Joyner joiner

Nashville November, Part 1.

I'm finally getting around to posting some of the fun bits from my recent Nashville trip. Mostly, the trip was about hanging around and spending time with Mom and Dad. Dad's decline continues, but he continues to aim for good spirits and I am glad for that. While I am trying to make a visit home about every other month, I can still plan the visits around super happy fun times. This trip was scheduled around ArtRageous, which you already know if you've been reading this blog with any regularity.

I arrived Nashville late Thursday night and had planned a surprise party for EJ Friday night. We had to switch that to a Saturday lunch to accommodate Jay Joyner's birthday party. Jay and I were in the same class in high school, and hung out a lot with each other and Hampton junior and senior year, as baby gays are wont to gravitate toward each other. I haven't spoken to Jay much since high school, and was surprised to learn that he has become EJ's new BFF. Although knowing that, I should not have been surprised to see so many of EJ's/brother Mac's friends at his birthday dinner as he would have met them through EJ.

Chuck moved back to Nashville last Christmas and as another gay MBA alumnus he and Jay have connected as well. So despite my relative estrangement from Jay, I knew almost everyone at the dinner party. Chuck, while he does have his own tag in the blog, has no last name in the blog. When you are made of the pretty, it makes for some sicko stalkers. And of course there was the whole job-search last Christmas when the economy tanked.

Chuck remains a super happy fun time.

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EJ had offered to pick me up, but surprised me by showing up with limo bus and driver. And some Dom. The chauffeuring was a good idea as we had to head out to Bumfuck Franklin for drinks and dinner.

After pre-drinks at Jay's, we went for dinner at Sol. Really, I came from California to Franklin Tennessee for Mexican food? The vodka must have made be doubly foolish as I thought that the seafood enchilada was a good idea at the time. Flash forward to 2:00 AM and I am power-expelling it by any and every means possible. Not so much Sol as S.O.L.

Chuck has a new boyfriend since his relocation to Nashville, and this was my first opportunity to spend any real quality time with him.

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Like the Josh. Good guy. And a personal trainer, which explains why Chucks biceps are now obscene. But is with all the Nashville guys shaving their chests? Even if they have muscles, fur just makes them look better. Stubble? Not so much. It's a simple three step process: (1) grow the muscles (2) keep the fur (3) call Wilson.

I'm just sayin'.

(By the way, that's the fun Carol Scott also in the photo, who I've only seen a few times since I ran into her at the Oakland airport after a UT game.)

Chuck and Josh could not make it to ArtRageous because they were, and I am not making this up, at the Miss Georgia pageant. As a trainer, Josh had three clients competing, and not a Carrie "Miss Busy Fingers" Prejean in the bunch.

Of course, all that talk of Miss Georgia World devolved into an endless round of Suzanne Sugarbaker impressions.

And when she threw that baton into the air, it flew higher, further, faster than any baton has ever flown before, hitting a transformer and showering the darkened arena with sparks! And when it finally did come down, Marjorie, my sister caught that baton, and 12,000 people jumped to their feet for sixteen and one-half minutes of uninterrupted thunderous ovation, as flames illuminated her tear-stained face! And that, Marjorie, just so you will know, and your children will someday know, is the night the lights went out in George-JAH.

Flickr set.

Nashville November, Part 2.

enjoying the season

I do love the holidays in Nashville. Traditions change, but I am blessed to be surrounded by loving family and friends, and enduring friendly traditions whose trappings may change, but the warmth does not.

The Warners used to host Christmas night every year, inviting the neighborhood, family, and friends of the children (the youngest of these "children" is a pulminologist with three kids of her own these days). the Warners have added on tho their house (across the street from our) to accomodate their three kids' husbands and multiple families, none of whom live in Nashville any longer. So when the three children, three spouses, and nine children drop in, it's a full house.

And the new puppy Nauset.

Big Sloan made a deal with Little Sloan: Big Sloan gave Little Sloan $50. The puppy can play in the house, but every time he "makes a mess," Little Sloan has to give back $5, and clean up the puppy poo/piddle. I thought this was a good incentive for Little Sloan to take the puppy on frequent trips outside to do his dirty little business. Apparently, just enough, as he broke even by the end of their visit.

Also dropping in for drinks with the family are close friends The Baxters. Emme Baxter (seen here at Steeplechase) was a Nelson, and you may remember mention or clips of childhood bestest friend Carrington Nelson (now Fox) here in the blog. Emme and Butch with their children Sloan (girl, younger) and Gage (boy, older, a friend of my nephew Bradley) have visited SF and me once or twice, usually on a tandem spring break trip with my brother's family. Emme and Mary Laird (Warner)'s friends Ferrin (whose name confuses everyone) and her husband (whose name I forgot) also joined for a little love. I promised to put her in the blog so here she is:

The Lovely Ferrin, Emme, and Ferrin's Sextoy husband.

Sloan the Elder and Gage Baxter

Gage, while still small of stature for his age, has not only become a medal-winning swimmer but is also the lead singer in a high school band. The gathered parents and friends bade him sing for us. And cleary he is not shy crooning for a n audience. His rendition of Signed, Sealed, Delivered was good, marked only by his forgetting the lyrics. He also sings the National Anthem for school games, which is a tough piece, and I caught a clip.



The girls in the crowd,

Jane Warner and Margaret McAllister

went wild.

Side note: Jane Warner, married to Sloan, is the first cousin of Alert Reader Paul Day.

After the family parties, I cruised down to Tribe again to meet up with other 'mo locals home for the holidays. The Nashville Life building usually pulls certain shades each night to display a message. Tonight, as I rounded to inner I-40 loop, I tried to get a shot of "Peace."

Peace Sign

While waiting for Chuck (frequent character in the blog), I ran into an old Nashville friend who relocated back to Nashvegas a couple of years ago.

Cameron

Oddly enough, it was through Cameron that I became such friends with Chuck. Chuck and I knew each other in high school, but it's not like we hung out together. Years later, when he was living in Chicago, he hooked up with and started dating a Cameron. Cameron introduced me to his new boyfriend one night at the Connection, and Chuck and I were dumbfounded to find another gay MBA boy. Cameron, of course, had no reason to think we would have known each other. And Chuck and I have been good friends since.

Chuck and Wilson

Just kidding. I just hang onto him because he's so beautiful.

Mmmm. Chuckalicious.

Also always a pleasure to see, family friend and Tribe proprietor David Taylor.

David Taylor and Chuck R.

Years ago I brought David a foam "Happy Penis" from the SF public health campaign. I don't know why, it just seemed something that would amuse him. And I was right; it's still proudly displayed in his office.

David Taylor loves his healthy penis.

Always a fun time at Tribe. And last but not least, a shout out to one of the boys who always makes it so, the lovable and loving Loy.

Shouts to Loy.

Less than six degrees

So, several months ago, I was updating and cruising around Freindster and I don't know how, but I ended up looking at this guy's photos.

Sure he's cute, and very fit, but many of his 241 friends have shirtless posing profile pics, which is sort of telling (circuit muscle queens do tend to flock together), and some of his photos give some scale and it looks like he may also be a total pocket gay.

But what caught my eye was this photo in his profile:

If you look carefully, the guy sitting at the next table (I can't tell if he is with them or not) is RMJ!

I thought that was so small world so I "grabbed" the guys photo to save it to my account and show RMJ etc.

This afternoon I got an e-mail from my friend Chuck in San Diego. He had been killing time and flipping through Friendster, perusing my photos and say this one. He wrote:

So, I was looking around on friendster and at your pics. You know Will Davis?! He was a friend of mine back in Chicago. Too funny. How did you guys meet?

I had to confess that I actually never met him, I just had his photo because I knew the guy in the background.

So the fact that Chuck and Will are old friends is even more small world, and so very SF. (Then again, I may have found Will via Chuck's Friendster friend list, but I don't remember doing so.)

At first glance, it looked like his companion was the fabulous Suzan, whom I've gotten to know from numerous fun parties and danced with just Sunday at the Castro Street fair.

How much smaller can the world get?

Then I also noticed that the caption on Will's photo indicates that the girl is English and named Julie, so I guess it is not...

Still, finding Waldo RMJ in a random stranger's photo is pretty funny.

You say it's your birthday?

Happy birthday to Chuck!



The most dashing binge-drinker since, oh I don't know..., me.

Heart of gold, liver of iron, eyes of onyx, and wit of steel.



I wish you a very happy birthday buddy!

Leavin' on a jet plane

and I'll be back again in July.

It's a travel day so no blogging. I leave for BNA to OAK in about an hour and a half and have to pack up. Travel surprise: my neice Ellen will be flying back with me. She is off to Saratoga to visit Morgan (aka Morris by the Uncles) her former next door neighbor and best friend who moved away last year. She is flying with Morgan's grandmother who had already planned a trip, and being on the same flight just happened to be a happy accident.

Swan Ball stories simmering. But I won't have time to get to them until Wednesday. Photo sets will be uploaded tomorrow.

Wilson, Barry, Ginger and Chuck at the pre-party

In the meantime, perhaps this will hold you over:



There is such a thing as enough rope.

Swan Balls

Some stories to come. Nothing really dramatic, tragic, or comedic happened last night—just a hell of a lot of fun.

This image sort of sums it up. Brace yourself for the photos.

Chuck is very good at holding his liquor.
And pretending to hold someone else's.

So sue me sushi.

When Chuck and his ilk were here last weekend, we went out to dinner Friday night at (415), a new Japanese, trendy spot in Laurel Heights.

It is also located in the Jewish Community Center, so the place is kosher. Kosher sushi? (Enforced by Kosher Kops?) No shrimp, no crab (artifical "krab" is offered), and no eel. Now we got the whole no shrimp and no crab as no shellfish thing, but no eel? That's not shellfish. Must be a "bottom feeder" thing.

The discussion did give rise to a new cuisine descriptor: Jewpanese.

Up for Chuck!

Chuck is in town! I think he told me he would be here in March but for some reason I have it in my calendar for April. I'm wholly unprepared and am completely excited to see him. I only hope I can clean up my neglected apartment in time to host something nice....

Joy Personified

Considering the length of the last post, I won't go on so much about my night with Chuck and Ginger. I'll go on, just not so much.

Ginger ("I woke up with all my jew'ry on") and Chuck ("I know I am pretty, motherfucker.") are two of my most favorite people in my life. The three of us get along like a house on fire. Ginger I've known most of my life, but we only got to be close around 1994. Chuck and I knew each other in high school, but weren't friends until I ran into him as a friend's date in a gay bar around 1996. Chuck was in Chicago when Ginger moved there (or was that the other way around?) and I arranged for them to get together. Before meeting, the only thing they knew they had in common was me (and Nashville). They went from zero to best friends in about five seconds. I love Ginger. I love Chuck. Chuck loves Ginger. Chuck loves me. Ginger loves me. Ginger loves Chuck. Big love fest here. And it is astounding that this Christmas was the first time we were all in the same city at the same time. Chuck has since moved back to San Diego. I see him in SF or SD. And Ginger is still based in Chicago but bought a lovely place in Nashville, and I see her there or in SF. As close as we all are, it amazes me it has taken us this long to all be in the same room.

And the earth trembled.

We had a freakin' BALL. Lordy, for the folks who know me- y'all should be very afraid. Chattiness and wacky adventure exponential.

We had drinks at Ginger's amazing new home before heading out to the new Cabana for dinner. We chatted about the house, her impeccable taste (with some furnishing assistance by the "magic attic"), local gossip, sadness of those we know who still feel the need to be in the closet, home ownership (Nashville vs. Chicago vs. SD vs. SF), etc. I mentioned that a friend in Nashville just closed on a condo and hopes to pay it off within a year. Ginger hoped she'd be able to pay off the fabric in a year. Of course, the furniture and the draperies are fabulous.

Cabana had some pretty amazing food, and a very cool design. I did not realize how drunk Ginger (and possibly Chuck) had gotten during dinner. We went through two (three?) bottles of wine at dinner. Which is more impressive when you consider I was just drinking vodka. While our original plan was to go Out after dinner, Ginger was adamant about taking a cab home. She was further gone than we thought, but we both know better than to argue with Ginger when she gets an idea in her head.

All in all, one of the most fun nights I've ever had. Absolutely stellar company. Highlights of the evening:

*Ginger getting a little miffed when I did not take the left at the next light as she instructed, which would have put us in the direction of the restaurant, but the route would have taken us over a curb and through the lobby of a nursing home to get there.
*SF and SD trying to chat with LA, who was too LA to deal with SF or SD in Nashville.
*Ending up at the Chute for open mic night and my bodily carrying Chuck on stage for a duet of Captain and Tenille's "Love Will Keep Us Together."
*While Chuck was still on his Blackberry speakerphone with a honey back home.
*Wilson making out with a fraternity brother (much younger) he met last year.
*Wilson only remembering making out with the fraternity brother because he had text messaged it to Kevin.
*Stopping at 4:00 A.M. for 24 cheese Krystals, four orders of fries, and four corn pups.
*And taking said Krystals to Ginger's house.
*Ginger calling Fran (my mother) to let her know Chuck and I would be crashing at her place (in the guest room with two new, incredibly comfortable queen-sized beds).
*Ginger: "Wilson will be home in the morning." Fran: "Honey, it is the morning."
-and my favorite line of the night/day-
*Chuck and I woke painfully the next day to the bright winter sun streaming in through the unadorned guest room windows. Chuck said, in his wonderfully deep southern drawl, "For all the money she spent on draperies, you think she coulda put some up in here."
*And of course, over breakfast juice and tale-telling, Ginger clucking at us to stop referring to her cleaning lady as "Rosario."

I'm afraid you had to be there. And I'm sure glad I was.