esrosedotblog

In a few days, I will have been doing this blog for ten (10) round years. It has been a lot of fun. When I started, blogs were a bigger thing than they are now. So I jumped into the pool. Once I got started, I found that I liked it both as a way to stay in touch with friends and family but also as a kind of journal for myself. I had a fairly large readership at that time and put the blog address on all my emails so I picked up a lot of readers that way. I also found that a lot of people were reading the posts who had googled themselves there or when the blog had showed up on their radars somehow.

Over time, as it turns out, blogs in general have given way to other media. The dread FaceBook that I will not join, Tweets which sort of interest me but not enough to stay in touch with them and whatever else comes down the pike that include photos, video and so on. Technology has passed the blogger on the road to communication and we are eating the dust.

Hardly anyone reads the blog today. Most, not all, family and just a few friends. I find that I have to write the current events of my life in emails and phone calls which are aimed to the specific people who I stay in touch with and they with me. Outside the blog. Better in a way because these are tailored and, while not as frequent, more meaningful connections than the blog has been. Although I have felt the connection with an audience as I have written, pictured some people reading.

This has never been a comment laden blog. But it has been months since there was even one of any kind. Even a return rant. The guy who kept answering the same post I wrote over five years ago about the con-letters from Africa hasn't been irate now for over a year.

Recently I reduced the size and scope in an experimental way. Not satisfying. One says he misses the blog. Others say no comment. Me? It is not the same.

I note that in the last month or so, we rounded a corner of another kind. Not just the tenth (10th) year of the blog but also the 10,000th post. That is a lot of writing. I get tired just looking at the number but also a little proud I kept with it so long.

There are still the archives. I will not be dumping those although I suspect that Blogger will catch up somehow and one day tell me that a new layout or agreement means the end of those. But in the meantime, it is all still in the cloud or wherever they keep this stuff. I, personally, don't plan to dig in and look at them but you never know.

If you have hung in this long, thanks. It has been fun. I already miss you. The "you" I visualized while writing. A bit. But not too much. Send me an email. I will write back. To you, not to the masses. That is it. I am out of here.

Cheers!

Labels: blog, blogging

Some Broadway productions should never be brought to Hollywood. Today's Bob Fosse film was a great vehicle for Gwen Verdon, the ferociously talented dancer who made it her life's triumph. But this disastrously overblown film version depends on the talents of Shirley MacLain which are just not big enough to sustain it. Overly long, tedious musical numbers, too much New York City scenery, weak acting and, worse, dancing, simply sink the film to a 2 out of Netflix5. Did I name the film? It was Sweet Charity (1969). They wouldn't take Verdon, no marquee sparkle. It would have been better to leave it alone. Overcompensating from the beginning with a weak star, Fosse creates a monster movie with no redeeming musical value at all. Hardly a glimmer of what made it a stage success. Talent. Too bad. Lots of FF.

We had a lot of rain today for us. And we were happy to have it. It washes the dust off and delays watering for awhile. Besides that, it has been cold. Not cold-cold that we were running away from but the kind that has desert rats run for the fleece jackets and, in the morning at least, wear the jeans.

Labels: films, weather

We have weather! Cloudy and cool. No prospects for sun for a few days. John just told someone it is like New England. This is fine with me. I like the change and I like the coolness. I am ready for "winter" in that I have two new sweaters and two new pairs of long pants. Corduroy. I haven't had corduroy for years. I typed "corduroy" three times now because I have a spelling disability. I want there to be more "u's". Courdorouy. No.

Gap 69's 32 inch waist and 30 inch leg.

Movie today is the ever wonderful, almost perfect Bob Fosse production. Cabaret (1972) Lisa Minnelli and Joel Grey. Michael York. It just keeps on giving. Saw stuff today I have missed before.

Labels: films, weather

No movie today. The disc came out of the envelope cracked. Later.

The Methodist preacher who married his gay son is found guilty of "sins". He thinks that he will be defrocked. I am not sure what the sins were but it is a sin that this kind of shit still goes on in any religious denomination. I was brought up as a Methodist and I am ashamed of them on a regular basis. They turned right several decades ago and have never come back. I have to admit I have never been "religious" so growing up as a Methodist is a little like being born in a particular town or some other involuntary event. On the other hand, you can't grow up around it without absorbing some of the stuff. Mostly the social stuff. A lot of disapproving old ladies is what I mostly remember. The theology was pretty thin, hard to figure out. I played piano then organ so I was recruited to participate at that level but I pretty much did the job and didn't pay much attention to the message. Maybe I really wasn't listening because I thought that their technical beliefs (as opposed to what everyone practiced) were fairly liberated. I guess I have that confused with some rather liberal pastors I ran into later on in life. Hard to fathom. But then I am biased. The preacher has four kids all gay. So I guess there will be end of him marrying them. They must have done it to cut him off from the pass. Or something. Bastards. I am reduced to name calling it is so preposterous.

Labels: religion

Doctor this morning for the annual checkup. I am clear on the urological stuff and still have to have the kidney function test to see if I am done with the nephrologist. If not, back to her. All in all I am declared a healthy specimen. Good news. Lab tests Thursday, results early next week. Keep on keeping on.

Fosse today was the great, wonderful satire of the American workplace. And as apt as it was 50 years ago. As far as I can tell. How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (1957) with Bobby Morse as the window washer who succeeds. He actually tries a lot. I have seen the film once. It was good to revisit and have a good singalong.

Labels: films, health

Bob Fosse appears again in today's film which he choreographed. Damn Yankees (1958). He does a special number with Gwen Verdon who steals the picture although Tab Hunter and Ray Walston come in very close. It is a great musical, complete, filled with great songs, a good story. I saw this one when my friend Jean Stapleton was in it, in Boston, and she took me backstage where I visited all and sundry. It was a thrill. Hard to separate from the experience of watching the show, at the time, but now I know the show was great too. I have seen this film more than a few times. The starring role taken by Stephen Douglas in the Broadway version is played by Tab Hunter in the film. They always need a star. He is pretty good, actually. Can sing better than he can dance but he covers well. Never mind. It more than qualifies as a 5 out of Netflix5.

Labels: films

I went to a "gay wedding" this morning. Before too long, we can quit making the distinction. But for now, it is new enough that we can savor the words as they trip off the tongue. Adrian and Ted. We met at their home at 11AM and they had the ceremony bang on time. Then a small reception. Nice appetizers and some champagne for those who do that sort of thing. It was very nice.

I got home in time to see one of the best Fosse musicals. The Pajama Game (1957). This one almost straight off the stage except that Doris Day is the female lead. All the rest are from the show. John Raitt, Eddy Foy Jr., Carol Haney and the others. A pajama factory has a labor crisis. The workers want 71/2 cents raise. The foreman and the grievance committee head fall in love. Fun. A lot of musical numbers and everything is wonderful in this one. Songs, dance, plot and the story rip along full blast. A 5 out of Netflix5. Fosse's dances are exuberantly presented and everyone has a good time.

Labels: films, gay marriage, gay wedding

I am nearly finished with the recent biography of the choreographer and director Bob Fosse, simply named Fosse. He was a fascinating and driven man who provided at least the dancing part of some of the best Broadway shows in the 50s through 70s. A golden era for musical comedies. I cannot resurrect the shows (all of which I saw) but I can see the films he also made of the same shows. Films are never as good as the live version but, in this case, close. Today's film was Fosse's first which he choreographed and had a leading part. The only role he played in any film he made. A rare occasion. My Sister Eileen (1955) had not been a live show but there had been several versions done before. This one is not the most memorable. The songs are weak but the dancing is great. Janet Leigh, Betty Garrett, Jack Lemon, Tommy Rall, Dick York all join Fosse in some great numbers. The film comes alive when these people are dancing. Betty Garrett was a favorite of mine so it is fun to see her here at her best. Fosse's work in the film is immediately recognizable. He was one of the last song and dance men and he brought with him a tradition of singing and dancing right out of the music halls, the strip joints and the last days of vaudeville. Great moves. All the body. Hands, arms, attitude. There is a signature hat routine that he does with Rall as both men tap their challenge dance with the wildest energy. This is a good not great movie well worth seeing for basic Fosse and some delightful dancing. You will not remember even one song from it. All those are in the first version with Rosalind Russell and the second which was named On the Town. Same story. Different takes. A 3 out of Netflix5 as a film, 5 for the dancing. I forget how much pleasure came from these musicals. They are all around on disc.

Labels: books, dancing, films

As I recall, you were either a fan of The Band or you were not. Dylan's house band had a short career but for many of us, they were special. A new sound. A kind of innocence in the middle of rock dissipation. But then they joined the crowd, got drunk, drugged and ego tainted and that was the end. In good times and bad they lasted 5 years and not much of those were good ones. Two great albums, one not so much. Levon Helm was the drummer and one of the voices, the one most recognizable, their signature. He went his own way and the newish film Ain't in it for My Health (2010) celebrates his later life. He was outlived by his nemesis Robbie Robertson, the member who made all the money from lyric royalties and didn't share. In Helm's version it was a cooperative thing which was not honored. A little bitterness there. Helm was battling cancer of the throat at the time of the film and he died before the film came out. The DVD was delayed until afterward so it just came out in 2012. It is an honest documentary with enough of the good singing times shown and the cantankerous old man Helm had become. I enjoyed it but it was a bit sad and pushed a bit on making him important in ways he might not have been. But it is a fitting memorial and not a bad way to be remembered. A 3 out of Netflix5. Maybe I liked him best because he was the best looking. A sexy dude with an impish smile.

I told a neighbor today that I had put my name in for the HOA board and he said he was thinking of doing the same.A letter said this week that no one had been nominated either by others or even themselves. Both of us felt guilt pangs which turned into interest which turned into enthusiasm. It is just something I had not considered before since I didn't think we had lived here long enough. There is an argument that new people would have a useful perspective but that doesn't convince me. A new person would not understand some important history all the way from the current cash crunch that is going on (they neglected the reserve fund) or the problem of personality clashes that dominated when we first got here. One thing he said was interesting. Apparently none of the incumbents have nominated themselves or are running. That is why there is a problem. No nominees at all. I had just assumed that everyone would be up for re-election. My friend figured that meant we would be a shoo in if we stood for the position, hence his serious thinking about it. He figured if he signed up, like me, he was in. I was surprised to hear this. I have to admit I don't quite understand the process but I do understand that if people don't want to be continued that is it. In the past everyone wanted to stay in office. The present board members must stay until nominees are found or, if one of them resigns out of the box, then the board will appoint someone. Since they said they had not been able to find any volunteers, up to now, that would mean skipping the election, a tedious process I would not mind avoiding. They would simply appoint the new prospect. We shall see. Actually, I have already written my campaign letter so I am good any way it goes. I like the neighbor I talked to. I would enjoy serving with him. It would mean that I know him better than the old people who I do not really know well at all. We laughed about being the "reform slate" together but there is no opposition from the incumbents. That puts the anti-approach down even if I was inclined to use it which I am not. I am just another condo owner. Yup.

Labels: condo, films, HOA

Piracy is the theme of today's movie. Not in the Burt Lancaster swords and sash sense but in the modern Somali piracy of a freighter. A Highjacking (2012) beats the arrival of the Tom Hanks highjacking film which will be more boring just because Hanks is in it. This one is Danish and shows the situation, unbelievably long weeks and months as it evolves on sea with the sailors and on land with the shipping company. The tension in both places is extraordinary. The Somali's are skilled at playing on the psychology of the live hostages and the shipping executive, the ship and the cargo are secondary. Fear is used. Impatience. Emotionality. They are quite skillful in the cat and mouse game. The pirates more than the suits in that the suits need a consultant and their cold blood is easily roiled when they lose the negotiation upper hand. The pirates are fucking crazy but crazy like a fox. The acting is great. The filming, almost documentary style is deeply involving. They filmed in the offices of a shipping company and on an actual ship. An easy 4 out of Netflix5. I would gladly watch it again. It does no harm, I am sure, to know how it turns out. It is just plain terrifying.

I sent off my 50 word bio today for the HOA board election. Then, when I got home from the gym, I typed out a longer one page bio with my picture. It flowed. So, I am ready for it. I am not sure of the process exactly. I think that people vote by secret ballot and the ballots are opened at a formal meeting of the entire association. They have missed the deadline for nominations for the December meeting. One consequence already. I will be going to observe the Board meeting on November 14 and also the non-election meeting of the entire association mid December. One demerit for me is that I have never attended one of these. It might be good to show up and be seen and to see what happens. I have some fear of not winning. But I have been in elections before in my past life. Won a few and lost one. And those were a lot bigger than this. An entire town and town meeting. So. Quiet now. The next step will be to get the addresses of the people and mail out the one pagers in time for the voting.

Labels: condo, films, HOA

Today's movie was a potboiler about private cops and corporate malfeasance mixed with e-terrorists. The East (2013) is the eco-terrorism group and the film makes the relentless point that neither the corporate villains or the eco-guys are very nice. It is all self interest and shit. The movie is hard to believe which, as a starter, makes it difficult to take the issues seriously. They are serious. But the idea of a corporate cop working undercover comes to believe the cultish stuff that runs the group while falling in love with the mastermind guru is too great a stretch. I skipped FF and so it is a 2 out of Netflix5.

So I am submitting my application for the Board of our HOA (Home Owners Association). Three seats are up for re-election and they had no applications. They were unable to recruit anyone. So, I will stand. I have to be elected and, goddamit, I suppose I will have to go to some meetings, at least the December 14 annual meeting. For some reason, I can't think of any reason not to apply or nominate myself and several reasons to do it. For one, I would make a real calm head on a drama ridden board although things have quieted down some in recent years. Here is the text. I had 50 words max. MIT graduate, developer of management training programs, founder of an international consulting company. Retired Palm Springs 1997. Full time resident Rose Garden 3 years. Observer, admirer and critic of HOA management willing to devote time and energy in service to the community. No axes to grind.. I would vote for me!

Labels: condo, films

I am not much for watching humans in space helmets going about their space business, but this is some whopper of a movie. I think that all the clichés are avoided or, if not, then revitalized in the exciting, riveting, extraordinary Europa Report (2013). A lost mission is "found" through the records, the "report", they make of their trip to one of the moons of Jupiter. Europa. There is a space ship, there are helmets, there is excitement and there is the certainty that they won't make it. We know this from the beginning. This does not lessen the suspense and the impact of the surprises that the crew will uncover. We see the report, a collection of videos made by the crew and online monitors and radio broadcasts. I just adored this. I was wrung dry. It is a definite 4 and maybe a 5 out of Netflix5. Why is it that movies of this caliber do not make it somehow? A puzzle. Oh. The documentation at the end by NASA and other space experts is so extensive that they are working with the real deal here. Who needs gimmicks?

Labels: films

My heart is with the veterans today. There will be a parade here today. There are a lot of older people in PS for whom the day still counts. I will have a few silent moments. My Dad was a Navy guy in WWII and had a lot of intense stuff he dreamt and thought about for years after. He gave a lot. I am grateful for his part. Me? I was in ROTC so I could avoid the draft. I did a 6 month service after summer camp between the Soph and Junior years and then was to go to weekly meetings for 6 years which I got out of because my advisor and I hit it off. I did go to two week summer assignments on my own. Cushy. When I was on active duty, I was just newly married and our first kid was born on the Army. My job was the Asst Club Officer at the Fort Lee Officer's Club. More cush. I never had dreams about the horrors of my service.

A dose of "the bard" today which I can only take a little of. And this came somewhat palatably in the form of Joss Wheedon's Much Ado About Nothing (2012). In black and white, modernized and still in the stilted Elizabethan language which always takes me half the play to get the drift of. I tried subtitles but they are very annoying. Big blocky letters which didn't really help me. So I succumbed to the standard advice and just sank myself into it and went along. It is sort of obvious what is happening, at least in a general way. But since the play is about confusion it is still not all that clear. I would not watch it again. I didn't FF, I tried hard although I did need a break in the middle. A 3 out of Netflix5 for the production and a 2 for me as I am just basically against it all. This is the 21st Century in the USA. A Luddite. Well, no. Luddites would like it. Just an unrepentant peasant. Yes I know he wrote for the lower classes. Sort of.

Labels: films, holidays, military

I cleaned the fountain this morning. It is not a big job but it always seems that it will be. A lot of jobs are like that. More difficult on the run up than in the execution. I try to remember. The thing is to get it really clean and not take half way measures. Siphon out the water, clean out the mold, dose it some with bleach, be sure to clean out the interior before the water goes back in. Blah blah. Nothing to it.

Today's film was about a trans gender man.. Xavier Dolan's Laurence Anyways (2012). Well, the process he goes through from his first baby steps to full identity. Mostly it is about the main relationships in his life with women. One especially, his lover and friend, who bears much of the burden of the film and story. The guy/gal is Melville Paupoud and the woman Suzanne Clement. They are superb separately and together. His mother, Nathalie Baye, plays a crucial role as a distant presence until it counts. I wanted to see the film because it is written and directed by Dolan who has done so much good work. A gay Quebecois, he is compiling a list of great movies. Super. A 5 out of Netflix5. I will buy it in support of Dolan and I might even watch it a few more times. While it is not at all "gay" as transgender people are not gay (hence the romance between the two principles) they are often lumped in with us in the literature, the news and even the parades. It used to bother me. Now not so much and the film really helped me over some hurdles with my own phobic attitudes. Always something to work on.

I have been buying Threadless T-shirts. T-shirts with ironic or humorous cartoons, sometimes just plain art. I can't stop. But I will have to pretty soon because I only have a limited space. I have been folding them but then I have to put them on a hangar and "mist-press" them before I let them sit overnight. You know. Spritz them, smooth them out, let 'em hang. Today, I put them on hangars. I had to scout out enough. Just enough. Of the wire ones. I do not want any other hangar. No plastic. I found space by passing my corduroy shirts on to someone else, the second hand store. I haven't worn them in a long time and so that is the cue to put them out for a new home. Rescues. Here is the art from one of the t-shirts. The Communist Party.

Labels: clothing, condo, films

A day off today, at the gym. That is my weekend. Otherwise it is pretty much like another day. Sunday is no mail and we have a weekly threesome walk wherever Booker wants to go. With a little coaching here and there. No mail. That is my complete weekend.

Interview with an MIT candidate today. Interesting people. Young woman who came to USA in 6th grade, no English. She caught on pretty quick. Has no accent. She is a karate teacher. Black belt. And captain of the local karate team. Teaches groups, mostly kids, but really anyone with a lower belt than she has. I am meeting a lot of kids who do not do school activities much but have outside pursuits. The other day, a big brother for two nine year old boys. That kind of thing.

No movie today. No time. Early to bed I think.

Labels: MIT

So, on a day I was not going to do anything, I went to Lowes and bought a bunch of medium size cactus for our desert section. It has been fallow for awhile but when they painted, I took one of my small plants that had overgrown itself, the second such, and planted it in the empty space on the north courtyard side. Then the whole thing looked a lot lonelier. And with the new paint job, I was inspired to go get a dozen decorative cactus and put them into the spot. They look great. They complete the picture. One of the painters said that, often, they will paint the outside of the house and the owner decides to redecorate the inside too. I just got the cacti. One plant, not a cactus, is a purple sage for the corner. I still mourn the big purple sage they took out when they went desert next door. The plant was between our houses. And, the awful truth is, that the sage is a desert plant. As any listener to cowboy songs will know.

Today's film was the new, pre-print, of Marco Berger's Hawaii 2013. Berger is the master of sexual yearning. Put two presumably gay guys in proximity and watch what happens. Yogi Berra: "You can see a whole lot while watching". Long silent expanses, great photography, music. This one is as good as his other award winning Plan B. I am already anxious to see it again.

The Times says the liberals think the White House should be in more of a panic mode about ACA. They still don't get Obama. No drama. This is instead of support and fighting off the sharks. Oh, I despair of my nominal party. If I could start my own I would. Such assholes. I get more angry at them than the teas sometimes.

Labels: condo, film, garden, obama, professional left

Yesterday was a more than full day. It began with shopping, an unusual step as I didn't shop Tuesday because I went to an extra Meeting and…….so on. Then, the guys were all over the outside of the condo, full force, finishing the trim and cleaning up. They are meticulous. A demonstration of why I do not paint. All the prep. All the careful use of tools, brush, roller, spray. All the attention to detail. There are two colors, stucco tan and trim more of a chocolate and it is amazing how many places the two colors meet. Mindfulness. The other thing about these guys is that they are not only pros at their work they are attentive to the owners in a way that I don't think is required of the work or the contract. They are happy to accept certain quirks like working around my immovable monster cactus or carefully painting over the plaques behind the fountain (which we did not put there) and being careful to not break anything. I was amazed at how much we have out there, plants, sculptures and so on. All in the way if you are going to do a good job painting. If we didn't trim enough of put a table far away from the work they seemed happy to accommodate and do it themselves. They always volunteered their schedule. Working on the tan stucco the would say when they would be back for the trim, then the garage doors. A surprise, they had to go on the roof to do some work. Booker freaked out. Thunder! We got through that OK but it took a while. The facts and even showing him what was happening didn't overcome the anxiety of unwanted thumping.

The timing of it all was impeccable. And accidental. Universal karmic flow. They got done with the front courtyard in time for me to put back my cactus tables, rearrange the cactus, repot a couple plants that had outgrown their home, plant one that was now unportable always getting knocked over. I was able to get it all in place before the house cleaners came and, voila, just at that time, the guys were done in the back and I was able to place the table and chairs as they should be, with a few tweaks here and there, in time for the cleaners to do the chairs and the deck front and back. Nice timing.

The new house cleaners are doing a great job. There is a different arrangement than we are used to over the years. One man in charge, it is his business, and three other people, one man, two women. They go to work in concert. Some days they have been all four at one time, one gets there early for the rough stuff, one stays late to do the last step mopping and the four here for the middle. It only takes two hours. They do have a routine but I am asked to have some specific chores to fill in. Amazing that I have found something for every bi-weekly visit. Is bi-weekly the same as every other week? I have had them clean the garage floor, sweep and scrub. Another time we have the glass to do. Yesterday was the post painting cleanup and a rug shampoo. He has a big commercial machine that gets down into it and really does a thorough job. Next time, I need the air vents cleaned out. Yesterday it was two men. Period. There is a difference in the qualities of the cleaning, male and female. The women are meticulous, clean every can and bottle in the refrigerator for example. The men, not so much but they do the heavier duty jobs which women will not. There are some sloppy spots to the men's work. A very shiny wood table, nicely done, with a few sticky spots that didn't get cleaned off before the polish. But the toilets? Immaculate. Otherwise it is the same. As usual with desert service work, I do not think that they make enough money but that is up to them. I do tip generously.

That shut out the movie of the day but it did leave time for me to finish one book and start another. There is a lot of dead time while the cleaning is going on even if I had chores to get ready that overlapped with the guys. The completed book is Someone by Alice Mcdermott. Thought by many to be a catholic writer, McDermott writes about family life and home. In this one, the most successful so far, I think, she tells about a family that lives from the twenties until the sixties. The sections are episodic, the memories of a mother from her time as a little girl to her time as an older mom. The stories are filled with wise and happy reflections and a lot of experience of the time periods involved. She would be the age of my mother. It was fun to see my Mom in this situations. Beyond that, since I am one of the kids, it is less involving for me as the kids are not much fleshed out. When they are little they are little and when we come to the time where the kids are adult, they are away doing work. There is a brother with whom we grow up and watch become a priest, then a failed priest who lives alone, has a nervous breakdown and then comes to live with the family. He is gay, a fact which dawns on the reader slowly but a lot sooner than the family catches on. This at a time when the closet was the only place to be for a lot of men, particularly catholic men. This is deftly handled as well. McDermott is a skillful writer first and foremost. A pleasure to read.

My goal for today is to do nothing. Well, not nothing. I have already washed my jeans which is a special, by me only, job. I wash them, then shake out the wrinkles while they are wet, slapping them against me knees like a rug. Then into the drier. Mostly alone as other clothes fuck up the system and the jeans come out with pleats. Mine are smooth. But, an exception today. I put my gym shorts in with them. Soft, pliable shorts. Nylon. Not something that will affect the jeans and might even gently support their nice completion. Later there will be stuff for sure and a movie but I will let that be for a separate item.

Labels: books, condo, gender

They are painting our condo unit as I type. It looks like we will be the darker of two shades they are using. John calls it the green one. I don't see that but it is darker than the other one which is undeniably tan. Different but not that much in my view. People's reaction differs. The garage doors and trim will be the same brown as they have been. John said it was good that Booker is at the groomer. It is very upsetting to have all this shit going on, stuff moved, windows taped. If he were here it would be hard indeed. God's gift. Our stucco was really bad when we bought it. Two bad shades repainted. We never corrected it and got used to it. Now, no matter what shade, there will be only one. And they are even going to paint over the plaques behind the fountain which we decided not to remove for the operation. Everything passes eventually.

Massage today! The first in a long while and it was great. It is easy to get a mediocre massage but tough to get a good one. I have no desire to wade through the mediocre ones to get to the good. So. This guy, Alberto, came recommended and John went to him. He has hard hands. What I want. I am not interested in a ceremonial treatment. I want the whole thing full blast. My right lower back has been touchy and I thought it might work to get worked over. I don't know how it will turn out but the experience was among the best that I have had. Hard, tough, unrelenting. It hurt. The only kind worth getting.

More painting! I got home to a fully painted stucco and it looks pretty good. They should finish all of that today and finish the week doing the brown trim.

Labels: condo, health, massage

Dentist today. Cleaning. No cavities. See the doc next time. Gotta love a day like this.

The condo painting is getting nearer. Spraying Peggy's place next door. I guess we get it tomorrow. I used the opportunity to get the palo verde tree pruned today. They took down our luscious orange flowered vine for painting. Shit. The paint better look good. Maybe it will grow back quickly.

The weather is gorgeous. Come see it.

No movie. Just teeth in the same time slot.

Labels: condo, dentist, garden, weather

Some gay themed films go out of favor, then come back. They can be discovered anew. Somehow, in its second life,Come Undone (2000) has somehow transformed into a coming of age film which happens to be gay. Did I change? The times? It hardly matters. It is a beautiful film about a summer/winter romance in a French seaside town in which the main character Matthieu gets to find himself as well as a friend and partner. The film is structured without a structure and avoids conclusion. It shows rather than tell. Matthieu does not get all his answers but seems, by the end, to have enough to move on. Happily. There is a beginning and end, but the film is episodic moving forward and backward in time. We get to assemble the pieces as, it seems, Matthieu is doing when he revisits his seaside town and remembers. I obviously wanted to see it again because I bought it when it came out recently and now, I will want to see it again. Perhaps the next time I look, it will have become even yet a another story. Very rich. Evocative. Nice guys. Good romantic scenes. Solid story. A 5 out of Netflix5 over and over.

Labels: films

MIT interview today. I picked a new place to meet. The old spot in the village was constantly under assault by events being held there. Crowds. Last weekend it was biker's weekend. This week, the end of the gay pride parade. So I met the kid in a coffee place near where we used to live, new to me as I don't do coffee in "places", but it all worked out. Plenty of parking, nice surroundings, not crowded, not too noisy from the nearby street. Just right. I am going to use it again next week. The interview was so so. I wrote as enthusiastically as I could. That is my new policy. Pump it up reasonably. I have found in the feedback I get from MIT that they downgrade me when I am critical of the kid. I am never too tough but they like to hear the good side and draw their own conclusions. Another few years at this and I will have it down.

We are under siege from painters of the condo A major project, the first painting of the wood and stucco, all around, in over 20 years. I moved all the plants, mostly cactus, and stuff to the middle of the patio and the gardeners have trimmed back most, not all, of the bushes in preparation for the washers and painters. People who have had this done so far, on the other side, say it is not too bad in the actual painting. The results look pretty good although a bit undramatic as I do not see that much difference between then and now. But that is me. People are a bit upset when I don't ooh and aaaahhh over it. It is as though it is their personal paint job. But it is not.

Labels: cactus, condo, MIT

It is gay pride weekend here. We don't celebrate it when everyone else does, around the middle of June. June is the beginning of the dead season here in the desert so the gay resorts who are the ones supporting the festival see that date as a lost business opportunity. The first weekend in November is the beginning of the "season" here and so it is also the weekend that we will be the proudest of being gay. I am not too cynical about this. I wouldn't much be involved if it were in June around Stonewall time. It is not that I am un-proud. I am proud enough of my gay life and the gay "movement" as it has evolved so quickly in the last several decades. There is a huge difference today in every realm of gay rights. For example, it is hard to find much "coming out" literature or movies or other activities which highlight this momentous event from all our lives. Most gay people now are quite familiar with the existence of other gay people at an early age. Television, movies, school. The news. There is certainly an adjustment to the way we are brought up which is still resolutely heterosexual. They don't know how to bring up a gay baby after all. But it is a smoother path. No one pays much attention to their parents anyway. Besides, sexual identity is not a matter of rebellion so much as a recovery from the inevitable influence of the same false values that young straight people have to contend with particularly if the family is religious or strongly traditional. Now, the gay twist almost eases the path for gay kids. Personally I am proud of my earned identity as a gay man even though I have been gay from the beginning. As basic as my other genetic stuff. The way I acted it out was different throughout my life. I became actively homosexual, really did it, as a college student and then tried to put that aside and to have a conventional life as a straight man. Such were the Fifties. Hard scrabbling for a gay boy. While I had a great time with a great woman with great kids and am still proud of that too, it became inevitable that the gay gravity would bring me back to my own reality. I had to make a second life, this one out in the open. Much sooner than I planned, I met a man that I wanted to share my life with and so I went from out and about to out and in a relationship which, as it turns out, was a model for many other gay men. I speak proudly as humbly as I can about that. We started to work on the marriage thing very early together and finally were able to get married and to still retain our families on both sides. It was hard work but we had the advantage of loving family members and friends. Now, here we are not so much marching in a rights parade as to basking slightly in the pride of having made it up and out of the old, now more passé social ostracism that a lot of gay men had to endure. Proud. And, most of all, happy. And I don't much "buy gay" which is what I see a lot of gay pride celebrations have become.

Andre Gregory is a moderately well known stage actor and a not so well known occasional film actor He, most notably, appeared in a reality film with Wally Shawn a number of years back. They had dinner together. Neither Shawn or Gregory got over its success and they continued to work together over the years. And still are. The biopic Andre Gregory: Before and After Dinner made by Gregory's wife is a bit pretentious and, in the early parts of it, boring and not very illuminating. Somewhere in the second half, through Gregory's monologues, we hear the story of his father and how Dad influenced him so much. I am a sucker for this kind of thing and sort of enjoyed it even with some of the posturing and over exposure. I am glad I saw it but once is enough and when someone's wife has made a film about them it might be best to take a pass. A 2 out of Netflix5. I did watch to the end and did not FF. Even when I wanted to. I did RW a few times to recapture parts where I found I had dozed off for a bit and lost the thread. Not good. Dozing or the problem picking up when something doesn't quite get across.

Labels: coming out, films, gay identity, gay life

I really like young adult novels. It is a genré which is getting more recognition. Mostly because some very good writers are working in this area and the readership almost requires that the fiction meet the standards of full force adult literary fiction. I just finished a great book called Will Grayson Will Grayson by John Green. Will Grayson is two kids. One upper case, the other lower case, who are the protagonists and they will meet each other somewhere near the middle of the book and play a part in each others' lives through a third character who is probably the real protagonist, a huge gay guy named Tiny Cooper. Cooper is a character's character. He knows the Graysons because the upper case Will is his straight best friend. The lower case will is a gay teenager who he will meet as a result of a failed date/meetup. Will's, not Tiny's. Mostly these are teen struggles with self and the various kinds of love. Straight Will has a girlfriend who is more of a friend than a girlfriend. What's the deal? They do not know. But they find out. Lower case will, the gay one, has a gay on line experience only to find that, well, it ain't what it seems. Tiny is exuberant and big in every aspect of his life. He must figure out how he can find love and why having 16 love affairs may not be the best way to find real love. The book does not flinch from looking at the end of relationships, best friends, boyfriends. Everyone helps everyone else and it is a nice time. I got this because of the gay content but it isn't much focused on that as most YA adult books are not these days. The gay aspect simply becomes a part of the social fabric like anything else. A thread. And that is the way we always wanted it. Now it is here.

There is nothing to today's film. This is Martin Bonner (2013) is so understated that it seems it is hardly there. I almost ditched it at the last minute after reading some reviews. But something told me. And I am glad that I stayed. Nothing happens and everything happens. A man gets out of prison, two men meet, one supposedly a counsellor, who it turns out is in his first job. A kind of failure. The other an ex-con. Twelve years for vehicular homicide. After they meet, they get together every once in awhile. The counsellor, Martin Bonner, is really second string. There is a "mentor" but he is a christer and doesn't really connect with the ex-con who needs a friend. Just one will do. The ex-con's daughter shows up for the first meeting after 12 years. Bonner is asked to come along. He does. The first meeting is very awkward and almost would not have happened without Bonner. That is about it. But everything happens. Friendship. Fatherhood, daughterhood, new starts both from lost paths only different. It is a wonderful, small, tiny film with all kinds of loose ends (intentional) and we get to sit and watch. I loved it. I would even watch it again. A 4 out of Netflix5.

Today is turkey, a full breast. Roasted this morning. We eat a lot of turkey. I have tried all the forms. It is not the most convenient animal to prep. But I will get maybe 6 meals out of it. The whole breast, roasted. No additives. I debone it. It tastes fresh no matter how long it is frozen. Kind of a mess but very worth it if I mentally underwrite it as 6 meals. Turkey. Breast. Forget the legs and thighs.

Labels: books, films, food, gay life, young adult lit