Morning View - 50 Feet From CBGB's

*M*

According to Lady Miss Blogger, this is my 1000th post. It's unreal that I've spewed that much nonsense in only 27 months, especially considering that for the first year I scarcely posted once a week. It reminds me of the woman who accused me of being with the CIA when she saw me taking pictures at the Iraq war protest.

"Hey! CIA! CIA! Look at him! Why is he taking pictures of us! He's CIA!"

"Chill, honey. I'm only taking pictures for my blog."

"For your what?"

"My blog. I'm a blogger. Do you know what a blogger is?"

:::pause:::

"Oh yeah, right. You're of those guys who go BLAH BLAH BLAH on the internet."

Pretty much sums it up.

In other meta-news, I'd like to direct you to a new email address for JMG-related messages. I can longer manage the volume of blog-related emails mixed in with all the dirty pictures and gossip that my IRL friends send me. I've seriously neglected my blog correspondence and oftentimes it's the most profound, smart, beautiful letters that get lost, because I think, "Oh, this one deserves quite a bit more than a dashed off 'thanks for writing'", and I put it aside until I can give it the response it deserves....and then within a few hours it's aged off my main mail page, never to be properly handled. Please direct JMG-related email to me at JoeMyGod@gmail.com. All my meatspace pals should continue using the old address.

And in other, other meta-news, I should mention that this blog has finally paid off in a way that is valuable to me. Over the past year in particular, publicists and agencies have sent me Broadway tickets, nightclub passes, books, CDs, t-shirts, product launch invites, etc. Sometimes I mention those items here, but only if I have something positive to say. (And usually, I don't. But keep that swag comin'!) Anyway, I finally got something I really like: FREE PORN. I'll be reviewing said FREE PORN here tomorrow, Saturday, for your NSFW pleasure. I'll put the (relatively tame, anyway) images behind a cut before Monday (once I figure out how to do that correctly. ) I haven't burdened y'all with advertising, "tip jars", or wish lists, so please embiggen your souls and allow me to post my FREE PORN review without cries of "Sell out!". And if anybody out there wants to send me more FREE PORN, see the email address above.

An Important Letter From A Reader

Sharing my concern over the cavalier attitude that so many young gay men seem to have regarding HIV, on Monday a reader sent me the chilling letter reprinted below. Please read this guy's story and reconsider what you think you know about HIV being a "manageable disease." For some people, it may be. But for many others, including this reader, it is a daily hell. I thank the reader for his letter and for his kind permission to print it here.

Hi, Joe --

I am sixteen years into being positive. Ten of those years I have been on a triple combination of Crixivan, Epivir and AZT. The first few years, once I got over the constant stomach cramps and nausea, were okay. My blood numbers improved and I eventually reached undetectable levels of HIV.

But I only had about six months between the end of the stomach cramps and the beginning of intermittent diarrhea. It's gotten so bad that I'm afraid to fart, because a couple of times I thought that was what I was doing and I ended up shitting myself instead. You can imagine what sort of stomach cramps I get sometimes after lunch. I now keep Depends (Depends! -- I'm not old enough for diapers!) at my desk at work.

I've had three bouts of pneumonia in the last two years.

My skin has gone from pretty trouble free to being covered with eczema patches, and I've developed a whole slew of allergies to things that are just part of life, like tap water -- try buying enough distilled water every day to shower and shave (I don't, but I'm allergic to something in the tap water -- we're trying to figure out what it is).

And I went from 135 pounds to 118 -- my former lover thought I was skinny at 135.

My liver and kidneys are beginning to show their damage. I don't make a lot of money. The medications I currently take would be beyond unaffordable if it weren't for a fairly decent health insurance program at my work; if I begin to suffer from serious organ deficiency or, god forbid, failure, there would be nothing between me and the Pearlies if I hadn't been able to get work with companies that insure their employees. That's something for the youngsters to chew on -- how many retail stores, especially the trendy, single-door types, insure their employees? How many bars, cafes, messenger services? How many companies in general, for that matter, insure their employees? Being young and carefree often means not paying attention to things like health and dental benefits, but how are they going to feel if they get infected and can't get coverage?

My social life is gone. I'm always afraid of an accident with the diarrhea, and I can't drink any more at all -- not wine, not beer, certainly not liquor -- although I never did drink much. Now, alcohol just makes me sick. The AZT has made my fingernails fall out once already, and they look and feel like they're getting ready to do it again. I also have "chemo hair" -- not much, with no body, and no life. My doctor and I agree that we don't want to change the medications -- I can't face having to go through a whole new set of physical miseries, and there's nothing like a guarantee that a new combination would keep the HIV in check.

All that is the negative. Of course, there is positive. I am grateful to be alive, and to be able to do some good in the world in a small way. I still enjoy little things even if I can't do the big stuff anymore. When my stomach's okay, I still like to cook and to eat. And once in a while, I can actually get over the physical pain and get some satisfaction in a decent jerk-off. So it's not all bad. But anyone who says the HIV has become a manageable disease like diabetes or high blood pressure is just plain not speaking from experience. Take it from the cranky old fella. It ain't no bed of roses.

A JMG Reader.....

Evening View - 9:08 PM

My Lookout

Almost six years sitting here and I've never looked up and noticed that my building has a dozen creepy Conquistador-ish friezes adorning the floor above mine. Not to mention the hundreds of baby heads or Virgin Marys or whatever those things under the roofline are. Embiggen for a better look. That's the thing about New York architecture, so many times the neatest shit is so damn high up, you have to be in the opposing 40th floor office to even see it. You can see how dangerously far I leaned out to get this shot. Livin' la vida loca! (Sorry.) Anyway, I think I'm gonna consider this guy my lookout. With his neck stuck out like that, he does appear to be in a state of cat-like readiness.

It Is What It Was

Orlando, Xmas, 1998

My mother picked me up at Orlando International late in the evening. I'd had two connections on my all-day flight from Oakland (stupid Southwest) and I was exhausted. I was looking forward to getting to her house and crashing, as she usually took me around the local malls on the days before Xmas and I'd need all my energy to endure that. As she drove me to her house, as is her habit, she pointed out various changes to the scenery since my last Orlando visit.

"That's the new Marriott Courtyard."

"Oh."

"And can you believe that apartment complex? They have TEN pools!"

"Ten. Wow." I leaned my head against my window and half-closed my eyes.

"Oh, and this new tall building on the right? Carol's daughter just bought a place in there."

"Nice." Who's Carol?

Two blocks from the entrance to my mother's 50-year old subdivision, my eyes widened. Across the parking lot from a rather ordinary strip mall (grocery store, drugstore, bank), was a heavily-wooded free-standing building with a logo that was rather familiar to me from my Ft. Lauderdale days.

The Club Baths. (NSFW!)

Here? In Orlando? ACROSS FROM MY MOTHER'S HOUSE??

My mother saw me turn in my seat as we passed. "Oh, that place? Some fancy gym. Brand new. Very popular. Cars there, day and night! They have a big outdoor swimming pool, but you can't see it with that huge fence."

She couldn't possibly know what the place was. I just nodded. "Oh." Unbelievable. A hour later I stood in my mother's moonlit backyard while she complained about the city coming to take down her orange trees. Some kind of tree-disease control program. And then, drifting across the hedges, the backyards, and a dozen swimming pools, I heard a faint, almost indiscernible voice, tinny and metallic.

"Room 227, your time is up, honey. Please see the front desk about checking out or renewing."

I shot a frozen look at Mom, but she didn't seem to have heard anything.

The next morning as we pulled out of her neighborhood, we sat at the traffic light, directly facing the "fancy gym" on the other side of the street. A muscular young man drove up in a jeep, jauntily hopped out, grabbed a backpack from the back seat and strode towards the front door. Mom took a careful turn onto Michigan Avenue.

About a block later, she laid this on me: "You know I used to belong to that place."

"What place?" Joe asked with great apprehension.

"That gym. I worked out there for years until it got too expensive."

"Um. You did?"

"Oh, yeah. It used to be Spa Lady."

Gentle readers, do you know how much it pained me not to make the joke? My brain still hurts from holding it back.

Morning View - Astor Place Building

Billing itself as a "sculpture for living" with "museum quality architectural loft residences" (whatever that means), the Astor Place opened last year to a chorus of boos in the East Village. Situated on a Flatiron-esque oddly shaped lot, the site was previously a parking lot. Still, locals had hoped for a building that reflected the neighborhood, namely something mid-rise and traditional, but were horrified by the glass-curtain tower that arose. In May of last year, the New Yorker architecture critic called Astor Place “an elf prancing among men with a garishly reflective façade channeling not Mies but Trump." Yee-owtch. Sales of the multi-zillion dollar apartments (which are neither coop nor condo, but some new hybrid called "condop") were so poor that New York Magazine wrote an article called "What Went Wrong At Astor Place?" Still, I noticed that it was Astor Place that all the tourists were photographing last weekend, largely ignoring the rest of the square.

Open Thread Thursday

The magazine publishing world in midtown is busily putting together their year-end issues and a couple of friends of mine are working on their magazine's Best Singles Of 2006 articles. Rather than asking you what your favorite singles of 2006 were, and getting a lot of possibly-not-entirely-true answers, in the cause of maintaining your cool-cred, let's do things another, easier, probably-more-true way.

1. Open your iTunes.
2. Sort by "Play Count"
3. List your three most played tracks that came out in 2006.

I understand that your list may be embarassing. I'll go first with mine, so's you don't feel so alone in your shame.

JMG Top 3 Most Played Singles From 2006

1. Life With A View - Blowoff
2. Minimal (Toca Discos Sunday At Space Mix) - PSB
3. I Am Adolfo - Drowsy Chaperone, Original Broadway Cast

Surely nothing you have in your Top 3 beats my #3 for sheer fagulousity. Or does it?

UPDATE: If we were going by videos, this one might be my number one. I think I've watched it 200 times, included 3 more times just making this update.
.

Fighting Fraggots

Frag: verb {Mil.Slang} - a term from the Vietnam War (derived from "fragmentation grenade") most commonly meaning: to assassinate an unpopular leader or member of one's own fighting unit who is placing the entire squad in jeopardy through cowardice or lack of leadership. Fragging, while extreme, can be considered a form of self-preservation for those put in danger by bad leadership.

I think "fragging" is a apt analogy for what is being done to closeted anti-gay politicians. And I am one fraggot who cheers every pin that is pulled.

FIRE IN THE HOLE! (So to speak.) Now go read what Sen.Craig's office proudly posted to his official site about his successful contribution to sinking ENDA back in 1997, and tell me if an ironic smile doesn't pass across your face as he rails against "promiscous homosexual males." As my granny used to say, "The guilty dogs bark the loudest!"

Case Studies: When Is Outing OK?

Senator Jones (R-Your State) is married with children. Senator Jones is a strident anti-gay activist who consistently authors, backs, and votes for legislation denying gay people to right to marry and the right to equal protection from discrimination in the workplace. He votes against adding sexual orientation to hate crimes legislation. Senator Jones secretly meets men in public places for anonymous sex.

Do we out Senator Jones?

Senator Smith (R-Your State) is unmarried. Although he rarely speaks out against gays, Senator Smith votes however he feels his constituents will approve, which typically is against gay interests. He votes against gay marriage. He votes against adding sexual orientation to job discrimination protections. Senator Smith and his boyfriend are well known on the gay DC social scene.

Do we out Senator Smith?

Senator Brown (D-Your State) is married with children. He is a tireless advocate for gay causes. He consistently votes in the favor of gay interests. He has a high rating from the Human Rights Campaign and is loathed by the Christian Coalition. He and his wife socialize with prominent gay activists. Senator Brown enjoys meeting men through the internet and using gay phone-sex lines.

Do we out Senator Brown?

John Doe is a highly placed staffer in a prominent Republican senator's office. Doe's boss is virulently anti-gay publicly, even though he graciously hosts Doe and his boyfriend at dinner parties in his home. Doe is dedicated and skilled and with the help of his expert advice, Doe's boss successfully thwarts numerous gay-friendly bills and positions himself as a "pro-family" advocate.

Do we out John Doe?

Barfly

I think I may be going out too much. I just tried to tip the newsstand guy who sold me a can of soda.

And The Loser Is.....Larry Craig

On national talk radio's Ed Shultz Show, to the tune of Diana Ross' I'm Coming Out, gay activist and blogger Mike Rogers today outed Senator Larry Craig (R-ID), claiming to have multiple independent sources from different parts of the country, all of whom say they have had homosexual sex with Senator Craig. Rogers' sources include one man who claims to have had sex with Craig in the men's room of Washington DC's Union Station, a Capitol Hill area train station. Rogers said, "The Senator has same-sex encounters with men and then actively works against the rights of gay people."

Rogers stated that he has concrete evidence that will protect him from potential libel litigation from Senator Craig, although he refused to give radio host Ed Shultz any specific substantiation, which was very disappointing. "My sources are individual men who have had sexual encounters with the Senator. I am willing to spend the rest of my life in prison to protect their identity."

Now in his fourth term, Senator Craig, 61, married Suzanne Thompson in 1987 and has adopted her three children from a previous marriage. Craig sits on the powerful Senate Appropriations Committee and is the chairman of the Veteran Affairs Committee. He also sits on the board of directors of the National Rifle Association and is active in hunter's rights causes.

Craig has a zero rating from the Human Rights Campaign and 100% rating from the Christian Coalition. On June 7th, 2006, Craig voted for a proposed amendment to the U.S. Constitution which would have banned gay marriage nationwide, had it passed. He also voted no on adding sexual orientation to the definition of hate crimes. Voted no on expanding hate crimes to include sexual orientation. Voted no on prohibiting job discrimination by sexual orientation. If you'd like to call our boy Larry and welcome him into the bright gay light, his DC office number is 202-224-2752.

UPDATE: Reactions on Andrew Sullivan, Daily Kos, Wonkette, Pam's House Blend.

UPDATE II: Download the MP3 of Mike Roger's radio appearance.

UPDATE III: Craig's office denies allegations.

Sandy Attackers Charged With Murder

Today the NYPD upgraded the charges to include murder, in the case of Brooklyn gay-bashing/robbery victim Michael Sandy, who died on Friday after being taken off life-support. Four young straight men laid in waiting for Sandy, after luring him for sex using a gay internet hook-up site (rumored to be Manhunt.net). Sandy broke away from from his attackers and ran onto the Belt Parkway, where he was struck by a hit-and-run driver. Two of the young men in custody (who were ID'd using IP addresses found on Sandy's computer) are now charged with second degree murder, second degree manslaughter, assault and robbery - all with hate crimes embellishments.

Sandy had agreed to meet one of his attackers on a street corner in Sheepshead Bay. His "date" and he then drove to Plum Beach where the other three young men were lying in wait. Police are calling this the "first case" of a gay man lured into an attack with the use of a gay "chat room", but I have heard of two other situations like this, in both cases the gay man escaped serious injury but was robbed. Guys, please take care in your internet hook-ups, the reason that these crimes come in waves is that the bad guys TALK TO EACH OTHER. Once the word gets out that gay men are seemingly easy marks using this chat room tactic, these crimes will only escalate. If you have been the victim of one of these scenarios, please do your gay brothers a favor and GO TO THE POLICE.

Who Will It Be?

The progressive blogosphere is on pins and needles today as BlogActive's Mike Rogers is about to finally come through on his threat to out an anti-gay Republican Senator for having public restroom sex with men. The revelation (and I have no idea how Rogers is going to substantiate his claim) will come live on national talk radio on the Ed Shultz Show, today at 5:30PM EST. You can listen live online here, or on Sirius Channel 146. Of course, you can return here to JMG at the end of the day and I will have the (hopefully) sordid details.

UPDATE: It appears to be an Idaho Senator. That means:

Senator Mike Crapo ------- OR -------- Senator Larry Craig.













UPDATE II: An amusing comment on BlogActive: "Just imagine: Somewhere a wife is getting the 'I Am A Gay American' speech, right before her husband signs a juicy book deal."

T-Dance At Radio City

Actually, it's intermission during the Pet Shop Boys. Most of the audience stayed in their seats, but several hundred of us decided not to waste a 20-minute mingle opportunity in one of the grandest rooms in NYC. Can you spot the woman? There was one there. We met her. Her name was Irene. Hi Irene!

UPDATE: Vasco made a short video of our night at the concert. It came out a little dark, but it's a cute little vid.

CNN: 36% Of Americans Complete Idiots

The latest CNN poll shows Bush receiving his all-time worst overall disapproval rating, 61%. And 64% of those polled say they disapprove of Bush's handling of the war in Iraq. More and more of the nation is turning against Bush, but there's no joy to be derived from his continued fall, just a continued sense of foreboding. And just who are these 36% who still approve? Mindboggling. Visit Polling Report for a comprehensive grid of Bush's recent numbers in various polls.

HomoQuotable - Andrew Sullivan

"Those of us who supported this war cannot wash our hands of the blood of tens of thousands of innocents it has now claimed." - Andrew Sullivan.

Actually, the respected British medical journal Lancet, using well-established estimation techniques, puts the number of Iraqi deaths at somewhere around 665,000, a little bit more than "tens of thousands." Still, I respect Sullivan's continued self-flagellation for his misguided past.

Mystery Date

Eagle roofdeck, Sunday, 9pm

Guy 1: So he calls me and says, "Bitch, you gave me the clap!" And I was all, "When? We haven't fucked around since like, Pride." And he goes, "Wait, that wasn't you at El Mirage?"

Guy 2: Ha, ha, ha. Drug addicts are funny.

Big Lug Opens October 24

Alfredo Troche's crazy-fun and long-running East Village bar night, Big Lug, is leaving its once-a-week gig at Nowhere Bar and morphing into a full-time bear bar in its own space on Avenue A. I've been known to drop in at Nowhere for the weekly event and I'm looking forward to seeing what my DJ pals Paul & Damien have up their sleeve for their 80's/electro Where's The Beef? night, on Wednesday's at the new space. Resident Eagle DJ Paul Ferrer, one of my first NYC friends, will take the helm at Big Lug on Thursdays for a deep house night called Trucker. Can NYC support another full-time bear bar? I see Big Lug drawing the younger, cubbier, East Village fur boys, so the Dugout, Ty's and Eagle should be only slightly affected by the new place.

Cab Wars On The UES

Yesterday afternoon I got in the middle of a fight between two cabbies arguing over who had the right to pick me up. I'd stuck my hand up on 2nd Avenue and both cabs jerked over to get me, one of them from the middle lane, one from the curb lane. The middle-lane guy accelerated to pass the curb-lane guy, reaching me first. I got in. The cut-off cabbie was not having it. He whipped around us and blocked my driver from pulling out, as they screamed at each other in Khazakstani. I sat there for a moment, debating, but when my driver got out to pummel the other driver's windows with his fists, I bailed for cabbie #3, who was watching the scene with great amusement. As we pulled away, my previous driver was vigorously kicking the door of his opponent. New York City, baby.

The Mark Of Kane

Over on The Mark Of Kane, my dear friend Mark has turned in another heartripping episode of his NYC life during the plague years. If you are under 30 (and even if you aren't) do yourself a favor and read his elegial story, My Best Friend. If the last line doesn't rip your heart out, it's entirely possible you never had one.

Morning View - The Puck

Soho's Puck Building went up in 1885 to house Puck Magazine, which went under in 1916. You might recognize it as the home of Grace Adler Designs, as it was used for the exterior shots on Will & Grace. Today the Puck contains office space as well as massive grand ballrooms used for corporate events. This photo I took Saturday morning doesn't give the proper sense of the building's size, it covers the entire block.

Rock Rink

Leaving Radio City last night, Aaron and I strolled through Rockefeller Center where we were rather surprised to find the skating rink packed already, in mid-October. What happened to fall?

"And We Are *Still* The Pet Shop Boys!"

Above, Neil Tennant's final words to tonight's sold-out crowd of almost 100% middle-aged gay men at Radio City Music Hall. And indeed they are. An amazing show that took us far back into their catalog, tossing out old, unexpected gems that we've never heard in concert before. My oldie highlight: Domino Dancing. From the latest album, Fundamental, we heard: Psychological, Numb, I'm With Stupid, The Sodom & Gomorrah Show, Minimal. For my little group of hardcore PSB fanboys, we were over the moon to hear so much of the early material, including several cuts from 1987's Actually. The only downside was our realization that the balconies at Radio City are light years away from the stage, but we enjoyed nonetheless, as best one can from a kilometer away. As I mentioned, the Boys gave us a fat set, 25+ songs, but they did not perform my all-time favorite, the elegial Being Boring, which is OK, as it always makes me cry.

UPDATE: According to the NYTimes, "Judging from Saturday’s show, the Pet Shop Boys attract an appreciative crowd in which women are a distinct minority." Shocking!