Friday, October 31, 2008
Today I went to the Met to forget. I had a rough day in my head and so I thought going to the venerable museum to look at the Egyptian collection to get to perspective on how insignificant I am would help.
Wow, what a joint this is. I wish I took loads more photos from the Metropolitan Museum of Art to show you what a world class place this is. I live directly across the park from this amazing institution and love to come here just to look at mere pieces, slices of this vast place. I am never disappointed and always amazed.
I took a tour of some of the highlights of the collection and learned a lot. I cared nothing about Polynesian art until today. Amazing what educating oneself can do for ones mind, opinion and outlook.
Well, folks speaking of taking action in ones life, I am off to Columbus, OH tomorrow bright and early with other eager volunteers to help Obama get elected. I am going to be part of history, I hope. We are going to a notorious battleground state to get out the vote. I am staying on the floor of someone I don't know (and who doesn't know me - how amazingly kind she is to do this.) and drive with people I have never met because we all believe in one thing. And we are going to do it legally and non-violently.
Please go and vote. It is important beyond belief. "Belief" - that is a whole other thing.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
I am kind of happy with this season, but sometimes the taking on and taking off and where is that glove? is a pain.
But Fall Fashions. I happened to really look at people on the subway and the street today. I don't tend to notice them in the same way in the Summer. (Lies, really, because there are some really noticeable"girls in their summer dresses" and hot college guys in shorts. Perv.)
Anyway, Fall. I am just going to say it: People in New York just look smarter than people elsewhere. They dress smart. They dress adventurously. They know how to hang a shoulder bag or wear a cap. Women (and men) pull off Glen Plaid wool trousers like champs. They layer well. They stand like they are in a spread for WWD. They walk with those little dogs and look good. How do they do that?
Notice I say "they" and not "we." I have no dress sense at all and my ass sags and I wear t-shirts with grotty sweatshirts and I look like I am hiding. I need a makeover. M nose has acne. Theirs doesn't. That has been my fashion statement for Fall -AcneNose.
And don't get me started on the European families coming here. They all look like they are out of some stunning catalogue that sells sweaters and ginger bread and apple cider.
I dunno. If LA got all the various weather would people look as cool? I don't think so. Four words: Gold Lame Down Jackets And as for San Francisco, I think all the clothing would be too angry. And the rest of the country, who knows.
It was a slow news/nose day here at Man. Hat. In.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
I was walking in the park, which is not a good place to stay warm, and decided to go to the Chanel Mobile Art exhibit since I surmised (correctly as it turned out) that there would be few people at this free event today due to the chill.
Cold weekdays are for the hardy unemployed, not the hardly unemployed.
This exhibit with a space designed by Pritzker Prize winner Zaha Hadid contains works by many artists who all use the Chanel quilted bag as their muse.
There are loads of really beautiful lads and lassies all in black Chanel gear milling about to help guide you through your "experience." Everything now is not commerce-masked-as-art or food or a drive or a walk, it is an "experience." It is marketing. It is words.
Hadid's art cube reminded me of Woody Allen's orgasmatron in Sleeper. Going into this womb, I was greated by beautiful Chanelized women with accents who adjusted my mp3 player with the language of my choice and the volume of my comfort so I could walk through this 35 minute aural-gasm narrated by Jeanne Moreau, no less. Jeanne's smokey voice talks you through the various installations. She even tells you when to stand up and when to turn left, etc. I appreciated that. I bet her French was even better than her English, which was excellent.
Jeanne and I spent the next 35 minutes together having an experience that leaves you wanting.
Wanting a Chanel quilted bag.
I even want one now. Yipes.
So there is this negligible fine line between art and commerce. So what? Well, it creeps me out because I feel I lose trust. I did however appreciate that if I decided to give into it it was a nice meditative experience to be had. And I had it. And it was peaceful, but never moving. But peaceful and warm and dry and full of pretty things and restorative sounds.
And this boy still wanted a purse.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Just so you know what the organization's function is I print their mission statement:
The New York City Anti-Violence Project is dedicated to eliminating hate violence, sexual assault, stalking, and domestic violence in lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and HIV-affected communities through counseling, advocacy, organizing, and public education.
It is hard to talk about violence toward others and gift bags and beet/goat cheese salads and a champagne bar in the same breath, but this evening was wonderful, celebratory and really sent a strong message that violence towards the GLBT dot, dot, dot community is alive and thriving. Shocking really how people can hate that much. But then looking around at this election, I guess not really.
Alan Cumming was presented with the Courage Award and gave a really moving, impassioned speech. The Executive Director also spoke very well. Good speeches, good power point, and good chicken. Really, it was good chicken.
I got to hang with Jerry and my pal Sam and met some other really nice people. There was a dessert bar that was really hard to avoid. I got out with my life and one cannoli which I counted in my Weight Watchers points for the day. What a hit I took on that. (Funny to see how many dinner rolls were cast aside in a room full of carbo-fearful gay boys!)
The event was held at this great space call Espace on 42nd between 10th and 11th. I think it means "really, really far from the subway" in French. I loved the venue, however, because it has these levels and different lights and really lent itself well to mixing and mingling. And I love mixing and mingling. Even with seltzer water, my new drink of choice.
Gosh, I should scrap this whole entry as one can never hit the right tone reporting on a banquet when the purpose is to raise money and awareness for combating violence against others. Sorry if I offend, but I am glad I got to link to this worthy org.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
As is my usual on Sundays I met friends in the Village for brunch, but due to the gloriousiosity of the day, I persuaded Pat and John to walk up the Hudson River Greenway part way before they would head East for home. I think they felt the spirit too as "we were living our lives in the City." A feeling, when I have it and I have it often, is never a waste or foolish.
Along the way Pat pointed out the hotel where the survivors of the Titanic stayed. NOT audience members from the original Broadway production, but the ship. Wow. We even saw a picture of the ship that took the survivors into the New York City. We are so only leasing this land, people, there were so many others before us. Wow.
John pointed out, well, he didn't exactly point it out because it is MASSIVE and right in front of you, the aircraft carrier the USS Intrepid. But he did splain me all about it. I was impressed with the carrier and with John. This hunk of steel, sorry not you John, was in WWII, Vietnam and later collected spacecraft when they landed.back on planet Earth. How many of us can say that? She will now be a museum right here where I found her.
John and Pat parted and I headed north to the UWS on what I think is one of the loveliest stretches of the parkway. (Let me leave you for a moment to shout into a paper bag "I LIVE HERE!! OMG! I AM SO HAPPY.) Back. People were biking, strolling, and lovers were doing whatever that thing is that escapes me, and people were reading on benches looking out to the Hudson River. Kids were playing softball. And I was taking it all in for myself.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
I have to remember to thank God every day I get to live in New York City and be a part of the fabric of it all. I am so, so lucky with so much. I am unemployed, single and 4 bags of flour overweight, but I am in a place that is beyond functional, it is magical. And with magical, I feel anything is possible. Including me.
Friday, October 24, 2008
I secretly have always adored Michael. He is such a fun, funny, sweet and good natured young chap. He even has eye-twinklage. In fact, I kind of want to be him. I am glad we have kept in touch. We lived around the corner from each other in Silver Lake, but rarely borrowed sugar. One of us was always in Europe, shooting.
We had a drink and chatted about dating, working, and adopting babies from countries that are in right now. The usual urban boy chat. Then it was over to Upright Citizens Brigade to catch a show. This is home to many "30 Rock" and "SNL" folk and you can still see a show for a FIVER! No drink minimum! Why am I not here always?
And because we started when most people were still out earning a living, our night ended at 8pm as we air-kissed on 8th Avenue and the cooler one of us headed to his downtown pad, and I, I mean, the other one, headed uptown.
I even have a photo of the two of us to document this most excellent night, but the camera oddly added 22 pounds only to my side of the frame and my vanity will not permit unfortunate double chinnage being exposed worldwide to my 5.5 global readers.
Michael, of course, looks cute as a button.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Stella and me at St. Anne's Warehouse. Can't you Just FEEL the bubble over her head thinking "Keerist, I don't get paid enough!"
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Wow, in writing I get that all out fine. But I have to SAY it in front of a theatre full of people since I am introducing the film tonight.
So all day was spent trying to pronounce it correctly. And get it to flow out of my mouth like m social security number. I don't want to be a horse's ass or appear like I don't know FILM! My God. Stand back. I worked at Sundance. Blah, blah, blah.
I had to look up the phonetic spelling on line and then try and try and try to make it part of my list of words I throw out everyday. Can you pass the synecdoche? I practice in the mirror, on Columbus (the street, not the man), in the subway. I was having a mental block and fear was seeping in. It was 4:30pm and I am still Eliza Doolittle from the beginning of the play. Blimey!
"As the sands of time ran down... The hour glass representing my lifespan" -- HEY!! A perfect example of, of ski-nek-toe-tee.
On top of the intro I was doing a Q & A with the producer, Anthony Bregman, and I certainly didn't want to screw up my pronunciation when he was there, though I am certain he is used to it.
My God, man, I get the take off on Schenectady, New York and that it stands for "the part for the whole, the whole for the part," but, still, what the hell?!!!!
Whatever you do do not think about the T in Schenectady when you are trying to say synecdoche. Don't! And DO not think about dead comedian Andy Kaufman when you want to talk about Charlie Kaufman. Don't do it. Or even Bergman, the filmmaker. Anthony's name is Breg-man. And the T is silent in his first name. F*ck.
"So Mr. Bergman, when Andy Kaufman approached you about this film and said it was going to called Skin-eck-doo-dee what was your first reaction?"
I am so effed.
Mr. Bregman could not have been nicer and told some great stories. I got the words out correctly and we had a lively Q & A. All went smoothly.
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
If I WERE to do this, one tip might be: "get working friends to take you out to dinner on expense accounts pretending you are a client." This way you both get a free meal and you get practice at being a client of something. Win, win.
My friend Concepcion McGraw (not her real name) did such a thing tonight. She took me to out to dinner and expensed it. The stress was relieved for both of us. Well, actually just for me. I didn't have to pay and I didn't need to feel guilty that she was paying for me and that I could take her out when I have a job. That thing.
We went to Candle Cafe on Third Avenue. This is a Vegan restaurant. I don't know why I capitalize Vegan, but I fear that if I don't I might piss one of them off like it is a religion or a nationality. But having made that wee dig, the people there were not like that at all. Our server (NOT servant, asswipe, I didn't say that. "Ser-ver") was tall, blond and willowy and really, really nice. With a sense of humor fit for a meat-eater. But her only steaks are made from tofu or seitan. And she had great skin. Pretty, a wry sense of humor and great skin. Oh Jesus, make me a Vegan.
Concepcion had an Indian from India inspired concoction. She threw me the naan bread since she doesn't do bread anymore. (I guess she can one-up Vegans at their own game. Soon she will be gnawing on hemp and drinking her own urine?) I had the comfort platter of weeds, and puree of something and tofu. I have to say it was excellent. We split a quinoa. It was such a lovely meal and a fun time. All at someone else's expense.
Tofu, Quinoa, Seitan. All seem like names someone in Marin would give their daughter. I'm just saying. "Tofu, don't forget yoga class after school."
All in all a perfect night spent socializing with a good friend while Rome burns and we charge her for it.
I need to get a rotation with my working stiffs and sell them on the idea that I am "good practice" for when they have real clients. This way I save money, I get to hang with people I like and they get better at their jobs. Win, win. I am such a good man.
Monday, October 20, 2008
This tells me that before I accept a job I should have: abs, written a book, been to Laos and worked with old people. I then look at my stomach and know I am no where near any of it.
Here is my everyday TO DO list:
Go to a meeting
Clutter clear apartment
Clutter clear computer
Take better care of skin
Do something with your surroundings (ie museum, etc.)
Find a job.
I think I blog and go to meetings and the gym (most often, but not daily)
I have such anxiety over all the rest. I am not a good reader, clutter clearer, meditator, skin taker carer of.
And then I feel put upon by e-mails (It is okay if I send them) and phone calls (it is okay if I make them) and just want to keep all the people happy, the plates spinning and get a job in the meanwhile. A good fitting job that is a pay-off for all the calls and emails and books I am (not )reading and all the multi-media I am (not) learning.
Aren't I supposed to be listening to jazz some forgotten Tuesday night? Or having friends over for roast chicken with sage "just because." More like roast chicken with rage!
My plates (that are still in storage) are not up and spinning. I don't have kids. I have no spouse. I have NO FRIGGIN' job. What is my damn excuse?
I get so stressed about fearing meditation that the anxiety built around it is palpably ironic.
I cannot sit still to read. I have stuff TO DO. Wait, reading is on my TO DO list. But I can't right now. I have to check the stove.
Oh, the phone calls. More and more. I am not saying I want no one to call me. Please don't do that, but I can't call you back.
I am Amy in "Company." Today I am her.
No. Stop. I have to do the dishes and then think of ten jobs I could see myself doing.
Oh, I forgot to call... Wait, I have to take out the garbage. I will do that and then meditate which will clear my head to find work.
I think I am going to watch "The Daily Show" from last night.
I hate Sarah Palin. Rage. I hate her. THIS is a good use of time! Here we go. I will send out 100 e-mails telling people in CA to vote NO on 8.
Wait. Did I get back about that? Did I arrange someone to speak at this? Where are my bagpipes?
Wait. It is nightfall I have to go meet so and so.
Ahhh, I am home. I can still make calls to CA. Wait I want to be alone. I don't want to speak.
I will watch some sitcom I recorded.
No, this is not doing it. I am going to watch Rachel Maddow. There I am wallowing in rage and it is too late to call anyone OR look for a job OR play pipes. I am happy.
OMG. I should be reading the New Yorker on the subway!!!!!!!!
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Saturday, October 18, 2008
And back in Cherry Valley we stopped at Rury's Food Store where I got to meet Mr. Rury, a WWII vet who keeps an old fashioned grocery with wooden shelves and hand cut bacon. I was back in time and that was fine by me. The next stop was Celtic import shop that had bagpipes! and bagpipe CDs. Who would think it? The woman who owns the shop is a piper and she knows people in my band!! I get "small world," but upstate NY small world for me? That is amazing.
Friday, October 17, 2008
I always love road trips as they are license to eat crap, as if healthy food is forbidden along any interstate. Every Ding Dong, Cheeto and gooey whatever is fair game to provide much needed energy for a 4 hour drive. We stopped for pizza at a truck stop and it was delicious. And one giant slice will not do the trick as much as two giant slices. Washed down with ice cream at the next stop when we refill the tank. Mmmmm, road trips and broken hearts go well together.
We got to Cherry Valley around 12:30pm and I was just amazed at how warm and beautiful their place is, but when I think about how warm and beautiful my place is in town, which Aris decorated, I shouldn't be.
Ahhh, sweet slumber in the country. G'night.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
So today in New York, I met up with a friend I had not seen in 20 years, I went to a screening and got to hear Richard Jenkins speak, I hung in the Village with a good friend and watched an animatronic ape masturbate to Discovery porn. I know this can happen in any city, but not really. New York has that special way of unfolding itself in the moment and at the moment. And at the moment, in my life, I am here and grateful to able to receive its bounty.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Thank God it is a TIVO world where we are able to see both or it would have been too scary to have to accept where eyeballs went between the two programs on offer. All I can say is it SCREAMED for a merger where Project Runway finalists get to dress the debaters and America polls on content AND style! Think about it, we are already a declining world power and why don't we just spell it out that politics and art and reality TV are all one in the same, really.
But first...my friend Sarah invited me to come all the way to Brooklyn to hear The Grand Street Community Band in concert. I am so, so glad I did. Sarah plays the clarinet and her husband David plays the Trombone in the band. How cool is that? I want them for parents! I thoroughly enjoyed the concert and hope more people will come to their next one in December. I especially loved "Prelude, Siciliano and Rondo" by Malcolm Arnold and "October" by a very young composer, Eric Whitacre. I say that because it makes me sound like I have an opinion on classical music.
The Grand Street Community Band at play
Being in that hall listening to this all-volunteer orchestra made me realize that this is what makes the world go round. This is actually important: the fact that people do this stuff. THIS is the stuff. Once we lose community concerts, theatre, little league, bagpipe bands (!) and art classes at the Y, it is all over. I say this because it makes me sound thoughtful, civic and compassionate.
Tried to capture the shiny silver shoes, but iphone camera was not up to their brilliance
Sarah and I air kissed after the concert as one would and she and David invited me and clarinet #3, Miranda, back to their house for Taco Night. The name is based on what they were serving, of course, and they made it sound all official, but this was the first time they ever did it. We got to hunker down with excellent tacos (hard shell with soft shell mortared to the outside with guacamole, Ymmm) and watch the debates AND Project Runway in HD! Sarah served freshly-baked black cat sugar cookies for afters. She made and served and hosted the whole event in a simple black concert dressed. Not sure who designed it. Didn't ask. It was a great night and I am so, so glad I went.I do have to plug that Sarah is an excellent writer and very quick on the wit. She has a blog which I link to on mine called So Ricarded with Ricard being her last night. I hope this plug shames her into writing more as it has been ages since she has had anything to say. Blogwise.