esrosedotblog

I am so tired of these belligerent motherfuckers. Times headline: Senate Republicans Block 2 Obama Nominees.

Keerist. When will it end? 2014, that's when. And if we elect these tiresome bastards to any further control we deserve what we will get. Signed: Fed Up.

It is nice to see some intelligent movie fun. I have waited for what seems like a long time to see Kings of Summer (2013). It delivers the goods. Funny and wise and very nice. No one gets mutilated or hurt. Everyone is a winner. Wit wins. The reviews are picky about its credibility to the viewer. One word, "relax". Another one or two "Have fun". The acting is great with some very smart kids and a few entertaining parents. Tired of the parents, two guys and a guy who nominates himself as their sidekick, build the ultimate "shack". We were always doing this when I was a kid. You need woods that are big enough for the project to remain unnoticed but small and near enough to get home before dark. We had lots of places to do this. The area must still be littered with the attempts to build a get away. We had the advantage of Harold Bixler who was a master of improvised construction. When he aged out, the process wound down as none of the two or three of us left) his brother David and I and sometimes Kenny Krummel had the goods to build sustainable housing.

Happy Halloween! It is not the holiday here that it is back east where it was the highest holy day of "the gays". I opted out a long time ago. Costumes elude me. I think that it is a good idea but I have never executed well. For some it is an opportunity to dress drag. Not appealing and I don't much like to see it. I have never gone to a drag show I liked. When friends and acquaintances do it I have a lot of internal grimace. I know that some people equate drag with being gay as the used to equate fem behavior with being gay. I can't handle it at all. I have gone home with some real sissies but when it comes down to relating, it is men and male men all the way for me. And I don't mean macho stuff either. Fem is a turnoff for me in general. Sorry. Some of the gayest of men are determinedly phobic in this area. Me too. No. I am not sorry. Just don't do it around me and talk drag either. "She did his" or "that" and "Mary". I can take it for awhile if I have to but then bail out. And I never, ever want to have drag names for male friends. Every. None. Absolute. Zero.

No "images" for the last two days. What is up? No time to go dig around for pictures I guess. Certainly not any of drag queens. Oh well. Here is an "image".

I like the one with the bare chest. Facing his titlessness like a man. And doing very well at it too. No wig either. See? I am attracted. I would gladly take him home with me.

The thing about these guys as they see the humor in it and they are not subtle. At all. This would actually be the halloween type of drag which, I guess, forced to admit it, I think is kinda funny and quite harmless. Especially if you leave your shirt off and your pecs are sensational.

Labels: drag, films, gay identity, republican whack jobs

Today's film explores problems of gay people, green cards, international relationships, a lot of serious shit.But its approach is not to be tragic but positive, towards solutions and finally about love of various kinds.

I Do (2012) That doesn't mean that it has easy solutions. I liked it a lot and the producers know that clothing a serious film with a good looking plus cast is a route to my heart. Not that being hot is necessary for me to get into it but it doesn't hurt. I would not mind seeing this again for a wider variety of reasons so it is at least a 4 out of Netflix5 and, since it is gay, it gets an extra point to encourage more of this kind of serious film production. Issue oriented, in this case DOMA, does not mean we can't have a little good times along with the informing and explaining.

Check this out. A "find" for me. I have been a loyal watcher everyday. He posts a few shots of people who are special without being special. Humans of New York . It is very nice. You know. Human? And in New York City too. Who would have thought? Just when I thought that fresh photojournalism was dead.

Labels: films, gay immigration, gay marriage

I had the rug pulled out from under me on a bank account. The brokership changed hands and the account that formerly had a debit card and check writing discontinued check writing and didn't tell any of us. Not only that but they continued to pay the checks so there wasn't any reason to be concerned until they didn't. Pay the checks. Two returned checks from Amex and a few others later (I couldn't figure out what was going on at first) and I am getting it all restored as it is available just not in the transfer. A double bolix in that my account manager didn't know about it either. I-fucking-magine that. So, no harm done with Amex, as it turns out although it will go on my un-blemished record (I think that I wrote the wrong amount on a check ten years ago) which I have had for over 40 years. The others, Blue Cross and another thing sent notices that the checks were not paid, I sent new checks and that was that. I have worked hard to keep up and not have anything like this and then, well, no fault, no real trouble and move on.

Today's film was a talker, about story telling. Francois Ozon, a great and prolific French director. In the House (2012) And Fabrice Luchini, also a favorite, as a teacher who gets too involved with a student who writes well. He begins to coach him and things go a bit out of hand. Real life begins to distort along with the story. Kristen Scott Thomas as his wife. Another fave. Wow. What a movie. A definite 4 out of Netflix5. The kid is played by a young actor who can hold his own with these powerful stars, Ernst Umhauer.

We lost power for a couple of hours tonight.I was sitting at the computer and pfffft. It was a transformer right outside our condo unit. The whole line of units was out but not any other sections. We were especially chosen. I had moussaka in the oven and it was just about done, not quite but enough. Then we diddled around in the dark and I went to bed early. Now I am up because I can't stand not having the clocks set and after this I will go back to bed. Maybe a half hour of sleep lost if that. No damage done. I hung out with the guys for awhile outside and they told me that they had turned the transformer off themselves. They had been up the street most of the day replacing a blown transformer and when it went on, ours tested as not OK. They told me that it was good for it to happen this way rather than for it to blow as it kicks the shit out of all the lines and since we are underground they have to monkey around with repairs which take a lot longer. When it blows up. They don't mean it explodes but it does sort of. I really don't get it. I suppose that shows doesn't it? Ours was a lot smaller than the one in the picture. The most impressive part was the scale and power of the huge trucks. Derricks, machinery, all kinds of shit on them. Big heavy iron.

Labels: banking, electric power, films

Today's film surprises and satisfies. My Brother the Devil (2012) shows two brothers, one good one bad. A classic setup. But hardly a classic resolution as the younger tries to emulate the older and the end point becomes enmeshed in questions of sexual identity and adult choices. It is hard to accept the younger brother as only 14, he looks 20, but beyond that, the story wends its suspenseful way to a conclusion that one could not foresee. Or, rather, I could not see. It is great to watch, always stimulating the eyes and ears. Cinematography and sound design. These are London street kids, well Hackney, and it is hard to tell what they are saying some of the time. No subtitles for the American. But it doesn't matter really. The story is so well developed it comes through loud an clear. Also, a very subtle gay subtext is present with an original twist. Most expectations get dashed in this and we are drawn deeply into the events before us. A 4 for sure. I would gladly see it again.

Storming today on the outside. It is going to be windy, then cold with rain and I may get to transition to jeans from shorts. 40s and 50s at night. 60 and 70n days. Another step into our winter. We so seldom get real weather it is something of a treat.

Labels: films, weather

It is amusing to see all the hoo hah about our listening in on Merkel's phone calls. Is this a surprise? I would listen in on Angela Merkel anytime I could to figure out which way she will swerve on any given day. All this attention to spying is pure sensationalism. Believe me, if they could, they would all be listening in on Obama. Watch. The same people that howl against this are the ones who also want transparency and openness in government. How open can you get? Don't get me wrong. I don't want anyone listening to my phone calls but it is going to happen and happen big time the higher up one goes in the international game. Sorry. My reaction is that I am positively impressed with our skill at this shit. The Germans have to be pretty smart at security, they practically invented it. But this is an embarrassment to them and it is not going down well but it is not the end of the world. When Germany and Merkel want to disassociate from us and cuddle up with the new Putin, that will be something. For now, she should be grateful to have us nestled up to her ear.

I just finished the least likely book I would read all year. The Testament of Mary by Colm Toibin. Unlikely as it is that Mary. You know, the holy mother. Why? Did I read it? Because I read everything by Toibin. He is a bit of a professional catholic. And I am not sorry I read it. As a literary experience it is pretty good. As a spiritual experience it is weird because the "new god" is not in it. Mary likes Artemis. She tells the hyper familiar story of Jesus in the end days and her experience of the whole thing. First, she is not cowed by the people who are milking her for her take on the whole thing. The guys who wrote the gospels. They are putting the story together and they have just a bit of an idea of how it should go and they want her concurrence. But she doesn't want to go along. In turn, they will protect her as it is not too safe a time to be the chosen one's mom even though she is out of the places where they are after the newly minted christians. Her story of it all is not that much different but she is a skeptic when it comes to the miracle stuff. She sees some of it and can explain it some. Lazarus was buried prematurely and even though he was out of the grave he was comatose for a long time after and then died for real. She says she saw the water into wine thing but didn't know but what all the jugs had wine except the one the gang set up for him to wave his hand over. And so on. As for the resurrection, she does not see it but rather sees it in a dream along with the other Mary. The novel is short and a very satisfying fiction read. I don't know how you would take it all if you were a believer in the myths but I don't think you would be offended by her take on things. After all, she is his Mom and the idea of a virgin birth is kind of abstract when you have been having regular sex with your husband all along. She focuses on the fact that this is her son. The boy she raised who went away and came back a man. A man with some strange presence about him. And with followers. Not only disciples but a rabble who hung out around the phenom who was viewed to be the new king of the jews. I liked this novel and would read it again sometime. Toibin is a great writer who has done non-fiction work as well as journalism, not the same thing as non-fiction literature. Sorry, if you are a journalist you are not quite and artist of the written word. So the book is a meld of all the genrés, a neat piece of reporting from the front by an eyewitness and a poetic recitation on motherhood. No matter who your son is or was or will be.

Another interview today with a young woman who has been especially mystified by driving here and finding the meeting place. I expect to point out that going to Boston area will be a lot more complicated but perhaps not. You hop on a plane and get off and take a cab. Here she has to drive from out in the Imperial Valley and find her way through the desert, five other "cities" which are not, and then find my corner in a place she has never, apparently, been. I did warn her about the bikers being there. So far it does not seem to have deterred her from the interview. Me either.

Labels: Administration Obama, books, desert, MIT

I interviewed an MIT applicant today in the middle of Palm Springs motorcycle weekend. I forget to check the events calendar before I have an interview so, each year, I will hit an event which pours a lot of traffic and activity right where I meet up. The place of the meeting is all pre-arranged although I can call at the last minute and get things squared away. Today it was the bikes and the bikers. It all worked out. Please, excuse me, but do bikers know that they are a walking talking stereotype? The look. Men and women. It is a little embarrassing. The kid today was from La Quinta, a ritzier city down valley. Some welcome to Palm Springs. Cheesy. But we met up and had a good talk and I liked him and was able to write a good review of an unconventional kid who has a lot to offer and has had experiences that many of us are unlikely to ever be involved in. He was a troubled teen and got packed off to a boot camp style "academy" when he was in 8th grade. In the middle of the night. Two "transporters". From there it is a story of finding one's self and growing up. The system seems to have worked for him. He has stayed there four years and mentors other kids. I really liked him.

The bikers disappeared but my god they are a mess.

The interview threw my day off and my new regime of walking Booker in the afternoon went by the wayside. He doesn't seem to mind.

Labels: Booker, MIT

No gym this morning. As I went to the car, I saw that the door to the freezer was open about three inches. Shit. This happens. Someone forgot to double check. A box got in the way. It felt solid on the closing but there was a waffle carton sticking out.

The real problem is that we did not buy a freezer with a positive latch on it. Be warned. This has happened several times in the past but this time, the worst. I had to take out at least half of the stuff mostly on the top three shelves. That is another thing. I buy two of stuff or buy ahead. The thing was loaded. Two black garbage bags worth. Ice cream, some meat, all the meat loaf I made the last time. That hurt the most. And I got over it fast. A lesson and what the hell. Maybe a hundred bucks worth of stuff. I could leave the lower half in there. Shut the door, let it go back from 50 to 0. I had to go to the store this morning anyway. I only bought for the next several days until the freezer got back to the bottom. There was some space in the regular freezer drawer. It has all worked out fine. Over and done with. I would almost just junk the goddam freezer that is there and buy one with a latch but there doesn't seem to be one. For $V800 I can get a 20 cf Frigidaire with an alarm for failure. Too much. Too little. We would have never heard an alarm. Unbelievable that there is no such thing. Well, I am sure there is but not easily found. Next time, if there is one, I will fucking find one.

The late Sixties (should I capitalize them?) were a special time for most of us of a certain age. A lot of what we thought was happening at the time was not. But we "happened" in the midst of utopian assumptions and a bunch of false evidence that things were changing. Oliver Assayas (a favorite director) has made a movie about his own experience as a 16 year old at that time. Something in the Air (2012) is a gentle, sweet film about the all the paths that opened up at that time and how some teens were diverted and at least one teen found himself and came out whole. Everyone is caught up in the aftermath of the 1968 student riots which open the film. Some drift off to India, others into militant politics. Our young hero is in the life selling papers, using and developing his art in making posters, following his interest in experimental film. Dad is a television producer and while he disdains the work, he cannot avoid being attracted and while repelled at the same time, he finds himself a niche. The film ends with a small film that he evidently made. Girls come and go, friends are not constant, well one is, but the kid keeps on his own path. I loved this film. It is very nice and the boy is extremely attractive in the way he deals with the two sides of his life, revolutionary friends and a conventional family life. We only see his Dad and the scenes with him, including an argument, are very nice to watch. Their relationship is so loving. You feel the struggle of the teen and the tug of the love. A beautiful balance. I had that myself so I understand it. I will give this a 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: appliances, films

Today was a bit of a lost day. We had the cleaners here and they called to come early. I said OK. There were four of them which made it quicker than normal but there was no chance that my plan, which was to watch a movie while they were here, would work out. So I read and kibitzed a little and sat outside. And read. They did a great job. Thorough. Detailed. They clean out the refrigerator for heaven's sake. I have never done that except on a spot basis. They have also caught us up on the outside, furniture, concrete, stuff. We had some problems. Things would not end up where they found them but I have worked that out with them pretty well. I know it should not make a difference but there is always a mixed gender group. Today, two men, two women. But it makes a difference. The men do the heavy duty stuff which includes hosing and brushing the outside floors down, climbing to clean the clerestory windows and so on. Last week they cleaned the filthy garage. I am still enough of a sexist to like having a man around the house. Admitted. Today the guy in charge asked if I would like him to bring his big carpet cleaning machine next time. He would only charge for the chemicals it uses. Of course, I said yes. It is not as good as one of those come to the house in a truck service but it beats any other form of cleaning so, yes. Yes.

I have finished two books this week. Peter Orner's new volume of short stories: Last Car Over the Sagamore Bridge . That car left as a hurricane approached. These stories are great. Orner writes in short bursts. Some of the stories only half a page long. Others a page. The rest maybe several pages but none longer then four or five. Succinct. And very dramatic. Hard hitting. I really liked them and I do not, as a rule, enjoy short stories at all. I was told that he was the short story writer for people who do not like short stories and that is correct. At least for me. I also finished reading but did some fast forward for Enon: by Paul Harding. Enon is the town where Hardings wonderful first book took place and here we have more, exhaustively, of its small town history and life experience of a father who has lost his 13 year old daughter to an auto accident. The book drips with nostalgia and some wonderful writing about his time as a kid and then as a father. Also a husband in a tenuous marriage which buckles at the tragic event. The novel drips with grief. Grief unabated. Self centered grief. Grief for the human loss but the loss of innocence in a town in which innocence does not really exist except in the romantic impulses of people like the stricken father. I was on board until the drug addiction got so deep and the self absorption so single minded that I just couldn't take anymore. I loved the stories of his boyhood, his wonderful grandfather, the sweet relationship with his daughter. But enough became enough. I had to leave or skip to the end which has him recovering more or less but we do not see that part. What happened? I know that it is usually a spiritual experience that leads to putting the juice down but we do not see his. It just happens. I felt cheated. It is like hearing a recovered alcoholic and/or addict tell there story and never getting to the getting sober part. Maybe I identified too much but I don't think so. I have heard some pretty sad and grisly stuff live and in gruesome detail over the years. It is more that Harding seemed to engage in the same self indulgence with the writing about the sadness. Trying too hard to get it down, deeply. The first book, (they all say "please don't compare my first with my second book") was sunny and tough at the same time. Here, the past is sunny. The present is gruesomely dark and the future looks no better. Until it suddenly is. Huh?

We are back on the afternoon dog walk schedule. We had to do it because we were getting home in the dark after supper but it is not going to be "right" until daylight savings ends and we have some less sun before dinner. I am doing the prep for the cooking and so far that has worked OK. We get home at about 5PM or earlier and that allows plenty of time for a quick sit-down and then a run to the kitchen for the final production. We didn't stay out on the walk too long. It was warm and Booker was tired. He did not like the massive intrusion this morning with the cleaners. He groused the whole time and was very not friendly. Too much for him. I kept him apart with me and we sat outside a lot but that didn't make him feel much better. I can tell when he is not interested in the night time walk. It takes about five minutes or less to poop and then he turns around. Done. A utilitarian walk not a perambulation, a sniffing expedition or a visit to the larger territory. His territory. All the way up to the ball field and down, this morning, to the convention center. That probably affected it too. A very long walk this morning.

Labels: Booker, books, condo, life

Hurried home from a meeting for a date with a friend who never showed. No problem. Open time. Which I like a lot. Found time. Time to just float. I thanked him when he called to say he was sorry. Surprise. I will meet him next week. Or not. We talked anyway. He has a trip back to his "home". A curious word to describe our original family or the location we grew up or the location of a period of our life which is nearly over. Some people never leave even when they have not been there for a long time. I am not sure that I ever referred to that place as home once I left. But then, my separation from it was more dramatic than most. Except for occasional visits to my parents, I never went back, never saw any of the many relatives except for one cousin who refused to be ignored. Once that separation had occurred, it seemed impolite to barge back in. If I wanted to which I did not. So "home" for me has always been the place where I was living and having my daily experiences.

I fooled around with a list of locations that I frequent on a particular website. Mostly, I wanted to be able to click right into the particular posting that I was interested in but the site has a password entry system and does not accept my bookmarks even when I have gone through the sentries. So I am making a list of addresses with the > thing that will help me click to the place I want to be. I don't get why the bookmarks will not work here but they do not so I have to do this makeshift arrangement. Shit.

Today's movie was Leos Carax' first film Boy Meets Girl. It is French and Carax was trying to innovate. It is not too easy to get. There is sort of a story but not really. It is mostly about people not connecting so there is a lot of air space. I liked it and will give it a 3. I don't think I will order his three other films though. I can say that I had a good look, it was OK, but I want to hang out with other stuff than he shows up with here. What was most interesting to me is that the star, or one of them, is Dennis Lavant who went on to do a lot of films including a favorite, Beaux Travail. He is an ugly mutt who has great eyes and considerable charisma. Corax met him in an unemployment office where Lavant was trying to get some work when he was down on his luck as an actor. Ugly mutt. Mireille Perrier is the woman he falls in love with when he hears her breaking up with her boyfriend—over the intercom in the street. Funny. A great scene. As are many small bits on the way to a sort of conclusion. One of the details of the film is that people are getting together left and right around these two. In the background. Constantly. Hugging, kissing, going home together. Our two struggle through the simplest speech. At one point Lavant has to go to a toilet in a train stop (the one in the train is occupied) and, distracted by a pinball machine, misses the train while Marielle goes on her way. French. Carax wrote the script when he was 16 but they wouldn't let him make the film because of his youth. Blah blah. It is an interesting film and here is more about it.

Around here, not France, people are returning from wherever they go in the summer. There is a mild contempt for these escapees on the part of those who stay through the entire year. Us. Our immediate next door neighbor just returned from Boston. He bought the condo in the spring then left. I haven't seen him but there is evidence of his presence. Lights on during the "night". Booker and I see them when we go out for our AM pee.

There are others on the street coming back. We are friendly but not too friendly as these folks just pick up and leave when the going gets a little rough. Actually, they leave in May and return in late October thereby missing the best months of the year, June and September. October. Right now, it is glorious. Warm days, cool nights, brilliant sunlight.

Labels: condo, films, weather

Love to spell it out: schadenfreude and be able to get it on the first bounce. Further, it is more fun when applied to something like this: Republican's Poll Low Low Lowest.The polls are just rolling out. All are similar. They are setting upon one another like wolves. The teas have way overreached themselves and the regulars let them. Like letting your nasty dog run and it goes out of control, bites the neighbors kids and shits on everyone's lawn. No one likes that. Hard to put them dogs back on the leash, guys.

Today's film was a great martial arts potboiler Detective Dee and the Mystery of the Phantom Flame. This is a "true" story with magic thrown in. The only Chinese Empress ever. The big attraction here is Andy Lau who has to be the most watchable of the Hong Kong stars. He has the screen at all times when he is on. It is a good story and the "tricks" are well done if mostly "on the wire", meaning that they do it all with assistance. It is still pretty spectacular as it simply takes it all to a new level.

Around the neighborhood with Booker. The condos are enduring a total painting. This means that all the landscaping needs to be trimmed back or bound up or something. Away from the wall. We are having ours done by the HOA gardener at our cost (public them, private us) so there is no figuring it out. This is good because I would have had someone do a much more severe job than he is going to do. There has been the usual flail around it. After considerable study of the painting options by a committee on which John served, the powers that be in the HOA ignored the recommendations and what they do will be what they do. As per usual. Feedback is solicited and then pretty much bypassed. John quit the committee quietly. We are due for paint in two weeks. We are not removing one cactus pot and a set of plaques that are in the wall over the fountain. We didn't put them in. This may cause trouble but I am always up for a little shit stirring.

Labels: condo, films, tea party

So maybe I can do the blog with less of a flourish and just headline the days.

It is worth a try. It seems as though am not ready to give it up yet.

Today's film was The Boys in the Band which we have seen quite a few times and which does not lose its power to move emotions and a sense of value about how far we have come since its time. 1970 seems like a century ago. On the other hand, there are certain gay life eternals and they ring true, mostly the funny parts. There are quite a few of those.

My reaction is that a lot of the self hatred people saw in it when it came around was not so much in the film as in the film watcher.

I got it out because I just saw the documentary about making it. Mart Crowley, the writer, was featured. He remarked that it was amazing to him that we were still talking about this film 40 years later. Yes.

The photo is from a cast reunion. All but a few of the guys are gone now, mostly from AIDS.

We are slowly getting back to normal after quite a wonderful visit with two of "our boys" who visited and vacated for themselves and were able to do some chores for us but mostly be available for family time right there in living color.

It is important to staying in touch that we, for awhile, be touching.

They installed a new faucet in my bathroom and if I had known what an undertaking it was I might have not asked them to do the work.

But it did not seem to be a hardship for them who, surprisingly, acted like a team even though one had more experience and took the lead.

John and I are only children and it is amazing to us to see brothers together. John came to say that they were talking to one another all the time. Which is true but also not really true. They are in cahoots with each other in a way that I envy. Very nice to watch and to be a part of.

They have a collective memory of their family life which is revealing in the conversation. Only exceeded by the wealth of collective memory when there are more than two kids around.

This annual visit involves others other years but this year the rest of the gang are either out of the continent or doing other work or otherwise occupied and could not be here. We missed them and still had a great time.

I am having a normal week ending on Saturday with an interview with an MIT kid. Which, for this time of year, is normal.

Labels: blogging, family, films, MIT

We have visitors.

The kind I want to spend all the time with.

So, no postings for a few days.

The tiresome routines of the government and the relentless beat of the drums of right wing arrogance and obstructionism have sort of worn me out of any comment. They ain't worth it. They have lost but let them know if you will.

I am taking a vacation from that too. Not my job.

The good news is that I just completed my 34th year of sobriety and celebrated with many of my Program friends yesterday.

More and more I am spending my time with the volunteer work that I like so much, work with other alcoholics. This doesn't include comment at a public level.

Nor does my work with the current high school seniors that I am seeing in connection with their interest in MIT.

SO.

Not a whole lot of raw material there either.

I am thinking about putting the blog into retirement and going back to my communications with friends on a more one on one basis.

We shall see.

A short time off might re-fresh the blog batteries.

Labels: blog

Mart Crowley, author of The Boys in the Band says that he is amazed we are still talking about it 40 years later.

And that is what this documentary is about.

Making the Boys (2009)

The play and the film seem to be timeless although the story is quite specifically about the pre-Stonewall time.

A roomful of typical gay men have a birthday party and talk, talk, talk.

Of course a lot more happens. Old loves and present loves are revealed, wounds become deeper or are healed. Talk talk talk.

This play was controversial when it came out. It was the first time anyone anywhere told the story or more or less real gay men. Of course it was theatrical, not naturalistic, but it vividly showed gay characters having a real life.

At first it was viewed as a great coming out experience and affected many closeted men. Also young gay men who didn't yet get that they were not alone in their differences whatever they were.

In only a few years after it was made into a film, Stonewall occurred and gay liberation bloomed. In that period, the play became an emblem of the old way of life. Not correct. Not happy.

I never saw it that way myself.

Meanwhile the play was produced all over the world in many languages. It was very popular in Japan.

Then in the last decade, it has come back into vogue. A document of our history. A true depiction of a life which may not be normal any more but still with all the same identification for gay men whether they are aware of its history or of gay history (many young gay men are not).

The documentary is really Mart Crowley's artistic life. It is very good.

Good enough that I will be watching the film again.

I have my own history with this movie. At first, when I saw it, I found it frighteningly stereotypical. I was not out. Even to myself. All this changed during the 70s and no more than five years later, I was out and about as a gay man.

In another decade, when I was a gay father, in a settled relationship with another man and so on, I saw it again and saw it as history. Enjoyed it. It was no longer a threat. I found that it was about me just not in that way.

More recently, I am able to watch the film and just totally enjoy it and leave all moral and political judgement aside. It is a wonderful drama and true to from the tip of its hairs to the bottom of its gay feet.

I can identify with all these men.

Crowley has become a gay hero. Long may he wave. There is a new production in NYC and it is, as he says, amazing we are still talking about it 40 years later.

Lots of historic gay film here. Fire Island parties, closeted at the time stars, many many inside stories. Beautifully done. And it is still controversial. Watch Edward Albee's sour grapes assessment of the play as he purses his lips and sneers at a work that did more for his own theatrical story than any other. He is credited with having forged the way with his own play about a straight marriage (Virginia Wolf) which has forever been identified as a closeted story about a gay relationship and did serve as a template for Boys.

I plan to watch it again next.

Labels: films

Whatever could go wrong on the internet does.

In this intense and very good film, four situations unfold with consequences that no one might have predicted. Normal people caught in abnormal circumstances.

Disconnect (2012)

A kid who does internet x-rated chat gets manipulated by a television journalist. A couple gets their identity stolen in the middle of a period of great grief. A cyber-detective finds that the internet can strike at home and a couple of kids cause another kid to have a disastrous experience, bullying gone out of control.

Not a quiet film at all. Only two of the situations are connected. The others float off into the quite real universe. The safety of the internet does not exist.

Intense thriller ensues. Edge of the seat stuff.

I could not begin to tell you when and where it will grab you and not let go but I am pretty sure that will happen.

I can only say that it was well worth the ride for me. A satisfying experience all around. Not easy. Just satisfying.

I wonder if I should even post this. Something may be out there to grab my ass.

Actually, that is a bit unfair. If the people in this film suffer from anything it is naiveté.

Failure to take precautions with security data, disinterest in kids' on line activity, television exploitation, sex sites and their impact on the people who serve as the fantasy stand in. Lost in the system.

A nice balance of thriller with cautionary lessons.

There is a lot going on. I would not mind seeing it again sometime. But not tomorrow. A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films, internet

Labels: christists, fun, republican whack jobs

Today's film is a gay version of the classic Hollywood fantasy.

Become a star but first get any part you can get.

And if that fails get a handsome boyfriend.

Going Down in LA-LA Land (2012)

It is a little more complicated than that and the complications are interesting and enjoyable. This is a comedy that turns serious as romance enters the picture. Not something one bargains for when looking for a career "in the business".

The title is a little too corny and double entendré. Don't get it? Think about it.

It is a bit more elegant than that, not a peep show or a porn piece. But there are some nice bodies and some sweet sexy scenes between good looking people and what is wrong with that while you are working your way through a show business cliché?

The young star, Matthew Ludwinski, appears sort of white bread at the beginning and then he takes his shirt off. Amazing. Nothing dramatic, just every single inch in the right place and juxtaposition. It is totally believable that he could become a porn star (a sidetrack he gets into pursuing "legitimate" acting). I would certainly watch the whole thing after he is done with the nice foreplay and sweet love making that we do see.

It is a little too long at 144 minutes, the standard min/max for this kind of film is 90 minutes, so there is some dragging in the later scenes.

I liked it. I do not intend to buy our own copy but it is a credit to its genré and can be watched with some quiet enjoyment.

A 4 out of Netflix5.Maybe a 5 if we decide to buy it. I am awaiting a second opinion.

Labels: films

The circumstances of war come to envelop the lives of three men.

In Bello Russia, World War II, sides are taken, sabotage is conducted and lives are changed.

The central question seems to be whether people's character changes and, if so, what are the consequences. Or, conversely, what if people's character does not change? How do traumatic situations alter their lives.

These are the theme of the intimate film

In the Fog (2012)

Four trainmen are arrested for sabotage to what turns out to be a trainload of refugees.

Three are hung and the fourth, refusing to sign a collaboration agreement, is allowed to go free. But to what?

He is suspected in his own village for the collaboration anyway. Measures are to be taken and rebel enforcers, two of them, come to take him away.

One of the enforcers is a childhood friend.

The story is basically about these three men. What happens to them on the way to the execution becomes one of the "situations that change" caused by the war.

Through some flashbacks and some disruptions in the execution plan, the three men are placed on a different footing with each other.

How this affects each of them and the group together is the focus of the film.

While there are some other players, the entire film is about these three. Intimate.

Many issues are explored. Loyalty. Choice. Trust. Brotherhood.

Very good.

I would happily see it again sometime.

The visuals are extraordinary. The faces, the Russian countryside, woods. Birds.

Labels: films

I conducted my first MIT student applicant interview of the year today.

It was a great start.

A nice, outspoken, self aware kid who has a lot of talent and is likable besides.

I was able to recommend him as a good admit all things being equal which, of course, they usually are not.

The odds are pretty stiff against kids and they know it.

But their interview is important and they know that too.

So I try to take it as seriously as I would want for myself.

Some kids make that easy. He was one of them.

I always learn something new and he was engaged in a gaming organization with a long reach into his community and in the world.

He is an "official". Someone who knows the rules, arbitrates disputes, and teaches where people are encountering one of the areas new to them.

The surprising thing is that it is computerized but mostly depends on the playing of "cards" which are physical like a 52 traditional card deck.

They have game rooms at the game stores where these people meet.

The fans of the game cut a wide swath through the social strata. A lot of military, as it turns out, because it is something that is available wherever they are stationed and a good social outlet in a place where there is little such opportunity.

There is a huge Navy/Marine base near here and they are the people he has worked with.

What a great opportunity for a smart kid.

Labels: gaming, MIT

There are no classes in America except when there are.

The upper middle class segment of society is not the part of the middle class that is disappearing. They are alive and well.

College educated, probably professional, slightly suburban or mid western, the women are what used to be called "matrons". Slightly plump guardians of the status quo. In charge of raising the brood of a professional man or a man who is newly rich from some entrepreneurial effort.

This is why the two books that I just re-read are still so apt and have become pillars of American Twentieth Century Literature (whenever those words are capitalized like this. This, despite the relative obscurity of their author.

Mrs. Bridge (1959) and the companion novel Mr. Bridge (1969) by Evan S Connell

These people are insulated from the world, society and each other. Also their children and even their friends who are close but not too close.

I like these novels for just what they are, a good read. But also because they are a good study of couple-hood and the traps that might ensue after the initial excitement of conventional marriage.

I might add that gay men are not immune from some of the same observations.

These are two people who married for reasons a bit beyond the romantic. Convenience, class (even though there is none in America) and most of all the ability not to roil the waters. To let one partner run things and the other stand by as the help meet.

It is also a portrait of a family which is well to do because of the intensity of the breadwinner's devotion to work over any consideration of partnership or parental involvement.

It is easy at one level to mock the Bridges but Connell makes that impossible.

They are presented sympathetically and in a way that engages the reader even beyond his desire to get involved with these people. They are not mockable because they have substance and foibles and their relationship while stiff and distant most of the time is blessed with mutual respect and admiration.

Their relationship to their kids in changing times (pre WWII) is strained with the difficulty of societal change. Instability.

The eternal values the Bridges were brought up with have shifted and old expectations and mores are not very effective.

I am their kids. My time was just in time to be there for all of this post WWII stuff.

And there we have a nub of it.

Even though they are of a different class they are my mother, at least, and my father.

This alone makes the reading worthwhile. A new basis for understanding.

I was the misunderstood son. The unappreciative daughter. The rebel against what is right and wrong.

What great books!

A film was made combining the two novels in one production starring Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward. A perfect vehicle. I do remember seeing it. But I would not bother now. The novels have it down. I do not see the Newmans when I see this Bridge couple. I see them as Connell has painted them.

Connell is an interesting guy. A late bloomer who only wrote one other popular work, something about Custer and Custer's Last Stand. Pretty far away from the Bridges.

Connell got lost as a literary hero or icon but his works remain as standards for writing about the American family or the American marriage.

Labels: America, books

The story of the Buckleys, father Tim and son Jeff, both tragically gone after short careers, probably worth several movies.

This biopic is really a tribute to the songs and spirit of both singers.

I enjoyed it although a lot of other people did not, apparently, for extraneous reasons like the film did not have the approval of the Buckley estate or that the star, Penn Badgely's only claim to fame is a television series.

Greetings From Tim Buckley (2012)

But I am naive and only am a fan of dad Buckley when he was alive and I was listening.

It is fashionable to tear this kind of film apart. I enjoyed it and felt emotionally involved so at the end I had a nice teary reaction.

So to the critics, I am giving it a 4 out of Netflix5 and go fuck yourselves.

It just pisses me off.

There is a nice video at the NYT review.

Labels: films

First snow of the season on the mountains.

And lots of rain for us down here.

And the temps last night were in the fifties.

Short lived autumn.

Life in the desert.

Of course, today, the temps will get up to the 80s and it will be gorgeous.

The snow up there will probably not last long except in the crevices and cracks of the mountain rocks where there will be snow as late as May next year.

I had to put the heat on for the house this morning and the heater in the Volvo.

Did I mention that, like it or not, the Volvo has heated seats?

It is, after all, made in the land of ice and snow.

Our Saabs had them too.

So, laughingly, I turned them on this morning, noticing in the process that John had evidently turned his on last night.

As predicted by Bob, the Volvo salesman, I was surprised at how nice it was to warm my ass on the way to and from the gym.

I don't wear a jacket there even in the coldest mornings so this is a good sign.

Labels: desert, seasons, Volvo, weather

John got back home from Italy last night.

Booker and I went to pick him up.

We had a nice reunion. I think maybe Booker figured that he would have to deal with only one dad for the rest of his life. He was quite relieved to find this was not true.

I was relieved too.

I had done pretty well until last Friday when I got "aimless". A euphemism, I think, for lonely. Or missing my love. In any case, I just let the feelings roll and sat and read and read and sat and then somehow that phase got over and I was into anticipation and excitement.

The flights were faultless and we picked him up just as expected.

In the new car which he had never seen.

It passed muster. He has it out there now.

We had a short tutorial this morning but there is not that much that is new or unusual and what there is, as in all properly designed devices, is easy to figure out by simple trial and error and intuitive action.

I can't say things are back to normal yet. I made meat loaf today so that it could age into tomorrow and also be enough for six times.

Tonight, without thinking, I set up for American Chop Suey. Pasta. What was I thinking?

Not that he had any of that while he was away.

He seems happy about it.

It is different.

American, after all.

Labels: Booker, food, home, travel, Volvo

Today's film by Michael Gondry has the world in a city bus.

The I and the We (2012)

The last day of school and the kids load up for the last ride home.

There is a lot going on after school and not seeing each other for a few months or forever leads to stuff happening both in reality between them and on line between their "devices".

The world in a small bottled up situation.

The action is hard to figure at first but a patient listener begins to get what is happening between subgroups, individuals and, to an extent in their private selves.

In about ten minutes, I was riding the bus. And I never missed anything, really.

Slowly, a variety of situations arise then pass away as people get off the bus or reach their competion during the ride.

Smaller and smaller, the crowd ends with two people together. Which two? What connections, if any?

There is even a gay couple. Nicely done.

There is a great finish to a busy but very satisfying film. Tough to carry off but he does it.

Gondry has an ear and a taste for understanding then simplifying what is going on with people.

The kids are great and while not everything works out the way they or we would like them to, it does work out. For worriers like me, there is no violence. Bullying, yes. But that gets taken care of nicely.

This is not a big film. It is small and has limited objectives but its heart is huge.

I would gladly see it again. A 4 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I have this "no sequel" rule.Every once in awhile, to my own sorrow, I try to break it or think that somehow the rule is wrong.

Then I am brought up short by something like this film.

Seoul Raiders (2008)

The other thing is that I cannot resist the name Jingle Ma. He is the writer director. Another irresistible is Tony Leung Chiu-Wai, the star of the first Tokyo Raiders (2005) and one of the more watchable Hong Kong stars.

This film was a mistake for all of us. So thin and superficial that it might have floated out of the DVD player.

I quit after about ten minutes.

The music is bad and the female costar is worse.

A 1 out of Netflix5 and a sort of thank you for reminding me why I have this sequel rule in the first place.

Labels: films

Far away from martial arts, these three tragedies are tied together by a concept and their method.

Dolls (2005)

The last Takeshi Kitano film.

The stories arise from the tradition of bunraku, a puppet show that uses traditional characters. There is a singer and a shamisen (lute) player. A group of masked puppeteers manipulate the "dolls" to tell a tragic story.

The film opens with the main story, a tale of two "bound beggars", a man and a woman, who are destined to walk through life bound together with a red rope.

Kitano says, in an interview on the disc, that he saw such a pair many years ago and the image stuck with him. It inspired a story of love denied and love regained.

This he combined with two other stories, one about a yakuza who discovers that the woman he left when he quit his regular job is still waiting for him and the second relating the results of a stalker whose star withdraws from public life. None of these are traditional stories.

They are new stories, the style is old told in traditional bunraku fashion.

As the actual dolls come to life as the film lovers, they cross paths with the other two stories.

All is beautifully done. Gorgeous scenery and lush backgrounds.

In Kitano's usual style there is action punctuated by long intervals of waiting. In his violent films, the break in the quiet is a sharp and stunning act of violence. Here it is a turning point. A surprise. The lulls are in incredibly beautiful places. Cherry blossoms, a river, a temple.

He does not appear in this film. Satisfied to merely write and direct.

I liked it once I got used to the flow and the bunraku formula which matches Kitano's style to a tee.

The stories are in modern dress and about contemporary situations although the bound beggars themselves are period-less and end up in the puppet form with costumes and mannerisms to match. A beautiful transition. Seamless. We end with the same puppets.

I liked it a lot and will give it a 3 out of Netflix5.

And that will do for Takeshi Kitano for this time. Next time back to the classics. He has a ton of them. I have barely scratched the surface in the ten or so that I have already seen.

Labels: films

Booker and I were due for a change of pace so we took the Volvo for its first lengthy spin this morning.

Down to Palm Desert and up the mountainside on 74 to Idyllwild which is tucked into the nearby mountains. Our sky high neighbor. 6000 feet. Higher during the ride.

Part of this is to take the new Volvo through its paces up the serpentine and around the curves going into the rural piney woods.

We went through the town and kept going to a rest stop beyond, then on down the other side of the mountain, Ca 243 to Banning where we joined the 10 and had a chance to open the Volvo up on the high speed road.

The other reason to go, was to see something different and to give Booker the exciting thrill he gets from being up there.

We think maybe he grew up in this kind of place. Pines, mountains. He was born and lived near Reno NV for awhile.

In any case, he gets quite animated and, where possible, I open up the windows so he can hang out and take it all in.

When we got out he would have gladly struck out down the steep hill and into the woods.

We satisfied ourselves with a pee and a walk around at the end of the leash.

Then back into the car and on home.

The locale is great for me too. It so different and so nearby. But this is California where there is some of everything. The mountain views on this road can be breathtaking and the woods are close in and so green! My eye is a desert eye and so the immediate change is fun to take in. I am never quite ready for it even though I have been in woods all my life.

We left at 6 AM just to see the sun rise as we went up the mountain and returned home just before 9AM. It is about a hundred miles all told.

The car is great. It is beefier than the one we had before. Even if it is the same model, it has a more powerful engine and handles very nicely especially on the tight turns at higher speed.

I need to be careful with Booker in the car as too tight and too fast spills him over. Not nice.He does pretty well with a crouch which lets him have the window and lowers his center of gravity. Smart dog. Adaptive.

I am aware of the improved gas milage of the 2104. We didn't move the needle all that much. Well, no needle. The dash controls are all digital now. Nice. A little harder to read because everything is in a different place than before.

Labels: Booker, driving, Volvo

Today's change of pace film is a total collapse.

Takeshi Kitano, the tough guy film hero is out of his element here.

Kikojiro (2000)

And so was I.

I think the intent is to take the hard boiled character that Kitano plays in most of his films and put him with a small kid for a day of baby sitting is meant to show a collapse in the tough guy personna when faced with a smart ass kid.

The collapse is total as most of the comedy, broad to overboard, is tough to take most of the time. Slapstick with a serious demeanor doesn't take. Or maybe it is Japanese humor lost in translation.

I did a lot of FF on this hoping some redemption would occur. No luck.

That makes it a 2 out of Netflix5. It would be as weird to see a comic trying to be a serious samurai or tough guy villain.

It has been awhile since I saw a stinker so I was due for one. This is it.

Labels: films

Today's Takeshi Kitano movie takes every convention, some would say cliché, of a samurai film and turns it on its head.

Zatôichi / The Blind Swordsman: Zatoichi

The idea of the blind swordsman itself is a convention/cliché. Even Jacky Chan has done one of these.

But Kitano begins with a conflict. We like and admire the first samurai very much until we discover that he is going to sell himself out to a local gang leader and become his bodyguard/enforcer. Not good.

Along comes a blind masseur (Kitano) who takes up residence with a widow in the outskirts of the town.

We learn, early on, that the blind guy is actually a samurai himself as he dispatches some bad guys on the way to the village.

It is inevitable that the two samurai will take up against each other. The bodyguard is only doing it because his wife is sick so we kinda sorta stay in sympathy with him and it is only toward the end that he earns our enmity.

Just about every convention is checked off here. After you have seen a few of these films they become an enjoyable experience brought to pleasure partly by their very predictability. "What" and "who" turn into "how will they do it this time". It is like the classic western in that respect.

Kitano finds new wrinkles all along the way including a drag queen sister, a couple of geezers who are more than they seem and an unfolding realization of who the real gang leaders are.

A delightful feature is the use of music and rhythm to underline the action. In the very beginning farmers dig in the fields. You realize that they are beginning to do it in unison and then in a syncopated rhythm. The sound track follows them.

Percussion is used throughout to this happy effect.

The grand finale involves village danceing which turns into a spectacular dance number involving all the cast in a sort of curtain call. Everyone except the villains. It is a big cast.

This is a 5 out of Netflix5 and should be seen by any martial arts/samurai film fan.

Yes. Kitano is even blond. This could be taken as grey hair but it is not. It is platinum peroxide blond. A blatant example of literally turning it on its head!

Labels: films

Booker found a ball on our morning walk today.

Not too unusual that but we were in the dark and staying local, just walking around the big big block.

We were not near the tennis club across the street where he gets most of them.

But there are some tennis courts in the development and I suppose that someone hit the ball out. It had made it all the way up to the lawn/curb.

I was surprised when he found it because it is not a usual occurrence here. Tennis club yes yes. Local courts no. I suppose that people here pick the balls up. They are only just near home. Or something.

So, we were walking with the ball. I was, at first, a little suspicious in that I had not seen the pickup and sometimes there is a bone opportunity along the curb where the trash cans go.

No. It was a ball. Tennis I think. But I was not going to get a view of it. Booker holds the found balls and even the ones at home very close.

We walked and got close to the turn to our house when he demurred and kept on walking. I tried to get him to head home but no soap. We do not argue with this kind of airedale logic. And stubbornness. It would only add two minutes to walk to the real street end.

But he turned. He went to a flower bed against the wall and started digging!

Something new here. Was he burying the ball?

I said "no". My default response to anything new, doggie or otherwise. He backed off and we went on our way to the house.

But about half way down, he headed for another flower bed.

Booker went in and dug a small hole in the leaves and even in the dirt. I let it go.

He pawed it up pretty good. I couldn't see the details but I know there was some dirt and debris flying.

He put the ball into his hole and covered it.

I was stunned.

He has never, in our life with him, done this before.

Somewhere inside, the genes were talking to him.

He buried it totally.

I let it go.

No flowers were hurt during the burying of this ball, I think.

Now. Will he remember? Will he go back and find it? We will have to wait his doggie nature to reassert itself.

Airedales are naturally diggers, terriers. They like digging just for the digging. We have never encouraged it and, frankly, that has been easy because the desert floor does not make it a cinch for a pup to get a hole going. Hard packed, pebbles.

Flower beds are another matter and he knows he is not to even go in them although he has demonstrated, on occasion, that he can walk through one and not touch or trample a single bud or branch.

I have never seen a burying ever before with Booker or with first dog Franklin. Neither have been compulsive diggers anyway.

The occasional dig to make a dirt bed, notwithstanding.

So we can domesticate all we want.

When the chips are down and you feel the urge to bury your trophy, nature will out.

You can fight it but the primitive dog will still make a strong bid for its will.

To say nothing of the Airedales self adopted will.

Nature and nurture working together. If he had not been persistent I would not have seen this happen.

A good lesson, particularly with an airedale. Stick around, let it happen. You might get an entertaining surprise.

Labels: Booker

John has been gone for ten days and today it became too long a time.

I lasted quite a while though.

I found myself with a lot of time on my hands, a little copeless.

I made some phone calls and talked about it but that wasn't "it".

Booker and I are doing well. I am enjoying not having to cook although I miss doing something I like to do. I have been busy with the new car and all. Retaining a new cleaner for the house.

Phone calls have been intentionally sparse. I know he is OK and that he is in Venice. What else need I know?

He will be back in town Tuesday night.

We will resume. The I will be augmented by the we.

Labels: life

I just finished reading a great new gay book.

Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan

This is based on a real life event in which two young gay men determined to break the Guiness Record for long time kissing.

If you think this trivial, think again. I followed the real guys for awhile. This book takes it quite a bit further and places it in the context of gay history. A chorus of commentary from those older men gave their lives to HIV describes the changes in gay history as they also tell five other stories of young gay men having the spectrum of young gay experiences today.

Genius. Touching. Very very nice.

Sex is almost besides the point as a kiss of this duration is really an athletic event of some magnitude and only two people who are or have been in love could commit to do it.

The other stories which move in and out include a young couple who are just finding themselves and end up at the kissing as spectators but also one kid who cannot find his way and tries to be ultimately alone.

Levithan is quite a successful author and has the experience to weave an extraordinary tale out of what could have been a bit of fluff or something unseemly.

Anti gay hate is encountered in some of the stories. Others are of the new age variety. Supportiv parents and friends. Happy times together.

If this would be a movie it would be a five.

Labels: books

Time for a bunch of Takeshi (Beat) Kitano movies.Tender to tough.

Tough and tougher today

Brother (2000)

They either love or hate this guy.

I am in the fan club.

He makes a film not a movie. While the genré is intact, there is an artistic bent to them, small touches which make them quite enjoyable.

In this film a Yakeza big boss gets squeezed out of his territory and flees to LA where he takes up with his brother who is running a small time gang dealing dope.

He inspires the small gang to expand and shows them how. They get very big.

Then they take on the mafia and get very small again.

There are a lot of severed little fingers, a decapitation and more but I don't want you to get this film and be shocked at the violence. Take heed.

Me? I like the guy's style. He is wonderful in the lead role. His nickname is from the time he was part of a comedy team. Funny how that turned out.

This could be viewed as a martial arts film but there is no martial and very little art to it. These are tough guys taking on the tougher and pulling it off.

A definite 4 as I would gladly see it again.

Labels: films

Controversy rages over the spelling of deserts/desserts. I will take either.

In any case, there is a lot of evil in today's movie. And the villain get his in the end. Actually somewhere else where all the nasty action has been.

Enough evil in this film to go around for a long time for me. But I wanted to see it anyway.

Dominic Cooper is superb in the double role of Uday Hussein, the bad son of Saddam and as the man who is coerced into being Uday's double.

The Devil's Double (2011)

This is not a great movie. I am not sure if it is even a good one. The material, so violent, transcends the usual values around it as a film.

That is not to say that it is so violent it is repulsive.

Somehow through Cooper's magic they are able to convey the evil with a considerable amount of suspense and just the right amount of distance.

We know that Latif, the double, will survive the experience because he is telling the story. He wrote the book from which the film is made.

We also know that Uday is going to get his and, at least, in this film, there is a considerable payback for this criminally insane creature.

I would not want to see this film again but I am glad that I did. Cooper is quite fantastic with or without the feat of performing two people. They look the same but they are worlds apart in every respect.

Bravura. A stunt, more or less, but one that is well worth seeing done so well and also worth the price of swimming in a bit of filth for awhile.

A 3 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I just finished reading Mark Merlis first novel, Man About Town.

Merlis is a retired national expert on health care matters with great experience in navigating the shoals of the federal bureaucracy.

He puts this personal experience to good use in this story about a legislative aid, a health care expert, who navigates the choppy waters of non-partisan advice to congresspeople.

At the same time, the aid, is undergoing a lot of stress in his personal life.

A middle aged man, his partner has just left him and he must deal with the cozy non-work environment which he has built for himself. A little closet.

As he adapts to this change in his personal situation, we learn about gay life in the time that this is taking place. The eighties. Which is not that far from gay life today. The bar scene, the pickup scene, the ads, the life.

He has a drinking problem and, it seems, a coming out problem, never having really completed the process. Now alone, it is up to him to find a new and happy life.

There are a lot of themes here deftly balanced. Middle age for some gay men is an early death. We get to see a resuscitation. Oddly, with a young man who likes older gay men. A suspicious trait as it often is a trap for the older man to take on the parenthood of the younger man. In this case, the younger man is black.

We see all of this through the bureaucrat's eyes. His self hatred still needs to expunged. He must and does look at the origins of his superficial bar life before and after the big relationship that left him.

We get a glimpse of the fifties. A time that kids used things like Sear's underwear ads and those little inserts for special bathing trunks as a way to glimpse other men.

I really liked this novel. I saved it because I had read all the others by Merlis and they are sort of grow out of this one although they cover quite different eras (in one case, Greek mythology in modern gay language) and all are fun and instructive. Not always happy but always insightful and enjoyable reading.

Labels: books

A straight man gains some more perspective on how gays deal with hetero-religious bullshit.

Very touching. Filled with love. A great brother, I would say. It is viral with "the gays".

Labels: gay families, homophobia

Today's film is a gay theme with serious issues at hand and none of the usual fluff.

The Stranger In Us (2010)

The issue is spousal abuse and the dance that two people go through, the abuser, the victim, somehow jointly culpable together.

Fight, make up, fight again with escalation and way too much appeasement and forgiveness.

A gay man moves from rural Virginia to San Francisco to be with his boyfriend/lover. Living together for the first time it becomes clear that the SFO one wants a boy at home that he can order around and kick around when the boy rebels.

But the boy is in love and gets not one bit of reinforcement for his dependency in the San Francisco gay scene.

Finally, a hustler, with whom he forms a serious but non-sexual relationship helps him detach and stay detached.

Along the way we all find out that the "gay heaven" of the gayest city in the world can be pretty unhappy, unfriendly and unsupportive.

This is not your usual gay film. Not a lot of sweetness and light here. The other people that are dated are grim. A delicate matter as stereotypes could be a problem here. This film avoids those pitfalls.

The relationships that do work are the human ones. The hustler, a straight woman with a great drag look, a woman who looks like a drag queen. I have met some of these. Special.

There are the conventional gentlemen who are so boring and conventional. The quick trick artists. A cavalcade of experience. I have met one of every one of them.

The time warp is used here back and forth. The through line shows the boy getting on a bus and riding and remembering. I assumed he was leaving the city and going back to where he came from.

Surprise endings here (we are supplied with two) help show that the boy has grown into a man and is happy with himself and the world around him.

I do not think this is a spoiler because without the feeling that he was OK while all this happened to him and better at the end helps us endure the pain that he has to go through.

There are no punches pulled here. People get, well, punched.

I really really liked this film. It has heart and what is more, a main character who has the stuff.

A 5 out of Netflix5. I ordered it for our small collection of great DVDs.

Labels: films, gay films

But then so is the GOP and the Teas' behavior. It is the same thing now.

I presume this is legit.

I would say that they aren't winning much with their games. Assholes. So, turds works for me.

I read today that Boehner is considering becoming a bipartisan speaker which means he would go to the Democratic caucus and seek support for a different regime.

We live in interesting times.

Labels: republican whack jobs

All critics have their "best" list and Roger Ebert was no exception.

But Ebert went beyond criticism. He was a connoisseur of fine films.

He has a list of 300 from which I got the suggestion to watch 25 Hours.

Ebert's list is a live list. It is kept up on his blog and includes the suggestions of other fans of Ebert. Not by vote but by nomination and then, who knows how the selection process proceeds.

In the past I have had a lot of fun with lists.

I did the 1746 Best Films of the NYTimes (they had two lists of 1500 and there was some non-overlap). It took three years.

I did the 100 best gay films of the site Queerty.

That took less time.

So I am going to do the Ebert list. I will not see any film that I have already seen unless I want to.

I will still intersperse other notable films that I have put in my queue so the viewing will be spread out a lot over time.

If you want to check Ebert's list out, here it is.

I have used Ebert's reviews a lot and I frequently agree with him. I am always instructed by them.

I do disagree from time to time. For example, Ebert just does not get or like any film with a gay content. I don't take this personally. He is a traditional guy.

But I don't agree with the NYTimes who I use most often. They don't get gay films either or like them and they have a lot of gay people around the office if not doing the reviews.

Labels: Ebert films, films

With only 24 hours to go before he heads for a seven year stretch in prison, a guy has a series of last day experiences with people closest to him and they have a few intense experiences of their own.

Spike Lee's masterpiece

25 Hours (2002)

with Edward Norton, Bryan Cox, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Rosario Dawson, Anna Paquin and Barry Pepper.

Various thugs both federal and underworld accompany this group of people.

This film has some of everything. Even a dog.

It is post 911 in New York, just.

It has best friends, hot lovers, great dad and son stuff.

Encyclopedic.

The acting here is superb. We must also include New York City in the cast. It plays a crucial role. The photography is stunning including some aerial scenes of ground zero, combing through the wreckage as does our hero who is going to pay big for his crimes. I don't think the metaphor gets stretched too far. Lee is careful and respectful.

I put this at a definite 5 out of Netflix5 which means that I will see it again. Every scene is worth watching.

Spoiler: I was worried about the dog but I need not have. He has a crucial role as well. A good guy who is well taken care of.

A note. I got tired of putting inaccurate trailers of films I like in the blog. I am done with it. Go find your own trailers but better yet go see the film.

Labels: Ebert films, films

As promised, the city is resurfacing Baristo Road this week.

That is the street that runs east and west just on the other side of the hedges behind our condo.

They have been working in our neighborhood all month and I was sure that it was only a matter of time until the dirty, broken, guttered street that we abut would be redone too.

Right now, I can see the machine that is used to chew up the old surface, about three inches deep. It is going by the back at quite surprising speed eating a few feet of pavement as it goes.

Soon, the whole surface will be completely new and Booker will get to walk on a renewed road surface.

I mention him because when we leave the sidewalk on our side, there is long patch of open desert and he insists on walking on the road. He does not think that he should go across the street and walk on the sidewalk there. This is our goddam side and he will walk on it.

Nor will he walk on the desert. Pebbly and nasty, he disdains it.

And yet he will walk on the extremely rough street surface where perhaps decades of tar have eroded out leaving a surface that I would never consider for my bare feet.

It has gotten so bad that for certain lengths he will only walk very slowly. Nearly stopping. Picking his way along for maybe a hundred yards.

Airedales are stubborn.

If he could, he would be one of those shrill bastards who go to City Council meetings and demands action. He would have written letters to the editors of the Desert Sun.

Fortunately I have a neighbor who does this and while he is not even as close to Baristo as we are, he has almost single handedly formed a neighborhood association (The Baristo Neighborhood) and has hounded the City into action.

Of course, it has been bad traveling. One of our autos might have fallen into a pothole.

Now, not so bad. The new surfaces are quite remarkably smooth.

Booker will have a soft place to walk and our neighbor will be able to point to another achievement of good gad fly ism.

Labels: neighborhood