A 34” LCD FLAT SCREEN TV WALKS INTO A BAR . . .

A friend of mine met me for lunch today.  This is a brief synopsis of what my friend laid on me.

I feel really terrible today.  I can’t stop thinking negatively.  I can’t stop feeling sorry for myself.  I suppose the correct verb should be “won’t”.  I feel lost.  I’ve felt lost for a while.  I keep thinking that at some point I’ll see something that tells me I’m on the right path but I don’t.  I’ve been crying a lot today.  I have been angry a lot today.  I have been a spoiled brat today.  It all started, or maybe it ended, with that damned TV.  My mother’s TV stopped working on Sunday.  It’s one of those new fancy LCD flat screens, a 34” one to be exact.  So I called the maker, Samsung, and they said if we send it to them they would fix it for free.  How exactly do you send a 34” TV through the mail?  Thank God the post office has those new “If It Fits It Ships” boxes out now.  I’m sure they have one for a 34” LCD flat screen TV.  It’s ridiculous.  How long is that going to take to ship?  How long is that going to take to fix and then send back?  It’s BULLSHIT!  Take responsibility for the crap you make!  The TV is two years old and out of warranty, but come to find out that the TV was recalled starting in 2009 like a month after we bought it for my mom.  So I called Best Buy.  They will fix it but a guy has to come over and it’s $150 just for the visit and then parts and labor.  Then all this stuff happened where my brother knew how to get it fixed without having to pay for it and then my mom was asking me questions about why it’s not under warranty and blah, blah, blah.  I’m just fucking over the TV at this point.  I don’t want to have to have my mom pay for the TV to get fixed but I don’t want her to be without the TV for however many months it’s going to take to mail it, get it fixed and get it mailed back.  She already has to pay for a bunch of other shit and more than likely will have to give me another $500 so I can pay my bills this month.  Meanwhile I have a gig that I did for $200-300 that I still haven’t gotten paid for and haven’t been called by any of the stupid jobs I applied for.  And I do mean stupid jobs.  Stupid jobs that should be creaming themselves to have me work there.  Stupid jobs where all you have to do is smile and ask people if you can help them.  I can do that, stupid job.  I have an audition for a non-speaking part in a Verizon in-house video tomorrow.  I know that’s supposed to make me feel good.  It doesn’t.  Of course, this is not about the TV.  It’s never about the TV.  I feel completely useless and like a loser.  Then that leads to why am I not further along in my career?  Then that leads to my family getting older.  Then that leads to eventually I’ll be all by myself.  Then that leads to why don’t I have somebody special in my life?  Then that leads me to all my friends have significant others and children.  Then that leads to I want a child.  Then that leads to if I had a child I would be letting down another person who didn’t ask to be the child of a loser artist.  I want to leave.  I don’t like it that my mother is alone.  I want to leave.  I don’t like it that that guy got that part in that commercial.  He’s an asshole.  That’s terrible.  You shouldn’t begrudge that asshole that part.  The universe is abundant.  You just don’t know where the universe is hiding everything because the universe is fucking HUGE.  I miss my friends.  I miss being creative.  I miss being around creative people.  I have to let go of something but I don’t know what it is.  When did I become such a loser?  I know.  I shouldn’t say that I’m a loser, but it’s what I feel right now.  I know that I’m not a loser but I still feel like one.  I’m supposed to let something go.  Is it control?  When did I have that?  I’m pretty sure I had it at one point.  I should concentrate on the positive things in my life.  It’s a positive thing that I can say, “Fuck you!” to anyone who tells me that.  I’m Sorry.  I know it’s probably the right thing to do, but it doesn’t help right now.  I’m having a tantrum.  Would you tell a 4 year old that?  Then don’t tell me that right now, because right now I’m a fucking 4 year old.  I really try to think about the positive stuff, but it’s hard to concentrate that hard on so few things.  That’s terrible.  That’s not true.  It just feels true.  This is the kind of day in which I wish I could stay in downward dog.  Actually, the truth, this is one of those days in which I wish I could punch people in the face, really HARD!  I’d probably start with President Obama for compromising on the Bush tax cuts.  Like I don’t have enough to worry about!

What a downer my friend is right?  Thank God that wasn’t me.  I’ve never felt any of that in my life.  I’m sure you’ve never felt it either.  Seriously, I really hope you haven’t.  It sucks, or so I've heard.

ONCE AGAIN, WITH CON-VICK-TION

 I was watching the Eagles/Redskins game last night on Monday Night Football.  Yes, I like football and I’m gay.  Let me correct that.  I love football.  I look forward to the beginning of the football season like I used to look forward to the first day of school when I was little.  Oh, come on, you know you laid out all your clothes the day before school started to pick the perfect “First Day of School” outfit.  Okay, maybe that’s a little more stereotypically gay of me than my affinity for football. It’s an archaic stereotype that gays don’t like sports.  I have many gay friends that like sports.  It is possible to get excited about a well-run screen and get equally excited about the opening of Burlesque on November 24.  I can’t wait!  Now if Christina Aguilera and Cher run a perfect screen play in the movie I will die from happiness.

My NFL team is the Dallas Cowboys.  I have been following the Cowboys since I was 12.  My initial allegiance was flimsy I’ll admit.  It was because the Cowboys were playing in the first Superbowl I watched.  It was when we were on our last tour of Germany.  The Cowboys were playing the Denver Broncos and all I knew at the time was they were from Texas and I was born in Texas.  That was enough of a reason then.  Not to mention the game was phenomenal and the Cowboys won.  I stayed up watching it until the wee hours of the morning because it didn’t start until 12am or something because of the time difference.  I wasn’t supposed to stay up and watch it but my parents went to a friend’s house to watch it and I was home by myself so I disobeyed my parents.  Maybe that’s another reason I like the Dallas Cowboys.

Any way let’s get back to the Eagles/Redskins game.  So, in case you didn’t see it, the Eagles annihilated the Redskins.  They were up 28-0 in the first quarter.  It was kind of a yawner.  Michael Vick was amazing in the game.  He’s truly a gifted athlete.  The announcers were gushing about him, ad nauseum, during the entire game.  It got to be a bit much.  At one point, Jon Gruden said something to the effect that Michael Vick is amazing because he overcame so much to get to this point.  He was referring to Vick’s stint in jail for killing and abusing pit bulls on the grounds of his mansion. 

Now, I love a comeback just like the next person, but saying that Michael Vick has overcome so much since his incarceration to get his career back is RIDICULOUS!  You can say that he overcame a lot to become a professional athlete.  My understanding is that his childhood was not an easy one.  I think it’s great that he overcame poverty and such to get a scholarship to college and then made it to the pros, but that’s where I get off the “Michael Vick overcame so much” train. 

He got arrested while he was a quarterback for a professional team, the Atlanta Falcons.  He was incredibly wealthy.  He spit on the very opportunity that he worked so hard to get.  When he got busted, he could afford the best lawyers.  As a result, he got off with not a lot of time in jail.  If a normal person had gotten arrested for the same thing he probably would have ended up with a lot more time.  A normal person wouldn’t have had all the fancy lawyers that money can buy.  That same person would not have had every NFL team vying for his services when he got out of jail.  Normal guy wouldn’t have been guaranteed hundreds of thousands, and now millions, of dollars when he got out of jail. 

He did not have to overcome that much.  He just had to not get in any more trouble and contain his “I can get away with anything” professional athlete attitude.  If a celebrity had done the same thing, people would never stop criticizing them.  I think athletes get away with a shitload more than celebrities.  Even the football players at my high school thought they should be able to do whatever they wanted, and they sucked.  Our football team always sucked.  There were more fans of our school band than of our football team, but they still felt entitled. 

Michael Vick is an amazing athlete and had one of the most incredible quarterback performances I have ever seen this past Monday night.  However, he is not to be admired for all he overcame because he didn’t overcome anything, except the primrose path that was laid out for him because of his potential value to an NFL team.  He didn’t save a bunch of people in a burning building.  He didn’t survive cancer.  He didn’t get wounded fighting for his country.  He went to jail and he deserved to go to jail.  He came out and all he had to do was play football well, which shouldn’t be too hard since he’s been playing it since he was a child.  He’s been getting paid for it in one way or another since high school.  I wish all people who made mistakes would get the same opportunities when they get out of jail.  They will not.

So congratulations to Michael Vick for an amazing feat.  I’m glad you are doing well, but remember where hubris led you before.  You are not a hero for doing this after getting out of jail.  You are just a person who got a second chance and was smart enough to not fuck it up, so far.  By the way, I’m not a member of PETA.  Those guys annoy me too.  And I’m not writing this because you play for a team I despise.  I despise the Redskins more and you don’t see me writing about Donovan McNabb.  I’m writing this to remind everybody that Burlesque opens November 24.  Go Cowboys!

SON OF THE CURSE OF THE THIMBLE

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DON'T LOOK BACK . . . BITCH!

I recently saw a documentary on the History Channel about Hades.  Hades was the Greek god of the Underworld.  He was basically the Greek version of Satan, except not as red or horned.  The documentary went through how Hades came to become the god of the Underworld.  He got tricked by his brothers, Zeus and Poseidon, after they had all defeated the Titans, who were their parents.  The 3 drew straws to determine who would be the god of which realm.  Hades drew the short straw and, even though he was the eldest, was relegated to the Underworld with Zeus dominating the Heavens and Poseidon ruling the oceans.  This is what always confuses me about gods.  Wouldn't Hades have already known what was going to happen?  Or is it just the God of the Christians that is and knows everything?

Anyway, Hades was not too pleased to have dominion over the Underworld.  Who can blame him really?  As a result, Hades was not the most pleasant god to deal with.  One exception to this statement was Hades' interaction with Orpheus.  Orpheus was a master musician.  According to legend, he played the lyre with such proficiency that his music would melt anybody's heart. 

Orpheus falls in love with a woman named Eurydice.  Well we all know that humans are not allowed to be happy for very long in these stories so you know something's gotta give.  One day, Eurydice is walking in the countryside and a satyr, half man-half goat, attacks her.  Now satyrs are known to be experts at one thing and one thing only, raping.  Being committed to his craft, the satyr attacks Eurydice and she flees.  As she flees the satyr, she stumbles and falls into a pit full of vipers.  Now who left that there?  She is bitten, but instead of having multiple viper wounds, apparently, she is bitten only once on the heel and that's what kills her.  What is it with the Greeks and wounds to the heel?  Like getting wounded anywhere else is not going to kill you.  I can just imagine some dialogue from CSI:  Mt. Olympus, "Oh, they stabbed him through the heart with a tree but I think it's this scratch on his heel that did the real damage."  The point is that Eurydice dies and Orpheus is beside himself with grief. 

Brokenhearted, he starts to play his lyre and the gods all become completely consumed with grief.  They suggest that Orpheus go to the Underworld and speak with Hades and try to get him to let Eurydice go.  He journeys down to the Underworld and through determination and lyre-playing he makes it to Hades' lair.  There, he, once again, plays his lyre but this time for Hades and Persephone, Hades' wife.  Their hearts are softened by Orpheus' playing.  Hades finally says that Eurydice can leave on one condition.  There's always a condition.  He can leave with his love, but he has to walk ahead and trust that Eurydice is behind him.  If he looks back for Eurydice before both of them reach the Upper World, Eurydice will be sucked back down to the Underworld forever. 

Orpheus starts walking.  He does not look back, but his anxiety and excitement get the best of him when he reaches the Upper World.  He looks back to make sure Eurydice is there, but he forgot that they BOTH have to have reached the Upper World.  Eurydice is still on the other side of the border between the Upper and Under Worlds.  Apparently he hadn't seen that she was on the other side of the sign that read "Welcome to the Upper World: If You Lived Here You'd Be Home By Now".  As a result, she is sucked back down to the Underworld forever and Orpheus is screwed. 

This story is, as many others, paralleled in the Bible.  The story of Lot and his wife has it that Sodom and Gomorrah are going to be destroyed by God.  God tells them all not to look back at the cities or they will perish.  Lot's wife, famously, looks back and is turned into a pillar of salt.  I don't really understand why it's a pillar of salt.  Maybe in addition to being a lesson about faith it's also a warning about the effects of too much salt on your health.

These stories have become embedded in my head recently because I feel I have been looking back a little too much.  Does that mean I have no faith?  I don't think so.  My problem is, isn't looking back kind of human nature?  How can a god tell a human not to look back.  All we have are ways to look back.  We have year-end lists.  We have pictures.  We have videos.  We have biographies, autobiographies and history books.  We have the, aforementioned, History Channel.  Is the History Channel contributing to my lack of faith?  There is a famous saying "He who does not learn from the past is destined to repeat it".  So who are the gods or God to tell us to have faith and not look back. 

It's always comforting to look back at the past.  Because it has already happened.  You know how it turns out.  Since you are still alive you know that it turned out pretty well.  So it's natural to long for something that already turned out all right.  The problem is we forget the bad times that led to that good time.  We glamorize what has already occurred because we, as humans, tend to remember the good parts more than the bad. 

My main point was really about the gods or God testing our faith.  Why would a supreme being need to test human beings?  Doesn't He already know that we are flawed because He made us that way?  So if He knows we're flawed then He knows that we are not going to pass the test.  That's kind of mean, isn't it?  People say it's about choices but He already knows which choice we're going to make because He knows and sees everything.  What's He hoping for, a surprise.  He's omniscient.  How is He going to be surprised?  So what's the point? 

Why put the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden to tempt Adam and Eve?  You already know what's going to happen.  If that's not enough, you specifically tell them not to eat the fruit from the tree.  I'm an improviser and I know that the worst thing you can do is tell me not to say or think something because as soon as you tell me that that's all I'm going to think about and more than likely say.  So not only did He know that Adam and Eve would fail, He also knew that if He put it in their heads they would be thinking about it constantly.  "Why doesn't He want me to eat that fruit?"  "That fruit looks delicious!"  "Is that an apple or a pomegranate?  Only one way to find out.  Kowabunga!"

Then he allows Satan to tempt them.  Now I know Satan is supposed to be God's nemesis, but if God knows everything and controls everything, doesn't that mean He controls Satan as well?  Otherwise you are saying that Satan is equal to God or even more powerful than God.  God had to know that the snake would end up in the tree and tempt Eve.  So why put the snake there?  Why create Eve when you know she's going to screw up?  Why create Adam when you know this creation is, apparently, a mindless simpleton who'll do anything someone asks him to?  Why do any of it if you are only going to punish everyone for being what you made them?  In the end, wouldn't that make you responsible for anything bad that happens?

How can you ask me to have faith in you if you are constantly trying to trick me?  That goes for Hades' and his condition for Orpheus.  That goes for Zeus and his penchant for tricking women into thinking that he's a harmless goose, or some other animal, and then attacking them.  Who knows how may innocent geese were wrongly incarcerated for sexual assault because of his trickery.  That goes for a God that tells Abraham to kill his son and then says "Psyche, just kidding."  Or A God that turns a fallible wife into a margarita glass topping.

This is all based on archaic views of God in my opinion.  That archaic God would have you think that you will never be good enough.  What a horrible way to go through life.  Obviously, that archaic God has no faith in us.  You gotta give to get, right?  I think I would rather think of God as someone who accepts me as I am.  Who accepts me with the flaws and chinks that He gave me.  That's a God in which I can have faith.  That's a God that is truly superior and not subject to emotions and actions that are those of the basest and least respected human beings on this planet.  That's a God that completes me.  I can say to that God, "You Hades me at hello!"  Too far?

THE CURSE OF THE BIRTHDAY THIMBLE

A birthday party, a birthday cake, a silly game, all seemingly innocuous but, in my life, even the innocuous can have lasting consequences.  I went to the birthday party with my high school friend Matt.  I think it was my sophomore year.  Matt and I had become friends because we had a gym class together and we both hated the concept of group showering.  Was it the result of an unfortunate past-life experience in WWII Germany?  Who knows?  I just hope I was correct in thinking that I didn't smell bad the rest of the day.  I think it’s clearly impossible for a teen-aged boy to smell terrible after an hour of gym class and no shower, right?

 

Anyway, Matt was a practicing Southern Baptist.  It didn't really matter to me.  It sure does to them though.  My family was not really religious at the time.  Ostensibly, we were Catholic.  I had done my first communion but had never been confirmed.  So, it was of no importance to me what his religious practices were.  I enjoyed being friends and going to church with Matt and enjoyed his friends from church, many of which also went to my high school.

The aforementioned birthday party was for this girl Amy.  Amy was a year or two older than I.  Her birthday party was at her house and all the usual church suspects were there.  I always felt a little out of place at these events.  For good reason, after all, I was the outsider.  I was Puerto Rican, which I always felt made them treat me how I imagine the English settlers treated Pocahontas.  I was also not baptized the way they thought one should be baptized.  They were all waiting for me to convert and "accept Jesus as my Savior".  As far as I was concerned, I already had. 

I was introduced to a new tradition at this party.  I don't think it was a religious thing.  Maybe it was more an ethnic tradition or maybe it was just for fun.  They had baked a special cake for Amy.  The cake was baked with things inside it.  Wrapped in wax paper were little coins and trinkets.  Getting money was a good thing, obviously.  There were other things in the cake as well.  One girl got a fake wedding ring wrapped in wax paper.  That meant that she was going to get married.  Wow, someone’s going out on a limb with that prediction at a Southern Baptist party.  You really want to go out on a limb?  Try using the words “party” and “Southern Baptist” in the same sentence.  There was no date on the ring so the prediction only went so far.  This other girl or guy, I can't remember which, got a little plastic baby.  Again no date on the baby but, we do know that, considering it was a Southern Baptist party, the conception would have to take place after marriage, or at the very least, after the party.  Maybe the wedding ring and baby person would later be forced to marry and have a child.  I don't know.

There was one prize that hadn't been found yet.  Everyone was excited to see who would find this trinket.  I ate my cake hoping to get something, preferably something that symbolized that I would be incredibly wealthy or happy.  Maybe I’d get a little tiny plastic blanket with small pox, just like the English settlers gave to some of Pocahontas’ friends.  I took another bite of my cake and felt something in it.  It was pretty big.  “This is going to be good”, I thought to myself.  I took the object out of my mouth with great anticipation.  I unwrapped the wax paper covered with saliva and cake (How FUN!) and looked inside.  It was a thimble.  I looked at it with confusion.  I told everyone that I had a thimble in my piece of cake.  They all started laughing.  I laughed along, not quite getting the joke.  “It means you're going to be a spinster, an old maid".  They all laughed because how is it possible for a man to be an "old maid"?  

I’ll tell you how it’s possible.  It’s over 20 years later and damned if I’m not an old maid. What kind of weird white, protestant voodoo is this?  Everyone I know is married, divorced or partnered up.  Hell, most of my friends already have children. Even Amy, whose party it was, is married . . . and to a man of all things.  I thought for SURE that Amy was a big old lesbian.  She was very athletic, had a boy’s body, dressed in jeans and sports t-shirts and drove a truck.  HELLO!  Of course, one must take into account that she was a Southern Baptist.  She probably was, and still is, a closet case.  I hope she is.  I have never forgiven her for looking at me one day and saying, “Man, your nostrils are big.”  I laughed but what I really wanted to say was, “All the better to smell that you’re a big lesbian, my dear.” 

I keep thinking, “What’s wrong with me?”  Where’s my John Smith?  I’m a good guy.  I’m not a model but I’m pretty attractive, even with my big nostrils (Evil big old closeted lesbian).  I don’t have Superman’s body but I’m in good shape.  I’m smart.  I’m funny.  I know how to paint with all the colors of the wind.  Okay, that’s my last Pocahontas reference.  

See what I mean by something seemingly innocuous having a huge impact on your life?  It’s that damned thimble.  I don’t even know where it is anymore, yet it still haunts me.  Well, at least I don’t have to blame myself.  There’s nothing I can do.  I didn’t accept Jesus as my savior, so the white protestant voodoo thimble curse keeps going strong.  I guess I could try to find a white protestant voodoo book and find out what the counter curse is.  It’ll probably involve having to get baptized the “right way”, making a casserole and voting Republican.  (GULP!) If you’ll please excuse me, I have to go buy a rocking chair, learn how to knit and adopt a bunch of cats. 

GAY MILITIA

So, I've been really thinking about this whole "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" thing.  I am in complete agreement that nobody in this country should be barred from choosing whatever career path.  I am an army brat so I know a little bit about military life.  My father was a lifer in the military.  He served for 30 years and retired reluctantly.  I remember when the U.S. invaded Iraq, the first time.  My dad sat watching the television with a child-like excitement.  Sort of the way I used to watch SNL when I was young, waiting to see if Rosanne Rosanneadanna was going to give one of her hilarious editorials.  At one point, while watching the invasion, he lamented that he wasn't in the army anymore.  He really wanted to be there.  So, I understand that some people really have a calling to be in service to our country in that way.  And, anybody, regardless of their consensual, adult sexual partner, should be allowed, if not encouraged, to do that.  Trust me, there are straight people that I would rather not imagine having sex.  I just don't try to legislate my disgust.

I think it's great that there are gay men and women who want to serve our country.  I want them to serve our country.  I want them to learn everything they can about combat and combat weapons.  I want them to learn this so that when they get out they will pass this information on to the rest of us.  I really think it's time that the gays had a militia.

It is time to break the glass ceiling of militias in this country.  Why should militias in this country be the sole jurisdiction of straight, white-supremacist men?  If we are going to have equality in everything then let's buy some property in the Rocky Mountain states and make a quaint little camp.  I mean, after all, there are few things gayer than going to camp.  People call gay humor "camp".  We could call it Camp Camp.  It's about time that the gay community had a militant branch.

I remember having a conversation with my friend David backstage at Second City.  We were discussing the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960's because we had exhausted our normal topics.  Which is the more influential rock band The Beatles or The Rolling Stones?  How he would only see movies with titles that told him what the movie was about.  For example, Star Wars, it takes place in the stars and there's a war.  And last but not least, how much he liked having anal sex with women.  Anyway, I said that Martin Luther King obviously made the Civil Rights Amendment happen.  He disagreed and said that if it hadn't been for the Black Panther movement that the Civil Rights Amendment would never have happened.  I remember being taken aback by this and arguing about it.  But I had to take his word for it.  I mean, after all, he's black.  Now, I really see his point.  Might makes right for a lot of people in this country and if you don't pose a physical threat they won't take you seriously.

Here's a case in point.  Why does Eminem ubiquitously use the derogatory word that refers to gay people that begins with F yet he never uses the derogatory word that refers to black people that begins with N?  First of all, let's get one thing clear, I have no problem with Eminem.  I think he's a great artist and has a lot of interesting things to say.  Some of my best friends are Eminems.  Second of all, it's very difficult not to use "those words" while writing this but I will try not too, lest I offend Dr. Laura.  I have a theory as to why Eminem uses f----- and not n----- (What is this, Hangman?).  Because, at the end of the day, Eminem is not worried about a bunch of gay men kicking his ass or shooting him. 

Let's face it none of us are worried about that.  The only thing you're worried about when you pass by a gaggle of gays (yes, gaggle is the proper term) is what you're wearing.  Even if you're a hot straight guy passing a gaggle of gays, the biggest thing you're worried about is if you're going to accept the blow job you will be offered.  Of course, you will.  Does that make you gay?  Yes, it does.  I think if Eminem was worried about a huge gay guy dangling him over the balcony of a high-rise or getting shot in a drive-by by a Jeep full of lesbians he'd change his tune, literally.

Another case in point, why do people say something is "gay" when they refer to something they don't like.  "Oh, that was gay", "Don't be so gay", "Marcia GAY Harden".  That's offensive to gay people.  When someone says "That's so gay", I always want to respond "You mean, that's so well-dressed, well-educated and handsome"?  And don't tell me that that negative meaning is what "gay" means.  "Gay" originally meant lighthearted and carefree.  Knowing that definition I'm now not sure how that became associated with homosexual men.  I mean, if you looked at my life, the term wouldn't be "gay" it would be "anxious".  "Oh, my God, y'all did you hear that Martin is anxious?", "Oh, c'mon, it was obvious.  He's soooo anxious.", "Dude, that movie was totally anxious".  Of course, if you looked at that guy from Flipping Out on Bravo you'd just refer to gays as "assholes". 

It wasn't until "gay" became associated with homosexuals that the negative connotation came about.  So when you say "That was soooo gay" you are insulting me and people like me, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not.  I think you'd be less likely to use it that way if you knew me and my homie(os) would fuck up your grill.  I don't care if it's a gas grill.

But, I digress.  So, we need to get some kick ass gay people involved in a militia and the first step toward doing that is getting more gay people into the military.  I, for one, am ready to learn how to vent my anger by killing people rather than by bitching to my friends and rolling my eyes.  Those ocular muscles are going to give out at some point.  Then where will I be?

So go forth brothers and sisters.  Go fight for our country and bring back what you learn.  We will be here looking for property in the Rocky Mountain states, probably close to Denver because even a militia needs to go for cocktails and dancing every once in a while.  Maybe we can find some property with a great bi-level Victorian with a wrap-around porch.  Not because it's cute but because the wrap-around porch provides a 360 degree observation point.  I'm so excited.  I'm going to Old Navy right now to buy a pair of camo cargo shorts.  Semper Fi-erce!!!

THE RELUCTANT CELEBRITY

I don't usually agree with Sarah Palin but the other night I was watching television and was delighted to hear that Sarah Palin has yet another show that's going to be on the air.  I feel so sorry for half-term Governor Palin.  The "lame-stream" media is yet again making her go on television.  Why don't they just leave her alone?  First she runs for Vice President of the United States of America and the media won't leave her alone.  Just because she's running for national office doesn't mean that they should be able to ask her questions that she doesn't like.  Then, after being defeated, she's forced to do a show on Fox News.  Why don't they just leave her alone?  There goes the "lame-stream" media again.  Why doesn't Fox News get someone else to do a show on their station?  Leave this poor woman alone.  I can only assume that being "the most watched cable news station" in the nation caused Fox and their "mainstreaminess" to blatantly ignore half-term Governor Palin's right to privacy.  Now, yet again, the "lame-stream" media is forcing her to be on television.  I heard, while watching the promo for the show, her say how she would rather stay in the Alaskan countryside.  But, alas, she has to go to rallies and bear the burden of having to save the nation.  What a burden . . . for all of us.  "Why isn't this enough?", she lamentably asks.  I don't know Sarah.  Why isn't it?  Why are you forced to be on the cover of People and US and any other magazine that has a cover?  Why is your daughter, Bristol, forced to be on Dancing With the Stars?  Why is Levi "whathisname" constantly trying to garner publicity because of his absent-minded misuse of abstinence with your daughter?  I'm sure the words "I'll take it out in time, I promise" still ring in her ears while she's doing a cha-cha to the latest "lame-stream" hit by Justin Bieber.  Ironically the title to Justin's latest hit is "I'll Take It Out in Time, I Promise, Baby".  Ah, the ubiquitous "baby", thank you Justin, no really, thank you.  So please "lame-stream" media leave this poor woman alone.  Let her be the anonymous, gun-shooting, moose and elk killing, lipstick wearing pit bull, hockey mom who can see Russia from her house, woman that she wants to be.  Help half-term Governor Palin do what she seems unable to do herself.  She's tired of seeing herself in the "lame-stream" media.  And quite frankly so am I.  At least, we can agree on that, you betcha!(wink)

BULLYING

All right, let's all face it.  Junior High or Middle School is the worst thing to ever be perpetrated on the American pre-teen since acne.  I HATED Junior High.  By the time I got to 7th grade they had converted my Junior High into a Middle School but I still refer to it as Junior High.  I'm old school.  It seemed to me even then, in the late 1920's, that everybody in that middle school hated being there, hated everybody else in the building and hated their life.  Even the teachers seemed to be angry about not quite making it to high school.

I grew up an army brat and my middle school was in Wiesbaden, Germany.  It was, I think, similar to being in a small town.  There were only so many of us stationed in Wiesbaden and we all went to the same school, movie theatre and stores.  Everybody knew everybody else, so once you were known as whatever they pegged you as, that's what you were.  Well, apparently, I was a fag.  At least that's the logical conclusion one would come to if you listened to what I was called on a daily basis.  I didn't even know what it meant.  I just knew it was bad because of the way it was said.

Now, I don't want anybody to think that all the kids in school were calling me this name.  It was mostly a small band of losers that were of the male gender.  Quite frankly, I think that word was a catch-all insult for anybody that didn't hang out with them.  I mean, it's a succinct and, still, socially acceptable way to diminish someone.  It doesn't take a lot of imagination.  I feel I'm safe in saying, they, collectively, had less than 1 gram of brain matter so imagination would be asking a lot.  They were all bad students.  They were pretty much all unattractive.  They were unhappy with their lives.  So they made others suffer for it, including me.

I remember at one point in my life thinking to myself "What am I doing to bring this upon myself?"  I was very shy and not very aggressive.  I usually walked with my head down looking at the ground.  I had very little confidence.  These are all things that contributed to my being treated badly.

I didn't even realize that until I happened to pick up a ladies' magazine one day.  While flipping through the magazine I came upon an article about how a woman could lessen the chances of getting attacked.  I couldn't imagine getting any relevant information for my middle school problems from a magazine article about rape but now I see the congruence.  Walk with your head up high.  Look where you are going.  Walk with purpose and pay attention.  I saw that all these things could help me in middle school.  Hold your purse in front of you was not as valuable.  So I started doing all those things.  Lo and behold, I started getting picked on less.

When I discovered that I also had a talent that was valuable it got even better.  I could dance.  Really well, I came to discover.  Because we were on a military base there weren't a lot of things to do.  So every weekend there would be one or two dances.  They would be at the school or the DYA, Dependents Youth Association.  It was also the late 70's and dancing was huge.  This made me very popular with all the girls.  The boys liked the girls, so this afforded me a little more status.  It also brought me attention from my tormentors and they made attempts to include me in their ranks.  I never joined them so they increased their negativity toward me once again.

I remember one time at a school dance I was outside the gym talking with Rita.  Rita was a very popular girl at the school.  We were good friends.  Rita was supposedly EASY.  I don't know if it was true or not but that's what she got pegged with so there you go.  I didn't care.  Anyway, we were talking and I noticed she looked over my shoulder.  She pushed me behind her and I saw that that group of guys had been surrounding me the whole time.  One of them, Rodney Thornton, said, "We were just going to spit on him."  They all laughed and made their way into the gym together.  It was a scary experience, I'm not going to lie.  I stayed though and danced the night away without event.

I could regale you with other stories of things they did to make me feel bad about myself but they're all so typical.  I will tell you that, after a couple of years, this almost daily negativity took its toll.  Think about it.  You are required to go to school.  You are required to go somewhere where you run the risk of mental and possibly physical abuse.  I dreaded going to school.  I never told my parents.  That would be the ultimate humiliation.

It finally reached a boiling point at 13.  I was in my room feeling sorry for myself, looking out the window.  I thought about suicide for the first and last time in my life.  I thought that would end it.  That would teach them.  They'd be sorry.  Nobody would care anyway.  The irony that I could think they'd be sorry and that nobody would care at the same time shows the faulty logic in this solution.

I don't know why but I had a huge moment of clarity.  I realized that in about a year I was going to be moving.  All I had to do was make it a year and I would be in a completely different place and I would probably never see any of these people again in my life.  This situation was temporary.  Suicide was not.  You know what else?  Someone would care.  My parents would have been devastated as would my sister and my brothers.  Those weren't the people I was trying to hurt.  So suicide was out of the question.  I never thought about that as a solution to anything ever again.

So I guess what I'm saying is don't be an idiot.  Sounds harsh but sometimes harshness is the only way to get a point through.  I know you might be going through something really difficult but remember there is someone that WILL be crushed when you take your life.  So you would become the bully to people that did nothing but care about you.  You would torment them for the rest of their lives.  Don't be selfish and unjust like the people bullying you.  Realize that it will pass.

If I'd have done the unthinkable that day I never would have made the numerous and wonderful friends that I've made.  I would not have been to Rome, Naples, Venice, London, Paris and many more places around the world.  I would never have seen the pyramids, the Acropolis, Leaning Tower of Pisa or The Grand Canyon.  I would never have known my niece and nephews.  That in itself would have been a huge loss.  I would never have had the chance of realizing my dream of becoming a working actor.  I wouldn't have written and performed in 6 reviews at The Second City.  The list goes on and on.

I'm not saying don't do anything.  Learn to walk with your head high.  Take a boxing class.  Find a talent.  Something that you can always turn to for a feeling of fulfillment.  Take a chance and do something you never thought you could do.  Even if you fail you will fail doing something instead of failing by doing nothing.  It gets better but only if you are still around to make it better.

THE GAY AGENDA

I can't believe that the religious right has found us out.  There is a gay agenda.  I meet with all the gays  in America at a place which will remain secret for the time being.  Okay I'll let you know this much.  They serve coffee there and it's really quaint.  It reminds us all of that little cafe in Paris.  It's very difficult to get all of us in the same place at the same time but somehow we make time, usually during a rerun of an episode of "2 1/2 Men". 

An agenda takes a lot of planning.  Every meeting pretty much starts out the same.  We read the minutes from the last meeting and make witty comments about them.  We then welcome and initiate all the new gays that we have recruited or created by our mere existence.  It's really easy to get recruits because gays are so revered in our society. People are coming out of the wood work to join. 

The initiation ceremony consists of a number of events.  The first being a multiple choice test.  All our new members are asked questions like, "Who won America's Next Top Model Cycle 3?", "Who are you wearing?" and "Why don't you like me?".  One must score at least a 70 on this test, otherwise you are sent to a special school for the Closeted where you will be sent to work as an assistant for the Attorney General of Michigan or a preacher.  It's your choice.  We are nothing if not fair. 

If you do pass the multiple choice portion of the initiation then you move on to the obstacle course portion.  Firstly, one must negotiate a catwalk in a pair of Vivienne Westwood shoes.  You know the kind that felled Naomi Campbell.  If you don't know that reference then don't show up for one of our meetings.  You must then take off all your clothes and put a little towel around your waist and try and make it past "catty bitch alley".  There, a group of really effeminate men will criticize every inch of your body and/or personality until you cry or sleep with one of them.  More than likely you will do both but not necessarily in that order.  Then you have to make it past the "batty butch alley" where a bunch of really macho straight guys will gang up on you and beat you up with bats while calling you really derogatory names for homosexuals until you cry or sleep with one of them.  More than likely you will do both but not necessarily in that order.  Then you have to make it past "Kirstie Alley", without gaining weight, until you cry or sleep with her.  More than likely both which makes you even gayer.  The perfunctory dance portion is relatively easy and, of course, you must purchase a gym membership before moving on to the baptism.

The baptism is one of our most solemn ceremonies.  You will be baptized in a hot tub filled with Le Male, Jean-Paul Gaultier's latest scent.  You will also have to spell Jean-Paul Gaultier without looking it up on Google.  You will then be greeted by all your fellow gays in the traditional way, throwing their arms straight up in the air while waving their hand exagerratedly and saying "Over here".  This, of course, was developed to let everybody, at whatever bar you're at tonight, know that you have friends.

After being baptized, you will have to do what every good gay man does, go door to door and testify.  Get dressed first.  You will then go through your neighborhood, that used to be the bad part of town until you and a gaggle of gays gentrified the shit out of it, and knock on your neighbors' doors and be a witness to them about how great it is to be gay.  I mean, after all, just like many on the Fundamentalist Christian Right say we can't procreate so we have to increase our numbers somehow.  That's why we go door to door trying to convince people to be just like us, unlike the Fundamentalist Christian Right.

I usually start out a conversation with a non-gay by saying, "Have you heard the good news . . . about Lady Gaga?" and then I regale them with my knowledge of all of her concert dates.  I use Lady Gaga because Madonna and Cher aren't on tour right now.  You must keep up with that information.  You must also let them know if they don't go to the concert they are going to burn in hell for all eternity.  Truth be told, they probably won't but it's for their own good.  The dancing alone is going to be AMAZING. 

If they don't want to talk to me then I pray that they will realize the error of their ways.  Like their using carpet instead of wood floors.  Don't they know open layouts are the way to go nowadays.  They didn't even have granite counters.  Pray hard for them. 

No matter the outcome of our missionary endeavors we , unlike the Fundamentalist Christian Right, take comfort in the fact that everybody who isn't like us is going to suffer for all eternity.  We can do all of this and be successful at it because we, as gays, are incredibly monolithic in our thinking and kick people out of our party if they don't tow the line, unlike the Fundamentalist Christian Right.  Let's face it the only way we are ever going to have a peaceful world is if everybody is the same right?  That's OUR agenda?