Body & Soul Reunion Party

I've wrangled a large portion of my posse to attend tomorrow's Body & Soul party at Pacha. I've only been to two Body & Soul parties: the final event and 2004's Reunion Party. Both were just tear-the-roof-off-the-sucker out of this world. I'm hoping for more of the same. Aaron tells me the last reunion party drew 6500 crazies. We plan on arriving at 7pm, just in case.

Rosie O'Donald

I like Rosie O'Donnell. Despite the Tom Cruise nonsense, despite the "ching-chong" controversy, I think she is one ballsy bitch dyke. And this recent hilarity that the tabs are calling "Rosie O'Donald" just reinforces my admiration. But America doesn't feel the same, apparently. According to today's Editor & Publisher, Gallup polls show that Rosie has a 63% unfavorable rating from the general public, worse than Trump's 48%. And isn't it wonderful how Gallup has its finger on the pulse of the really important issues?

What I Learned Last Night

If you've never had a cigarette, the first one gets you kinda high. Wasn't expecting that.

Esposo Y Esposo

A northern Mexican state approved gay unions yesterday. Coahuila, population 2.3 million, borders Texas and hosts hundreds of maquiladoras, factories set up by U.S. companies to exploit the cheap local labor pool. Crazy. It's just about the last place in this hemisphere that I'd expect to approve gay unions. Today Coahuila, tomorrow Oaxaca!

Morning View - Miss Lee

Yesterday's open thread made me snap this pic of Miss Lee's establishment on East 60th Street near Bloomingdales. Somebody told me yesterday that visiting a psychic was just as satisfying and therapeutic as seeing a professional therapist. I'd buy that. Hey, are there any psychic therapists? "I predict that it's all your mother's fault."

FTL V. NYC

Yesterday I got an email from a friend who recently left NYC for Fort Lauderdale:

Hopefully by the time Spring rolls around, I’ll be back in NYC full-time. I don’t know how you handled living down here. I am BORED OUT OF MY MIND. The only thing saving my sanity is that I have some decent friends down here. I can understand why there are so many crystal freaks in FTL – there’s nothing else to do! BORED. BEYOND. BELIEF.

It's a common complaint from New Yorkers, who seem to constitute the largest group of new Lauderdalians. People who move to Fort Lauderdale from less manic places are more wowed by the beautiful beaches and jumping bar scene, and less worn down by the endless strip malls and eternal traffic gridlock.

There's a puff piece in today's BAR, a tourist board generated (I'm guessing) story that gushes that Hurricane Wilma was a good thing for Fort Lauderdale's gay guesthouses, because "the reconstruction that followed made them better than ever." (Emphasis mine.) Wow, maybe we can hope for a tsunami and get some really great new places out of the deal!

I don't recall being bored when I lived in Fort Lauderdale, but then, I'd yet to live in San Francisco and New York. I'd be interested in hearing from New Yorkers who have moved to Fort Lauderdale and regretted it. So far, the traffic seems to remain southbound.

Last Day For Noms Closed

Four Years Of Opinion On The War

Red: Bush Approval Rating
Blue: War Worth It.
Green: Did Right Thing/Not A Mistake.
(via - Andrew Sullivan)

Over on The National Review, John Derbyshire nicely sums up the bizarre logic Bush handed us last night:

—-We can't leave Iraq without a victory.
—-Unless Maliki & Co. get their act together, we can't achieve victory.
—-If Maliki & Co. don't get their act together, we'll leave.

Sigh. It's truly a pity that the Democratic take-over of Congress has pretty much killed the impeachment movement.

Morning View - Pigeon Predator

I found this giant Red-Tailed Hawk enjoying a pigeon in Central Park. A nearby photographer mentioned that this particular hawk is the son of the famous Pale Male, the hawk that lives on Mary Tyler Moore's balcony and has created so much controversy. I say we import another couple of thousand hawks. Kill all dem pigeons! Kill 'em now!

Related: Pale Male, The Movie. Not kidding.

UPDATE: It was requested that I repost my anti-pigeon limerick:

Pigeons, dey's just feathered rats
Dey's make more noise than fucking cats
Me and neighbors, in cahoots
Stomp them with our steely boots
Make dey's little heads go splats

Open Thread Thursday

How's your love life?
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Yvonne de Carlo, 84

Farewell to Lily Munster, my favorite sitcom mom.

1. "Oh, Marilyn... the circles under your eyes. How lovely you look today."

2. "Eddie! You better start dawdling, or you're going to be on time for school!"

3. "Have you done everything? Have you put away your toys and brushed your fangs?"

Who Ya Gonna Call?

OK, you trollbusters out there, here's a class project. Some of you have noted and responded to "Regina Griggs", recently trolling the JMG comments. (The real Regina Griggs is the media spokes-hater for Parents & Friends Of Ex-Gays.) Let's engage the JMG brain-trust out there and see what y'all can do with the Fake Regina's IP address: (redacted). I understand that there's a widget or two out there than can interface IPs with GoogleMaps. First one to provide a photolink to Fake Regina's home or office, is the winner.

HomoQuotable - John Waters

"I'm a big fan of K-Fed, that's who I want to marry. What did he do that was so wrong? She's the idiot. She's the one who gave him the Ferrari. Who gives a Ferrari to rough trade? Who could blame him for taking it?" - John Waters.
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Children Of Men

Last night I saw Children Of Men starring Clive Owen, Julianne Moore, and Michael Caine. It was bleak, grim, depressing, violent. I loved it. I've always dug the apocalyptic, dystopian sort of movies (The Stand, The Day After, Threads), and Children Of Men is the best of its sort that I've seen in ages. Directed by Alfonso Cuarón (Y Tu Mamá También), Children depicts the 2028 world's descent into chaos after no child had been born in 18 years, due to all the world's women being struck infertile by a mysterious virus.

The flick opens with the terrorist bombing of a London cafe and the next two hours are a grim march of police beatings, refugee camps, and tank vs. bazooka battles. There's none of the gee-whiz gadgetry of typical futurist movies, technology seems to have stopped advancing when the babies stopped coming. There's a couple of annoyingly unanswered questions in Children Of Men, but I strongly recommend it.

Related: It's always bugged me that Threads was never released in the US. It was shown once on PBS in 1985 and that's the one time I've seen it. There's a Zone 2 (European-format) DVD, but of course that's useless to me.

For New Yorkers: The Clearview Cinemas, bizarrely located in the Manhattan Mini-Storage building on 1st Avenue and 62nd Street, is just about the crummiest place to see a movie in Manhattan. Not recommended.

Eau de Secaucus

Seriously, it was Jersey.

Fish Needed, Stat

125th & Lexington, the 5 train.

Man With Aquarium: Hey, is this here the express train?

Joe: Yes, it is.

MWA: Nobody asked YOU, fuckhead!

OK, then.

Shivering With Antici...

UPDATE: Above: The actual iPhone.

Is everybody just sitting out there on white plastic pins and needles, waiting for today's big product announcement at Macworld? Trembling with unimaginable delight at whatever Steve Jobs is going to unveil? Tapping your credit card nervously on the edge of your keyboard, ready to BUY BUY BUY it, whatever it is? Because You. Must. Have. It? Or maybe you're just wondering if Jobs is going to jail.

UPDATE: Below: A smart-phone size comparison.

Urban Dictionary Nominee

Rock star Bob Mould just hipped me to his latest Net term: wink. Stands for "Wikipedia link". I like it, I like it. Well done, Bob. Reference the post below, here's the wink of the day.

Related: Don't miss out on Bob and Rich's big MLK weekend edition of Blowoff, this Saturday at DC's 9:30 Club. It's Mid-Atlantic Leather Weekend, all the boys, bois, boyz, Daddies, slaves, Masters, subs, doms, bears, otters and ring-tailed marmosets will be there. Hey! How come there's no wink for Blowoff?

Latest Web Dilemma: What To Wear?

In a San Francisco Chronicle story about gay men finding their spirituality, amongst the usual raft of platitudes that life in the gay ghetto "sucks", that gay culture is founded on false "fabulousness" and excessive carnality, the thing that struck me most was a casual mention of the gay hook-up website Lovetastic.com, which requires that members only post pictures of themselves fully-clothed. All that Photoshopping, wasted! Not to mention, now I have to worry about my outfit!

What Wrong With My Canary?

A mysterious gas odor has got Manhattan in a panic. Sirens, evacuations, breathless news coverage. The gas is bothering people from downtown to Harlem to Jersey City. We can faintly smell it here on the 26th floor above Grand Central, but we've just heard that Rockefeller Center (six blocks away) has been evacuated, and the PATH trains have been shut down. Weird.

UPDATE: Natural gas has no odor. Foul-smelling methyl mercaptan is added to natural gas so that leaks can be identified. According to the mayor, it is possible that a leak of the additive has occurred, as air sensors show no unusual levels of natural gas.

Mile Marker

Today I have lived in New York City for one day longer than I lived in San Francisco. Five years, nine months, 14 days. I suppose it's odd that I've tracked the time so closely, but it still feels like I've just landed here. I never planned on being in NYC this long. When I left Fort Lauderdale in 1995, I gave all my friends strict instructions that they were to remain exactly where I left them, so that once I finished my galivanting around the country, I could pick up my Florida life right where I left it.

But nearly a dozen years later, nobody is where I left them. Some have died, some have withdrawn, and some have moved away. Since I left Ft. Lauderdale, the highlight of every year has been my return visit over the ten days following Xmas. Up in Orlando, the minute the table was cleared of presents and turkey, I'd bolt for the southbound turnpike and spend the rest of my holiday blissfully decamped at my ex's house, spending the days on the beach and the nights in bars.

But not this year. In October, the ex left Fort Lauderdale with his thruple and the three of them are now just down the road in Philly, a move I protested against in vain, mostly out of my own loss. After Xmas this year, I limped back to NYC, feeling as if I'd watched only the first reel of a beloved holiday classic. Oh, I could have continued down to Fort Lauderdale. The always gracious Farmboyz offered me their pied-a-trois, but I declined, deciding to start new traditions here in Manhattan, rather than cling to a fading one.

My personal diaspora is now thoroughly scattered. I have no home base. It feels so strange.

What I Learned This Weekend

When you are hurrying to get up to your friend's apartment before you explode and die from the need to piss, make sure you don't accidentally take the Shabbat elevator.

DJ Larry Levan Tribute Party

Ah, here's something right up my disco alley. A tribute party to the Paradise Garage's DJ Larry Levan will take place Sunday, January 21st at Pacha in Hell's Kitchen. The party benefits Gay Men's Health Crisis. Martha Wash will perform and the DJs include Danny Krivit of Body & Soul. Tickets are $35 , but only $15 if you still have your old Paradise Garage ID! Levan, who died of a heart ailment in 1992, spent ten years at the helm of NYC's Paradise Garage and was one of the most influential DJs of the house music era.