Short Attention Span Theatre

or, "Bravely Blogging From My Sickbed With The Last Ounce Of My Strength"

OK, it's not that bad, but the doctor informed me yesterday that not only did the antibiotics not cure my ear infection, but it's spread to the other ear. (I was wondering why Mrs. Nator had learned American Sign Language for "please turn down the goddamn television!") So, I've been given some kind of Mega-Super-antibiotic, which is destroying my digestive tract as I type, and will commence resting comfortably in bed, naked, with the TiVo remote and a cat on my head.

Let's see what random stuff I can come up with, shall we?

Help, Help I'm Being Oppressed!

On the one hand, it's terrible that some straight people feel that they're being harassed by gay people in Provincetown. My dear homos, we should all know better.

On the other hand "O, poor me! Whiiiney-woo! Those mean gay people are calling me names. It's not fair, you big bullies!" Hee.

Holding Our Tongues

Alright, I know with a header like that you're expecting some blue jokes, but I'm going to be serious for a minute. There's an excellent column by Kurt Andersen in New York magazine this week, called Truly Inconvenient Truths. It well captures the conflicting feelings most liberals like me have about the situation in the middle east, particularly Israel and Lebanon.

Unlike those who think sending in the troops can fix everything, the left wing seems frozen in an overwhelmed state of not knowing which choices are the least of all evils. I know that I haven't blogged much about the horror, disgust, anger and sadness I've been feeling about the further escalation of violence there, in part because I don't feel I'm qualified to analyze the sociopolitics, another part because have no idea what can be done about it, and a third part because I don't want to get in an argument with friends who strong feelings about it and relatives in the area. The truth is, I am scared and heartbroken at the state of humanity as demonstrated in this ongoing conflict, but I don't say much about it because it's confusing and it hurts. And that's not even counting the mishegoss that's going on around World Pride.

Let's face it, mine is not a politcally-themed blog, but it's amazing that even established bloggers like Kos are so overwhelmed by the killing that they refuse to talk about it. Maybe we all need to talk about it more, so we can understand each other, but I also fear that many people's feelings about this are so strong and entrenched, that talking doesn't mean communicating, but turns to shouting or worse.

Coming Out Of The Dark

Now that I've thoroughly depressed myself, let's talk about something awesome. That I'm so gay I use a Gloria Estefan song as my header? No, silly, that Natalie did not get eliminated from So You Think You Can Dance last night! Wooo!

I swan, I was sure she was a goner. Ryan has been in the firing range for some time, so pulling him as her partner seemed to toll the first death knell, I thought. Getting disco and contemporary as her styles was the second, especially since Ivan and Allison got the tango (which they'd already done well) and hip hop, and Benji and Heidi pulled each other and Broadway and mambo (seriously, they were like a dream team on those dances, there was no way one of them would be going home). So, when she was in the bottom two I was resigned to her fate, and she seemed to be, too. I mean, I was surpised enough that Allison was in the bottom two; I couldn't believe America would vote her perky, pretty ass off.

Considering all this I was gobsmacked and thrilled when Natalie made it, and considering how thoroughly she lost her shit, she seemed to be shocked, too. Not that I feel great about Allison losing - she is an amazing and incredibly versatile dancer, and with most of the contestants at the end being so great, it's sad when they're voted off. (Actually, I wish they didn't insist on one guy and one woman being voted off each week, because I think Ivan deserved to be booted in her place.) But, oh, Natalie, my little Greek persimmon! How you danced your heart out, bum knee and all. Please pull yourself together and continue to bedazzle and beguile us next week. And if you're ever hankering for some girl-on-girl-on-girl action, Mrs. Nator and I are totally planning on seeing you and the others on the big tour. I'm just sayin'.

Friday Cat Blogging: Kitty (and Turtle) Porn Edition

Well, hello, Mr. Handsome.	Aww, yeah, baby, you know what I want.
Ooh, you dirty girl!	That's right, give it to the camera...
Now show us some plastron!

Update: Dear Penthouse, I never thought it could happen to me - the kitties have been carnivalized!

Critter Mania!

I just came across a truly awesome site: ARKive.org. ARKive is according to their FAQ,

"the Noah's Ark for the Internet era - a unique global initiative, gathering together into one centralised digital library, films, photographs and audio recordings of the world’s species."

What this boils down to is, lots of excellent photos and videos of endangered animals, like the one below!

Being an animal freak, I look forward to seeing lots more. Check it out.

Foto-Fu: Brooklyn Graffitti Edition

Since I got a new camera, I figured I'd start subjecting y'all to some pictures. These were taken in my neighbourhood, the South Slope.

I've got more photos up on my Flickr page, which I am still in the midst of organizing (i.e. re-ordering and adding goofy captions). Criticism is very much welcomed, but please be nice. I haven't been serious about photography for years, so I'm just re-learning. I'm hoping to take a class in digital photography soon.

I Wish My Brother George Was Here

Thanks to Joe.My.God, it has come to my attention that Nicholas Cage is trying to star in and direct a biopic of Liberace. Loathing of Nic Cage aside, I am indeed titillated. A movie about Liberace could be awesome in terms of sheer cheesiness, terrible, offensive, or so terrible and offensive that it crosses back into awesome gain, like Showgirls.

I hope they do a good job, because I have a soft spot in my heart for the Polish-American Wisconsonite showman. Not only was his whole aesthetic mid-blowing, but my mother confessed to me a few years ago that, as a young thing, she'd had a mad crush on him. I'm pretty sure that's what made me gay. Hooray!

Lee also clearly passed on to me his love of all things exotic animal.

It Runs In The Family, Y'all

The niece.

Further Notes On My "Personality"

Yet Another Reason I Am A Bad Person

So, I went to the orientation for a weight loss group at a major NY hospital yesterday, towing Mrs. Nator along for support. Although the folks running it seemed nice and knowledgable, I felt the program probably will not be a good fit for me. It requires a year-long commitment with group meetings every week, and doesn't involve the kind of medical monitoring I'm looking for, considering my history. Moreover, the meeting room was depressing (grubby old hospital conference room with fake wood panelling and folding chairs), as was the group assembled there. Seriously, I've rarely seen such a bunch of sad sacks in my life. I'm upset about being fat, but I'd rather not let it suck the oxygen out of my environment, if you catch my drift.

That said, and setting aside my general misanthropy, you want to know one of the things that bothered my most? Everyone was so old and fat. Seriously - I sat in a weight loss group and internally recoiled at all the fat people, even though I am fat, myself. The devil has a special place in his heart for me (and I him, but that's another matter).

Afterwards, I couldn't help confessing to the lovely wife, "I felt so awful, because I just kept thinking 'my God, I'm not like them, am I?'" Mrs. Nator assured me that I was the youngest and cutest specimen amongst the group by far, but then, she's biased. Long story short, I'm still in the market for the right weight loss program. I do think I'm going to follow up with the group's nutritionist to see if she can recommend a good doctor, though.

Yet Another Reason I Am A Big Geek

I've been having my chronic insomnia problems lately, due most likely to the weather, still getting over being sick and improper diet. I know that going to the gym in the morning would make me feel better and help me sleep, but how I am supposed to haul my voluptuous ass outta bed to work out in the morning when I've been up half the night with insomnia?

Aaaanyway, having exhausted my TiVo cache of I Love The 70s, Volume II, I started to watch a Science Channel show on, yes, tugboats. I guess being in Cape Cod had made me feel all nautical, and I'd seen some of the NY harbour tugs doing some interesting things of late, so in my usual frenzy of taping nature specials and science shows I slipped that one into the schedule. As of 4:00 a.m. I had learned all about the technical advances in tugboat engine technology and the number of anchors on an oil rig. This morning I have spent at least a half an hour gleefully surfing through sites dedicated to tugboats. Note, of course, that this is knowledge that I will never use and will never come up in discussion unless I choose to visit our local mariners' retirement home. BTW, isn't that on Fourth Avenue...?

I will notify you if I decide to be called "Cap'n" anything in the near future.

Yes, I'm One of Those

Crazy people obsessed with cats. What did you think I meant?

And since I just had another delightful half-hour explain-a-thon with my insurance company, who has refused to pay me hundreds of dollars owed to me going back to last year, I could use a little comedy.

Hence, the following montage. Yes, I am a dork. And cats were probably hurt in the making of this video. But so were babies, so that makes it okay.

Grab This

I am honoured to have been linked from noLandGrab, the awesome anti-Atlantic Yards site, even if it was just noting how Atlantic Yards has become nigh unto a curse word in the zeitgeist. Power to The People, y'all!

Alas, I'm pretty sure anyone who comes here thinking they might get a coherent analysis of real estate development in Brooklyn is going to be asking "WTF is all this crap?"

C'est la vie.

Subject Sampler

Breaking The Back of Love Dept.

Brotherly love, that is, as it turns out my bro has the same exact spinal problems I do (misalignment, protruding discs and arthritis), except worse, as he’s older and hasn’t done anything to treat them for a decade. It looks like talking to me about how much my surgery helped me – along with some new, excruciating symptoms - has helped him to decide to pursue treatment. He’s started getting steroid shots, and even asked me to re-send him my cartoon guide to spinal fusion, so he can show it to his friends at work when he explains his situation.

I’m really glad he is finally taking care of himself and seems to have good doctors, but of course I worry. I worry because his situation has progressed to be far worse than mine – he’s got advanced arthritis and severely protruding discs between every single vertebra in his neck, and they haven’t even done the lumbar MRI, yet. I also worry that, these things being genetic and he and I clearly having more in common than looking ridiculously alike, I, too, will be looking at possible multiple surgeries in the future. Crap!

This is really going to set back our plans of forming a family troupe of trapeze artists.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes Dept.

It looks like August is going to be a busy month. Besides the yearly celebration of the anniversary of the blessing that was my birth, Mrs. Nator has decided she’s had it with the shredding flooring in the hall, falling plaster all over the place, rusting refrigerator, and our continuing argument over what colour to paint the bedroom. Decisions have been reached, and she plans to take a week or two off that month and set to renovatin’ and paintin’. I will probably advise and watch. Okay, maybe I’ll help, but not on my birthday.

Meanwhile, I learned last week that a.) no administration workers are getting raises this year at my workplace, due to all the hub-bub and re-budgeting that have come with having a new GM and him bringing in new ideas and staff, and b.) in August I will be moving to a new office and working for a new person. I knew a move was imminent, but I didn’t know about the new boss. She’s someone who’s not come yet, so I know nothing about her or even what her title will be. I am told that my job will be pretty much the same, although it’s not certain whether I’ll also be doing some assistant work for the new honchess.

Overall, I am very slightly nervous, but pretty much fine to go with the flow of all this. After all, I’ve been fairly over this job for a while now, and after not being able to finagle getting laid off earlier this year, I’ve decided to refuse to worry about anything that goes on here as, hey, the worst they can do is lay me off. We got a little back-up money, so I’m surprisingly low-stress. Actual worst case scenario? I hate the new boss and have to find another job. I’m doing research on possibly going back to school, anyway (shhhh!), so, what? Me, worry?

The I-Am-Going-To-Hell Dept.

Bombing innocent citizens of Lebanon is bad enough, but this wanton destruction of kitty toys must stop!

The Second Deadly Sin Dept.

Once every year or two, my friend Cat Lady L and I go out to Blue Ribbon and gorge ourselves silly. Neither of us can afford (or stomach) this kind of meal often, but so few others we know truly enjoy raw oysters the way we do, and you’ve gotta live a little now and then. So, while carrying on a delightful conversation, she and I manages to polish off the following:

Spring water, bread & butter, 2 glasses wine (Savingnon Blanc for her, Reisling for me), one dozen raw oysters (Nova Scotia and New Brunswick varieties, one of which has a terrific,springy sweetness), sautéed calamari (in a garlic pesto sauce - fabulous, succulent and similar a dish I had in Ptown), whole roast garlic, string bean vinaigrette (too heavy on the vinaigrette, IMHO), beef marrow and oxtail marmalade on toast points (delicious, PETA-inflaming, heart-attack-on-a-plate), warm goat cheese salad and a root beer float.

Halfway through the meal I had a distinct vision of the peasants breaking down the door and hauling us off to the guillotine. Truly, I do not know how the upper class does it. I’d say I left the place ten pounds heavier (I could barely walk), except that’s probably the amount of weight that went missing from my wallet. All in all, however, the food was excellent and the service absolutely impeccable, as usual. If you haven’t been there, go thither, at least once.

Have I mentioned that this evening I’m attending an orientation for a weight-loss program? (Burp.)

We now return you to your regular attention span. Cheerio!

Superman Returns One Mo’ Time

OK, so I watched the 1978 movie Superman again the other night, and I just have a few more comments to add to my previous post about the new one.

1. Chris Reeve carried the 1978 movie. He was the perfect blend of strength and sensitivity, sexiness and respect, aw-shucks American Values and suavité. He really was Superman. Brandon Routh may have done a good job, but there was no way he was going to measure up, even if Reeve hadn’t died tragically.

2. Kate Bosworth as Lois Lane is ridiculous. She’s, what, 23 or 24 years old, and is supposed to have birthed Supe’s child and won a Pulitzer prize while he fucked off for 5 years? Give me a break. She doesn’t have the character or appearance for the role – she’s a blank slate. Her match as Supes would have been Keanu Reeves. Fortunately, they got Routh, who is better. Still, although he is about the same age Reeve was in 1978, he doesn’t have the grown-manliness Reeve did. Even if you imagine that Superman does not age like mere mortals do, he requires a certain power of face and carriage to carry sufficient gravitas. Making the movie “dark” in general doesn’t do it – Routh is too young for the part.

3. I still think a continuance of the Superman series is almost unworkable in 2006, unless you start completely over with a revised story. Let’s face it, if Superman were around today, half the United States would be demanding he go kick butt in the middle east, and the other half would be petitioning him to rid the Earth of all nuclear weapons. Lex Luthor may very well be a kind of terrorist, but it’s hard to sit through this fantasy without thinking about the real-world situation of war, politics, famine &c. Again, maybe the filmmakers thought that giving the movie a darker, more depressing “tone” overall would make it up-to-date. Unfortunately, it just works at odds with the goofball humour elements, and instead of hitting a balance it makes neither seem to fit. With the original, it was mostly goofball, but when you had those few really serious moments, like Reeve’s excellent and moving breakdown when he finds Lois dead, they really stand out and stick.

4. You’d think Kevin Spacey would be perfect for the role of Lex Luthor. Yet he still bugged the shit out of me.

That is all.

Just Because

The Building I Hate

Actually, there are a large number of new buildings and construction projects in my neighbourhood – Park Slope, Brooklyn – that I hate. You see, Park Slope is traditionally an area of turn-of-the-century brownstones and townhouses, and by turn-of-the-century, I mean the 18 and 1900s, not the millennium. Anyway, as prices have skyrocketed in Manhattan over the last couple decades, more and more people have discovered this area of Brooklyn, and it’s been flooded by the usual waves of first gays and students, then yuppies, and now just about any rich, white person who isn’t able to find a place in The City, or just wants more room and a more homey environment. Of course, you could say the same about Carroll Gardens, Cobble Hill, Willamsburg, DUMBO, Brooklyn and Prospect Heights, Windsor Terrace and, more recently, Red Hook and Fort Greene, but Park Slope was probably the nabe that really got the upscale gentrification/redevelopment ball rolling. Is it any wonder that nowadays real estate agents tend to classify anywhere down to the Gowanus or southwards through Greenwood Heights and halfway into Sunset Park as part of “The Slope”?

(Heck, since our apartment is just over the parkway, we may not even really count as the South Slope, but over the decade or so I’ve been here, I’ve seen Polish and Latino families edged out by Anglo hipsters, and 99-cent stores closed as restaurants and cafés move in. I definitely carry the liberal guilt of being on the gentrifying edge, but that’s another story.)

As this Manhattanite influx has been going on, naturally not only have rents skyrocketed, but a building boom has been born. At first it seemed like many developers would be satisfied with flipping pre-existing buildings, but now you can see huge, modern-style condos going up all over the place, each uglier (the prevailing design theme seems to be “1980s shopping mall”) and more shoddily constructed than the next. I don’t know the particulars of how and when the building-height regulations were relaxed, but I know I was certain where things were heading a couple years ago, when a condo several stories higher than the largest building on my block went up. Now you can see new construction projects opening almost daily, and many residents fear that the brownstone charm that attracted them in the first place is going to be overrun by high-rise monstrosities.

So, why do I hate this building in particular? Quite simply, it’s right behind my building, it’s huge, clearly made on the cheap, and changing the entire look and feel of the area, along with my view of the Manhattan skyline. I mean, look at how it dwarfs the surrounding townhouses.

Not only that, but construction has been haphazard, the carpenters’ unions have complained that unsafe and illegal work has been done there, and there have been at least 68 complaints lodged and 22 violations reported for this property. And guess what? The demolition contractor who worked on this site is the same one who was issued a stop work order after two workers were hospitalized due to wall collapse on another violation-heavy site on very same street!

All told, it’s no Atlantic Yards, but it’s still an oversized eyesore by neighbourhood scale, and a continually crooked project, to boot. I’m still lucky that I have a large, if careworn, apartment in the Slope at a good rate. But now, on top of wondering how long I’ll be able to afford living here, I find myself wondering how long I’ll want to.

America, Prepare To Feel My Wrath

For reals, if I see Natalie in the bottom two of So You Think You Can Dance again, I just don’t know what I might do. While my mini-crush on Mia Michaels involves a certain frisson of fear based on her crazy-choreographer bitchiness, Natalie manages to be naturally funny, a balls-out amazing dancer, scorchingly sexy and downright sweet as pie. In other words? She is my new alternate girlfriend, so don’t mess with Ms. N. You have been warned.

Also, if Natalie wasn’t on last night? I never would have imitated her and made the meaningful self-discovery that I, too, can make each booty cheek jump individually. (I can do it with my pecs, too. I may be fat, but underneath? Cynthia Rothrock, baby.)

Otherwise, great show last night. I’m glad to see everyone loves Benji as much as I do, and it was a satisfying surprise to see the show’s “hunk,” Dmitry, voted off over Ryan (who I’m sure is next to go down, but still). Annie Barrett has a review up at EW that spookily covers much of what I was thinking, minus the crushes, so I’ll not rehash further. My main question is, how am I supposed to wait another week?

Friday Cat Blog, High-Tech Edition

So, now that I’ve got a new camera I’ve gone a bit crazy. So far, Maurice and Quan Yin have been mostly uncooperative with my photographic endeavours (QY is actually terrified of the lens, for some reason) but I did get this shot of the MoMeister: And, since Maya is such a curious attention-hound, I actually got this riveting video footage of her:

I know, it’s like a gift from God. (Try freezing it in the middle of one of her meows – too cute!)

Please ignore the sty-like state of the bedroom, BTW.

Finally, I’ve got my Cape Cod photos up on my Flickr page, if anyone’s interested. I’m working on organizing some other shit and transferring my old stuff over from my Yahoo account. Most of it is your run-on-the-mill snapshots, but I’m trying to get more arty about it. I may even take a class, soon. In the meantime, feel free to critique.

Dear Margaret Cho’s Ex-Manager,

Thanks for your comment on my last blog entry. I was quite surprised that you found my brief review of Ms. Cho’s show in my tiny corner of the Internet, but I suppose that if one is in a lawsuit, it pays to keep track of everything, no matter how trivial.

In light of your comment, I’d like to make a few clarifications. First off, I’m sorry to tell you that I don’t remember much that would be useful for your case. I’m not even sure she really said you were suing her. All I recall is Ms. Cho stating that she was in a lawsuit with you and that you have a blog up about it, which you yourself directed me to in your comment (great site, by the way – kudos!). I may have forgotten to mention in my post that not only was I half-deaf and somewhat feverish with an ear infection that night, but I had a drink, so clearly my memories wouldn’t stand up to examination. In fact, I’m not really sure I was even there that night. Perhaps you could find some other audience members through Vixen?

Anyway, you seem like a nice person, and it is sad that Margaret Cho wasn’t funny. Clearly you are in the right, and I wish you well with your legal proceedings.

Regards,

- DN

Dear Margaret Cho,

On the off chance that you also saw my review of your show in Provincetown (because, apparently, you never know who might be reading), I’d like to make a few clarifications. First off, I was obviously quite sick that night, as well as three sheets to the wind, so my opinion probably counts for nothing. After all, I came to the show because I’d enjoyed your previous routines, and everybody but me in the audience seemed to have a great time, so obviously you were very funny and I just wasn’t getting it. I mean, why not repeat your classic jokes? They were funny the first… several times, right? So forget what I said. You were really, really funny. I am just retarded, or frigid or something.

Also, did I mention you looked great? You really, really did. Like I said, healthy and normal. I would even venture to say glowing. Seriously.

By the way, I also never mentioned that you said that you felt like your ex-manager was obsessed with you, and hunting down everything on the Web about you. I mean, I’m not even sure I heard that right, and who am I to spread rumours? I’m hardly a star witness; certainly not one whose feeble recollections would be worthy of presenting in a court of law, that’s for sure.

Anyway, you seem like a nice person, and have done so much for the queer community. Clearly you are in the right, and I wish you well with your legal proceedings.

Kiss Kiss,

- DN

Sundry

It’s weird being back. I’m still half-deaf, I miss the ocean, and the hairy gay men all over the place, and I saw a meeting on my boss’ schedule with the head of marketing and the topic of the meeting was… me. So… I don’t really know what that’s about. Having decided a while ago that I’m not really all that invested in this job, I’m not terribly worried, but it is a little… curious, to say the least.

Meanwhile, yet another section of the middle east is on fire. I’m so glad my friends are planning on going to World Pride in Jerusalem! Oy. Mrs. Nator & I actually discovered that we were having the same daydream the other day, of removing all the people from the entire “holy” region and making it somehow wholly uninhabitable, so no one could fight over it anymore. At first I thought of making the whole place radioactive, but I could just see the radical fundamentalists of all stripes donning holy hazmat suits, or claiming that God’s particular love for them would counter the radiation. It would have to be razed completely, or covered by a force-field of some kind. And everyone could move elsewhere. Canada has a lot of room – and Australia. Even Greenland. The thing is, I’m sure they’d find something to kill each other over, anyway, whether it be whose fault it was the holy land was taken away or... anything, really. Some strange amalgam of Shiite/Canadien-nationalists vs. the Zionist-Laplander Front, or some such. And even then? Everybody could still get together and hate the gays!

Also, while I was away, there were tornados in Westchester and now it’s so hot that the pavement and train rails are literally melting. Is it the End Days? No wonder Maya shrieked at me when I turned down the AC before leaving today. (In Catspeak, apparently, “MAAAOOOOW!” translates as “Bitch, I know you ain’t turnin’ that coolbox on “power saver” – less you want a whole buttload of new peircings in your sleep, that is.”)

Aaaanyway, here’s some random things that are flitting through my mind as I re-acclimate to life in the big city:

Superman Makes Me Sad

We finally saw the new Superman movie on vacation and… it was… meh. Part of the reason is that I just can’t stop thinking of poor Christopher Reeve becoming completely paralyzed and dying – I mean, how can you not, especially when the new guy is doing his best to play Christopher Reeve playing Superman?

I had more thoughts, but I’ll let you read Bunche’s review and my rejoinders in his comments, if you’re interested. I just can’t work up the energy to write a whole review… especially since I’m still working the sleep-tingles out of my limbs from sitting in the theatre for, like, 12 hours.

Margaret Cho Makes Me Sad

Because she’s just not funny anymore. I’ve thought this for awhile, while Mrs. Nator has hopefully speculated that the lack of funny was some temporary side-effect of the comedian suddenly becoming frighteningly skinny after years of making jokes and speeches about how being fat was OK. This analysis coming from a woman who lost about 100 pounds over the past year or two, so she may have a point, although Mrs. Nator is still occasionally funny, herself (but, come one, we all know I’m the funny one, right?).

Anyway, Mrs. N had not given up on La Cho, yet, so we ponied up for her show at The Vixen (shudder!) in Ptown, and the place was absolutely, let’s-hope-she-hasn’t-added-any-pyro-to-her-show packed. We were warmed up by a not-terribly-funny “gay, white rap” act (tired) from L.A (natch), and then Ms. Cho entered to great adulation. Alas, her show turned out to consist of long periods of preaching to the choir about how gays should have equal rights (I’m sure that’s going to be really controversial in Provincetown, darling), going on some depressing tangent about how she’s in a really bad place because her ex-agent is suing her, and really old routines from years ago that actually appeared on her television specials. The whole thing made me feel a little cheap, like since we’re gay we’re supposed to love everything she does and not expect our money’s worth, and a little sad for her, like – is she so depressed that she can’t be bothered, anymore? It was, in truth, a bit troubling.

However, she is not scary-scary skinny, anymore. She is normal and healthy looking. So, that’s good.

No New Episodes Of Janice Dickinson On My TiVo Makes Me Sad

Because: obviously.

The World Is A Crazy Place, Part I

And you don’t need this blarticle on Florrie Fisher (inspiration for Strangers With Candy’s Jerri Blank) to tell you so, but it doesn’t hurt.

The World Is A Crazy Place, Part II

When I was a wee lesbian, back in the early 90s, and living with my first lesbian girlfriend, we went to see a short animation festival. We, especially I, were completely taken with a cartoon called The Big Snit. In fact, it became one of those inside jokes, wherein we constantly compared our relationship to the couple in the short, and I started drawing Snit characters on post-it notes during my mind-numbing data-entry job and slapping them up all over the apartment, much to the confusion of our snotty roommate. Ah, youth! But anyway, I hadn’t been able to find the film anywhere for years, and thus pretty much forgot everything about it, until I learned today that it was on YouTube, and here it is.

…

Leading me to conclude:

1. That is some seriously weird shit.

2. Surely that says something about how fucked up our relationship was, long before our torrid break-up.
&
3. It’s still funny.

Cheerio, Kids.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

Mostly, I was sick. You'd think after braving the jungles of Costa Rica twice and the rugged terrain of Hawaii once (not to mention the sheer culture faux pas that is Wildwood Crest, NJ) the milder shores of Cape Cod would be no problem. However, I was too excited to sleep for days before our trip, and by the morning of I had started in on a honker of a sore throat and headache combo. By the time we were there a couple days, I could barely speak or hear, so I had to go to the local clinic. A hundred dollars later, the verdict was in: severe throat and ear infection, time to go on antibiotics. Feh! in the extreme.

Fortunately, Mrs. Nator was patient and I had my new camera to amuse me. So, as I fought off chills and squeaked around sounding like a combination of Marlee Matlin and Peter Brady in the voice-changing episode, we were still able to do a few activities, like take one squillion pictures of nature subjects and ogle the super hot bears all over the place.

Yes, as previously noted, it was Bear Week in Ptown, and those gentlemen were so sex-ay that even us hardcore lesbos nearly swooned. I was too shy to take their pictures (sorry, boys), but here is a substitute of our new Christmas ornament, Cosmo. And BTW, did you know that the instant the Bears clear out, the EuroFags are back in force?

Anyway, as I got better, so did the vacay, and we did take an extra day at the end off so we could get that whale watch in. There's no place like the Cape. So, to give you a taste, here are a few wobbly videos of some of the things we saw. I think YouTube screws with the resolution (not to mention I had no steadycam, alas), but hey, I like to share.

More photos when I get the time to edit them and upload them to Flickr. Anyone want to go in on a timeshare?

It's Hot, Yo.

For reals, son - I don't even want to think what our Con Ed bill is going to be. After the cool of Cape Cod, baby is not happy coming back to this.

My brother and sis-in-law called me from Texas, all "It's over 100 degrees!" To which I replied: "it's getting up there tomorrow here, and it will be humid, so suck it, bitches."

I mean, my outfit today? Was a pair of flip-flops and a straw hat. The flip flops were to keep the kitty litter off my feet while I was cleaning, and the hat was to amuse myself. Now that that's over they are both off.

In other words, I'm typing nude. Summer in the city, y'all. Deal with it.

Friday Cat Blog

Since I'm going to be away from the critters (and this blog) for my week-long vacation, and I have a new camera, I thought I'd pick up on this tradition.

I give you Maya, AKA The Shmoo, in her natural habitat - the laundry pile.

Mommy?

Maya is the Queen Bitch of the family. Completely deaf, she still knows when you're talking about her - she's that good. She is who she is and does what she wants when she wants to do it, and if you try to stop her, she'll knock over your fragile goods in the middle of the night. Fortunately, what she's wanted to do most for the past several months is snuggle with us in the bed, which we love. Usually she squeezes between Mrs. Nator & I or on the other side of me up by my head, resulting in everyone waking up with hairballs and me looking like I've gone prematurely grey. If we're very good, she will give us ear baths while purring.

Maya is generally somewhat aloof with strangers in person but had her own popular advice column when I was doing professional Animal Communication (she still gets emails and gifts from admirers). She loves to travel, so she tends to pull the "I've-gone-feral-thanks-to-your-abandoning-me" routine and hide under the bed when we're away, leading the petsitter to first feel rejected, then wonder how she's going to explain to us that our cat must have escaped. Of course, it may just be that Maya runs under there and rolls in the dust when she feels the vibrations of us coming up the stairs, then emerges, play-acting all dazed and traumatized for about a half an hour so we feel guilty. She is a strange and manipulative beast, and we'd put nothing past her.

All hail Queen Maya! I'm gonna miss the little fucker.

I [Heart] New York

July 6, 2006

Subway Rider Sliced in Power Saw Attack
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

Filed at 1:26 p.m. ET

NEW YORK (AP) -- A man grabbed two cordless power saws off a subway station workbench and went on a rampage Thursday, swinging the saws at riders and slicing open a man's chest before running away, police said.

The 64-year-old victim, whose name was not released, was hospitalized in critical but stable condition. Police were searching for the suspect, described by witnesses as a thin man in his 30s, who had earrings in both ears and was possibly carrying a teddy bear. The attack occurred before dawn at a subway station a few blocks south of Columbia University.

Wielding a saw in each hand, the man took a swipe at one rider on a platform and missed, police said. Moments later, he cut into the man's chest at a turnstile before bolting out of the station, still carrying the power tools, which were later found in a trash can.

Police were reviewing security camera videotape.

The attack came two weeks after a Boston man was charged with stabbing four people -- three of them tourists -- over a 13-hour period in the subway and the theater district in Manhattan.

I think the best part is that this nutjob "was possibly carrying a teddy bear." WTF?!

I still say that living in NYC is safer than living in the boonies, where there's nothing to do but get drunk, drive your truck around and shoot guns.

Nooooooo!

This is turning out to be a Very Bad Day, indeed.

N.Y. Court Says Lawmakers Should Consider Gay Marriage

I particularly love this line of reasoning:

"Intuition and experience suggest that a child benefits from having before his or her eyes, every day, living models of what both a man and a woman are like," the court said.

What do they think, that gay people keep their children sealed in their rooms with no access to outside people? The Boy In The Bubble meets Paradise Island?

Crap. The only good thing about this is that maybe by the time Albany makes gay marriage legal, Mrs. Nator and I will be able to afford a wedding...

Tree Hugger

Since I work in Lincoln Center, I knew for some time that some major construction was in store. When I exited the subway this morning, however, seeing the lovely Bradford Pears that had been in front of Alice Tully Hall chopped into pieces hit my like a punch in the gut. Not only am I one of those ridiculously sensitive souls who sees trees as living beings and their fresh carcasses as akin to roadkill, but these trees had been there for me for the last six or seven years. I marked the passing of seasons by them, thrilled when I saw new buds in early spring, enchanted when they flamed to deep red in autumn, tickled when they sported lighted "snowflakes" in winter, and cooled by them in summer. Office workers, local students and tourists alike rested in their shade on their marble planters, and birds enjoyed their tiny fruits. And there they were: stumps, in pieces, massacred.

Perhaps Lincoln Center will be better for all the renovations going on, and I doubt many will mourn their passing as I am. But this morning, it was a rude shock to see them forever removed from my life, and I will miss them.

I am very sad.

YouBoob

Well, I did it: joined the ranks of the YouTube nation today. Mrs. Nator gave in to my moaning (Whinging - Getting Me What I Want Since 1970!™) and let me get the fancy-dancy super-toy camera I've wanted, and I had to test it out. So, I give you our first little movie, a critique of the NY firworks as seen from the back window of our apartment.

Not bad for shooting with 40+X zoom at the lowest resolution, if I may say so, myself. You can even see the F train going by, despite the lack of a tripod, and hear the constant thrum of the Prospect Parkway, behind our inane commentary. And yes, we are usually that stupid. You've gotta find some way to pass the time.

Shalom

Yesterday I was listening as a good friend of mine described her plans to visit World Pride in Israel in a few weeks, but I didn’t know what to say. When she and her wife suggested to our circle of friends a month back that we all go, Mrs. Nator and I recoiled. To us, that region of the world is not only far too dangerous to “vacation” in, but an emblem of all that’s wrong with religious and ethnic extremism. For thousands of years, people have been suffering, screaming and killing each other over this tiny parcel of land each claims their God gave to them. If I am able to raise the money to get away from home for a week, the last thing I want to do is go somewhere I’m going to absorb that kind of energy, much less risk being stoned or blown up. I have enough to worry about with the security funding being taken away from New York, thank you very much; why go from the frying pan into the fire?

That said, I admire their optimism, conviction and courage. They’ve had a full wedding, despite gay marriage still being illegal here, and now they’re going to participate in a much larger action for gay rights. Granted, they’ve been to Israel a number of times before and even have family there, so it’s not such a big deal for them just to go there. They also seem to feel that the prospects of violence are being over-hyped, and that Jerusalem and Tel Aviv, especially, are cosmopolitan enough that there will be far less unrest than some are predicting.

But from the reports I’ve been hearing of the recent violence in Moscow and the threats and epithets religious leaders of various faiths have been throwing around, it still strikes me that even rather modern cities can harbour extreme prejudice, and even in a region where there is constant fighting between religious groups, they can all seem to agree on one thing: hating gay people. That seems pretty damn dangerous.

In fact, there is some speculation that the events will be cancelled by the authorities worried about potential violence and/or siding with the anti-gay forces. However, in that case, activists might still stage an unauthorized march, which would probably make the situation even more volatile. I’ve marched in several “illegal” marches in my time, and witnessed police violence in New York City, which is supposedly a relatively accepting metropolis. If my friends participate in such a protest there, I’d definitely fear for their safety.

So, the question remains, to attend such an event, is one ignorant, brave, foolish or perhaps some combination thereof? Maybe the optimists are right, and I’m uninformed and worrying too much. Maybe I should feel guilty for not jumping on a plane to get there, myself. Maybe they’re just a little bit crazy. In either case, I will be watching nervously. I hope my friends – and everyone else – will be alright. I also hope that World Pride 2006 will advance the rights and freedoms that queers all over the world deserve.

“Jerusalem WorldPride 2006 will gather people from all over the world to bring a message that is needed throughout the Middle East and beyond: that human rights transcend cultural and ethnic boundaries, that our differences can be respected peacefully, and that love knows no borders. There is no better place in the world than Jerusalem to make that statement, and perhaps no city that needs to hear it more.

The struggle for acceptance and pride is particularly pointed in Jerusalem, a city that is home to three of the world's great religions. The greatest traditions of Islam, Christianity and Judaism affirm the dignity of all human beings and our creation in the divine image. Yet these same faiths have often been sources of hostility and intolerance for LGBT people.

WorldPride 2006 will bring thousands of us to Jerusalem to confront preconception with reality, prejudice with an opportunity for understanding, in a way that will capture the attention of the world.

Together we will proclaim that in this ancient religious city - and in this region - we too belong."

- Jerusalem Open House, the organizers of WorldPride 2006

Update: Prominent conservative religious leaders are now promising bloodshed if World Pride goes through, according to this article. It is interesting, however, that the article also notes that the extreme vitriol directed at World Pride 2000 by Catholics galvanized the queer community, leading to record crowds at that event.

Geeky Revelations Of The Day

1. I have a recurring fantasy where I am singing onstage at a concert like Lilith Fair. Sarah McLachlan, Indigo Girls, and whatever other admired artists pop into my head at the time are happily singing back-up for me. They also all have crushes on me, because I am so very awesome. If I have the right album going on my iPod, I can visualize a whole documentary video about this imagined performance.

2. Yesterday morning on the subway I suddenly came up with a detailed pitch for a middlebrow comedic movie starring Adam Sandler and Will Ferrell. Oh, and The Darkness would be featured on the soundtrack. Have I mentioned that that is exactly the kind of movie I would never go to?

Can you feel me blushing?