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Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.
04/16/2002
Boys who go for boys oddly turn into girls who go for boys
Does it mean anything that I have been having a recurrent dream that an angry constituent shoots me in the arm during a really bad day at work?
Does it mean anything that my joints have been achy lately?
Does it mean anything that at times I feel like I am going to explode?
Hmm, ok, enough silly questions, here�s an entry of sorts:
It's all about the hair:
I've realized that I totally forgot to mention that Barb, Laurie, John and I saw Natalie Merchant perform at the Cerritos Center a couple of weeks ago. It was a good concert, made better in a way by my little quirk of thinking that Natalie Merchant is one of those singers I think sound better in person than she does in album.
I was worried at first that the concert was going to be all about her hair. During the first song she let down her hair. Then she pulled it back up. Then it went down again. Then up again. Then she started ignoring her hair, which was good since I was obviously getting distracted.
The crowd that night was a largely late thirties hipster crowd, which made me feel quite less than hip. You know how it goes.
It's all about the fish:
Fernando, his boyfriend Enrique, John and I took a last minute trip down to San Diego on Saturday (04/06/02), spending the day at Sea World. Getting there, involved a long road trip. The majority of which was spent listening to Fernando give the patented nonfootball coach �football eats up the entire sports budget and sucks, sucks, sucks� diatribe. If you know any high school or college coaches who are not involved with the dreaded game of football, you have no doubt already heard the complaint. Repeatedly.
We did the behind the scenes tour, which was cool. Got to look at some of the avian and seal rescue/rehabilitation areas as well as getting to touch some little sharks. If you�re ever there, do the tour.
I discovered that Fernando is dolphin crazed, which meant we spent a lot time at the �rocky point something or another� tank where you can feed and touch dolphins. I also discovered that dolphins are huge teases. Unless you forked out some money for fish to feed �em, they would swim by. Just out of reach. There were lots and lots of people streaching there arms out for nothing that day. I didn�t feed any of the dolphins, but John did make me feed some of the bat rays in another tank. It felt very weird as they sucked the food out of your hand.
After a very full day, we stopped at the dolphin tank again. This time the dolphins were more interested in having sex with other than they were with teasing the fishless people watching them. Which was somehow not very surprising.
Anteater pride:
I find it very amusing that whenever I see my alma mater while checking the site stats, it's almost always either a google search for "Santa Ana gang members" or a search for �Porn stores in Irvine.�
Horny college kids all writing papers on the same subject. Most fun.
It�s all about Bob:
The Manatee rescue building at Sea World is one of the newer structures in the park. You can tell, because after walking through the exhibit, viewing rescued manatees and learning about the hazards they face, you�re dumped right into the middle of a gift shop.
It�s in this shop that I bought my newest toy. A small little plush manatee that I�ve decided to name Bob.
Bob has a string that you pull to make him vibrate...
Work 1:
We had a very long and odd conversation at my office last week. Several of us spent most of our lunch break arguing over who had the worst �ethnic mom.� I feel compelled to point out that do to recent personnel reassignments, we no longer have any white folks in my office. Does that excuse or explain this particular conversation?
Plaid vinyl pants???:
John and I saw a play at the geffin Friday night (04/12/02). This time it was He Hunts by George Feydeau. It was a rewritten, slightly updated classic french farce, or at least that's what the program states. John enjoyed it more than I did, but it wasn't bad by any means. Although, the people seated next to and in front of me didn't bother to come back after the first act, so they might differ on that opinion. But since the woman next me wore plaid vinyl pants and made a lot of noise eating a mint, who cares what she thought.
Being a farce, it was played very broadly. Very brashly. Considering some of the random comments I overheard leaving the theater that night, I don't think that everyone got that the "over acting" was intentional.
Then again, maybe they were all disappointed by a change in cast. Originally, Megan Mullaly (sp?) was supposed to have played one of the leads. For one reason or another, she backed out. They did have Carol Kane doing a very good job of playing a drunken washed up countess, so that fulfilled the all important TV actor on stage function essential to all theater productions in Los Angeles.
Work 2:
Yesterday, a mother came into the office with her three young boys, ages roughly 5-10. She had no real control over them and they spent most of their time fighting. At one point, one of the boys started screaming at the top of his lungs, "Don't touch me with your hippy hands!!!!!!"
Nostalgia:
I somehow managed to make it to the Pasadena area GLBT Wednesday potluck. It was the first time I've gone this year and it looks like I chose a good night to show up. There were lots of folks there that night I had not seen in ages. People like Glen. Ahh, Glen. I've always had a little crush-ette on Glen. Very sweet man. If I were single, or in an open relationship, I would so be all over that tattooed 'n pierced body of his. Perhaps it�s a good thing that he has absolutely no interest in me. oh well.
There were several stories that night of L.A. gay life in the seventies. Again, from the 40 something guys and again with more than a little bit of nostalgia. They talked of places that were no longer open and people who were no longer here. These guys aren't that much older than me, only about 6-7 years for the youngest of them, but in some ways, these seem to be very important years.
Part of it is the baby boomer vs. GenXer thing, part of it is that I wasn't as wild as some of them were, but more importantly, I think that part of it is that they are the preAids generation and I'm not.
In 1980, they were partying and living the life, when the first stories of a gay cancer started appearing. I was 12. Which would put me at older edge of a generation of gay men who always had to deal with the issue of Aids. For me the party didn't suddenly end and there were wasn't a forced change in attitude towards sex. For guys my age and younger, there always has been the possibility that sex could equal death.
I have a feeling that I may have touched on this in an earlier entry. If so, please pardon the rehashing of old and worn subjects.
Work 3:
As usual, work has been ridiculously busy. The past few weeks especially so. I have been playing the part of manager, trainer, auditor, secutary, field person, accountant, hearing officer, paper pusher, bill collector, mediator, disciplinarian, data imputer, researcher, law clerk, special project manager, public educator, and flunky.
I am so tired.
nonhomosexuals:
I�ve admitted in previous entries that I occasionally indulge in slash fiction. I�m assuming that a huge ol� explanation isn�t necessary, but in case it is, it�s just fan fiction where somebody takes their favorite (usually) fictional (usually) straight characters, turns �em queer and pairs �em up (romantically/sexually). There are straight slash stories, but I�m ignoring that for simplicity sake.
These stories are usually porn and are usually badly written, but not always. Occasionally I�ll come across the sub, sub genre I prefer, �well written, humorous, yet romantic, not overly smutty fiction.�
Slash fiction confuses many folks. They don�t get it. These characters aren�t queer, so why bother making up stories where they are.
Well, I�ve come across references to form of fan fiction that I don�t get. I don�t know what the proper name is, so I�ll just call it Aslash for now.
In Aslash, the writer takes what would be a slash couple and changes the gender of one of the people, essentially turning them into a straight couple. As an example, my favorite nonexistent Dyke couple, Captain Janeway and Seven of nine from Star Trek Voyager would suddenly become a straight couple where the Male Captain has to deal with his feelings of love for one his female crew.
Boring.
I realize that there is a bit of wish fulfillment in all fan fiction, ie: this is the way that it really should be. Playing god and all that.
I get that. I understand that. Even keeping that in mind, I just don�t get this genre of fan ficiton. I guess it boils down to one simple question: Aren�t there already enough het couples out there for people to play with?
I suppose there could be counter-Aslash fiction, were you take a het couple and turn �em queer. Say, take Chandler from Friends and turn him into a wussy woman, but still have her married to Monica. Though, in this particular scenario, why bother?
more later,
nico
Music:
Ultra lounge
Want:
for someone to crack my back...possibly that guy in the too short shorts from that British gardening TV program...
Elsewhere:
Tiki