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countdown to thirty...

2012-01-17T19:55:00.010-05:00

the last hours as a person
in my twenties..

shocking
shocking how life sneaks up on you

this afternoon
as i tiptoed back out into the world
after days of prolonged hibernation
(weekends during the coldest days of winter will do that to you)
i was blown away by the humanity

it's all around us

a young black boy on the train in oversized hand-me-down clothes
fishing for something in his backpack
a book(!)
he stands alone, earnest, sincere
reading "Dragons of the Cauldron" or something like that

i wanted to say that i was proud of him
for reading
for traveling by himself
for seeming so brave

but he was not my son

the boy
the profile of a man on the subway
the smile of a 'boardwalk empire' costume designer as she fit me into my suit
glimmers of a life i know i'll lead
partnership, work, a family
love

puzzle pieces
still being searched for..

my twenties have been about so many things

fun, frivolity
learning to be a man- through error more than trial
stepping out of my comfort zone into just about every job that came my way

actor, painter, casting intern, production assistant,
telesales caller, p.r. novice, off broadway script supervisor
host, waiter, gallerista, talent agency slave

when i look back and think of all the experiences

savannah, georgia - paris, france,
rosie o'donnell, road trips, mardi gras
opening night parties
my brother's wedding, woody allen at the carlyle alongside my mom
the men: likes, lusts and loves
stepping onto the set of "sex and the city 2"
all of the paintings i didn't know were locked inside me
dreams happening, in real time

i look back and i'm grateful
but also realize how afraid i've been

at thirty comes a kind of timid wisdom

failure used to terrify me
not trying so hard seemed the smarter choice
i now feel that not trying my hardest WAS the ultimate failure

to look back and say i didn't succeed
because i couldn't allow myself to fail
i shake my head in bafflement, disappointed
so misguided
so.. young

i sit here
in the apartment on the upper east side of manhattan
that i actually own a piece of

settled spatially
afloat in most other areas

i look at the clock
the countdown creeps on

just what do you DO with your last few hours
as a twenty-something?

i will accidentally miss the last bikram yoga class of the day
watch "glee"
read "the help"
go to bed

the clock will strike midnight
and i will begin my 30th year

there won't be another man beside me
there won't be children's voices down the hall
or a pregnant wife
or roommates, even

tomorrow will be celebration
a huge dinner party
out on the town

but tonight it will just be me
and my dog
who's been by my side for over nine years now

if i look back at this
on the eve of my 40th birthday
i hope to be experiencing those moments
alongside a family that i've helped to create

like magic, out of the ether all around me

but
if it's still just me
and a dog

i will try and remind myself
as always
that the journey is the destination

and that your life is always in motion
speaking to you in whispers
waiting to be acknowledged
and every so often
changed...

art heals.

2009-12-04T23:57:00.002-05:00

paint your life.

through the looking-glass

2009-09-03T11:10:00.000-04:00

All else falls away
when pain
worry
a REAL HEALTH concern arises

The world keeps spinning
outside your universe
elsewhere
As you sit huddled
scared, unsure of what the future holds

An ulceration
on the cornea of my left eye
the result of a dried up contact slicing me in my sleep

Possible/ Likely - Bacteria/ Infection
Best Case Scenario: I stop wearing contacts for 4-6 weeks
Worst Case: I go blind
or lose my eye

The pain has subsided
That sawdust in the eyeball
excruciatingly constant feeling
gratefully gone.

But my vision-
has not returned

Blurry, like looking through a smoke filled room
or past a pane of frosted glass

I'm nervous
about never seeing the world clearly again
about glass eyes and patches
about losing my fucking eyeball

Soon I'll be off to see the specialists at Mount Sinai
for my third day in a row

But no matter what the outcome
there's certainty
that I'll never see the world around me
in quite the same way
again.

splattered.

2009-08-23T00:03:00.005-04:00

I'm drunk
the night before I film a scene
as an extra
in "Going the Distance"

The fingers
as they pushed their ways down my throat
conjured up a color
orange/ almost day-glo salmon

the mixture of salsa and sour cream

I feel emptied
a friend left tonight
Anne/ back to London tomorrow day
saying goodbye is always hard
Tequila and Champagne only help a bit

Life Does Not Turn Out
As Expected
but we'll all be fine

with the dog beside me
I hope the bed brings comfort
and not the wave shift tremors
of a life spent drinking
socializing
laughing
floundering about in search
of a higher calling
a deeper means
a more purposeful life

Tomorrow brings a different color
Perhaps it will be Turquoise.

19 hour christmas

2008-12-26T11:09:00.018-05:00

from the stroke of midnight
at the very start of december 25th
up until well after 3 a.m.
as i put the final finishing touches on my gifts

then back up again
just five hours later, right around 8 o'clock

AN ALL-DAY CHRISTMAS

laughter, food, gifts, hiking, family, friends
memories made

at the end of a long
(and not entirely easy) year
a day of joy and peace

now
as 2009 approaches
and this blog, more or less, comes to an end
i give thanks

for the blessings all around us
for the ability to step back and see life anew
for the pleasure and relief that can come with change
and for the awareness to see past form, preconceived ideas,
and the external world
into something real.

merry christmas and happy holidays to everyone

in the hope that 2009 is our best year yet.

Does A Body Good.

2008-12-07T21:12:00.012-05:00

I saw the film "Milk" last night with a group of young, upwardly mobile gay men: a graphic designer, an artist working at Samuel French Publishing and (shockingly) two attorneys. As the credits rolled two of the friends kept saying to each other how sad the film had left them. "I've never seen a more depressing movie in my entire life," was one beleaguered response.

I couldn't have felt more differently. The film, which tells the story of the rise into office and subsequent murder of Harvey Milk, the first openly gay elected public official, actually left me feeling inspired, nostalgic, grateful, empowered and above all else overflowing with pride.

But that's not to say that "Milk" didn't leave me untouched by melancholy. The unspeakably powerful story aside, which is heartbreaking and tragic, what shook me from the very beginning was a sense of yearning (and possibly regret) for a life that I wasn't even alive to experience.

In short, I wanted to be a part of that movement. Not that I wanted to actually be Harvey Milk; with the government position, the newspaper articles, the schools now named after him and his place firmly set in the history books. No, I didn't need to be Harvey. I just longed to be a part of his orbit. Young, passionate, driven, angry individuals fighting time and again, even after they'd been bloodily knocked down.

It all seemed like such fun. Fun in a way that a night in Hell's Kitchen or a carefree trip to Fire Island could never be. (And, in all honesty, possibly fun in a way that only a well edited movie can make the day-to-day events of government life appear) God knows there's still plenty to fight for as 2009 is upon us. I'm just not sure I've found that role in the universe. I'm just not sure I've found that universe at all.

So many of us were beyond inspired by the election of Barack Obama into the Presidency. As I took the bus up to get a haircut near Columbia University a few days ago I noticed a New York Times headline stating "300,000 Apply for 3,300 Obama Jobs." Now that's a profoundly powerful political movement. And it's actually happening RIGHT NOW.

I suppose I have no right to complain. We are living in hands-down the most exciting political time of modern American history. And plus, I've always said I'm grateful to be a gay man who came of age in the late 90s and early 2000s. It feels a bit like what I imagine the Civil Rights Movement felt like for African Americans in the 1960s. A group of fed-up people finally finding their voice and making it heard LOUDLY.

I'm happy that I never grew into old age terrified or ashamed, just another crazy old Uncle Confirmed Bachelor... But I'm also somehow happy that I'm not one of the kids today, who perhaps find it almost too easy to come out to mom and dad at the ripe old age of 12. There's something to be said for having an awareness of just how much progress has been made. To have felt that confusion, that fear. But to have lived life openly anyway.

Maybe I'm just experiencing that New York City Eight year itch. After four years of college at NYU and a varied, generally exciting array of jobs and experiences since, I still feel that New York will forever be my home. I'm just also fairly certain that I want it to be my forever-home after having lived a couple of other places as well...

...The first quasi-real relationship I ever had in life was back as a freshman in college around the holiday season of 2000. It ended horribly, with him breaking up with me over the phone the day before Valentine's Day and then showing up stoned months later when I'd arranged to finally meet up and get "closure." But as life goes, time healed all wounds and he and I (while in no way friends) are linked up on Facebook and have chatted there once or twice.

The thing is that Facebook thrusts people's business in your face even when you aren't looking for it. With important "Notifications" like: Rebecca just changed her status to "In A Relationship" and: "Bobby just got in from 9 HOURS OF NON-STOP SNOW BOARDING! WOO HOOOO!" you end up learning things about your "friends" you might not have even been interested in finding out.

But this ex of mine seems to be leading (while not the life I'd have chosen for myself) a pretty fascinating, nomadic, potentially uber-cultured lifestyle. Sandwiched between his photos from Burning Man and his shots at Brighton Pride he seems to have spent the Summer of 2008 in Florida, New York, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Denmark, Norway, the U.K. and Portugal. And apparently right now he's in Grad School somewhere in Manhattan.

I, on the other hand, have just been here all these years. And not even vacationing as much as I'd like. The point of this tangent is that I logged onto Facebook this evening after a looong day of recovering after a looong night of partying in the Upper West Side, Lower East Side and Williamsburg to find this posting from said ex...

"help me get my hands all milky

as winter officially sets in with the cosmic union of miley cyrus and the rockettes and a giant fur all gussied up and stuffed with lights and brights, and yesterday's sampling of that bewildering intrusion that is ice flakes from the sky, i have felt the urge not only to listen to gloria estefan's 'coming out of the dark' on a loop for six hours but also to begin planning for summer 2009, when the only ice i'll be confronted with will constitute of cream, or be politely melting in my lemonade.

i am looking to find a job/internship/volunteeropportunity/paycourse in sustainable farming or construction. i have researched and found endless opportunities to act as a farm hand for the summer, just in upstate new york alone, however i know that many of you have worked for such places and wonder what suggestions my friends may have. also, do you want to join me or can i join you? i am willing to travel anywhere in the states to work (except florida), stay a full three months, and get very dirty and even sleep on a mat. what i would like to take out of the experience is one or all of the following: the ability to befriend and milk a cow, biceps, 100 logged hours of chain saw operation, pectorals, carpentry experience, man hands, connection with the earth, farmer's tan, sustainable husbandry in general.

thoughts and suggestions?"

Ok. So first off, I have no desire to work on a farm. Ever. I also have no real desire to suddenly go into politics. Yet.. But I am inspired by my ex's commitment to continually live life anew. And I'm also confronted by the same dilemma Harvey Milk faced at the start of the film (and I'm assuming in his real life as well). "I'm 40 years old and I haven't done a thing I'm proud of."

26 is not 40. And I'm proud of a lot. But life swings past at a break-neck speed. This is our one and only shot. Is it everything it could be? Are any of us out there certain of ourselves that we're a part of something important, that what we do every day matters, that we are living to our greatest potential?

Because I don't feel unjustified in wanting every single bit of that. And I'm not afraid to continue the journey down that road. The road that will, with hopeful certainty, lead to my great undefined "it's" inevitable discovery.

This is not 1978. Harvey Milk hasn't been alive for over 30 years. But the world keeps spinning forward. It's a big, brave universe out there. From Farmland to City Hall. And there is much more work to be done.

with gratitude...

2008-11-29T23:16:00.012-05:00

this thanksgiving
we put our beloved family dog meg
to sleep

she had been very, very ill
for some time
blind and mostly deaf for even longer

and finally at the point where
she could no longer eat

it was both heartbreaking and somehow easy
taking those final days with her
but knowing that it really, really was her time

thanksgiving morning
as i shaved and showered
my mom and brother headed to the lake house
and my little sister got herself ready for the day

my dad
drove our 13 year old meg to the next town over
to the only open animal hospital nearby
and handled what needed to be done

before he left
we each had our goodbyes with meg
whispers, kisses, hands on fur
but he was the one to drive her
carry her into the hospital
and be with her in the end

my father stepped in to save us from that pain.

that entire afternoon i was so moved
by the sheer reality of life, family and the inevitability of loss

i was moved because
for the first time in a long time
i was reminded that this man is the leader of our pack
that when horrible situations arise
he is first in line to fix them

and i was suddenly safe with this awareness
we each were
safe in his protection

a few hours later
as my sister, dad and i headed to the lake ourselves
to join the rest of our family and our friends

he told us everything

how the doctor had said this was especially difficult
because she had an english springer spaniel just like ours

how she had told him that meg was truly very sick
and that we had made the humane choice

how my father had cried, somehow
saying goodbye to her like that

all alone
with his dog there one moment
and then calmly, peacefully gone the next

then, shouldering the burden
for everyone else

without praise or fanfare
he headed home
to us

pride and prejudice

2008-11-16T23:40:00.005-05:00

saturday, november 15
a protest, a gathering, a movement
at new york's city hall

in response to the passing of
proposition 8 in california
which aims to effectively ban gay marriage

as i skipped down the street looking for my friends
i was amazed by the thousands and thousands of people
standing, chanting, moving en masse

people of every age, race, sexual orientation and size
many with unimaginably witty or moving posters

"shame on h8! equality for everyone"
"give, live, love"
"straight... but not straight up stupid"
"shall we vote on YOUR marriage now?"
"love thy gay-bor!"
"1/2 citizen"
"gay is the new black"
"i'm here to meet my husband"
"please let my son marry"
"no more mr. nice gay"
"REALLY?"

each and every one of these people empowered
and finally angry for a change

there was hope and pride and joy and glee
all the emotions one would expect from a gathering of "gays"

but mixed with that was the sobering reality
that history is repeating itself yet again
and that if any of us expect REAL change
then that'll take a little bit more than glitter & a dance beat

it will take strategic, organized political action

all in all, i think it was important for so many of us
to know that in some small way
we were participating, contributing

i'm not too sure what a bunch of fired-up gays in new york
will do for a law that WAS voted on
by the tax paying citizens of california
but every crack in that ceiling helps

and at any rate (because to some degree most stereotypes are true)
the 8 of us who gathered and made our voices heard
ended up having a fantastic late afternoon brunch in brooklyn
once all the megaphones and posters had been put away

now THAT'S a movement we can all get behind...

it is time...

2008-11-05T11:51:00.000-05:00

(my) Election Day 2008

vote here. vote often.

the energy of election day at p.s. 72

voting booth proof.

Last Call for Change: Guastavino's New York

the phone bank, november 4th

gavin brown's "penthouse" election night party

shock and awe.

Mr. President

inspirING.

2008-11-02T15:04:00.010-05:00

the ING new york city marathon
inspiring beyond words

in hordes they flowed
on this brisk november day
bodies, energy, sweat, tears

a never ending parade of colors and faces
lycra running shorts and nike tennis shoes

it was an amusing bunch this year
more costumes than i'd have expected
from braveheart to borat to batgirl

and then there were those who moved past me
leaving us all stunned and breathless
paraplegics racing on their metal legs
participants in wheelchairs
the blind being guided by friends

no one can stop the spirit
if it has to move it will

plus, there was ryan reynolds
whose body is like some sort of sculpture

and even some trannies too!
with auburn wigs and pink body suits
winded, heads down, powering on

i went to cheer on my friend jenny
who never ceases to inspire me

but was left somehow moved by everyone
the jokesters, the struggling
the beautiful, the proud

you could say it's just putting one foot in front of the other
granted, one foot in front of the other for 26.2 miles

but it's a testament to the human body
the human will

and i couldn't be prouder
of all of them.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

2008-10-31T19:24:00.008-04:00

boo!

wow, here's to the BEST halloween ever!
so many costumes
so many ridiculously awesome people

from ryan's champagne "event" at elizabeth
to the pre-game house party in the west village
to the most insane 5,000 sq. ft. tribeca loft extravaganza

this tribeca loft party, i'm tellin' you
there was a haunted house
rooftop terrace
three open bars
sushi and dim sum spread
not to mention, more energized and enlivened characters
than should ever be crammed into just one night!

sometimes in life
you hope and wish and worry
but it all works out in the end

beyond expectations
beyond limits
waaay beyond dawn

happy halloween to everybody!
may you never, ever, ever grow up.

MADONNA: STICKY AND SWEET TOUR 2008

2008-10-28T20:06:00.004-04:00

the epitome
the ultimate

artistry, energy, dance, movement, politics
just the absolute pinnacle of it all

all hail the queen
the 4th madonna concert i've had the privilege of attending
and if you've never been, then what are you waiting for?

she will blow the roof off what you'd previously thought possible
and shift your perspectives
on art and performance

see her while you can
with your mom if possible (like me!)

she. will. leave. you. changed.

the boss of no one

2008-10-27T23:04:00.006-04:00

harry potter
a boy wizard
frightened, challenged
but with a predetermined destiny

i'm nervous
a life less ordinary
couldn't be imagined

as the urge bubbles to the surface
RUN, RUN, RUN
i sit, immobile as ever
and change the channel again

stagnation:
a state beyond just stagnant
stagnant enough to encompass a NATION

writers are supposed to be able
to write about more than themselves

i am not a writer.

perhaps i am only a viewer
some spectator of lives all around me
the real and the serialized

as i watch the story of jennifer hudson's family
tragedy beyond comprehension

and the murder of little rock's anne pressly
too gruesome to describe

i sit, immobile as ever
and change the channel again

halloween was never supposed to be this scary.

there are moments of such crystalline clarity
the evening, the music, the company, the wind

followed by moments
more dull, numb, full and fuzzy
where stepping outside seems a chore

what defines a life?
anything.

how do you know if you're living to your full potential?
you know.

what if you're sure that you aren't?
then change it.

what if you're worried you can't?
you can.

VOTE NOVEMBER 4TH!

2008-10-23T20:38:00.007-04:00

MY GOD. THIS IS THE MOST AMAZING THING EVER!

Words cannot express the joy this video brought to me when it arrived in my gmail account this afternoon!

Brilliance Beyond Belief! Thank You MOVEON.ORG!

(Click on the Screen itself to play the video FULL SIZE and to be taken to the sight where you can make your own!)

9.22.2008

2008-09-22T23:02:00.008-04:00

one year ago today
matt died

as memories turn to sepia hues

sounds and smells
register with less clarity
and life, for all of us, unsparingly moves on

it's a constant, those memories

as i remind myself
that love like that is always a blessing
even when it's masked as a curse

i remain, forever
steadfastly sad for matt
more so than for his family, his friends or for myself

sad for matt
because of all that he's missing here on earth
all that he'd wanted to be part of
all that he'd desired to see

there was a question and answer
i read online one day

the question was:
"what holds people back from greatness?"

and the answer appeared immediately:
"how they define it"

greatness.

it is everywhere
in the most mundane of moments
in the small joys of a hard day's work
in a smile or gesture, the benign desire to change the world

and in a life cut dramatically short

greatness... nearly twenty four years of it.

fuerza bruta

2008-09-20T13:25:00.010-04:00

artistry, magic
music beyond comprehension

fuerza bruta
translation: brute force
playing now in new york's union square

see this miraculous theatre piece
part cirque du soleil
part dance party
all wonder and witchcraft

the sight of my friend lindsey's face
usually so reserved and pinched
glowing, beaming, filled with light
muscled i didn't even know she had stretched in glee

as we danced about, arm in arm
to tribal beats straight out of the forest of arden
all the while
being sprayed with cool/warm waters

like smelling salts
bringing us back to life

there is so much beauty in this world
it is sometimes hard to hold it in your heart

otherwise (politically) engaged.

2008-09-15T15:48:00.000-04:00

i believe this to be
the absolute, hands-down most exciting time to be alive
and politically engaged in america
in modern history

"change" has become a somewhat damaged catch-phrase
tossed about like that drunk girl who stumbled into the frat party
but honestly, how often do we get an opportunity like this?

a guaranteed fundamental shift
in the future of this nation

our first black president
our first female vice president

we can count on getting one of these two come november

but it's about more than just one dimensional labels and campaign slogans
it's about the potential for a true and realistic turning of the tides
after the seemingly insurmountable damage
caused by the bush/cheney administration

i've been amazed (albeit terrified AND amazed) by sarah palin
over these past few weeks
she truly comes across as a fighter
a woman strong in her own convictions
somebody probably perfect for running her home state of alaska

but when i think of
a first term governor
a self-proclaimed "hockey mom"
a staunch believer in pro-life polictics
an advocate for "creationism" and the nra
a politician unfamiliar with the bush doctrine
a potential leader of the free world with no foreign policy experience
a woman who doesn't seem particularly concerned about global warming
and just a heartbeat away from LEADER OF THE FREE WORLD?!

it all seems so cynical and sick
that the republicans could have even picked her in the first place
especially since mccain's strongest argument against obama was "experience"

so then, on the other hand
we have barack obama

i won't romanticize him or wax on poetically
frankly, i was a hillary supporter from day one
and at the very least, feel she should have been chosen v.p.

but if you've paid even the tiniest amount of attention
you'll have seen that barack obama has proven himself to be
as intelligent, compassionate and prepared a potential president
as this country could have ever hoped for

he truly is the dream
the hope that this nation was founded upon

plus, when you take a look at the economy alone
alongside john mccain's voting records as they parallel to george w. bush's failed policies
you have to ask yourself, how COULDN'T the majority of americans be voting for REAL change?

and if, like me, you've been glued to this whole process every step of the way
watching debate after debate
be it between the pundits on cnn, the ladies of "the view," or even (on occasion!) the candidates themselves
then you'll be hard-pressed to not ALSO tune into
"real time with bill maher"
airing on hbo

this man is beyond the beyond
hilarious, fair, whip-smart and a hoot to watch

here's just a little snipet of his "New Rules"
from an episode that aired on september 12th, 2008

enjoy.

"All right. Finally, New Rule: Just because you live in the middle of nowhere doesn't make you more authentic than me. It just means you have a much longer drive to the airport.

Now, ever since Sarah Palin came along, this election has been falsely framed as a contest between salt-of-the-earth, small-time maverick westerners and snooty eastern elites. You know, there's people who go to church on Sunday, and there's people who go to brunch.

Even fast-talking, cross-dressing Rudy Giuliani - the former mayor of New York City - accused Obama of being too cosmopolitan. That's like being called a douche-bag by Andy Dick.

And...and listen to Mitt Romney from the same convention. He said, "If America really wants change, it's time to look for the sun in the west, because it's about to rise and shine from Arizona and Alaska. Of course, if the sun actually did rise in the west, that would mean the earth is spinning backwards and we'd all fly into space. But, then Mormons were never big on science. As you well know.

But, what Mitt was getting at is that the East Coast is where all the liberals, with their bad ideas, come from. You know, bad ideas like the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. As opposed to the brilliant ideas that have come out of the west like frontier justice and wearing cowboy boots with a suit.

The ideas this nation was founded on came from the most cosmopolitan people of their day, the founding fathers, who believed in science, who looked to Europe for wisdom, and who had no use for ignorant hicks like Bush and Palin.

Truth is - the truth is, as America moved west and got farther away from its birthing in Boston and Philadelphia, it became less American, not more. We keep hearing about small-town values, you know, like shooting wolves from an airplane or forcing your daughter into a doomed, loveless marriage.

Cities are about diversity of thought. Small towns are about...well, crystal meth. And, last year, police found 42 meth labs in Sarah Palin's home county. Drug addiction is a terrible thing, but apparently it beats living in Wasilla sober.

There's so much meth in this town, I'm surprised the Palins didn't have a kid named "Tweaker."

So, now I know what they mean when they talk about the Alaska spirit. Ah, yes, Alaska, where the townsfolk are jittery and the hockey players screw right through the condoms."

postsecret.com

2008-09-12T23:20:00.000-04:00

it's rather silly
for a small blog like mine
to promote a much larger one
like this

but postsecret.com
is one of the web's mini miracles

a community art project
where secrets are sent in and shared
ultimately illuminating the unity within us all

these are some of my favorites from over the years
melancholy, sincere, tender, hopeful

not exactly representations of my own life
but each one a secret of someone else's
that brought a moment of clarity, humor, awakening
(or just art) to mine

wake-up "calling"

2008-08-22T13:30:00.015-04:00

i was woken up this morning by a knock at the door...

"ugh"
sleepy-eyed
with a sore-throat
out til 5 am the night prior

"must be con edison" ran through my head
"or the super coming back to check on repairs he'd made yesterday"
"maybe it's even a package that they need me to sign!"

at any rate
i wasn't nearly lucid enough
to give it much thought
as i stumbled from my bed towards the knocking
pulling on a t-shirt as i moved

when i finally threw open the door
i was more than a little shocked to find
two mormon missionaries
standing right before me

"oh god"
i said, without thinking
standing in an oversized t-shirt and purple-striped boxers

"good afternoon. we're here from the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints to see if you've got a minute to talk about the power of jesus christ?"

i stood
breathing in
then shook my head
waiting for the words to come

for some reason as a gut-reaction
i lowered my face to the ground
suddenly, inexplicably fixated on the floor
and said the only thing that came to mind...

"oh, you don't want to talk to me.."

it was all i could come up with.

the dark haired (speaking member) then replied
"of course we do.. why wouldn't we want to talk to you?"

i looked at my feet, i could feel my cheeks burn
and answered
"the list is too long"

the thing is
it's amazing how people can alter your reality completely
in the absolute blink of an eye

it's crazy how their mere presence can
suddenly make a self-assured person feel utterly ashamed

unnatural, dirty, wrong

i don't feel ashamed
i don't feel unnatural
i don't feel dirty
i don't feel wrong

i just now feel the need to repeat that to myself
over and over again

they didn't mean any harm, these two young men
they didn't come here to judge me, necessarily
obviously they believe that this is their "calling"

but here they were
white shirts, "elder this-and-that" name tags, black backpacks
giving me full mormon costume
like they'd stayed out too late the morning after halloween

the one who did the talking seemed simple, kind, pure even

and here i was
after another long night
of drink, smoke etc.
feeling dried out, weary
and more than a little turned on by the sight of them

thinking to myself, if only for an instant
that maybe my life is wrong?

that maybe there is a better way?

but then i stopped
took an assessment of the situation
and reminded myself that i fundamentally don't believe
in forcing your religion on anybody else

if your relationship with a higher power is so strong
then why do you need other people involved to enjoy that?

it's a special, deeply profound relationship with a god, by any name
experienced only in the landscape of your own head and heart
it's certainly not a mass exodus
or an orgy

i also took a moment to affirm
that i'm still a good person
that i am more than just the previous night's debauchery
that there's beauty and calm and connectedness to the universe
within me as well

the only real difference between me and these two gentlemen
are the labels we put on "god"

that, and the fact i'm not currently standing beside another man
dressed for the afternoon ahead
with a pamphlet in my hand

"STRANGE ATTRACTOR" at Fringe NYC

2008-08-20T12:37:00.011-04:00

I couldn't be any prouder than I am about "STRANGE ATTRACTOR," the show I'm Company Managing for the 12th Annual New York International Fringe Festival.

It's a fantastic "Theatrical Showcase of Magic and Mystery- Willy Wonka meets Hitchcock!" And is an amazing experience designed especially for the child in all of us.

It's been running at Spiegelworld in the South Street Seaport for the past two weeks and there's only one show left (this Saturday August, 23 at 7:30 pm) so come on by if you get the chance!

"Partake in mind-reading, teleporting and other interactive feats with Marco, a Magic Man out to save the world...and the world beyond!" You'll be truly Blown Away!

Visit www.fringenyc.org or marcofrezza.com for more information.

And click to see reviews of our show HERE, HERE and HERE!

a day on the set of "ugly betty"

2008-08-09T01:39:00.010-04:00

a day on the set of "ugly betty"
which is now, i'm happy to say, filmed in new york

i've never really watched the show
but it was fun to be a part of
fun and looong

fifteen hours
standing around
talking with everybody
acting shocked when a 400 lb. ice sculpture got pushed over
take after take, time after time

these actors work hard
well, if not exactly hard, then at least looong

it'll be a great episode
i'm one of a group of the "new york elite"
at a magazine launch party

drama ensues, believe me
in a very camp, telemundo way...

another of life's odd experiences
existing in an almost real word

it'll have to be looked at again someday
through dumbledore's pensieve perhaps

or, at the very least, through the "magic" of television

Kanye West: Glow In The Dark Tour

2008-08-06T11:17:00.012-04:00

as if his performance weren't inherently enough
as if his artistry hadn't already blown all our minds

at the very end of the evening
following his final encore
out of nowhere
we get this...

bravery, truth-teller
"artist he"
the final frontier
all bow down to Kanye West.

"Open your fucking minds. Open your minds. Be accepting of different people and let people be who they are. You know how many people came to me calling me gay cause I wear my jeans the fresh way? Or because I said hey, dude, how you gonna say 'fag' right in front of a gay dude's face and act like that's ok. That shit is disrespectful. Coming from Chicago, where if you saw somebody that was gay you were supppoed to stay ten feet away. It should be time to break out of the intuitions that I was sayin', the steretypes, or the fear, the backlash that I would get if you don't believe in what I believe in, acceptin' people for who they are…they're very talented and if they do something special in the world and they're discriminated. I've flown across the world y'all, and I've come back here to tell you — open your minds and live a happier life…"

-Kanye West, as told to the audience at his Madison Square Garden performance August 5, 2008

sleep to dream

2008-07-31T02:40:00.002-04:00

i never used to be a troubled sleeper

my entire life
no matter what age
no matter what time i crawled into bed
i slept

i slept soundly, deeply even
dreams were a regular occurrence

dreams both realistic:
the type that when you wake
you're left disheartened it had all been just imagined
or grateful it was only in your mind

and fanciful dreams:
loopy mind trips through an indecipherable abyss

there were nights of lucidity
and also dull, lethargic, brain-dead slumber

but there was always sleep

it's been a new sensation
getting used to the physicality of tossing and turning
the never-ending movement of my monkey mind

at first i believed that perhaps
it had to do with not getting enough exercise

in the past
those few and far between nights
when i hadn't rested, log-like
it had often been a result of having spent the day
lazy, propped up, bored

but as of late
(while still no gym bunny)
i've been running regularly & weight training as well

it then dawned on me
that perhaps the pillows or the mattress were to blame
but both had been my nighttime bunkmates
for well over a year by now

so the feeling nagged on
like an itch just out of reach

something had shifted inside of me
deep inside, buried
something big was clearly wrong
as though i was no longer upright within myself

this realization hurt
because it was incorrect somehow
close, but just an inch or so off

like a shoe that didn't quite fit
it wasn't Me that felt wrong
but something bigger, something altered
both a part of myself yet removed from me as well

and like that, i knew
the muscle memory had formed an indentation in my bed
an indentation next to my boyfriend matt

two bodies
at rest side by side

my joints were unable to ease into this new configuration
just my mass beside the dog's
i'd become so used to sleeping next to him
that it had altered even the way i'd slept
before we'd ever met

this was shocking
to be slowly, steadfastly becoming a complete person again
by the light of day
only to be reminded nightly
of just how lost i was

my body's sheer inability to shut down
to disengage and recharge for another day

in the time since matt's death
that i've found myself in someone else's bed
or found someone else in mine
even without (at times) an awareness of his full name...

my eyes fall heavy
an intangible cocoon feeling becomes all-encompassing
our mini-universe is vibrant
but all in tones of deep blue and purple

the weight of a man beside me

it's not a vague internal need
like the desire for dessert or attention
but rather comes from regions unexplored
a mind-click, like alcoholism, that allows my heart to slow

it's bliss really
dreamy, drifting bliss
safety, not from the outside world
but from myself

the awareness that human life rests near
gives me just enough room to escape

the dark nights

2008-07-30T00:08:00.013-04:00

the dark nights, debaucherous

thursday:
a date that ends with me jumping from a moving taxi
heading up eighth avenue
as i ditch one young man for another
a new someone i'd just met a few hours before
a friend of a friend of a friend who'd been drinking with us...

friday:
a hot mess of vodka, photography
sexualized dancing & replenished bottle service
at a popular downtown uber club
the night concludes with me sticking my fingers down my throat
at the hollywood diner on sixth avenue...

saturday:
what should have been a cozy cocktail party at ryan's penthouse apt.
devolves into a hideous display of controlled substances & bad behavior
luckily, another friend and i find some solace talking well into dawn
with a group of disarmingly intelligent & courteous high school boys,
all members of a hardcore death metal band...

the weekends are given to us
at the end of every five day period

you only get what you put in.

as i sit amazed
(come tuesday and still recovering)
at an imax theatre beside my friend mark

utterly mesmerized by heath ledger's performance
as the joker in the film "the dark knight"

captivating, terrifying, bravery beyond words

now i can't seem to stop saying his line
"why so serious?"

it plays in my mind, pours from my lips
over and over again
ad nauseam
over and over again

filling me with great, hedonistic joy

"why so serious?"
"why so serious?"
"why so serious?"

him. again.

2008-07-18T00:21:00.010-04:00

i smear paint around
it's a mess

the hands forget

without practice
writing becomes difficult
painting becomes difficult

without practice
you lose everything

it seems dishonest to me
at the very least, misleading

that i come to this blog
in an attempt to write and share

but time and again
manage to avoid the truth
of the realities in my actual life

it's far too easy for me to write about
documentaries and churches
thoughts
fleeting moments in a day
hints and whispers

never getting at any actual events
of my time with friends
my time at work
my time in general

there was a man

for a short while there was a great man
who stepped in with the attempt
to bring me back to life

it was only five weeks
that jason and i were together

but sometimes five weeks is enough
for a person to leave his hand print
on your heart

those first baby steps
towards your future and your past

something new swept in
unexpected
unprepared
wonderful

but somehow
i couldn't figure out a way to write about it here
despite how strange it felt not mentioning it at all

i guess carrie bradshaw had it harder than i'd known...

but really
how do you get at the truth
of a budding relationship
when you're not sure how you feel yourself?

it wasn't meant to be
he and i
we figured that out together soon enough

but for a while it was fantastic
and there are no accidents

trust in the universe
it always finds a way to give you what you need
to move forward

stepping outside yourself
opening your eyes to a new person
it's a blessing

especially when that new person
is truly amazing

and double especially
when you've already had the privilege
of being blessed
before

mediocrity

2008-07-17T00:41:00.006-04:00

they say you'll never get rich
working for your boss

and that you'll never hit it big
without taking big risks

the dictionary defines the word "mediocre" as
1. ordinariness as a consequence of being average and not outstanding
2. a person of second-rate ability or value

mediocrity
i've become obsessed with this concept lately

is a life
in and of itself
mediocre?

if no one works for you or beneath you
if you can't afford trips to europe on the spur of the moment
if there isn't a camera following your every move

do you matter?

reality television has blurred
every line imaginable

instant fame
like soup
or messenger

a whole machine working behind your image
well, at least a concept of your image
a teeny sliver of your true identity

marketing
p.r.
media
the blogosphere
all talking about "YOU!"

for that instant you are alive
for that instant you are incontrovertibly alive
in. this. universe.

you are made alive by the fact
that people know you exist

certain cultures fear cameras
because they're said to steal your soul

but in today's time
at least in american culture
there are all too many of us willing to sell those souls
hell, give 'em away
without the guarantee of money, power
or even the tiniest semblance of control

then, like a drug, it sucks you in

watch donald trump if you need an example:
is there any conceivable reason why that man feels inclined
to step before a camera time and time again?

season after season of "the apprentice"
appearances on everything from qvc to world wrestling entertainment

systematically dismantling what had once seemed
a relatively legitimate businessman
showcasing a somewhat enviable way of life

i'll tell you it's not the money
that keeps trump coming back for more

it's the need to be seen
by the hordes of faceless strangers
sitting out there in the dark

and he is not alone.

but where does this phenomenon come from?
i think at this point
it's both nature and nurture

the desire to be seen
to stand out
is as ingrained in us as the desire to be thin

but what it might just really boil down to
is that on some level the camera makes us immortal

whether reality television
the movie screen
or our invaluable facebook pages

when we're visible we're forever
our bodies might wither and die but our image is permanent

the more photos we take
the more impossible we become to destroy

the more people are aware of us
on any level (even if we're despised)
the more impossible we become to destroy

and if your picture is everywhere
and the people in your universe can pick you out of a crowd
then mediocrity itself becomes an impossibility

it's like high school all over again
stand out, be important
or perish

even if you feel far below mediocre
deep down inside

the image remains
on paper
online
in the heads of everyone else

who can never really know you at all
unless you know yourself.

"ganja queen"

2008-06-30T23:59:00.002-04:00

"ganja queen"
on hbo

dear god
i don't think i've been this affected
by a documentary
in as long as i can remember

and i watch a shit-ton of documentaries

witness the story of schapelle corby
a 27 year old australian woman traveling to bali
on holiday with her family

and the ten pound bag of marijuana
that's discovered in her suitcase
upon their arrival

in indonesia
the penalty for drug smuggling
is execution by firing squad

the hell that schapelle is put through
during the circus that surrounds her trial
as carried out in a third world country
is arguably a fate worse than death

"ganja queen" is as riveting and harrowing a tale
as could ever have occurred
in real time
on this planet

it will shake you to the core
it will challenge your beliefs about justice
it will leave you forever changed

i cannot fully put into words
how hauntingly powerful this story is

find it any way you can on hbo
or hbo on demand

this is simply a film
that is not to be missed

church of the holy trinity

2008-06-24T01:20:00.005-04:00

a church
on the upper east side
magnificent

i stopped by last week
after a work out at the gym

originally wanting to just quickly peek inside
because it's where charlotte had married trey
on "sex and the city"

but upon my arrival
i was pleasantly surprised to find an episcopalian church
quite similar to the one i'd grown up in

but quiet
and cool, like wet stone
alive in a way few empty buildings are

as i entered the sanctuary i couldn't help but notice
the calm sunlight as it streamed through the
bafflingly beautiful stained glass

a flyer towards the back invited parishioners
to join both pastors and clergy atop the church float
for new york city's gay pride parade

a banner hanging near the entrance read
"we do not tolerate torture"

women with strollers sat in shadows
as their children enjoyed the afternoon sun

gardeners tended to the lush life
bursting in abundance all around them

a couple of homeless men slept inside
on unused church pews
no one seemed to mind at all

i'm certainly not a huge fan of organized religion
but the church of the holy trinity on 88th between 1st and 2nd
had certainly made its case

there was a spirit within the walls
amongst that garden
beyond those gates

but i think what moved me most within that space
was not the fact that i was in a church
or even the bible stories
depicted in the stained glass all around me

i was inspired by the beauty of a simple afternoon
the powerful artistry of architecture
and by people's profound ability to believe

from my point of view
a place of worship can be anywhere
but more often than not i feel a direct connect
within a theatre

earlier tonight i watched the movie "fame"
for the very first time ever in my life

jesus christ
is that movie thrilling beyond words

even now that every scene
seems both classic and cliched
i was moved as a viewer

but moved especially
because on some level i'd lived it

i'd lived it first as a child
daydreaming to the sound of the songs being played
on my parents' old record player

and then i lived it for real
as a drama major at new york university
smack dab in the center of it all

"out here on my own"
"i sing the body electric"
"is it okay if i call you mine?"

thrilling

having friends who'd gone to laguardia
high school of the performing arts
i'd always intended to see the movie

but somehow i had always imagined it'd be
a lot more of the dancing and singing on cars
and a lot less of the heart and the hurt
that comes with being an artist
just growing into yourself

it really hit home to me
a not so revolutionary but ultimately uplifting viewpoint
that some of us may be students of drama
or music
or dance

but we're all really just students of life
learning more and more each day
striving for something that feels bigger than ourselves
and going nowhere without the support
of the people all around us

we may not all live forever
but we're all alive right now

the age of reckoning

2008-06-22T20:46:00.009-04:00

this past saturday
as i sat with my dog on a beach towel
in the middle of central park

waiting for SEVEN hours to get tickets
to the public theater's production of "hamlet"

i had more than ample time
to people watch

so for seven hours
more or less
that's just what i did...

being that this is new york city
there was every age, color and variety on display

certainly plenty of other theatre folks
like myself
waiting in line

but also tons of moms and dads with strollers
business types wearing their best conservative casual chic
ladies on horseback, kids on bikes
and more joggers than one could have ever imagined

it's curious that out of all these people
the two that stood out most
were a father and son who were running together
just as naturally and casually as could be

there was nothing special
that i noticed
about the two of them

just a dad and a kid
on yet another saturday morning run

but here they were

and to me they seemed the perfect illustration
of time gone by

one had his looks
his youth
his hair

the other had intelligence
a world view
and priceless life experiences

i suppose i remember them now
because i was struck by the fact that
This Is The Payoff

as we get older we gain so much..
character, confidence, a richness of being
but in essence we lose ourselves

or at least we lose ourselves as reflected back to us

we lose the way we'd once looked to the world
and the way we'd once looked in the mirror

there's a quote from christopher hampton's play
"les liaisons dangereuses"
that "vanity and happiness are incompatible"

and the older i get
the more this seems to be true

we are at the mercy of time...
even at the prime age of twenty six
i'm cognizant of that fact

i don't look like i did at eighteen
but the day will come when i'll think to myself
that i don't look like i did at thirty

or at forty
or at fifty
and so on and so on

a life lived wishing for the impossible
is a doomed one

and i don't intend to lead a doomed existence

i believe
that the father and son
each has his own story to tell
his own experiences to discover

we can pass through this world
jogging side by side
surrounded by the lushness of nature

ever changing
ever evolving
ever growing old

but always alert to the fact
that this is our body
our shell

and not at all who we really are
inside...

Flight Down Memory Lane

2008-06-07T12:40:00.016-04:00

I stopped.

I stopped because I was procrastinating. Procrastinating to prepare myself for what the day held in store. It was in that moment of stillness that I turned to look out the bedroom window.

From across the alleyway I saw a pigeon sitting in the neighbor's flower pot, just beneath their windowsill. The bird shook its feathers, cooing and cawing. It was an insanely mundane sight. But I was flashed immediately back to my old apartment on Spring Street.

There I stood, an innocent at 23 years old, in the window of my former home, staring slack-jawed at my fire escape as a bird's nest appeared, twig by twig, another branch each day.

Perplexed, amazed, I'd become it's daily watchman. I hadn't yet seen an actual bird touch down. But the proof of her work was incontrovertible. A home was beginning to form.

It was truly a magic day when finally, finally... three tiny eggs arrived.

Over that sparkling summer a million things changed. Only one of which was witnessing the mother bird at last. Some time later, her babies hatched. That was just around the time that Matt arrived. But by Autumn both he and they were gone.

Only Matt returned that next summer, a Graduate from College, for what seemed to be forever... The birds, on the other hand, I never saw again.

It is now 2008 and summer arrives once more. As usual, it's gonna be a scorcher. I say, give me spring for eight months straight if possible. I could wander the streets of Manhattan in these temperate breezes until the end of time.

But as The Byrds themselves sang. "To everything- turn, turn, turn. There is a season- turn, turn, turn."

We all turn. We're turning as a culture. As a country. As a people. Each of us adapts to life's obstacles and barriers in our own way. In essence, each adapts to life itself.

I miss and don't miss that old bird's nest. I miss and don't miss my apartment on Spring Street. I miss and don't miss that time of ultimate innocence.

I'll always miss Matt. But I'm getting to the point where I no longer miss what we had. The destructiveness of being in love with an addict is bafflingly painful. And by the end, he seemed more in love with his addictions than with me.

There is no turning back the clock on life. We can return to streets and cities, but it will never be the same. It's because of this, I think, that we're so lucky for those little reminders, however fleeting or obscure.

A bird. Well, a pigeon I suppose, perching in a neighbor's flower pot. A vast expanse of memories. All mine. Washing in and out on the shore of consciousness, as impermanent as sand, a nest, the flap of a wing, sunlight, memories and life itself.

the month of may...

2008-05-31T23:08:00.007-04:00

the month of may
brought house guests
in hordes

mom and dad
lindsey from florida
my brother will & his girlfriend hannah

nearly every weekend
was booked solid with visitors
coming to enjoy these few blissful weeks of spring

luckily we managed to fit a lot in...

opening night of "les liaisons dangereuses" on broadway
cai guo-qiang's show at the guggenheim museum
new york city's AIDS walk
a midnight screening of "sex and the city"
roof parties and loft parties

brunch after brunch
followed by dinner after dinner

and sooo much more

june just won't feel the same without them
it'll be warmer, slower, with just a hint of "empty nest"

but then there's nothing quite like family and friends
to spring you back to life

"sex and the city"

2008-05-30T23:17:00.004-04:00

my god

sometimes stories come into our lives
that have the power to move us
beyond comprehension

they take us further
or touch us deeper
than we'd even dreamed possible

why this show?
why these characters?

if you had told me in 1999
that i'd fall in love with four
fictional middle aged women
on an hbo series

one of which was played
by that blonde witch from "hocus pocus"
i'd have said, "um, yeah, sure, I Don't Think Sooo"

but "sex and the city" is so much more
than just fashion or sex

it's the writing
the performances
the truth that's told with humor
and yes, those unbelievable clothes

see this movie
if you're one of the millions who hasn't already

it is sad
and gorgeous
fantastically unrealistic
and inspiring

it's new york

perhaps even a sliver of the heart
that beats in all of us

hardened a bit, but open and raw
always ready for experience
up to any challenge

and madly in love with love

stage fright-mare

2008-05-23T09:43:00.006-04:00

i often awake from a dream
aware, nervous
groggy but slightly panicked

the details of the dream are always different
but the scenario remains the same

a theatre, packed
as i stand in the wings of the stage
just peeking out at the crowd

i am about to go on
the costumes, scenery, details of my character and audience size
are never the same

but the reality is
i'm moments from stepping onto that stage
and i feel totally, utterly unprepared

it's a sort of phantom pain
the sensation or memory of a lost limb

i have not been on stage in years
but the dreams are as real as ever

in that time since my last play in 2004
i've worked regularly in commercials & featured work on film
but all the burly crew guys in the world
standing, waiting, watching
can't add up to even a pinch of the anxiety in knowing
that you're about to step before an audience
unsure within yourself

i often wonder about anxiety
what good it does, if any?

the damage caused by that racing heart
the heightened awareness that your shoulders have gone tense
how unavoidably unnecessary it is to pace and sweat

i suppose for some it gets worse the older they get
once the seriousness of life sets in
once a kind of now or never pressure makes itself clear

for me it's lessened greatly
though the dreams persist
and i find myself relishing in the new comfort
within my own skin

dreams, i think, can hold a mirror up
to all the different facets of our lives
reflecting on corners of our deeper selves
we didn't know were there

a dream tells a story
but not necessarily the obvious one

i'm panicked
about to step on stage

but the truth is that i'm not in a play right now
and have never been in one when i WASN'T fully prepared
so the dream is both irrational and untrue

irrational, untrue
but continuous and ultimately unavoidable

because of that
i'm reminding myself to always be prepared
to breathe deeply & take in every moment, especially the scary ones
to be brave
and to never truly fear other people

it's a process
until i lay my head down again

the scar

2008-05-08T17:06:00.010-04:00

beware of bathroom doors
at the restaurant park avenue spring

that's all i'm sayin'
before we begin

under different circumstances
filtered through another lens
i'm sure this story could be woven into a witty, self aware fable
about getting up again
when life, quite literally, slaps you cross the face

but i'm not too sure i'm that writer
or if this is even that time

all i know
is that after four stitches and excessive bruising
the area just beside my left eyebrow
is finally beginning to heal

i suppose i should blame marco...
my amazingly talented magician co-worker
who months ago got me phobic
of bathroom door handles

i don't touch them anymore
try not to, anyway
and predominantly because of him
& our detailed conversations about germs

so, as i was leaving this beautiful bathroom
at the restaurant park avenue spring

i gripped the bathroom door handle while still holding the hand towel
then quickly turned to throw the towel into the bin
when suddenly, BAM!
as i turned
i was pounded in the face by an incredibly heavy door

it didn't hurt
adrenaline must have set in

but instantly, blood
everywhere

and little old me
shocked, confused, a bit frightened
tip toeing towards the coat check
hand over face, hunched over
asking for a band aid

looong story short
it took a lot more than a band aid

what it took was a night with my dad in the emergency room
my parents were luckily
(if unfortunately for them)
in town at the time

and then a return to the e.r. five days later
to have the stitches removed
by a bleach blonde hospital employee
who looked almost exactly like matt

as if the entire situation had occurred
so that this exact moment could present itself

i could hear in my head...

"This is what your life could have been..."
"Visiting the hospital to see your doctor boyfriend..."
"Instead of visiting the hospital..."
"To have a surrogate stranger cut thread from your face..."

but, it was sad
because i see a lot of people that remind me of matt
he's almost everywhere to me

but this was a young man
probably just starting out his residency at mount sinai
essentially living the life that matt will never lead

and really
HOW MANY MEN
OVER THE AGE OF TWELVE
STILL HAVE COMPLETELY NATURAL BLEACH BLONDE HAIR?
honestly! maybe fifty?!

so here i am today
still healing

i told you this story wouldn't be funny
but maybe another day i'll tell it differently

that's the beauty of life, i suppose
it can always be remixed, remastered

only we own our pasts

and only we can own the scars that mark them

rufus, rufus, rufus

2008-04-30T23:44:00.006-04:00

sometimes talent astounds

a man
alone on stage
with just the piano for certain songs
and his guitar for others

his mother accompanies him
during the second of his two encores

playing "somewhere over the rainbow"
as her son takes his rightful place
bathed in light

chills
spingle, as rosie calls it
spine - tingle

from the mid balcony of carnegie hall
hand in hand with matt
to the front row of the bergenPAC theatre
in englewood, new jersey

the rufus wainwright concert

jan, my best friend's mom, invited me
"ONLY DIE HARD RUFUS FANS ALLOWED!"
i was informed
"ASHLEY'S NOT INVITED!"

we waited afterwards
jan & i
like teens outside the stage door
of the monkees, tiffany or hannah montana

jan, a gorgeous grandmother
and little old me
both bubbling over with excitement

just amazed and grateful to have been there

there's really nothing like live performance
theatre, concert, conversation even

life happens in the present
"there is no future, there is no past"

try to be there
in every moment

it's easy if you try

just be aware that, "i'm here now"
in this time
at this place

plastered to the chair
transfixed
unable to move a muscle
moved beyond comprehension
by this singer, by the songwriter, by this song

you can dream a moment
listening to music on the floor of your childhood bedroom

and it can really, truly happen
under entirely different circumstances than you'd planned
but happen
in one crystalized moment

a lifetime forward
a lifetime away

a new earthling

2008-04-19T17:56:00.008-04:00

i did a l'oreal commercial

there was an actor playing a photographer
myself playing his assistant
and linda evangelista

just the three of us
on a not so impressive soundstage in brooklyn

i sat in my dressing room
alone
for over 8 hours before i was called to set

in that 8 hours
i read
ate craft service
wandered briefly out into the sunshine
and slept on one of the couches provided

it was all in all
a job like any other
but somehow, so much more particularly awful

being that it was for l'oreal
the vast majority of the higher-ups were french
and wandered past my door all day
engaging loudly and self-importantly with each other
glaring in at me
but never so much as saying hello

there was a production assistant who was sort of my wrangler
and i attempted conversation with the other actor
despite the fact that he was in a separate dressing room

but for the most part i existed in silence
save for the occasional vibrate of my phone
for the entirety of the day

linda evangelista
it can be said
lived up to every prejudice imaginable
vaguely cold
highly aloof
and certainly using at most 14% of her brain capacity

she flirted habitually with the other actor
refused to look at the p.a. when he offered her water
and when asked to improvise an interview scene
that didn't record her voice, only the image of her talking
she opted to spout out
"YES, I LOVE BEING ME!"
"I CONSIDER IT TO BE A PRIVILEGE AND AN HONOR!"
"I AM REALLY AND TRULY AMAZING!"
"I LOOOVE BEING ME!"

out of any and every possible option
THAT is what she chose to say

ugggghh

i left the set emotionally drained and volatile
upon returning to my apartment i kicked the door
and shouted at my dog

it was certainly not the most rewarding day
on location

many moons later
after a fantastic afternoon in the heart of the city

as the sun began to set
and i said goodbye to a friend
i descended the steps of a train near times square
on my short ride home

it was expectedly uneventful
until we'd gone a couple of stops
and a boy entered
announcing himself somewhat shyly but loudly
to the train

he was walking through the subway
reciting poems that he'd written himself
for the riders to listen to
if they so chose

he was black, very dark, purple almost
the bravery he possessed, astounding
reciting his story
with a quiet, inward assurance

i gave him a dollar
HAD to give him something, anything

the second he announced
"i will be reciting two poems that i wrote myself"
immediately, my hand darted for the wallet

he was doing this for money
walking through the train and announcing himself
the same way others sing, do gymnastics or beg
making money, of course, was the point

but poetry?
that he had written himself?
i had never in my life seen this on the trains of new york city
and from a child no older than 14
i was quite simply bowled over

does art come out of dire straits?
out of extreme circumstances?
yes, yes it does

hip hop is art
rap has a real message

a boy
alone on the train
reciting the poems that begin to tell his story
starting to chip away at the layers of pain
revealing the truth inside

and all this happened
after a drunken sunday with jenny on the upper west side

i cannot even begin to imagine living in the suburbs
cities are the lifeblood, the pulse of who we are

all jammed together
so many utterly astounding lives

even when it involves an out-of-touch supermodel
experience is absolutely everywhere

"the young one starts to paint"

2008-04-15T14:52:00.003-04:00

spring, my god

i used to be afraid of the sun
long, long ago

something about the rain
the overcast days
felt comforting
you could hide in a coat and umbrella

i could see the appeal of seattle

but now
wowza, there is nothing like these first warm days

i love it
and yet have to sometimes force myself to join in
it must be easier with roommates

you either always have someone to roam with
or always have someone to run from

either way you're outdoors

for me, my home has always been a kind of sanctuary
even in dorm life, i would nest

so it's sometimes a struggle to get out of the house
when there's always t.v.
when you don't have a backyard
when you know you'll have to spend money out there somewhere

today
i took the dog to central park
the most beautiful, peaceful area
less than five minutes from my front door

she bounced
i walked
she wandered
i read

there was a bunny on a leash
this confused her greatly

it's something
that park
and 100% free

life's going on for me
birthday parties downtown
sleepovers at friend's places
phone calls late into the night

i feel a little silly writing about it
but i went to another rosie book signing

i'd painted her
and wanted to give her the result

she took it
we talked
and later she mentioned this in her blog

life does feel different
once it's happened

i'm reading eckhart tolle's "a new earth"
i really can't recommend it enough

"Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment."

two yoga classes
and a meditation seminar this weekend

i'm getting there

"private" service announcement

2008-04-05T02:37:00.004-04:00

i express myself
supposing that i just can't help it

there is a need
in some
to get out what's inside

holding it in
feels more than impossible
it feels unsafe

restraint
understanding
the ability to truly listen
comes with age

hopefully we learn
that what's inside of us
isn't always valid to everyone else
and that sometimes keeping yourself to yourself
is best

but
listening is the key
not just hearing
really listening...

i had an interaction recently
with a member of my family

it was unplanned, random, brief
(and worst of all, happened over the telephone)
the situation involved me trying to make him feel stupid
for watching "dancing with the stars"
which i consider to be, perhaps, the root of all evil

i was trying to make a point that
like most reality t.v.
this particular show is a diversion from the fact that we are at war

now, it wasn't the first time i've said this
nor will it likely be the last
but it was the first time i'd brought the topic up to this person
in months
so, i was somewhat surprised to hear his response

"you've got to get over this obsession."
"what obsession?" i replied
"your obsession with this war."

o.k. let's back up just a bit

first of all
i'm a hypocrite
i'm totally a hypocrite for even beginning to judge someone else's
decision to watch
"dancing with the stars"
"american idol"
"wheel of fortune"
or endless professional and collegiate sports coverage

when i myself read perez hilton religiously
while recording
"project runway"
"the l word"
and "real world/ road rules challenges"

certainly we all need distractions
in times of war or peace

but what i have a problem with
is that so many americans act as if we aren't at war

as if over 4,000 american soldiers aren't dead
as if we haven't already spent well over $508,505,000,000
as if we haven't been in iraq longer than it took to fight the civil war or either of the world wars

we are very much a nation at war
and will be paying the cost of that fact for the rest of our lifetimes

paying that cost in dollars and cents by the billions
paying that cost in hospitals for soldiers who return damaged on the inside or out
paying that cost in our destroyed standing as leaders of the free world
paying that cost in the countless new terrorists we've created by occupying a nation that never attacked us
paying that cost in broken families across the globe

i for one believe in the bumper-sticker wisdom that "war is nothing more than terrorism with a bigger budget"
that war should ALWAYS be a last resort
that our soldiers should never be sent into harm's way unless there are no other options

and that, fundamentally, "dancing with the stars" is somehow, inexplicably evil
(ok i may be joking a little bit on that one)

but seriously
we are a universe in love with our television sets
lord knows, that if there is any addiction in my life presently
t.v. would be it

but if we're going to be watching
there is SO MUCH more to see
"intervention" on a&e
"real time with bill maher" on hbo
"frontline" and their two night series "bush's war" on pbs
hell, even the first thirty minutes of "the view" can be illuminating
and just today, oprah did an amazing piece on puppy mills and humane animal treatment

there is war coverage
and other things to take our minds away
the two can and should exist harmoniously

i don't know
i guess to the outside observer i can seem a tiny bit obsessed with this war
but it honestly doesn't feel that way to me

i haven't lost a brother or a sister or a cousin or a friend
i haven't returned from combat dazed, lost, ecstatic or harmed

i'm just a person who wants it to be over
who realized a long time ago that this war could not be won
who wants the world to be safe, or safer, but knows this isn't the way

i think the truest form of patriotism
in times like these
is to keep the soldiers in your hearts
to scream and fight on the behalf of each of them
to not forget, like so many others, that they are still in harm's way

even more, i think the truest form of humanity
is to think about every living soul in that region of the world
each one precious
each one deserving of peace

THE VIDEO BELOW IS A MUST WATCH
LESS THAN A MINUTE AND A HALF
I'VE HAD IT ON MY MYSPACE PAGE FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS
IT CHANGES EVERYTHING.

Interview with Dick Cheney (1994)

2008-04-05T02:36:00.001-04:00

rosie and me

2008-03-31T23:11:00.002-04:00

(originally written in an email sent on october 9, 2007)

it may not have been the first time
i met or spoke with rosie

heck, it wasn't even the first time i took a picture with her

but nevertheless
today
at about 2:00 pm
i had my first REAL "talk"
with the human who has most influenced my life
without ever being in it

we talked about matt
about his tragedy
and about the thousand pic collage on my walls in arkansas

i thanked her
for what she'd written to a woman whose child had died in her arms

"in faith
in the memory
u carry on"

and told her also
that she'd altered the course of my life completely

then she actually thanked me
told me she got it
the collages and the need
"i used to do that too," she chuckled

she mentioned just how young i looked
and handsome
asked me how old i might be...
"25," i whispered
"just a baby," she replied

she stared into my eyes
deep
i tried to keep the contact
fought looking at the floor

it's hard to meet that person
celebrity or otherwise
alone
one on one
after dreaming the moment for half your life

today it came
that time when i could briefly tell my story
make an impact
a small impression on her heart

connection
always the goal

she said "you remind me of that tobey macguire"
"yeah, i get that" i dry-mouth whispered.. "both him and robert downey jr."

"no, more tobey macguire, i think" she replied
looking for that innate goodness
the superhero
unable to see the demons
lurking just below the surface

it was brief i guess
but an eternity

a minute or two
and it was through

she looked at me
deep
and i moved her
i felt it, the soul-quake
with matt and me
love, loss and loneliness

the heart can swell to unspeakable sizes
and soar to impossible heights

if you let it
the heart can swell and grow

when i thanked her for what she'd written

"in faith
in the memory
u carry on"

i also informed her that upon reading it
i'd smiled for perhaps the first real time since matt's death
and knew i'd be alright

"you will be" she said
"you will"

and in no small part
because of her

doubt(full) thinking

2008-03-24T13:46:00.007-04:00

i think i've lost my voice

nothing
i repeat nothing
seems worth writing about

at least
not worth writing about on the internet
for everyone to read

there's probably nothing worse in writing
than self-involved
navel-gazing
and that, i fear, is what this has devolved into

when i started writing this blog
on october 22, 2005
to attempt an experiment in writing every single day
for an entire year

it was to document
to set down memories and experiences
i likely would have otherwise forgotten

but it also felt
at the same time
that i was saying something
that others could essentially relate to

that i was saying something
in essence
for everyone

but ever since matt's death
he's kind of all i want to write about
so when push comes to shove
and when fingers meet keyboard
i usually, often do

i don't know
cause it's not like that in real life
i don't regularly burden my friendships with sordid tales
of a love gone horribly awry

we laugh
we party
we drink
we socialize
we have sexual encounters
we meet great, interesting new friends

we simply fucking live

and, when i started this experiment
that's what i would have written

that's STILL what my life is today
not matt
who's unfortunately no longer here
who i technically wasn't even dating at the time of his death

i think i've lost my voice
because
i don't want to inflict this mess
on anyone else

i don't believe that others should have to feel the longing
to call someone who will never answer again
(especially if he was the first person on your speed dial)
just to talk
across state lines
about politics, work or reality t.v.

the british singer corinne bailey rae
known to lily allen as corinne "boring" rae
apparently had a husband
and that husband apparently died of a drug overdose
this past weekend

when i first read the news this afternoon
(catching up on my perez hilton)
i immediately thought
"my god. how sad"
"that must be so awful for her, and of course so tragic for him"

but my next thought was
"well, her next album is going to be AMAZING"

it's different
somehow easier
to navel-gaze
to be self-involved
to moan about heart-ache and loss
when you're doing it in song

there's something about a melody
and chorus
or a hook
that instantly turns the difficult, or the uber-personal
into art made for the masses

it's harder here
for a young writer like myself
to convey what's happening in my life
and my head

because it shouldn't make sense
that out of all the experiences in the week
that out of all the times i've laughed or all the stories i've been told
that out of all the LIFE experiences i've engaged in

when i sit down in front of the powerbook g4
my mind just races towards "him"

i'm sorry
that i can't put this into song
more often than not i wish i could

but
maybe
it might help
if you play a little something
instrumental
in the background
as you sort through the rubble that remains

radio. enters. me.

2008-03-16T23:41:00.012-04:00

sunday
a mcdonald's
near times square
vaguely depressed
just vaguely
like rainy sunday afternoon depressed
but with headache to boot
i'm at the mcdonald's
because i'm seeing a show in an hour & a half
i spent far too much on dinner the night before
and the new york sports club on 48th and 6th
(which i'd planned to work out at before the performance)
is inexplicably closed
so of course my mind goes
well
if the gym is closed
i might as well eat filet-o-fish
with fries, a diet coke and three cookies
two chocolate chip
one oatmeal
(all of which i'll save for later)
makes sense right?
so here i am
alone
on the third floor of an exceptionally crowded
mickey d's
slightly, vaguely depressed
with an hour and a half to kill
just eating my junk
when from the sound system i hadn't even noticed was on
r.e.m. sweeps in from out of nowhere
to momentarily save my life
"at my most beautiful"
an obscure song choice
particularly for the largest chain restaurant
in the universe
because this song is small
tiny, really
from their album "up"
which is pretty much genius
and when the song comes on
on and upward
out of the abyss
gorgeous
achingly so
i feel for a moment like i'm maybe in this time & place for a reason
that perhaps there just might be a plan at work
i mean, there has to be
it's a sunday afternoon
brunch time
and i could be a million different places
at pastis with a group of six
(if i hadn't spent so much the night before)
or an investment banker, a doctor, a lawyer
should be any of these, perhaps
but i'm not
because i can't be
and for the moment i'm just here
trying to figure it all out in my own way
about to see the broadway show "passing strange"
about another artist's journey towards himself
it's crazy just how comfortable i am
comfortable, and lucky
that i can even have the opportunity
to reflect
to moan
to simply be depressed
instead of hungry
or unhealthy
or torn apart by war
yeah, i'm fucking lucky
but somehow
still as lost as ever
as the rain keeps vaguely falling
and the headache keeps vaguely throbbing
while the gym stays completely closed
i may be lost
but, for now i'll just sit
taking it all in

the boston day trip

2008-03-10T00:43:00.011-04:00

the boston day trip
$15 each way
how could you resist?

we went for lindsey
matt's best friend
who's up from florida to visit
for the umpteenth time
thank god

she'd never been to beantown
and i've not been back since i was in high school
touring colleges campuses

my friend chris richards (the one and only)
was in the city visiting his friend sarah

so we made a day of it

a full twelve hours spent in someone else's neck of the woods
just sitting back and letting it take you where it does
as others generously make the plans

who knew
that bostonians were the nicest people on earth?
bafflingly, confusingly so

every single person we encountered
was beyond kind
courteous, helpful & hospitable

from 7 am
when lindsey and i caught the bus from new york
to 4:30 the next morning
when the two of us stumbled back into my apartment
it was a great day

boston
i had no idea?
ya learn something new every day

leaps and bounds

2008-02-29T22:56:00.011-05:00

the end of another month
a blog is due

unable to hold myself to writing
exactly
once a week

i try
to ROUGHLY fit one in

so, here it goes...

it's been a difficult 29 days to get past
and with leap year
i believe it's like bill maher says
"if there's one thing we don't need more of...
it's february"

-valentine's day
two years ago i was in florida with matt
one year ago i had just traveled to london alone
this year i'm simply getting by

-matt's birthday on february 8th
that 24th birthday he somehow never lived to see
a date his family and i have been dreading since his death
like the rest of him, come and gone

-and then there's the cold
hell, i'm ready to move past that too

survival of the fittest
feels more like survival of the least prepared

i shot an mtv promo
for the band one republic last week
at a medieval times restaurant
somewhere in new jersey

it was a LOOOONG
and very disorganized day
but somehow completely worth it

if you're not familiar with the medieval times premise
it's essentially dinner and a show
housed in a giant arena
with jousting, horse tricks, pre-rehearsed battles
and food without silverware
(you know, just like those real medievals did it)

i hadn't stepped foot in one of these tacky "dining" establishments
in years
so was completely shocked at how excited it got me

over the course of the day
(as usual) there was a lot of time to kill
so i snuck in to watch some of the rehearsals
for that evenings performance

long haired jersey boys on horseback
with faux british accents

and replacement princesses
who would stop mid-speech
when they'd forgotten their lines

"Good Day Fair Sir! It Will Be Of Greatest Pri-vi-lege!"
would be announced
in sing-song, scenery-chewing, brit-esque verse

but immediately followed by
"NEOW HOOLD UP DE-AH, IS MUY LOIN FE-AH SIR? O-UH FE-AH MISTAH?"
in an unmistakable jersey whine

it
was
mesmerizing

some TEN HOURS later
when that evening's performance had actually begun
i snuck back inside
just in time to catch The Official Medieval Times Falconer

a bearded man
in full chain-mail attire
with a REAL LIVE FALCON trained to fly around the massive space

over and over
the falcon flew above our heads

no net
no leash
no guarantee he wouldn't dive into any one of those alluring jersey hair-do's
or fly straight through the exit, never to be seen again

time after time
the falcon cut through the air

it was his moment
he was an actor bird, and this was his greatest scene

i for one, was enthralled
and grateful to share the space with such a dedicated performer

in flight
this magic circus bird made me smile
brought me back to myself
reminded me that you can inspire
anyone
anywhere

even a bird can do it

even a bird
at a medieval times restaurant, of all places
on just another ice cold day
at the very end of february

for tonight and always...

2008-02-26T00:54:00.009-05:00

space
the final frontier

it's amazing the excuses we make to ourselves
i say "we" because, certainly,
i can't be the only one

space
is an issue for me

if i had more of it
i could write
if i had more of it
i could really concentrate

i tell myself that it would be impossible
to do the impossible
to write a book
from the desktop in my small one bedroom apartment
amongst all the distractions of new york

excuses, excuses
i'm here writing now, aren't i?
all you need is a computer and a somewhat quiet space

hell, jean-dominique bauby
only needed his left eyelid
and the vast expanses of his imagination
to write what would be his opus

we can't all escape to italy
the woods
or our beach house
to get out what's inside of us

and we may never get away
from what is truly un-get away-able

but we persevere
two steps forward, two steps back

i "lost" my first oscar last night

granted, i'm saying this with a grin
and in the loosest sense of the word "my"

but the film "across the universe" was nominated for best costumes
and i did in fact wear one of those (MANY) garments on-screen

i wrote about it HERE some time ago
and it's fun to go back and re-visit those nights
to look at the wonder in my eyes
after stepping onto a film set for the very first time

the magic of the movies
now THAT'S one place we all can escape to

in these harsh grey months before spring arrives
it's difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel
difficult to leave the house some days, if you don't have to

but inspiration comes from everywhere
both high brows and low

"the diving bell and the butterfly"
one of the most moving pieces of cinema or art
you're ever likely to experience

a testament to the power of the human mind
the human heart
and the human will

to carry on in spite of unimaginable obstacles

but lately, it's not just films
but the whole world that's inspiring me
from the sight of my dog in the snow
after another drunken opening night on broadway
to the shattering and unexpected warmth of a friends support at work
and from the artistry of kanye west
to simple paint on canvas

it has even crept in
at the moment when porn star mary carey
learns she's still that eight year old ballerina
who isn't dirty
who isn't addicted
who dances because it fills her with unquestioning joy

all in front of the cameras
on (of all places) vh1's "celebrity rehab"

the dark, cold days of winter
seem to have gone on for ages this year

it's been a winter i'm proud to have survived

but this earth only spins forward
and the sun sets a little later every night

we're headed for our moments in the sun
i can feel it

February 5th, 2008

2008-02-05T22:47:00.000-05:00

super tuesday
god, there's nothing quite like the thrill
of making your american voice
be heard

this has been as important an election
as those alive today are likely to ever experience
and we've all got a front row seat

i know how exciting it's been for me

long, endless talks with friends and relatives
detailing the latest debate
up-to-the-minute polls
and the ever shifting tides of support and criticism

as heidi says
"one day you're in and the next day, you're out"

i've been supporting hillary for some time now
it's just a feeling
electric

she moves me
when she speaks i smile
her brains
her passion
the experience i feel others lack
the fact that she's dedicated her life to public service

i feel her love for this country
for us
for all americans
and i know she would be the leader
we all, deep down, dream of

we shall see
like i said, it's an exciting year

as of late
barack has moved me in ways he hadn't before
he too would make an amazing leader of the free world
and if it's him that gets the nomination
i will throw my support behind obama 100%

there's certainly something to be said
for ending the bush-clinton reign over this country
that if hillary were elected
and then re-elected
would go on for an unbelievable 28 YEARS

"CHANGE" is definitely needed
but i put my faith
in the kind of change that only she can bring

it was an odd sensation
on super-duper tuesday

after voting in the primaries
i headed to the apple store
before work
to finally, FINALLY replace the ipod that had broken
nearly a full year ago

on my way west
from the 59th street station
i passed a young-lady holding a "hillary" sign
urging those who hadn't yet, to get out there and vote

she was also holding a sizable amount of pamphlets and literature
and had a few hillary buttons attached to her bag
i asked if she had an extra button
& she told me no, but that she'd love to give me a hillary sticker

so i took one
said thank you
and headed towards "mac"ca with the sticker on my coat

but i was surprised
at the odd sense of vulnerability i felt
by so blatantly endorsing a candidate

almost like a naked in public feeling
these street-strangers could see inside of me
they knew at first glance who i'd voted for
and in turn
what kind of an america i innately believed in

i was highly aware
of what black men might think
or women
hell, anybody for that matter
pro or con

because without fail
every, single person who passed by
would (poker-faced) glance at the sticker
directly in front of my heart

and then (poker-faced)
without fail
immediately glance up at me

i could hear them, their thoughts
this is who that person is
we don't know who
or how
we don't know where he comes from

but he's young and white
a new yorker
who supports hillary clinton
and is headed somewhere fast

friday the first.

2008-02-02T01:04:00.000-05:00

friday night

a surprise

the plan was to go home
save money
not spend

there are many things happening
saturday
sunday
and so on

so i was happy to spend friday night alone

the surprise came
when instead, i ended up asking a co-worker
i'd been awkwardly talking to for weeks
if he felt like getting a drink

"sure"
i believe was his reply
immediate
instant

drinks turned into dinner
at a greek restaurant in midtown

not romantic
not sexual even
and certainly not the first great night i've shared since matt died
by any means

but
different somehow
more alive than recent memory

maybe just because it was someone BRAND NEW

at this point
i'm used to making excuses
for reasons why i need to head home

there's always the dog
exhaustion
or a commercial to shoot the next morning

but tonight
miracle of miracles

with no ulterior motives
and absolutely no desire to get in his pants
i didn't want to go home alone

there were movies
and wine
plus more conversation to share

the time to part just didn't feel ready

my co-worker
jonathan
ended up saying, after many hours together
that he
in fact
did need to get home

which was absolutely 100% o.k. by me

it was those past few hours that had mattered
savoring talking to someone new
loving how hard i'd had to WORK
just getting him to open up

maybe it was the wine we shared
glass after glass of it

but it reminded me of life
and particularly the fact
that i'm still living it

i got home
to my dog
where we went on her walk

& some time later
as chris garneau sang
i bounced one of my dog's many tennis balls

up and down
up and down, it went

and with each rise and fall
she lept
euphoric in the desire
the belief
the knowledge
that, in time, that ball would be hers

belief

in the ball
in the knowledge that you'll catch it
in time

up and down it went
and i smiled, as saturday morning began

for hope enters
and rises and falls

but stays, in the end, for good.

"mountain" peaks and valleys

2008-01-31T23:01:00.000-05:00

i watched "brokeback mountain" tonight

my god

had i only known
sitting there
in that movie theatre
in the kips bay area of new york
at 9:55 p.m.
on december 30th, 2005

that i was surrounded by so much death

i just don't know
that any of us
could have possibly carried on

i have the movie ticket
it tells me when i attended the film
and where

i certainly remember that it was with matt

but i can't quite remember
if he sat to the right of me
or to the left

it was to the right of me, i think
to the right of me, "i swear"

ennis lives but jack dies
jake lives but heath dies
chris lives but matt dies

and the earth just keeps on spinning

at one point in the film tonight
jack and ennis kiss
deep, hungry
famished even
real

i laughed out loud, watching it
uncomfortable
ecstatic

i wanted to rewind the dvd
and watch their bodies fill with joy
over and over again

but there's no rewinding life
so i let the movie play on

there's a lot of smoking in "brokeback"
and despite more or less quitting years ago
watching them, i needed a cigarette
bad

so i went downstairs to my neighbor friends
to 'borrow' one

and when i got back upstairs
i reached for a matchbook
the first one i saw in the drawer

sardi's
the theatre restaurant in times square

a matchbook i'd grabbed
after the last meal that matt and i shared

memories like land mines

everywhere
unannounced

ennis says to jack..
heath says to jake..
matthew says to chris..
& chris says to matt..

"it's because of you that i'm like this. i'm nothin'. i'm nowhere."

the movie ends
and the earth just keeps on spinning

lost, loved, gone

2008-01-27T23:53:00.000-05:00

"Heath ledger just died."

i sent the text to a large group of friends and family members
just before 5:00 p.m. last tuesday
shocked
baffled
images, questions
shape-shifting in my mind

and then came their replies

"Really? How?"
"I know. It's spreading like wildfire. OD. Sad."
"I heard. That is nuts."
"What the fuck? brad renfro just died too."
"How?"
"That's horrible. What drug?"
"I heard sux."
"Really?"
"Omg"
"What! How?"

and so on
and so forth

it kind of makes no sense
how much a thing like this can affect us

when asked on her blog
if it was weird to be sad for someone you've never met
rosie o'donnell replied

"not weird at all
he will be river for todays teens
james dean to r parents
it is a national pain
many feel"

but

but

it is almost too raw for some
so finite
so forever

death, at one point
though terrifying
seemed almost wondrous to me

scandal
awe
interest
attention
ATTENTION above all
even love

finally it's all about you

but as john donne wrote so eloquently
"death, be not proud"

and lord it isn't

heath's body
so small atop that gurney
as wheeled out of 421 broome street
surrounded by strangers, gawkers, the blinding blaze of flashbulbs

god
he's so alone, i thought
i know it's just a shell
but his body is so alone

with his family in australia
michelle in sweden
and his friends god knows where

naked
face down
at the foot of the bed
with pills scattered about

no chance to defend himself
no chance to say
"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! BELIEVE ME PLEASE! PLEASE, PLEASE BELIEVE ME!"
"I WOULD NEVER DO THIS TO MY BODY ON PURPOSE! I WOULD NEVER ABANDON MY CHILD!"
"LET ME EXPLAIN MYSELF! GOD, PLEASE! LET ME COME BACK AND TRY!"

you learn
in death
just how final it is

i've been haunted daily with the memories of things my boyfriend matt will never do again

& never is a hard concept to grab hold of
when you have no other choice

but the similarities between the two relationships continue to baffle me

chris and matt:
a two year relationship
time together, time apart
a shared home
the picture of idyllic bliss
struggle
drugs
a separation
continued contact
continued love
more struggle
and four months after the break
matt dies
suddenly, sordidly
heard snoring a few hours before the end
with pills nearby
but no immediate answers as to why or how
speculation
confusion
and grief beyond grief

michelle and heath:
a three year relationship
time together, time apart
a shared home
the picture of idyllic bliss
struggle
drugs
a separation
continued contact
continued love
more struggle
and four months after the break
heath dies
suddenly, sordidly
heard snoring a few hours before the end
with pills nearby
but no immediate answers as to why or how
speculation
confusion
and grief beyond grief

i had been upset about brad renfro
heath's death has taken me to an even darker place
their faces run through my mind
constantly

but
where does the anger go in times like these?
is there actually anyone to blame?

is it the addicts who feel they NEED to medicate?
the pharmaceutical companies who manufacture drugs so easily abused and dangerous when combined?
the doctors who over-prescribe time and again?

i feel the same way about prescription medication
as i do about guns

THEY ARE FAR TOO EASY TO OBTAIN
AND FAR. TOO. FUCKING. DANGEROUS.

i had thought
during those glazed-over weeks following matt's death
that i wanted some celebrity to die
that i REALLY wanted some famous person to perish
as a wake up call
to the drug lords
the slime doctors
and the kids who just need help

i had thought it would be britney
or amy winehouse

and i was perfectly willing
hopeful even
at the thought of hearing they'd passed on
because all i knew was that SOMETHING HAD TO CHANGE

but now
there is only sadness
and no death feels warranted, justified, good

plus, what have we learned?
if any blame will be placed it'll go to mary kate olsen
or the masseuse who (gasp!) wasn't a licensed massage therapist
or some other innocent bystander caught in this web

divert
divert
divert

don't get mad at the accessibility of dangerous medications
because, believe it or not, the drug companies are more powerful than an olsen
and not nearly as fun to write about

i miss matt
and somehow brad and heath

this world takes so violently
so suddenly

and we're left here to carry on
shattered
cracked
forever altered

yet somehow,
somehow
forever grateful for their lives

Matthew Steven LaRoche
February 8, 1984 - September 22, 2007

Brad Barron Renfro
July 25, 1982 - January 15, 2008

Heathcliff Andrew Ledger
April 4, 1979 - January 22, 2008

tonight.

2008-01-18T00:34:00.000-05:00

it's raining outside.
the clock has turned to 12.

i am 26 years old now.
i am now
26

why are birthdays so hard for some of us?
i long to get to the root.

that grey has settled in again.
i don't blame january.
or work, entirely.
or people.
or even matt's death.

it's all that
but none of it too.

you feel it
like in the commercials
that ache
hollow
the lethargy
the inability to act
the hope that's sucked away

pendulums swing
roller coasters rise and fall
clocks tick on

things will improve
i know
you have to feel the blue to know the yellow
you have to weather night before a dawn

it's midnight and then some
my birthday morning has begun

i could be out
should be out, rather

the option to engage is nearly always there
it's just on us to accept it's invitation

the other night
i waited for the train to come
having just missed it, watching it speed by
i cursed myself
for staying that extra couple of minutes to talk to co-workers
for not having walked at a quicker pace
for whatever the fuck

i stood there
cold
underground
tense and raging

before the miracle occurred

JAZZ

a saxophone
music from above
skyward, heavenly
wafting through the subway grates

from the hotel lobby?
a merchant's boombox?
some street musician hoping for change?

a new york city miracle

jazz
long and smooth
rich, deep, sad, full, gorgeous

for three full minutes
before the next train came

there are no accidents
not in life
and not in public transport either

tonight
at work
fuming, confused by the synapses firing in my mind
angry that i cannot shake this AAGGGHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

i wrote on post-it after post-it
'fuck you'
'fuck this'
'fuck, fuck, fuck'

before

from nowhere and everywhere at once
i wrote
without full grasp, knowledge
or even finger control

'I'M SO GRATEFUL FOR LIFE.'

'I'M SO GRATEFUL FOR LIFE.'

'I'M SO GRATEFUL FOR LIFE.'

i read (on a woman's purse) recently
that
"Your Outlook on Life is a Direct Representation of How You View Yourself"

i smiled
upon reading that
and thought
brief but hard

hmmmm...

my outlook on life?

and then
it came

"hard, sad, ultimately beautiful and totally worth it."

it's raining outside.
the clock has turned to 12.

i am 26 years old now.
i am now
26

Here Again, Changed.

2008-01-01T21:23:00.000-05:00

and here we are again..

not so much the fingers
as the soul
that's pulled back to the
keyboard

the fingers need work
discipline
training

i am lazy
bafflingly so

work
writing
exercise
career

lazy
lazy
LATER

when it can always be put off
when there is so much else to do
and so much on t.v.

i want to write a book
i want to capture what i had
for that brief & beautiful moment in time

with matt

i want him to be remembered
certainly not just as a boyfriend
or as that pleasant, handsome blonde person

but rather
i want him to be remembered for all he was

now that he is gone

what happens in these situations?
on television
in faux-life
when someone dies

the music swells
tears rush to the surface
desperate to drown out something
wash away that catch
the tension held behind cheek bones
that knot beneath the chest

mostly they just cut to commercial
another scene
or jump to "three months later"

if only

i want to write about matt
knowing it will never be enough

self-fucking-indulgent
is all i can manage
on this, the first day of 2008

a year he never lived to see

at the start of 2007
matt and i lived together
had a life
or at least he did

now
for me
different job
different apartment
different relationship status
different friends
different goals
different turmoil
different, different everything

i fight the sadness
and that, at least, is trying

rarely giving in completely
working against the odds to smile
wanting to, in the end

make light of darkness
make light of deepest tragedy

Eulogy for Matthew Steven LaRoche
as delivered by Chris Clark
September 26, 2007

There was so much that Matt wanted all of us to know. He wanted us to have seen Angels in America on DVD, he wanted us to experience big city life, even just on vacation. He wanted us to have worked in a restaurant and KNOW how important leaving a 20% tip was.

He wanted us all to read regularly and write down our thoughts. He wanted us to accept all people, but never forget the importance of a politically incorrect joke. He just so wanted all of us to dance without judgement. To express our beliefs strongly and without fear. He just wanted to live and to inspire LIFE in the sometimes dark grey world around him.

Matt’s time on this earth was cut horrifically short. But we know that in his way he did more than most of us could ever dare. He worked non-stop and managed to graduate With Honors from the University of South Florida. He was employed under Dr. Marty Markowitz as well as Dr. Ho, who was named Time Magazine’s Person of the Year. With Matt’s dedicated and passionate work at the Aaron Diamond AIDS research center he has quite possibly contributed to what will someday be the cure for billions. And perhaps most importantly, he knew love.

He taught us all to embrace knowledge. To never settle for what’s easy. To always demand more from our government, more from our loved ones and more from ourselves.

Just a couple of days ago I was on the phone with a friend of ours. We were talking about Matt, how inexpressibly special he was. And I was struck when our friend Eric told a story that I had never heard. After two years as Matt’s boyfriend I thought I knew just about everything he had to say, the good, the bad and the sometimes very sloppy.

But our friend Eric told me about a conversation he’d had with Matt at some point during a party, while Matt was living in New York. Eric told me that Matt had begun to discuss his Uncle Mike, who had died of AIDS and who’d been the catalyst for Matt’s life’s work in HIV AIDS research, awareness and prevention.

I was told that Matt had expressed how important it was to him that his Uncle’s legacy be CARRIED ON. That as long as he was living NO ONE would stop Mike’s existence and importance in the world. That his Uncle Mike WOULD continue to live through him and his actions, through his stories and his love.

What a lesson Matt has taught us. To never, ever, under any circumstance allow ourselves to push our memories away. To never hide from the truth... And there were so many truths to Matt. That He Lived. That He Existed. That He Carved A Place In This World. And That He Mattered. So Much. “No more will we die silent deaths,” was a favorite quote of his. And it rings even more profoundly now.

We learn how fragile life is when the unspeakable sweeps through and robs us in the night. But it CANNOT take our memories, and it WILL NOT take our bond.

But then again, who could forget Matthew Steven LaRoche? It’s just not possible. He is with us now. Probably wishing they’d play some George Michael music and tsking some of the wardrobe choices we’ve made. He is laughing. And he is still. He is steadfastly courteous and brave. He is probably sipping a Diet Coke, researching new advancements in medicine at PubMed.com, watching Good Morning America before work with a steaming cup of coffee, talking about how hilarious Kathy Griffin is, playing with his nephew and niece Austin and Cay-Cay, dreaming up his next amazing hairstyle and craving ANYTHING with a little bit of Goat Cheese.

And he is telling all of us, like he’d quietly say to me, that he loves you all... completely.

A Tale of One City

2007-02-26T19:34:00.000-05:00

A Year In The Blog

2006-10-21T23:59:00.000-04:00

it's happened
i've done it
i'm finished
complete

thank you to anyone who's found yourselves here
and an especially big thank you to those who've come back

this is it
that's all he wrote
at least, i believe, for a little while now

writing here
over these past 365 days
has been so inspiring
enlightening
rewarding
and real

my only advice
at the end of all this
is to pick a year
any year
and try to write something down
once every day

or
you could always just come back to this place

cgc182.blogspot.com
(while perhaps not the world's most memorizable title)
will remain as a part of this universe
for perhaps somewhat longer than even we'll see

and it's all here
to be read and re-read
looked back on
remembered

or discovered
by some
for the very first time

i want to thank all of you
and apologize for getting swept up
towards the end of this magical process
i can tell you with certainty that every day was an entry
every single, single day
even if it took a bit longer
before you could read them up here

i hope that these words have at least meant a little to you

i dreamt it that way
and believed that they could

know and have faith that this experiment
was never just meant for one person
but all...

thank you again
to anyone out in the blog-o-sphere

this year is dedicated
to sarah for the insight
to rosie for the inspiration
to friends for their comments
to my family for getting it
and to matt for support every step of the way

"more later."
"if you are ready"
of that i can sure guarantee

"thank you for your time"
"people of the cozmos"
this journey has meant more than you'll know

with love
"-Chris"

just the three of us

2006-10-20T02:40:00.000-04:00

i'm glad that this blog is coming to a close
and will be happy to look forward to something brand new

i want to write a screenplay
audition more
start painting
or maybe own my life again

i know that i've said it a billion times before, but i WILL keep writing here
it's just the pressure of having to do this every day
that got to be too much

i love this blog
the discoveries made
the experiences cemented when they could have disappeared
the words
the photography

maybe i'll be be back in no time
in just a week or two
all i know is that tomorrow wraps up this year-long project
but it doesn't wrap up me

so much can happen
in any given year
this just happened to be these 365 days

new jobs
birthdays, travel
an expanding acting resume
the first time i've had a live-in relationship
the first time my family's met anyone i've loved
maybe even the first time that i have loved

it's late
i'm tired
and a new day lies ahead

matt's asleep beside me
with his arm across my chest

it's time to return to life now
and there's so much more, i guess

to you,

2006-10-19T12:28:00.000-04:00

My Bright Side

even in my times of trouble
even when I'm all alone
somehow I know you'll always love me
with you forever we'll be home

tomorrow brings a future promised
tomorrow brings us something new
tomorrow brings me closer, closer
no purpose living, before you

one cannot know the nature of love
without finding it

and cannot know its ugly realities
unless they've spent the time

dating is ECSTATIC, TECHNICOLOR VIBRANCE
love is HONEST TO GOD TAKE-YOUR-BREATH-AWAY EUPHORIA

but, maintaining this takes effort handled best with measured grace
and adult, live-in relationships are the daily, constant presence of that same and certain soul

love isn't always pretty

it's anger
it's disagreement
unmet expectations
and taking a shit with the door open

love is sometimes hating them with all your heart and soul
but wanting, having, needing them once cleansing time has passed

a year ago
you'd gone away
a summer love whose outcome was unknown

and here we are
today and now
rebuilding what was magic all along

the single life is gorgeous
and one i may well meet again
life will take you on a million different journeys
guessing where is not for us to know

i'm not certain what forever means to me
at this time
is it realistic? is it desirable? is it possible? is it fun?

what i do know
is you've changed my life
my matthew

with inexpressible thanks
and love.

the end of the road...

2006-10-18T23:48:00.000-04:00

...is practically here

just 3 days remain
before the page turns
this passage comes to a close
and the next brand new chapter begins...

receipts from the past

2006-10-17T14:02:00.000-04:00

the other day i cleaned out many papers from the past
deposit slips, bank statements
things that weren't meant to last

i saved what needed saving: for taxes, audits, any future maladies
but expected nothing special in the piles of wasted trees

as i dug and sorted through the mess
one pile garbage
one pile save
i began to pull out memories from the long forgotten days

receipts, my ancient history, mostly restaurants and stores
from all the places visited, in all the years before

there was the mundane:
mta nyc transit
jk dry cleaners on mulberry
jamba juice
and au bon pain

but also places long forgotten, nights that came and went unplanned:
blockhead's burritos
the art of shopping sample sale
our old nyu haunts around the clock and delion
my favorite diner, noho star

there were even establishments i had no recollection of
places that seemed so very far:
bon vivant?
bottino?
peep?
and houston market inc.?
i may recall the evenings but no particulars, i think

what got me most i'm certain were surprises from the past
a proof of life lived fully
a sign of life at last

hermes boutique on madison avenue when i bought my mom perfume
double happiness on mott street where i got too drunk too soon

the memories came flooding, inescapable unreal
i could not believe just where i'd been
with fervor, zest and zeal

i want to keep on rhyming
and remember all i've seen
the receipts will soon be thrown out
this, the only proof to cling

there was...
re:ab pilates, when i was on that work-out kick
tower video on lafayette street, nothing left now but some bricks

sci-fi diner within disney, when we ate inside a car
the o'neill theatre on broadway, where i saw a brilliant star

jefferson in chelsea, the night i took matt on a date
a song airlines receipt that says i bought "a fruit and a cheese plate"

sushi roku off in hollywood, where i took a trip last year
the common grounds in fayetteville arkansas, the time i got carded for a beer

cedar tavern in nyc, the date reads october 8, 2002
blue water grill, march 27th '03, before b.r. guest was a name i knew

hue restaurant on charles and bleecker, for ms. ashley's special day
bella's italian down in tampa, on an amazing past vay-cay

carte bancaire receipt from paris, france, i've got no clue what that's from
and then park bar on 15th street, when i knew matt was the one

an old clock-in sheet from vento, where i hosted for a spell
$1300 bill at animal medical center, my dog's leg broke when she fell

there's the sta travel slip from london, where i headed who can say?
and our money just keeps flowing, where will YOU spend yours today?

CBGB GoodBye

2006-10-16T23:01:00.000-04:00

last night was the end of an era

the
"legendary epicenter of the punk movement"
"New York's temple of Punk Rock"
CBGB
played its final show

and nobody other than the godmother of punk
Patti Smith
was enlisted to bring down the house

once and for all

matt and i were lucky enough to stop by one last time
earlier in the week
and were sad to see it go

but the music never fades
never dies
never finishes

not punk
not soul
not jazz
not classical

it was the end of an era
that's for sure

but it wasn't the end of us

Vintage VII

2006-10-15T13:55:00.000-04:00

The Final Vintage Entry
Originally written on April 7, 2005

A few weeks ago I took the subway to a part of town just minutes away from Madison Square Garden and only half a block from an ex-boyfriend's old place. It was an area of New York City that I generally avoided yet knew rather well. And still I managed to find myself on an avenue and a street that I'd never crossed before.

I turned the corner on a cool if not miserable late winter afternoon and came upon a truly original setting, something only possible in Manhattan. A piece of magic.

I came upon B&H Photo Video and Pro Audio.

Upon entering this absolute Mecca, I found that the allure lay in the combination of state-of-the-art camera equipment mixed with an environment staffed by seemingly thousands of Hasidic Jewish male employees. And no sooner had I crossed the threshold did I feel more perky than a tulip after a fresh spring rain.

This store jolted me to life in a way that gay bars and Vogue magazines rarely had. It was something about the exotic appearance of so many handsome bearded men. And before I even knew where I was headed, I found myself standing straight in front of David, a delicious young clerk at the Questions and Answers aisle.

Well, let me tell you, this David did not pull any punches. In a case of reality being stranger than fiction, it took him literally no time at all to acquire my First Name, Last Name and Telephone Number. (Technically for B&H company purposes... But as far as I could tell it was solely for personal reasons.)

I was at the store in the first place because
1. I needed a bigger memory chip to store photos.
2. I was concerned about my suddenly wobbly zoom.
3. I needed a proper camera case. (Carrying the $500 thing around in a small black trash bag for the past three months was beginning to feel more than a little ridiculous.)

But now that I was here, I was suddenly, instantly hooked. It seemed that with each fresh question David would ask and with every warm gaze that he'd beam down upon me I, subconsciously and entirely intentionally of course, would use the opportunity to manually re-apply another thick layer of my Burt's Bees Wax lip balm.

And the flirting didn't stop there. Oh no. I was in full attack mode and wasn't leaving without a circumcised and unshaven man. Nope, I needed somebody natural on top but trimmed on bottom.

So, it was time to get down to business. First on my list was the camera bag, which appeared from behind David's magic partition like a gift from beneath its wrapper.

"It seems awfully BIG...," I managed to whisper from below my five coats of "soothing, cooling, refreshing" gloss. Puzzled that the camera bag designed to match and fit my exact model seemed the wrong choice, my boyfriend playfully cocked his head and gave the casing another look.

"Hmmm!" he muttered. And with a deep jovial accent replied, "It is big. It's HUGE!"

Well darn right, I thought... But seriously.

"It seems WIDE though," I pouted.

I could tell David was crushed. "This is the one. Sorry." he said, trying to hide all his pain. I smiled. He was sweet. And really did want to see me leave happy. I guess that the case did match the camera, even if it was a bit large. So after a little time, a lot of evaluation and quite a bit of giggling, we both decided that the case in fact fit. And that size, in the end, really doesn't matter.

"Oh you're so helpful!" I grinned, eyes beaming and gleaming away.

"That's my job!" David replied. And with that it was officially love.

However, as these things so often go, once confronted with the bigger issues, my wobbly zoom to be exact, our relationship took a turn for the worse.

"Touch it. Touch it." I said. "It seems loose, not firm."

And this time I really wasn't trying too hard to lay it on thick. I sincerely wanted to find out if my zoom lens needed repair after months of being thrown about with nothing but a cheap layer of plastic protecting it from the dangers of the outside world.

"Touch it," I tried again.

But my David, suddenly impotent and confused, didn't know what to do with his hands. He was fumbling all over the place. And what it came down to was that he clearly lacked experience in the area.

It soon dawned on me that there would be no magic answer that David could pull from behind his special desk. All that foreplay and no big payoff.

He was really kind to point me in the direction of another Jew who specialized in the handling of zoom lenses, and I will always thank him for that. But when I realized that David couldn't handle MY zoom, well it would never last.

A bit later, as I headed towards the check-out line, I found that despite the demise of the short-lived affair with my chosen person, I was once again in high spirits.

"First time?" the bubbly, round checkout man asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes Sir!" I responded. "I'm a Virgin!"

Oh, I was happy again, flirting away and generally satisfied with my camera case, memory chip and perfectly operating zoom.

That was until the One Fatal Error.

You see, I was just so filled with excitement and glee at seeing the magic overhead railroad system shoot my purchase across the store and directly towards checkout (It's amazing. You HAVE to see it!) that I inadvertently blurted out,

"IT'S JUST LIKE CHRISTMAS!"

Now mind you, in retrospect, the store continued to bustle. Business at B&H Photo Video and Pro Audio continued as usual. But in my mind every single organism in the universe stopped. And for that one brief second this whole entire earth ceased spinning.

Christmas?! In front of all these Hasidic men? Who in the world did I think that I was and just what on earth was I thinking? Oy. I shrank. Mortified. Terrified. Embarrassed at my insensitivity.

And after what felt like a hundred years of solitude I was finally able to manage lifting my head just enough to humbly gaze at the little Jewish man before me.

Would he hate me? Would he scream? Take away my purchases? Throw me from the store? What could this stranger possibly think of me now? And more importantly, what could he possibly think of CHRISTMAS?!

It was in this instant, and very much to my surprise, that after all my flirting and foolishness, the only thing that this kind, bearded figure did (in response to my horribly heinous remarks) was look down at me from his register perched high up above, smile ever so slightly and say,

"Yes, but I don't have my Santa suit today!"

song for chris garneau

2006-10-14T11:03:00.000-04:00

the unofficial record release performance
at joe's pub
for my friend chris garneau's forthcoming album
"music for tourists"
was an exhibit in duality

excitement
pride
sadness
regret

there is talent in all of us
but it must be nurtured
handled with care

success is not earned overnight
albums aren't recorded in just a month's time

i don't think that chris has been working
a day job
for the better part of over two years

which makes me proud
and curious
but more than a little bit jealous

his new album is amazing, by the way

and just what i fell in love with
from the very first chord that i heard

i'm excited for him
for his work
his dedication
his ability to get it all done
with no full-time restaurant responsibilities
occupying eight hour days, six times a week

the after-party
at his friend and producer duncan sheik's tribeca loft
was another profoundly manhattan experience

the recording studio
collection of classic guitars
open bar
bobo types
family members
weed

it wasn't the first time i'd been to duncan's
and certainly wasn't the first time i'd seen chris perform
but there's always that internal struggle
standing by
as your friends receive praise after praise

yet
the thing is
that it's not always all about you
or your experience

it's sometimes his night
her reward
or their great big moment to shine

be proud of accomplishment
in all its varied forms

it will touch him at this moment
and perhaps you in the next

in spite of everything
stand by
quietly
smiling

a living, breathing symbol of support

visit the website at "chrisgarneau.com"
or visit the myspace page at "myspace.com/chrisgarneau"

Brilliance Beyond Brilliance: Holding a Mirror up to the World

2006-10-13T23:57:00.000-04:00

Excerpt from HBO's "Real Time with Bill Maher"
October 13, 2006

And finally, New Rule: If you think the worst thing Congress doesn't protect young people from is Mark Foley, then wake up and smell the burning planet. The - the ice caps are cracking, the coral reefs are bleaching, and our poisoned groundwater has turned spinach into a "side dish of mass destruction." Read the labels on your food. It turns out the healthiest thing you can put in your body is Mark Foley's penis.

But that's America for you: a red herring culture, always scared by the wrong things. The fact is, there are a lot of creepy, middle-aged men out there lusting for your kids. They work for MTV, the pharmaceutical industry, McDonald's, Marlboro, and K Street.

And recently, there's been a rash of strangers making their way onto school campuses and targeting your children for death. They're called military recruiters. More young Americans were crippled in Iraq last month than any month in the last two years. And the scandal is that Mark Foley wants to show them a good time before they go?

When will our closeted gay congressmen learn, our boys aren't for pleasure, they're for cannon fodder? Why aren't Democrats and the media hammering away every day about who we're supposed to be fighting for over there, and what the plan is? Yes, Mark Foley was wrong to ask teenagers how long their penis was. But at least someone on Capitol Hill was asking questions.

You know who else is grabbing your kids at too young an age? Merck, Pfizer and GlaxoSmithKline. By convincing you that your kids are depressed, hyperactive or suffering from ADD. In the last decade, the number of children prescribed anti-psychotic drugs in America increased by over 400%. Which means either that our children are going insane -which we might look on as a problem- or more likely, we have, for profit, created a nation of little junkies.

So, stop with the righteous indignation about predators. This whole country is trying to get inside your kid's pants, because that's where he keeps his wallet.

I don't care - I don't care if Mark Foley had been asking boys to describe their penis because I have some sad news for you: your kid is so larded out on Cheetohs and YooHoo, he can't even see his penis. So many of our kids are fat drug addicts nowadays, it's almost as if Rush Limbaugh had puppies!

So we can pretend that the biggest threat to our children is some creep on the Internet, or we can admit it's us. Because when your son can't find France on a map, or touch his toes with his hands, or understand that the ads on TV are lying, including the one where the Marine turns into Lancelot- then the person fucking him...is you.

HEADLINE

2006-10-12T23:44:00.000-04:00

planes crashing into buildings
people losing lives

did this need to happen?
is there a lesson to be learned?

it's terrible
awful
and no more so just because he's a yankee

but
i'm sorry
part of me just feels
that rich men aren't supposed to be flying around in little jets

look at j.f.k. jr.
look at all the rest

i say let life be the rush
the thrill
the ecstasy
let your family or your job be the catalyst that gets your heart pounding

i feel terrible that these two people had to die
and all for a recreational thrill

but
i'm also confused
why grown men need to fuel the flame
of what, at least to me, seems
like reckless adolescence

my thoughts go out to their families
to their wives
lord knows what those loved ones are going through now

but also
may we all have safer travels in our own precious lifetimes

for the sad truth is
that these aren't friendly skies

National Coming Out Day

2006-10-11T14:16:00.000-04:00

honesty
the knowledge that you are just how god made you
the resounding assurance that there's belief in yourself

the truth will set you free
if it hasn't already

and the most accurate judge of character
comes from the bravery of risking
enlightening the afraid

now is the time to be living
now is the time to be young
change is happening
it is now

perceptions are being shifted
every single day that we're here

whisper it
stash it in your journal
confess it to a friend
or shout it from the rooftops

this is your life
own every inch of it

i'm so very proud
of all of us
of every single one

struggle is inevitable

but i wouldn't change who i am
what i've experienced
who i've encountered
or all that i've learned

for this whole, entire world

National Coming Out Day
is just a calendar date
a conversation piece
a blip on the radar

but your life
is every moment following

live it
live it
live it
forever on your terms

11 days more...

2006-10-10T15:48:00.000-04:00

just eleven days remain
after this one

the year will be over
finito
complete

from october 22, 2005 to october 21, 2006
"A Year in the Blog"
then this project, as we know it
will at once be no more

i wouldn't have any reason to remember
this time
last year
aside from these archives
these relics, these tales

all i know
is that a deeper calling rang from inside of me
"put it out there" it said
"all of it"

express, exhibit, dissect, discover

i have to say that for a while
in recent months
i was beginning to think that this whole thing would wrap up
with a giant, surprise and shock ending

matthew and myself would be suddenly over
and i'd be writing my final entries from a laptop in london
sorting through the mess
coming to terms with this separation
picking up the pieces of a life that was once again mine

but i won't be in england
not today or tomorrow
and there isn't nor will be a cliffhanger
or trick

this is my life
the tiny, mundane, self-indulgent events of it
no exaggerations or lies permitted

not that it isn't difficult at times
dramatic
ridiculous
as all of ours are

it's simply the end of a short spell of time
the rounding and closure of a cyclical span

just eleven days remain
after this one

then the day to day
of the day to day
is once again
mine

Find Chrissy!

2006-10-09T17:11:00.000-04:00

Click on the Photo above to enlarge and look for little ol' me hidden somewhere in the crowd!

It's just like the game "Where's Waldo?" only with New York City's six week art installation "The Sky Mirror" as the backdrop!

And here's a hint, I'm all alone and wearing blue...

nightmare in daytime

2006-10-08T13:29:00.000-04:00

in my dreams della reese died while co-hosting 'the view'

she was there
talking, joking, laughing
very t.v. business as usual

and then
as the end of the show grew nearer
i saw
from the far right-hand side of the screen
a hiccup
a head jostle
the movement

her eyes closed
as she told herself
no
no
this isn't happening

i could see it in her face
the confusion
the denial
the almost would-be anger

this isn't my time
this certainly isn't my place

it was brief, fleeting
momentary

she was with us
before the end
but taken
in a heartbeat

the other women
more or less blur-shapes to my consciousness
sensed the possibility
of something awful
wrong

"a component is not right here"
blur-shape barbara thought at once

"what is this bitch going through?"
blur-shape joy pondered as well

della reese shook herself
the last thing she would do
just slightly

not even a shoulder roll
a tensing of the eyes
her fight before the silence

it was all very sudden after that

a commercial break
instant

but somehow
a re-wire mistake
as the promos ended accidentally
and 'the view' feed transmitted back to earth

yet now
instead of corn flakes
was the madness

a close-up
rosie crying
begging
holding della's head
no! how! no!

chaos everywhere
off-camera

insanity all around them
unseen horror madness

a brief glimpse
back to the studio
live t.v.
the tears and the terror

a death broadcast to the world

showed della reese's eyes
not peaceful in the slightest
but vacant
emptied
stolen all at once

in my dreams della reese died while co-hosting 'the view'

it was awful
but i woke up
and all was still again

pink is the new cure

2006-10-07T14:12:00.000-04:00

it's national breast cancer awareness month

so ladies,
be out there
educate yourselves
get a mammogram
talk about it
know

we must all fight for the cure
and believe in our hearts that it's coming

feed the hope
live the hope
be the hope

wear pink
today
all month long
forever and always

for more information go HERE

hung over-and-over

2006-10-06T23:01:00.000-04:00

this was the day that was lost...
this was the day that was taken from me...

after "work"
i headed to ryan's
for some svedka vodka cocktails
and a couple of abc shows

then
cecily and her lady friend arrived
with some sort of sparkling-type beverage
that was almost (but not quite) champagne

driving
in cecily's car
i remember at one point we drove

but soon after
stopped by the ritz for a spell
(no, not that ritz, a gay bar)

but i didn't have any drinks there

then, some time later
vlada
a stoli blueberi and cran for me
many, many, many drinks for ma' boy ry-ry

and a bit later
once we'd made friends with the muscle-man bartender
i partook in a couple of nameless, faceless gallon-sized shots

but after that
i was finished
done

i picked up some pizza for matthew and me
hailed a cab
and called it a night

i was drunk
there wasn't any denying that
but functional
it's not like i had trouble getting home safely
and i made sure to get some food in my stomach before bed

frankly, i thought that was it

but oh no
my body wasn't finished with me
not by a long shot

and now
a full twenty four hours later
i am just slowly beginning to feel human again

i must lack an enzyme or something...
'cause i didn't drink that much...

or perhaps it was that bartender...
slipping me a roofie...
he must just like 'em sloppy...
and sick...

ugh
the price of glamour
is just not worth it

the restaurant life

2006-10-05T23:59:00.000-04:00

the restaurant life
is unknowable

it cannot be counted on
it cannot be planned

a few hours work
and you're possibly rollin' in it

a whole days labor
and ya could end up screwed

i was scheduled a double today
both the a.m. and p.m. shifts

which should usually mean
i walk with a nice chunk of change

but alas
i got the shaft

two tables at lunch
two tables at dinner

luckily, i got management to cut me
at a reasonable hour

but c'mon
a man's gotta right to work here, doesn't he?

$14.90
for the whole day

$14.90
after tipping out my support staff

$14.90
for seven hours "work"

this is ridiculous
insane

i'm going out
to spend my $14.90 on drinks

And Now For Your Moment of Zen...

2006-10-04T23:50:00.000-04:00

Ahhhhhh... Bliss!

nip/fucked

2006-10-03T13:32:00.000-04:00

rosie o'donnell
as the character dawn budge
on nip/tuck

amazing

that woman
i'm telling you

there are people in your lifetime
that alter you
profoundly
without ever being there

i'm entranced
body & soul
by this character
by this storyline
by her

i hope you watched it tonight on FX

but if not
click HERE for her first
and probably only
on-screen sex scene

it is re-dunk-u-lously good
heartbreaking
profound

and trust me
you will leave changed...

taken

2006-10-02T23:53:00.000-04:00

the murder of five little girls
in amish country
today

disgusting
deranged
unfathomable

the mind almost cannot wrap itself
around the reality of it all

a one-room school house
a madman
blood
the parents refusal to board the helicopter
carrying their children

secrets
shrouded
sanctuary

real, unreal, awful

but
also this afternoon
my mom called to tell me
that my dental hygienist in arkansas
teresa
tragically died of a stroke

a wonderful woman she was
a mother
a grandmother
a hard-worker
a friend

so sad
how the longer we're here on this earth
the more that we have to let go

passed
passed
passed

with each one
a pang
a disbelieving
a maturity

and life isn't ever the same

somehow
even the routine of getting my teeth cleaned
by someone i loved so much
is over forever
for good

how, life is fleeting
how, it is all we have

please take it
take it
take it while you can

The House That IKEA Built

2006-10-01T14:33:00.000-04:00

Our third trip to IKEA.

I swear this place is Heaven on Earth.

So, the apartment is now officially complete.

And,
you are all cordially invited.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

2006-09-30T16:04:00.000-04:00

this morning
i woke up
and found myself
for maybe ten minutes at most
watching saturday morning cartoons
geez, i'm out of it
i realized
having never heard of any of them
'trollz'
'hanna montana'
'suite life of zack and cody'
i remember the good old days
of 'batman the animated series'
'x-men'
'rugrats'
'doug'
and 'saved by the bell'
there'll never be shows like that again
i knew
with an unwaveringly distinct sense of certainty
but as the corporate sponsors each got his 30 seconds
to shill the crap
well, that's when the real sense of nostalgia began
GOOD GOD
i thought
as a tsunami of emotions washed over my awareness
candied fruit roll up junk!
personalized voice-activated journals!
walkie-talkie-ish contraptions!
baby dolls that really pee and poop!
video games!
the sense memories overwhelmed me
with a heightened sugar rush of both joy and anxiety
the neediness of youth
the need to be loved
the need to fit in
the need to understand
the need to be taken seriously
the need to have everything everyone else has
the need to know just what that is
the need
the need
the need
we've all seen 'super size me' enough to know
the damaging effects of child-directed marketing
how many billions of dollars are spent annually
teaching your kids just how much to want that candy
just how much to need that junk food
just how much to have to have that crap they probably
wouldn't have wanted in the first place
but seeing it all there
surprisingly mostly the same shit they were selling
when i was a kid
only slightly updated
it was a shock
a jolt to the senses
a time-travel back to a distant reality
one that was inescapable at the time
but somehow awesome now
for a second it was
truly
awesome
but the thing that got me
the thing that ALWAYS gets me
and WILL always get me
has never faltered
never altered
never changed
no, the thing that makes me happiest
in that far-off childhood world
is sadly
the mcdonald's happy meal toy
and that exquisite joy they bring to me
on this particular saturday
they were hawking 'the little mermaid'
in honor of her dvd release
so, of course this sent me straight back there
what was it?
second grade?
first?
whatever the time
whatever the year
i was in it
for about ten minutes or so
and it was beautiful
it was terrifying
it was time to turn off the t.v.

Filming FIN

2006-09-29T23:14:00.000-04:00

after many months
many miles

triumphs
and humiliations

"The Closet Door"
starring yours truly
completed its principal photography
in the Bronx, New York
this evening

what a long strange trip it's been

from hotel rooms at the Embassy Suites in the Financial District
to a rented church on the Upper West Side

from Grimaldi's Pizzeria near the Brooklyn Bridge
to the campus of an affluent Southern University

and from Austin, Texas
to Manhattan, Brooklyn, Queens and the Bronx

i don't know where this film is headed
once edited
they'll be shopping it around to film festivals

but you never know
an actor has so little control over these things

at any rate
i'll definitely be getting a copy
so without a doubt a drunken screening is in order
at some point

i'm glad i did it
i got paid
learned a lot
and work is work is work

every experience is a blessing
with the prize being the occasion to grow

i'll never be able to say
that i didn't star in my very own independent feature film
which is certainly reward enough

and i'm grateful for the opportunity

So, That's A Wrap!

Double Defined

2006-09-28T23:59:00.000-04:00

8:14 am: Matt kisses me, I begin to Wake.

8:15 am: The alarm Goes Off.

8:46 am: Finally Get Out of Bed, Brush Teeth, Shower.

9:10 am: Shave, talk to Matt (he walks the dog).

9:37 am: Walk to Subway.

9:41 am: Subway arrives.

9:49 am: Train arrives at 77th Street.

9:52 am: Walk through the doors at Atlantic Grill, Change into work clothes.

9:59 am: Try to Clock In, TimePro Reads: GO SEE MANAGER, SCHEDULED AT 10:30.

10:00 am: Decide to use my extra thirty minutes to do napkin-folding sidework.

10:07 am: Begin folding my 3 bags of napkins equaling 150 total (50 for am shift, 100 for pm shift).

10:36 am: Finish second bag, Join the rest of the staff setting up the restaurant, fill five mise en place, prepare Iced Tea, Detail Section.

11:00 am: Pre-Shift Meeting Starts, we taste specials, menu items, go over Service Points, reservations, large parties etc.

11:30 am: Pre-Shift Meeting Ends.

11:58 am: Get First Table, two people.

12:05 pm: Co-worker gives me the postcard for a show that she's in.

12:42 pm: The Restaurant is nearly full, my three tables all include Jewish women, most of which carry shopping bags from Barneys, Bergdorf or Hermes, all of which have Botox-frozen faces.

12:49 pm: I'm bored. Need more tables. Feel full from all the food at Pre-Shift and anxious that I sense the need to be running around looking busy when there's nothing much to do. Standing in the Back Hutch writing this down. Ooh! I just got another table. Jewish women again.

2:25 pm: The Floor is cut down to 3 servers, 2 inside and 1 out in the cafe.

2:39 pm: One of my ladies forgets to give me the signed copy of her receipt, which includes the tip amount. She has not left her table so I approach her and politely re-present the check book. This prompts her to giggle nervously, retrieve the signed receipt from her purse and apologize profusely while saying, "I'm as bad as my husband! He always does this!"

2:57 pm: My second to last table, an older couple, leaves. The lady was very friendly, smiled often, had a hard time hearing and reminded me of my grandmother Ellie.

2:59 pm: My last table pays. They give me $18 on a $74.78 total. You have to love the young people. They understand tipping.

3:00 pm: My sidework (re-stocking hutches) and napkin folding are finished, so I run my reports: This is the elaborate system of claiming your credit card and cash tips, valued guest card totals and daily percentages of liquor, specials, desserts etc. etc. etc.

3:15 pm: Go on Break. Stop into Housing Works Thrift Shop, then an antique frame store, and then Tasti-D-Lite for a small cup of half Praline Pecan Fudge Yogurt and half Black Raspberry Yogurt, not because I was terribly hungry but just because it's so particularly beautiful outside. I sit on a stoop and eat slowly.

3:49 pm: A man walks by with a T-Shirt reading, "I Just Kidnapped Myself. Give me $100 or You'll Never See Me Again" I stare. Then think, I'll take the "Never See You Again" option, thank you very much...

4:08 pm: Get off the phone with my director. The movie I've been working on since last winter will wrap this upcoming weekend.

4:29 pm: Arrive back at work to change for pm shift.

4:30 pm: Sit down at Pre-Shift meeting.

5:07 pm: Meeting is Over. I'm full from tasting Crispy Tuna Sushi Roll, Grilled Atlantic Tilapia and Herb Crusted Seatrout with Birthday Cake for our Director of Operations. Finish setting up tables for night shift.

5:30 pm: Stand around, talk, joke. As the British would say, "take the piss out of each other."

6:12 pm: My first table sits down. The Night Begins.

8:00 pm: SLAMMED!

10:57 pm: Walk out the door, pretty early for a double! Call Matt, he's staying in.

11:15 pm: Drinks with Drew from work.

12:17 am: Say "Goodnight" to Drew. Get into cab, hear "Chris!" being shouted from across Lexington Avenue. It is Abigail from work. We agree to share a cab uptown.

12:27 am: Get home. Take the picture that you'll see at the top of this post in my building's lobby. Kiss Matt. Go to sleep.

the after-time

2006-09-27T23:09:00.000-04:00

the face of terri irwin remains a presence in my mind
her words
her vulnerability

"In life you steel yourself for things that can go wrong."

what a gift her family gave us
what a sacrifice as well

to know
after losing your one true love
that the children will continue on
as a part of the zoo

that in spite of everything
animals can't be the enemy
and truly aren't to be feared

"It's hard now. I'm really trying. But I've lost my prince. I've lost my prince."

what a beautiful spirit
that entire family

they will thrive and grow
with him
without him

They Have To

for the sake of the wildlife
but for humanity as well

"There are times when I weep. And I usually weep alone".

every day is a marathon
every moment is a mile

your souls will meet again
terri, steve

the story can't be over

That Fight, That Night

2006-09-26T19:30:00.000-04:00

This is a Brief Glimpse of Where We Were
This is how We Will Never Be Again

i'm home
he's out
drunk
calling me
why don't you come home? i say
is it a crime? he replies
is it a crime? he replies
if you loved me, if you cared about us you would be here right now
i'm sick and alone and you're out and you're drunk
i don't care that you went out for a drink with your friends but its late and you're calling me when you should be here instead
i'm not having this conversation over the phone
our relationship is deteriorating and you're out
i'm sick and we said we'd go to the counselor tonight and instead you're at a gay bar
where you met a guy not even a few weeks ago
i don't want you to come home tonight
why don't you just go home with danny or some guy
i don't want to be woken up again and have this fight all night long
if you loved me you'd be here right now
i hope you wake up tomorrow morning and you've slept in late again and you lose your job and maybe that will sink in that you have a problem because you're obviously not listening to me
i don't want to be in this relationship any more

i won't be hurt any longer

I Put This Here
After Much Thought and Consideration
To Show Just Where We Came From
To Show Where We Are Now

No one is Right
No one is Wrong

Every Journey Has Significance
I Can"t Ever Fully Know How Hard It Is
To Work Two Full Time Jobs
To Have To Come Home to a Boyfriends with NEEDS

We Are Great Now
It's Better Every Single Day
One Day At A Time

But That Night Got Much Uglier
Much More Violent
And That Was One of Many

But
It Was Also
The End of This Period

And The Start of What Will Be A Renaissance

Together
Happy
Changed
Appreciative
Aware
Alive
In Love

And Without Darkness
What Is Light?

sick days

2006-09-25T23:20:00.000-04:00

ugh
i've gotten sick

nose dry but dripping
sinus headache blurring sight
face feels like it's falling off
and now the sensation that there are daggers in my throat
every single time i swallow

it's seems to be going around new york
just part of the joy of autumn's arrival, i suppose

what fun

i'm taking a few days off from work
nobody wants their chopped salad with a side of nasal mucus

plus, it's time to rest and recover

i'll see you when i'm well

sunday morning commercial shoot

2006-09-24T19:38:00.000-04:00

two hours
a hundred bucks, tax free

we filmed across the street from Radio City Music Hall
as the tourists streamed by

"what's this?" they'd ask
stopping
smiling
pulling out their cameras one by one

what a way to spend a sunday

truth be told
the better part of it was spent chatting
with a middle-aged actress named linda

ecstatic that she'd once been an extra on "sex and the city"
during charlotte and trey's wedding scene and rehearsal dinner

i forced her to tell me all the details
how the food on their plates was either fake or rotten
how the extras were kept in a dingy church basement
how the pay was less than terrible

"Gawd, i wish i'd been there!"
i shouted
"now tell me once again!"...

the commercial today was for an italian cell phone company
apparently the lead actor is a huge star over there
something somebody, or other

the name ended with an "i"
i know that
or maybe it was an "o"

at one point
a group of travelers from italy actually happened to pass by
mouths agape
"is that REALLY him?" the bronzed men asked

"it is"
we replied
surprised at ourselves just a little
filled with a sensation that just may have been pride

these commercials i've done
are tiny
insignificant
just silly really

the only one i've ever seen aired
was the maria sharapova ad i'd been forced to turn down
due to restaurant work

but, first the vh1 rock honors
then celebrity fit club
jc penney
the vma's
samsung

and now italy...

what can i say
they're fun
and i'm HUGE in europe

what isn't said, what isn't seen

2006-09-23T20:48:00.000-04:00

is this exploitative?

to write a personal web log detailing one year in your life
becomes tricky
once your everyday existence wraps itself so tightly
around another soul's

but then
it becomes even trickier
once that shared life begins to potentially unravel

i didn't write during those darkest of days
both out of commitment to our privacy
and a personal inability to make sense of it all

but now
as we steadfastly begin the process to repair
those vast and endless past-days stare at me, call at me, taunt me to profess

there's simply all those Missed Days
where i have to COME UP WITH SOMETHING TO WRITE ABOUT

i just don't know what
or how much
to say
when it comes to he and i

i went to work
we fought
i'd say it's over
and somehow we'd forgive

i'd go to work
we fought
he'd say there was nothing left in him
and somehow we'd forget

this is all that happened
this is all we did

but
if i write about it
the fighting
the screaming
the anger
the tears
then i'm selling our privacy to the faceless-outside-you

and if i say nothing
then somehow i'm dishonest
covering up our truth
hiding what happens in real life
making it look so easy
turning grown love to a lie

in spite of every faith-filled word i've put here
and after every truth i've told

the honest to goodness reality
is that i have nothing in my life i wish to hide

but it's not just my life any longer

i don't know what to do
he clearly matters so much more than a blog entry
a story
a pot-shot
or a jab

but the truth
the truth

in spite of everything
is still somehow all i know

the back and forth

2006-09-22T20:49:00.000-04:00

wake up
smile
try
live

go to work
smile
try
live

have a fight
smile
try
live

go to bed
smile
try
live

do it again
smile
try
live

over again
smile
try
live

over again
smile
try
live

and over again
smile
try
live

amen

2006-09-21T08:56:00.000-04:00

One Month More

2006-09-20T08:56:00.000-04:00

it's sad
but it's time

i'm so far behind with this

and the day to day
on top of The Day To Day
proves difficult
once life steps in

October 21st
the final revelation of
"A Year In The Blog"

but
i'll be back
in time

i will be back

for those of you who come here
but also for myself

discovery lands with the willingness to step away

question, question and you will never know
BE
and full awareness is yours to hold

thank you, to all

the living is what it stems from
your lives are what it's all about

ATTACK OF "THE PHANTOM" TOURISTS!!!

2006-09-19T23:49:00.000-04:00

There had to be a reason why I've lived in New York City for over six years and had never seen "The Phantom of the Opera" on Broadway.

It wasn't that I hadn't appreciated the show when I saw its National Tour as a child. It wasn't that I didn't have an interest in scratching the title off my list of Old-Timers I'd never witnessed on Broadway. And it certainly wasn't that I didn't attend the theatre on a regular basis.

No. After seeing "The Phantom of the Opera" earlier this evening, I can say with complete certainty that the reason I'd never seen this show was plain and simple, The Tourists.

Scottie and I saw "Phantom" tonight after first losing the "Wicked" ticket lottery and second, not coming up with anything else to see in its place. Though neither of us was particularly dying to see this moldy relic, we both agreed that the spectacle could be mildly amusing and neither minded spending twenty six bucks on a balcony seat.

It was only once we got inside the Majestic Theatre that the sensation became painfully obvious: We were the ONLY actual New Yorkers in the place, aside from perhaps the ticket-tearers and on-stage cast (though even they suspiciously appeared to have been bussed in!)

Further more, very, VERY few of the tourists inside the theatre appeared to have come from the United States. Which is just fine and dandy by me, but also somewhat discombobulating to feel you're hearing more languages being spoken than the Security Guards at the United Nations.

And those few-and-far-between individuals who did speak English were mostly a collection of heavily chaperoned youngsters between the ages of fourteen and sixteen who wore a colorful collection of cowboy hats, zoot suit tuxedos and elaborate prom style ball gowns.

As we ascended the stairs toward our balcony seats we noticed that, as expected, a majority of the area was left unfilled. So, taking advantage of the situation, moved to some chairs with a better view no sooner had the lights gone down.

And this is where the magic really began! I am telling you, the assortment of characters around us ranged from the bizarre to the nearly terrifying. It all started with the shifting, jumping, hyperactive older Asian couple seated in front of us. These two little jumping beans bounced around for the entire length of the show and looked as if they might expect a bomb to go off at any moment. Or, at the very least, had itching powder in their pants.

Next I noticed the constant-talking Russian youths beside us. Now why these two felt the need to engage in a constant play-by-play commentary is beyond me. All I know for sure is that at certain points over the course of the evening this pair sounded almost exactly like a couple of gruff Soviet Football coaches shouting expletives at each other.

But to top it all off, before us sat a fiery-haired butterfly clip-wearing older woman who proceeded to (and I'm not joking) FILM the entire show with her hand held video camera.

Now we all know that I love YouTube as much as the next bloke. And as a result, her filming wouldn't have bothered me so much aside from the fact that she held her large camera a full foot or so in front of her and kept the large, bright viewfinder open while continuing to zoom in and out of the action.

Which in a pitch black theatre caused the effect of witnessing a slightly smaller, brighter production of the show just to the side of my periphery and right out the corner of my eyes.

I tell you, this is why I try to stick to the shows the tourists avoid. It was honestly as if these people had never been out in public in their lives, let alone to the theatre.

When I physically tapped the dyed-red headed woman on her shoulder and whisper-shouted, "IF YOU'RE GOING TO INSIST ON FILMING THE ENTIRE PERFORMANCE COULD YOU AT LEAST HAVE THE RESPECT OF CLOSING YOUR BRIGHT-ASS SCREEN SO THAT THE REST OF US MIGHT ENJOY THE SHOW!" she looked at me as if I was a complete loon for even suggesting the idea and pushed my hand away in fervent indignation.

The show was fine other than that. I slept (yes, full on knocked-out slept) through a majority of the dialogue, but woke with a start for all of the signature musical numbers.

I have to tell you though, if you're interested in the story, the characters, Andrew Lloyd Webber in general, or this show in particular... Spare yourselves the turmoil, head on over to your local Epcot Center Countries of the World exhibit or simply rent the damn DVD and enjoy it from the relative silence of your living room.

Trust me, you'll say "Thank You" later!

we're trying...

2006-09-18T08:56:00.000-04:00

it's a constant possibility
two choices
Together or Separate

like alcoholism
just one
one
one day at a time

at this point
feelings have been so frayed
so damaged
that the tiniest spark sets off a firestorm

and work, work, Work is required
to get us back on track

but
We Want To
together

and we need to believe that we can

we're trying...

for somehow
in spite of everything
i have to believe in
this / that / our

possibility

i have to believe in our love

it's over.

2006-09-17T00:41:00.000-04:00

it's over
it's repairing
it's back off again

we've been breaking up and apologizing
in a million different ways
over the course of this past month

writing has been difficult
clearly
because i've never had the desire
to say too much too soon

but
the sad truth
is that this is the sad truth

and i cannot hide behind these faux-blogs any longer

i loved matt
very much
but so much more is needed
when it comes to one plus one

finger pointing is an ugly game
and i won't allow what we've shared to devolve into that

we are adults
we will both survive
this has happened a billion times before

i'm really sad

matthew is a wonderful, wonderful man
we simply no longer function as one

this too shall pass

it has to

it has to

and life will come again

the awful, awful afterthought

2006-09-16T19:10:00.000-04:00

i don't know where i'm living
i don't know where to go

stay alone, and live here with these ghosts
stay, and perhaps find a friend to join

move, and leave him sleeping here himself
move, and sublet all to anyone

stay...
stay, with him
and try, try, try to try

This Isn't Working

there's no other way around it

this isn't working
i've done all i can do

i won't demean what we have built
in these past fifteen months
with sordid details to the nameless you
but
needless to say, something has shifted
something has possibly died

open communication, honesty
can only work when two of you want it
love cannot continue when one has given up

there is anger beyond anger
hurt beyond the hurt

there are words not said that kill us
there are said words, do the same

i am heartbroken, sad and angry
and i hold it all inside

the walls of this home
shift back and forth
from ours to theirs to no ones

one moment
possibility in picture frames
the next
reminders of the dead

movers
and
brokers
and
sublets
and
loss

changes
and
sadness
and
regret
and then
cost

there is no clear path before us / me
there is no clear answer there

i hear from each and every person
"i don't know what to tell you"
"i don't know what to say"

is it space we need?
or connection?
is it forgiveness?
is it through?

i cannot answer that for anyone
but myself
i cannot answer that for YOU

running to yourself, staying put

2006-09-15T00:11:00.000-04:00

words, doubt, caution, anger, release
fill me
empty me
leave me without breath

"what can i do?"
"relax"

"how can i try?"
"relax"

"what do you need?"
"relax"

the body doesn't relax on its own
not when its been forced to
not when it needs more

two components are needed
two open pathways

the effort of more than one

every fiber of my being says run
RUN!
RUN!
RUN!
RUN!
RUN!
RUN!
RUN!

the sensible portion of my mind
the only thing holding me back
remains

and then
every morning like clockwork
the heart reawakens to a possibility of you
of us
and what we used to be

this is so hard

sparks don't reappear alone
often they're accompanied by fury
anger
disappointment
regret

they come with need
or expectation
beside the promise never granted

we are trapped
the two of us

within these walls of green and mauve
beneath these rules of life and love

that face

2006-09-14T20:56:00.000-04:00

on my way to work this afternoon i passed a woman
whose face had been so mauled by plastic surgery
that she practically ceased to look human

face tight, but scarred and lumpy
lips full, but swollen and disfigured
eyes nearly pointing out of the sides of her head

messy, ravaged, misplaced cartilage
resting there like parasites
the whole whole knowing that she'd done this to herself

she looked awful
and sad

and i couldn't help but question why it seems so difficult these days
for people to grow older with a little bit of grace

but
while i can't imagine altering myself beyond recognition
the thing is that i do get it

recently i read a quote
from stunning british actor rupert everett, no less
that as a gay man in his late forties
he feels all but invisible to the world around him
going as far as to say
(and i paraphrase)
that if someone were to light him on fire in a gay bar
the boys beside him wouldn't notice any further than to light their cigarettes off the flame

and it's true

culture
gay or otherwise
thrives and relies on youth

actors have an expiration date
women have an expiration date
gays have an expiration date

not that it's an ending point for your importance in the world
for your ability to make a difference
a life change
or a new discovery

it's simply an ending point for being noticed
by others
in that way

and it's sad to see these faces
barely human
unrecognizable
nothing like the way they were before

the nose that was perhaps a touch too large
the face that had weathered some with age
their character
their integrity
their beautiful, beautiful imperfections
gone

i'm not there yet
so i shouldn't judge
but i just feel that
every wrinkle is earned

and if you hate the way you look on the outside
to the extent that you'd allow strangers to cut your face apart
then no matter what your age
consider looking inward first
just as a first step
and really invest in checking in with who THAT person is

because they probably don't want to look like an alien
or a person with cat eyes, inflated lips and half a nose

that person might just be grateful
being exactly the perfect face
in exactly the perfect way
that they were shaped to be

Listen to the Lullaby of Old Broadway

2006-09-13T00:19:00.001-04:00

Taboo

Wicked

Cabaret

THIS is amazing.
THIS i love.

You can seriously all thank me later.
YouTube is incredible!

just B

2006-09-12T16:31:00.000-04:00

justin timberlake's second solo album is released
on the same day
that britney spears gives birth to her second child

this world is a strange and magical place
and choice is the driving force

Work or Life

choose one
the other
or a fraction of each
because you'll likely never have it all

who should be more proud?
who's accomplished more?

the question is impossible to answer
for we can never know which path is right for those we used to love

but
after all their time together, isn't it amazing?

The Exact Same Day

the thing is that
it's not these two celebrities that interest me at all
but rather
i'm enthralled by just how far our lives can take us
from where we used to be

and just how far our lives could take us
from where we sit right now

birth and release
conception or creation

congratulations to both
on their very special day(s)

wake me up when SEPTEMBER ends

2006-09-11T23:11:00.000-04:00

September 11, 2006

i returned to washington square park today
to the exact location where i watched the tower fall

i stood there this afternoon
beside one of my best friends in the world
i stood there
after a day of cautious laughter, lunchtime, napping and stores
i stood there
in that very same spot

the attacks on the u.s. that occurred on september 11, 2001 have nothing to do with me
my feelings have absolutely little to no worth

it was a national tragedy
and every person i knew survived

but standing there on that day five years ago
and seeing thousands gone in the blink of an eye

the largest movie set in the world
unspeakable, no words
the unbelievable unbelievability of it all

standing there on that day
i'd never felt more alone

the city was crashing down around us
and i would go down with it
silent
with not one soul beside me

but
somehow i survived
and did not stand alone today
because she was there beside me

here we are world, thriving
god is great
god is good

September 11, 2002

... I would not have remembered September 11th, 2001 today had it not been for the horrific tragedies in Downtown Manhattan, at the Pentagon and in that Pennsylvania field. I would have gone to school. Maybe learned a thing or two. But I would have forgotten it by now. I would have probably walked home, maybe seen a friend, probably I would have ordered sushi and eaten alone.

However, I never made it to class that day. Instead I stood, and from only a mile away watched nearly 3,000 people die. I'm afraid they were just too far away to see and just too close to forget. The memory that stands out the most is the feeling of isolation, of total fear and loneliness. That walk back to my dorm at Union Square from the park in Washington Square might as well have been 9 miles. I held onto myself because there was no one else to hold onto, no one to hold onto me.

September 16, 2001

... I've wanted to write in my journal, capture every single fucking detail. I've carried this book everywhere with me but all I do is look at it. It's hard to make myself write. It's hard to ponder the effects this will have on the city. Will this place ever be the same? Has New York City, in losing its face, lost its luster, its spirit? How many people have died? What will happen to business? Will the city ever look the same? Are we really going to war? Questions swim in my head along with all the other crap. I don't know that I've thought in a complete sentence since any of this happened.

I don't know, I kind of just want to go home. I won't leave this city but I don't want to be here either. I find myself mad at everyone in my life, mad at myself. I have no motivation, nothing to drive me. I feel emotionally drained, lifeless. There is no feeling yet everything is heightened.

I pray for those that died. I especially PRAY for their families. I pray for my family a lot and every now and then, I pray for myself. PRAY that I can get through all this. That this does not break me. I find myself praying all the time, which helps me to breathe. Dear God, help us all to get through this. Please. PLEASE.

five years ago today...

2006-09-10T21:25:00.000-04:00

the beginning of sophomore year
and the ending of my job at 'the lion king' the broadway musical

class
scottie
ryan, lauren, brad, ash, aaron, paula, addison, james
the atlantic theatre company

and tonight
september 10, 2001
tickets to the sold-out michael jackson tribute concert at madison square garden

a goodbye to innocence
one last true party

go to bed peaceful little one
you are not alone
it's the end of the world as we know it come morning.

Little Mister Sunshine

2006-09-09T20:06:00.000-04:00

I'm gathering that pretty much every person savvy enough to have read a blog is savvy enough to have already seen and developed an opinion on the film "Little Miss Sunshine."

That said, if you have not seen this movie, and have any innate desire to smile, please do yourself a favor and watch it.

"Little Miss Sunshine" tells the story of six people, all related by blood, and is as beautifully honest and revelatory a film as is imaginable. It is also a wholly uplifting artistic experience.

From the opening shot, and the brief character-developing vignettes that follow, we are immediately drawn into this world and completely on the side of these six misfits. As a result we want more than anything to see them each succeed.

But what's particularly amazing, is that over the course of the film we begin to realize that success has very little to do with winning in the literal sense. And that instead, success is actually defined by the people we are.

By character. By trying. Trying to win, to provide, to coach, to endure, to love, and if nothing else, to live.

We all very much need to believe that somehow we're not losers. That in spite of everything, even we have our own cheering section.

Five other people who will set their lives aside for us. Five other people who will stand up when the world finds us ugly and unworthy. Five other people who will tell us that they love us whether we win or lose.

And amazingly enough, we do. Sometimes it just takes a little push...

slow train home

2006-09-08T20:06:00.000-04:00

as i head home
via mass transportation

i hit a cut-off
an ending
a stopping point

77th Street
is where i enter from work

86th
on and on upward

96th arrives
and then a sudden shift
as nearly every caucasian exits

except for me

it's just myself
and the latinos
the african americans
the tired
the fed-up
the proud

it's me
the sore thumb
standing out like some lone star in the vast and endless sky

i don't particularly like living up here
i can feel the racism growing inside of me

not racism towards any particular color
but at the anger inside the people i come into contact with daily

not a race issue
but an economic one

latino music stores that blast their outdoor stereos from morning to night
despite petitions and pleadings from every resident around them

black mothers who scream
"if you don't shut the fuck up i will fuck your shit up and i don't give a fuck who sees"
to their otherwise well-behaved two year olds

hispanic men
who will shout
"i'm gonna kick your ass, asshole"
to the person who accidentally brushed past them on their way out of the grocery store

mothers and fathers of every color
that allow their children to play unsupervised on the streets
well past one a.m.

anger
anger
anger
at all times
from all people
towards every other living being

as if happiness itself should be outlawed
as if optimism from the "faggot" "cracker" boy was an insult to their neighborhood
as if joy were an infringement on their way of life

not a race issue
but an economic one

pass 96th Street and you'll feel it
not particularly unsafe
but i wouldn't say necessarily safe either

constantly being aware
constantly watching how you act
where your wallet is
who is coming up behind you

don't make eye contact
don't smile at a stranger

"what the fuck do you have to smile about, cracker?"
was the response i got from a group of spanish teenagers
after politely, casually nodding to them during my first month up here

i don't like these people
i'm sorry
i don't

Take A Little Time To Enjoy...

2006-09-07T20:06:00.000-04:00

Y'all know I HAD to be there to support my girl Rosie on her first week as co-host of the "The View's" 10th Season!

So, after being first on Stand-by for Ms. O'Donnell's debut episode (and sadly not getting in) I was given the opportunity to come back with my very good friend Ashley for the last episode of Rosie's first week on air!

And just because I know you're wondering, every audience member received...

- A "The View" travel bag
- The book "Debunking 9/11 Myths"
- "The Mom Inventor's Handbook"
- About a dozen of those same "Mom Inventions"
- Juice and Cookies
- And Two Tickets to "The Wedding Singer" on Broadway

What an amazing, amazing day!

Up until the point at the end of the taping when the directors asked the audience to dance around for an upcoming Beyonce segment (leaving Ashley and I no choice but to slip out through the back entrance) we had a Great Time!

She's back with a Vengeance, guys! She is definitely Back!

Alanis Morissette "I Was Hoping"

2006-09-06T20:06:00.000-04:00

as we were talking outside it was cold we were shivering yet warmed by the subject matter
my wife is in the next room we've been having troubles you know please don't tell her or anyone
but i need to talk to somebody
you said "wouldn't it be a shame if i knew how great i was five minutes before i died i'd be filled
with such regret before i took my last breath" and i said "you're willing to tell me this now
and you're not going to die anytime soon"
and i said i haven't been eating chicken or meat or anything and you said yes
but you've been wearing leather and laughed and said we're at the top of the food chain
and yes you're still a fine woman and i cringed
i was hoping, i was hoping we could heal each other
i was hoping, i was hoping we could be raw together
we left the restaurant where the head waiter (in his 60's) said "good-bye sir thank you for your business sir you're
successful and established sir and we like the frequency with which you dine here sir
and your money" and when i walked by they said "thank you too dear" i was all pigtails and cords
and there was a day when i would've said something like "hey dude i could buy and sell this place so kiss it"
i too once though i was owed something
i was hoping, i was hoping we could challenge each other
i was hoping, i was hoping we could crack each other up
i too once thought that when proved wrong i lost somehow
i too once thought life was cruel
it's a cycle really you think i'm withdrawing and guilt tripping you well, i think you're insensitive
and i don't feel heard and i said do you believe we are fundamentally judgmental? fundamentally evil?
and you said yes i said i don't believe in revenge in right or wrong good or bad you said
"well what about the man that i saw handcuffed in the emergency room bleeding after beating his kid
and she threw a shoe at his head
i think what he did was wrong and i would've had a hard time feeling compassion for him"
i had to watch my tone for fear of having you feel judged
i was hoping, i was hoping we could dance together
i was hoping, i was hoping we could be creamy together

national hero

2006-09-05T23:04:00.000-04:00

steve irwin died

pierced through the heart
doing what he loved most on this earth

passion comes at us in many forms
deep, driving
slow, gradual
hitting you in your sleep like a train out of nowhere

this man devoted his life to his passions
to his dreams

that desire inside of him bubbling to life
as he bravely delivered the exotic to our world

there's just something about that image
of him
in the water
a gentle stingray
the cameraman
there
and then gone

he pulled the barb from his heart
he was with us
then wasn't

how can our hearts not go out to his family
to his wife
to his daughter
to his son
and us all

steve irwin died

pierced through the heart
doing what he loved most on this earth

I Can't

2006-09-04T13:04:00.000-04:00