Tennessee. We prepared for the emergency as best we could.

sweater weather

Tribe hosted a Christmas Sweater Party and Contest tonight at Tribe. Well, they had one scheduled, but it turned out to be in the 80s today and still nearly 70° at night, so it wasn't exactly the night for wool. The word went out to the staff, and the non-text/non-twitter bartender didn't get the memo. But he's skinny enough he had turned a child's sweater into a belly shirt. He brought a special Christmas sweater he found on his travels for the delightful club owner David Taylor.

Note the label.


I love being home.

traditional family

I love that for the past six years or so I have been the escort for my parents to Ensworth Grandparents' Day/Christmas Sing/Winter Assembly. I was so glad to be back in time to go with Mom to Ensworth for this, and this year it's just the high school. The concert included Ellen playing with both the jazz and (to her surprise just seconds before curtain) the rock bands. Ellen is awesome.




And diminutive.

We tried to take a selfie. This is with me slightly crouching.


Honestly, can't get enough of her! I love my niece so much.


As is also our tradition, Mom took us to the Pancake Pantry. It's a Nashville institution. Mom's father built the first one, and my father built the new one. The always hospitable David (who took over from his father) came over to speak and visit too. I wish I could remember our waitress' name too as she became a fast friend. Bradley was able to meet up and it was three generations of Hardcastle hometown love. It was a moment to be treasured. And selfied.


It's not the heart-attack plate, but pecan pancake-y love.


This was the only shot that wasn't (1) blurry and (2) featuring my mother's fork tasting something from the unhealthy array of goodness.

High flying!

Everyone knows I have had absolutely SHITTY luck traveling, and after this summer I swore off airlines until Christmas. Southwest Flight 491 From SFO-CHI-BNA this trip was pretty amazeballs. Mostly just the last leg when I got to move to the exit row, and move to the section with the ridiculously awesome flight crew of Scott and JJ. Wow. All become right with the world. Especially the request for shopping advice.


The friendliness of the flight crew was only surpassed by my also ridiculously awesome traveling companion: John Frazier. Handsome, talented, and all around great person. I brought home two loaves of pumpkin bread for mom (her recipe). I gave one to him. Good people. And I can't wait to hear his stuff.


I love that I got to talk to someone who knows all the fun bluegrass outfits I do, like Leftover Salmon and the Dry Branch Fire Squad. And he just played a gig with Steve Martin and the Steep Canyon Rangers; so, yeah: awesome.

Shout out to nephew Brad for the midnight airport pickup. And to The Fran who was worried I would be hungry so had warm friend chicken waiting for me. Seriously? That's a mother's love right there.

why I have so much luggage

This is easy to pack for: High Saturday: 69°. Low Monday: 23°.

delay

The four hated words of holiday travel.

woof?

The long wait for my flight at SFO is made more enjoyable by watching the hot bears walk by.

holiday drag

I think someone needs to take on the seasonal drag persona of Burly Ives.

holesome exercise

After the big holiday dinner, I think it's healthy to engage in late-afternoon pick-up games with the boys. The boys back in Tennessee used to play touch football. I'm hoping my San Francisco boys are up for a little good-touch/bad-touch football.

Sundance Santa!

Last night was the Sundance Saloon Holiday Ball, and another year of fun photos with Santa. Thanks Dave Hayes!




Looking for your photo? Click through to the full set here.

run run skimpy Rudolph!

Boston has the winter speedo run, but San Francisco has the Santa Skivvies Run, benefitting the SF AIDS Foundation. It's a shirt 1-mile run through the Castro, of a self-selecting set of gym-bodied exhibitionists. A nice way to spend an afternoon of voyeurism. Which in my case was a little more hands-on as I volunteered face and body painting again. It was madness for a solid five hours, and I left lots of boys adorned with holly, mistletoe, snowflakes and lipstick kisses.

For photos of the scantily-clad revelers, you can browse the professional photos of Georg Lester, or let your fingers do a Google image search and flip through the pale skinny torsos to your winter heart's delight. That should warm you up.

New this year were poinsettias and Christmas trees. And request for mistletoe in increasingly intimate places.










Naughty boys get presents too.