Friday, May 28, 2010


Not really having much to say, I thought I’d sit down and write anyway.

When I first started this blog, The Man said “This is good.  You’ll write everyday and get better!”  Everyday?  Has he been awake for the past four years?  I don’t do anything every day, but eat, smoke and sleep (well, sometimes not even sleep).

Oh, and I’m certain that I listen to music each day.  I am right now.  While I type this, I have my music library playing through the computer’s music system.  I have my entire library of CDs on my hard drive.  Right now, a song that I’m not even sure that I have ever heard is playing.  I am fairly certain that it is Matthew Sweet.  I own most of his work, and I’m almost sure that this is his voice.  Probably from Altered Beast.  I never listen to it.  Yep, I’m good.  “Knowing People” from Altered Beast.  I like it.  This is followed-up by Kelly Willis’ “Teddy Boys” from Translated From Love.  Good stuff!

I’m drinking TheraFlu right now.  Yuck.  I took a vacation day today to get a full four-day weekend (because of the Memorial holiday).  And then spent the day in bed.  And I got to thinking about Karma.  And why so many people believe in this.  We’ll get back to that.

My female cat is driving me crazy.  Whenever I sit at my desk (and that’s quite a lot), she sits at my feet and meows loudly.  I’ll pet her and pet her, but it’s never enough.  I never could satisfy a woman.  I’m still petting and she’s still meowing, but now Massenet’s La Vierge (Act 4) is playing.  Four and ½ minutes of sheer beauty, sweet and lyrical.

Karma.  When I originally planned to take the day off, I intended to completely conceal it from The Man.  I wanted a day completely to myself.  So I planned to tell him on Thursday evening.  I was afraid that he would take the day too if he knew of my plan early enough.  I did end up telling him on Tuesday night, I believe.  He didn’t mention taking a vacation day himself.  I was relieved.  But when Thursday came, I was starting to feel under the weather.  And come today, I was in the bed with body aches, fever and chills.  And I immediately thought sarcastically at myself, “Serves you right, Queer.  You were so concerned in getting your day off to yourself.  Enjoy!”  And then I thought about Karma, and why so many people believe in it?  I’m convinced the reason that I believe in “what comes around, goes around” or “good things happen to good people” or “everything happens for a reason,” is based on my Christian upbringing. 

“The Art Teacher” by Rufus Wainwright is on now.  I love Rufus.  The Man is not a big fan.  But the player is on suffle, and here comes Squeeze with “Another Nail in My Heart” from Argy Bargy.  And who doesn’t like Squeeze?

And back to Karma.  Almost everyone believes in some sort of Karma.  Regardless of race, creed, sex or religious background.  As I’ve said on more than one occasion that he is a “Chaotist.”  He believes in Chaos Theory.  That nothing happens for a reason.  He recently ordered a book on-line called “The Symmetry of Chaos.”  He was excited when he received it in the mail.  Then he came to show me with all the shine gone from his face.  The text of the book looked like stereo instructions.  It was a textbook!  He was so disappointed.  “I’m not reading this!”

All good.  “Me and My Girl” by David Baerwald just came on the player.  And the thunder starts like crazy outside.  The Man comes in to tell me that a bad storm is coming, hail and damaging winds expected.  And David Baerwald from Here Comes the New Folk Underground sings.
Me and my girl
Are going to do
Just fine in this world
I guess that’s what I’m writing about tonight.

Thursday, May 20, 2010

On Being Blue

I’m blue.  One of my good friends says, at least once a week, “Queer, you are SO blue!”  I reckon she’s right.

She and I work together.  We were brought into the company almost three years ago now, along with about 30 other men and women.  The department was in a sort of totally screwed-up shape, had become known as a people-mill (sucking in and spitting out employees at rapid speeds), and had finally got the approval for a mass-hire to help stop the bleeding.  

So my friend and I were part of a large grueling training regimen.  This started with a full week of nothing but specifications training that made me want to cut myself by class end on Wednesday.  The next two weeks were mainly training on our sister departments in the company and customer-service skills.  

But the three-week training nightmare was brought to a close with a little team building activity.  The final class was a type of personality study that divided people into three different color categories:   Red, Green, and Blue.  The Red folks were the leaders, who took charge, didn’t mind hurting feelings and, above all, got things done.  The Green segment was the worker bees, those dedicated to the details, wanting to find solutions and solve problems.  The Blue group were composed of those who were all about feelings, making sure people around them were “all right,” and maintaining a social workplace.

Yes, my friend was exactly right.  The Queer is Blue.  Archetypically Blue.  No surprise to me.  I had taken similar personality tests.  One at a former employer was all about colors as well.  I was Yellow for that test, not Blue.  But for that test, the “yellows” were the “people-people.”  (and man … do I hate to hear someone refer to himself as a “people-person.” Ugh.)

I had taken the Myers-Briggs test.  ENFP.  Yep, classic.  From the Wikipedia description of ENFPs:
ENFPs are initiators of change, keenly perceptive of possibilities. They energize and stimulate others through their contagious enthusiasm. They prefer the start-up phase of a project or relationship, and are tireless in the pursuit of new-found interests. ENFPs are able to anticipate the needs of others and to offer them needed help and appreciation. They bring zest, joy, liveliness, and fun to all aspects of their lives. They are at their best in situations that are fluid and changing, and that allow them to express their creativity and use their charisma. They tend to idealize people, and can be disappointed when reality fails to fulfill their expectations. They are easily frustrated if a project requires a great deal of follow-up or attention to detail.
And that is why I surprise many people.  In my writing, I may come across more laid back that I actually appear in person.  I’ve stunned a couple of guys, who I communicated with on-line over a long period of time before meeting.  When the face-to-face happened, I often got quite puzzled looks.  I’m a bit more energetic and animated in the flesh.

But I always express.  Expressions of amusement at some mishap that I may have been in the middle of, usually manifested in laughter and kidding those who are in the boat with me.  Expressions of outrage when the odds are insurmountable, marked by my outbursts on the department floor and my stating to my co-workers that my resignation letter is already typed on my hard-drive.  Expressions of concern when one of my team is in over her head.

This concern showed itself tonight.  There are five women who I check on each night before I leave the floor.  Tonight one of the women was in the cubicle of one of the others.  When I stuck my head in and asked like always “Let’s go.” (I guess that’s not a question), she sighed and said that she had too much work.  

The three of us (along with another of my daily “check-ees”) tackled the outstanding issues in minutes, dissecting the problems, tearing them apart and solving them deftly.  We "greened" it up.

As we four exited the building on the way to the parking garage, one of the women (our de-facto "red" leader) suggested that I send a text message to my final “check-ee” (who is visiting family in the Middle East) and let her know not to bring her lunch tomorrow.  We were planning to eat at the nearby Asian restaurant.  So I did, and we laughed.

Although it is eight hours later where she is, my friend texted back:

Enjoy :-)  I’ll won’t bring my lunch tomorrow :-)
We’ll see her in two weeks.

Hell, I’ll be as Blue as you want me to be.

Saturday, May 15, 2010

I Got The Papers On You

Going to a party!

The birthday of my sister happened earlier in the week, so we’re getting together today for fried chicken and ice-cream cake with some pool time to boot.
Now to be totally honest, she’s not my sister.   But she is.  We’ve both got the family insanity (but good).  She’s threatened to kill me (on more than one occasion – and truly meant it).   We tease each other relentlessly and laugh our butts off about it (my partner laughs along – her partner thinks we are both insane).

When we first met – about a million years ago – I liked her instantly.  She has a sharp tongue, bottomless eyes and (holy moley!) freckles (yes, I’m a fool for freckles – The Man has ‘em).  She and I hit it off pretty well and hung out together quite a lot.
She’s a master of subtlety (she kinda has to be – her partner is the mistress of directness).  I dated a guy for almost a year.  Toward the end, I absolutely knew that the partner completely hated the guy.  “I’m so glad that is over.”  She sighed when the relationship screeched to a halt. 

I turned to my Sis, “Did you like him?”

She smiled sheepishly “Not really…”  Wow, she was good.  She never let on.

Now I don’t want to paint the picture that she is covert and sly, she is old-school South.  Her mother is from an old New Orleans family, so my sis was “raised right.”  I was amazed the first time that I gave her a present … and I received a “thank you” note.  Seriously?  A “thank you” note?  Wow, I must be an ungrateful SOB, because I don’t believe that I’ve ever sent a “thank you” note for a birthday present in all my life.  (I think she is the extraordinary one here, not me).

Concrete Autographs

She’s a collection of contradictions:
  • she gets up early for exercise; she loves to sleep in.
  • she says that she doesn’t like people; she has more friends than anyone that I know.
  • she’ll come across harder than nails, then gets all teary-eyed when I tell her how much she means to me.
So, Happy Birthday, Sis … I adopted you.  I think I’ve got the papers in the glove-box of my truck.  You know … that truck that we two knuckle-heads used to pull up a palm tree in your back yard.  They should really keep us separated …

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

LOST...That About Sums It Up

I opened my browser to write my post this evening. Yahoo is my homepage. And on the right-hand side of the page, I see:


1) Dunkin’ Donuts

2) Hole in Space

3) Evangeline Lilly

4) Kristin Chenoweth

5) Cynthia Nixon

6) David Cameron

7) Erica Blasberg

8) Tiger Woods

9) Rhinoceros Escape

10) Lost

Well, OK … hmm. Let me take a stab at this with no research. As I’ve said before, I’m not much for following the news. This could be interesting … or completely idiotic. I guess we’ll find out at the end.

  • I’m not sure why Dunkin’ Donuts is trending at #1. Good Coffee, but #1? Dang, there must be some big donut news.
  • Hole in Space? I actually wrote a blog on this.  Plus, The Man and I were watching the Discovery Channel last night. There were fascinating programs on Black Holes, The Universe, and Massive Stars. But were that many people watching Discovery Channel last night?
  • Evangeline Lilly. Who is that? Never heard of her.
  • Kristin Chenoweth. Who is that? I have heard of her. I don’t know why.
  • Cynthia Nixon. C’mon…I’m gay. Of course I’ve heard of her. Sex and the City. Did she finally come out? Or did she already do that? (I’m such a current events numbskull ... or just old and forgetful)
  • David Cameron. Who is that? (I really need to check these people out after I finish writing this … but I more than likely will not).
  • Erica Blasberg. Holy crap! I have no idea who these people are. I must be living in a cave.
  • Tiger Woods. WHY?! Is this story still interesting to people?!
  • Rhinoceros Escape. Now. Finally. A story I will investigate. (This could be tomorrow's post)
  • Lost. I haven’t seen even one episode. I watch American Idol (I’m a nerd). I watch the Simpsons (I’m an adolescent). I watch the Soup (I just have a huge crush on Mankini). 

So …how quickly we’ve established that I may be more than a little out of step with Pop Culture. And somehow my world will keep turning. American Idol comes on in 8 minutes.

See ya…

Monday, May 10, 2010

"Quack ... Quack ... Girlfriend!"

I’m usually not one to give additional attention to people who I believe are crazy (I’m usually too busy trying to shine the light on my own insanity). Therefore I do not normally talk about people like Ann Coulter, Sean Hannity, Fred Phelps or Rush Limbaugh. But I am going to mention this fellow … Ryan Sorba. And the only reason I am going to point him out now is so you won’t be surprised when he is exposed as a homo.

As I have said in other posts, I am not one to follow the news. So I stumbled onto Sorba by accident. The Gay Press seems to be giving this man a lot of exposure though. One of the reasons that he is getting the pink spotlight is that CNN is developing a new chapter in their “…in America” series. So far they’ve given us “Black in America” and “Latino in America.” Now they offer up “Conservatives in America.” (Reminder to The Queer: don’t watch this show). There are rumors that Sorba is going to be one of the first subjects of the program.

Ryan Sorba is just another angry white conservative young man. What does he have to be angry about? I have no clue. I believe that most young men are just naturally angry. The target of Sorba’s resentment?  Homosexuals. Hmm… I’m not really sure how queers are messing with his existence, but let’s take a look:
  • In a recent post on his blog, he writes somewhat vaguely about the true spirit of marriage.  He implies a comparison between a hypothetical marriage of a 10 year-old and a 90 year-old with a homosexual union.
As least in place of the May-December romance, he did not use a man and a sheep as the example.
  • He has said that equal rights are based on human nature. And that the natural end to reproductive acts is procreation.
Dude… if the only time you are having sex is to make a baby, you are missing out on a lot of fun.
  • He was asked to speak at the CPAC (The American Conservative Union) in February 2010, and then blasted the group for their decision to invite GoProud (a gay conservative group).
Smart move, Dumb Butt. You got yourself booed off the stage.  Know the difference between your friends and your enemies next time...

People who behave this way just make me laugh. So, honestly...let the man talk. It’s entertaining to some people.  When replying to an e-mail from the Washington Post questioning his upcoming appearance on CNN, he replied with a tagline in Spanish (obviously he is not supportive of the conservatives' stance on immigration in Arizona).

I myself will not be surprised when he eventually reveals himself as the big sissy that he obviously is. Just take a look at Bob Allen, Larry Craig, Mark Foley, Ted Haggard, George Rekers, James West, Glenn Murphy, Jr. (I could go on forever…)

After these wonderful examples, the old saying should go: 
"If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck…it might be a queen."

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Nashville Probably Won't Be Happy...And I'm Not Exactly Jumping Up and Down

Big news? Well, not really…if you ask me...

Chely Wright is coming out of the closet. And while I applaud Ms. Wright for stepping out of the shadows, I will tell the gay press that this new story is probably not as huge as you would like for it to be. 

Ok, I get it. Chely Wright is a country music star. So the annoucement will be a bit more controversial, especially since she is not planning on changing her chosen genre of recording. But (absolutely no disrespect intended) … it’s not like Carrie Underwood or Taylor Swift or even Kellie Pickler are identifying themselves as lesbian.  I've heard of her, but I would imagine that the general public would say "Chely Wright ...she sounds vaguely familiar..."

I genuinely do not mean to rain on Chely’s or the gay movement’s parade. Any public figure coming out helps the general cause (well … there are some people that I do wish weren’t gay…but I won’t be hateful and name names).

But let’s look at Chely’s success up to this point in time. I was raised in rural northwest Louisiana, so I followed country music a lot back in the day. And I still listen to a bit of the genre … I’ve got a mean crush on Trisha Yearwood. But, to be honest, I do not know Ms. Wright's work.

According to my research, she won the Academy of Country Music’s Best New Artist award back in 1994 (when her debut album was released). Let’s look at some other “Best New Artist” winners:
  • 1999 – Academy of Country Music – Jessica Andrews (again, no disrespect intended, but…who?)
  • 1996 – Country Music Association – Bryan White (I have no clue who this guy is...)
  • 1990 – Grammy – Milli Vanilli (enough said…)
Apparently she scored a #1 hit or two and quite a few Top 10s. But after reviewing the titles, I do not believe I’ve heard a single one of the songs. In 2001, she was also selected as one of People magazine’s "50 Most Beautiful People," and she is undeniably beautiful. She just released an album produced by one of my country-music heroes, Rodney Crowell. And in my world, that gives her a big feather in her cap. I’ll probably even buy the album without hearing a note, just to support her. And I trust Mr. Crowell just that much…

So, again … I am not trying to pick apart this whole celebrity “coming-out.” All famous fags and dykes should show the world who they really are.  I could tell every one of you gays & lesbians that the people who really matter on this planet will never stop loving you, regardless of your sexual orientation.

I'm reminded of a certain male country music star, who back in the mid-90s was caught in a sex scandal.  He was riding the wave of a #1 hit from his debut album.  Then he solicited sex from an undercover police officer in a Fort Worth park.  In addition, he was charged with possession of crystal meth. Charges were eventually dropped.  He declared publically that he was not gay and that the drugs had merely made him act outside of his true character.  In the aftermath, he managed to have some additional success in the country music field. But eventually that tapered off.  I read that this year he will be releasing a contemporary Christian recording.  I also read that he had filed bankruptcy and was on his second divorce.  Wonder if it's the drugs again ... or maybe he's just having a difficult time fighting his basic nature.

And if my son reads this post, I have just two words for you, buddy ... Pooka Shell.

Monday, May 3, 2010

The Queer Behaving Badly

I guess it officially happened. I transformed into a fussy queen. Not a crazy, driving-on-two-wheels-on-the-Drag-Race-of-life fussy queen, but a fussy queen nonetheless. It happened one Saturday morning…

Each Saturday, The Man and I get together with a group of friends for breakfast. It’s very nice. We get to discuss what’s happened in the preceding week, talk about cultural events, and debate opinions on current news topics. Most often, our Saturday breakfasts are the only way I find out what is going on in the world outside of my family, work, and friends.

We typically move around the city to different restaurants each weekend. We do have our favorite picks that are in the mix regularly. But sometimes a new eating place is introduced, usually by one of the gang who has discovered it on his own. One Saturday morning, we decided to meet in a café that was housed in a shopping district near the nearby private university. Disaster.

Driving into the parking lot, I noticed a large number of what seems to be high-school-aged young ladies all dressed in matching t-shirts, shorts and sneakers. I guessed that they were members of a soccer or lacrosse team. They were accompanied by a man (who was about my age) who I assumed to be their coach. No worries yet.

I parked the truck, and The Man and I entered the restaurant. What?! Counter-service?!! And the 30 or so young ladies were already lined up to order. Holy crap!

We had arrived a little late and all of our friends were already seated, drinking coffee. I flopped down against the wall in the seat and grumbled a “good-morning” to everyone. And then dropped out of the conversation by playing on my phone. Being as accommodating as he always is, The Man asked what I would like to eat. “Whatever. Omelet. Egg, cheese, bacon. Toast.” The rest of the breakfast group just looked at the two of us as if we’d just walked off an alien aircraft.  But The Man ordered my food, delivered it to me, and brought me coffee plus refills.

This was the first time that the Saturday Breakfast Group had visited a restaurant without table service. As I explained to them, I am not a morning person. I want someone to bring me coffee in the mornings. I do not want to have to go get it myself. Thank The Man. In the mornings when he knows I’m rousing, he prepares my coffee and puts it on my desk, every morning. Every morning. Yes, ya’ll … I’m spoiled. I know that.

The gang was just amused and a little shocked at my over-reaction. But from that point on, we had an unwritten rule about no establishments without table service because of the Queer/Queen.

Until a couple of weeks ago…

The unofficial “official” leader of the group found a beignet place. He wanted to try it out. Seeing that I am from Louisiana, he asked if I could forego my “no-counter-service” rule. Grudgingly, I agreed. Mistake.

We arrived rather early. 8:30 AM. The restaurant was not very crowded. The breakfast menu was unbelievingly undersized. So I just went and order some beignets and an egg casserole. With the Café-Au-Lait, it was around 12 bucks! Fried dough, baked eggs and coffee with milk! AND I had to serve myself.

I started firing off angry messages on Twitter. And then snidely sharing what I was writing with all of my breakfast mates. Ooo...what a jerk...

After breakfast, The Man went around and hugged everyone. I just waved at the gang and stomped out to the truck.

Of course, I felt bad about it later. So I sent an e-mail to all of my friends who were at breakfast that morning. This is basically what I said.

I would like to apologize to everyone who was at breakfast this morning.  Just because I'm a Prima-Donna does not mean that I need to turn into a grump and try to spoil everyone's good time.

I did make the executive decision to not attend breakfast when I know the scheduled establishment does not serve me like the Prince that I apparently believe myself to be.

Each one of them responded with something along the lines of “no big deal … don’t worry about it!” And each one was sincere. I even got “I love you and would miss you if you weren’t at breakfast.” And to push it further, I got “Your little rants amuse me. Don’t change.”

I guess if I needed a definition of friendship, I got it.

I still demand table service for breakfast, DAMMIT.