Friday, October 07, 2005
Another subway terrorist threat as the government tries to rachet up support for the war. This one suspiciously announced with perfect timing for the evening news to do their breathless stand-ups on the subway steps during rush hour.
This morning, my normally cop-free subway station was crawling wid 'em. One at the top of the stairs, three outside the turnstyles, three more on the platform. The three outside the turnstyles, charged with examining bags, were discussing the Yankees.
Down on the platform, I saw the usual morning crowd, clearly unfazed by the headlines of the papers they held: "Subway Threat", "Train Terror Alert!", and the mocking "Here We Go Again". And what were all these terror-stricken commuters reading? Not the front page, nope. Everybody, and I mean everybody had their noses stuck into stories about the Yankees and the playoffs. As it should be.
The 6 train arrived with passengers jammed up against the glass, as usual. The doors opened, but only a few new passengers could squeeze onboard. Two trains later, I managed to find room for myself.
Mighty New York City glanced down at today's headlines and did what it always does.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
The Ones That Were Wrong For Me
Section II, 1990-2000 (Abridged)
- The one that always said her name "Donna Summers", with the "s" on the end, even though he knew it was wrong and knew that it bugged me.
- The one that told everybody he was Italian, when in fact he was Mexican.
- The one that chastely put off any sex until the fourth date, and then when we finally got naked, literally recoiled from my hands, saying "Um, I'm not really into touching."
- The one that laughed out loud, actually hooting, actually slapping his knees in glee, while watching reruns of Too Close For Comfort or Perfect Strangers.
- The one who relocated our date to the restaurant right behind his house, because it was within range of his electronic monitoring bracelet.
- The one that got down on his knees and prayed for forgiveness after we had sex.
- The one that had long conversations with the fish in his aquarium, asking them how their day was, and whether they were hungry, and did they want any new roommates. All in his funny, squeaky "fish" voice.
- The one that asked me how I could stand having such queeny friends.
- The one who during the first (and only) time we had sex, asked me to fuck him, during which he whimpered "Why Daddy, why? I'm just a little boy!"
- The one who consulted his astrology chart before he'd get on a plane.
- The one who slept with the sheet tucked in all around his body, including over his head, like a cadaver.
- The one who "playfully" liked to trip, tickle, pinch and push me.
- The one who voted for Bush the First.
- The one who listened to Color Me Barbra at least 5 times a day.
- The one that insisted on an empty seat between us at the movies, so we didn't look gay.
- The one that was rude to waiters, clerks, delivery men and hotel staff.
- The one who believed that man had never actually been on the moon and every other conspiracy theory he read.
- The one who lavished me with gifts of designer clothing, which it turned out he'd been stealing from his employer, Neiman-Marcus.
- The one who wouldn't meet me for lunch at Sizzler, because he was afraid someone would see him there. Not with me, but AT a Sizzler.
- The one that was married and said that his wife "knew", and that it was OK with her that he dated men, and that they were only staying together for the sake of their FIVE kids. Then he had her call me to say she didn't mind if I was dating her husband.
Things I Don't Hate, Part 3
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Things I Don't Hate, Part 2
Monday, October 03, 2005
Read These Guys, Sayeth The Joe.My.God.
Taking my cue from the scene in "Miracle On 34th Street" in which Macy's employee Kris Kringle tells customers that they could find what they were looking for at over at Gimbel's, Macy's archrival, I'd like to offer up a few suggestions to my gentle readers.
If you find yourself unsatiated by the "endless tales of death, drugs and disco nonsense" that appear on Joe.My.God., I recommend checking out a trio of New Yorkers, all Gimbel's to my Macy's. Actually, wait a minute...these guys aren't my archrivals. Bad allegory. I'll go rewrite this lead while you guys go check out the blogs below.
For gorgeous, florid descriptives, startlingly vivid metaphors, and almost achingly old-soul takes on the Catholic Church, his decades-long relationship, or the ritualized behaviors of secretive men visiting adult bookstores, all woven through through the endlessly ribald adventure of his life, a frank and unblinking picaresque , I recommend Perge Modo. However, if do you step into the erstwhile Father Tony's confessional, be aware that he may try to slip you something through the partition. And it won't be no rosary.
Next up is Daily Blague, easily the most erudite destination on my blogroll. Delivering thoughtful takes on literature, film (not "movies"), restaurants, New York City, and many other topics, the prolific R.J. manages to tread that elusive line between common-man opinion making and intellectual punditry, a blogospherically rare achievement. Shamefully, the man behind Daily Blague is a self-confessed heterosexual, yet he can still write a fawning review of Rufus Wainwright, which is doubleplus cool.
My last recommendation, while technically not a New Yorker, still gets full Gotham cred for his keenly aware posts on Manhattan life, which he delivers from the far edge of the Hudson River, atop his Jersey City highrise. Aaron, at Meanwhile, is an devoted foodie, so expect reviews of unusual cuisines and dishes. Also expect reviews of beers, dissections of urban gay cliques, clear-headed opinions on world events, and anti-jingoist commentary on what it means to be American. First time vistitors might start with this brilliant recent post.