Tick Farm

 

The Jetty

 

Cape Tide

 

Landfill in a Purse

There I was enjoying my longest day of the year. I was considering buying a Kindle today and my friend said, “Wait.”

I like simple advice.

Then a few hours later I was on the subway and next to me a young woman in black leggings and a shiny rhinestone necklace pulled out a Kindle. She poked around, then put it away. Next, out came the iPad. She played like a monkey (like you’re supposed to) all over the screen.

At first I thought, “Oh, she must be a reviewer of readers.”

But that was my denial engine not believing that anyone could be so insane as to zip around town with two different electronic readers in their bag.

Creativity is what gets us so many things. Redundancies, of course, too. We have to live with it. I just wish we could live with it creating everything with full knowledge that in just a few years, these things will be landfill.

Books last longer than iPads.

 

Closest Thing to CA

Provincetown is the closest thing I have experienced that feels like California. Good sea air, exceptionally laid back, lifestyle is everything. And the added bonus: it's still super queer.

Enjoy yourselves this summer.


 

Off to P-Town for the Weekend

Heading out to Provincetown for the weekend to see our girls triumph in a 130 mile bike ride from Boston to said town.

I heard last night at a party that New York State now recognizes marriages outside the state. So I could marry my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partner this weekend and make him an honest Recognized-by-a-handful-of-States-and-Washington D.C. husband. I bet if I get a few drinks in him, and maybe a clam roll, he'd do it.

 

This Grease is Freaking Me Out

Perhaps it’s a plain old neurotic personality. Little things bother me. (Toenail fungus, temperature, loud voices, chunky flows of income as opposed to smooth, garlic where it should not be…)

And then for weeks, I pretty much ignored the oil mess. I have read that going into denial is a coping mechanism and while it is often derided, it is actually an adaptive behavior that has come in very handy for us for survival.

So I’ve been a bit in denial, thinking, “Hell, they’ll put a lid on it.”

But shit. They really have no plan to do anything until they get those new wells drilled, hitting their destination by August.

It’s a monster movie.

The monster is oil.

And will it really be taken care of by August? Over six weeks away? While all these gorgeous animals are either being sucked into the ooze or fleeing, wildly, into cleaner, shallow water away from the mess where they should not be—

So my non-regulation, free enterprise at all cost friends, what say ye? Is this just the cost of doing business?

And, to my regulation friends, how do you regulate this? What is the precedent, even, and how do you know that a company knows what they are doing?

Shit happens? Oil happens?

I am not in denial any longer. I am sad and terrified. Mostly because I do not think we will learn from this. O rings (The Challenger disaster due to poor management at NASA, 1986) is what comes to mind.

Mid-June Simple Headed Ideas

When you get caught up in dogma-religion-political ideology, all analytical thought is subsumed by childish desire for a unifying theory.

If your greatest passion does not include some commerce, you are considered subversive, or even worse, lazy. Commerce is exciting. But commerce is restrictive according to who is signing the checks. The only way out: death.

New York is more interesting. Los Angeles is more fun.

The thrill of new shoes lasts five days.

The difference between a Republican and a Democrat is nothing compared to the difference between a Scientologist and a non-Scientologist.

As I get older, things hurt a whole lot more. I used to say, “I am not my teeth and hair.” Now I say, “I am not my body.” No wonder the idea of an afterlife is so appealing.

Bought a used Herman Miller Aeron chair today. I feel like I am sitting on a writing throne. It is so comfortable. And the webbing, well, I feel like you can hose me down at any time.

I really want dogs to be the next species to rise up and take over the planet. I think their pack mentality will do wonders for the globe. And their math skills are far superior to ours. However, can you imagine what all of the world’s rugs are going to smell like?

People make the mistake of thinking that what they think is logical and then make the next mistake thinking that others think like them.

Candy corn is neither candy nor corn. Talk about it.

The ego, though helmeted and riding high, is a sad warrior.

The joy of listening to your own iTunes library is inversely proportional to the joy of listening to someone else’s.

I often find myself wanting more. Then when I get it, I just want something to eat or to drink to celebrate. Which is just about more. Might be interesting to want less.

Ten little Indians?

When Frito-Lay invented Funyuns, didn’t they realize it rhymed with bunions in addition to onions? So why did they make them flesh colored?

Ginger tea is the answer. Tons of flavor. Good for your stomach. No caffeine. Not even near the caffeine family. And ginger does not dehydrate.

They're Here

Since we’ve been living in New York City since August of 2009, we have become aware that we have friends who are Republicans.

It is strange. It is hard to take. Occasionally, you wonder what the hell happened.

It is an issue of geography. Everyone in Southern California is a Democrat. It makes complete sense. This is a more relaxed, live and let live, let’s all get along at the register kind of place.

But in New York, people come here to make a bundle, to live like a fake king, to grab. And the best way to do that is to be taxed as little as possible.

I feel sad for the Republicans. It’s an aesthetic issue, beyond being a humanist issue. Have you ever been to the house of a Republican? Unless it’s the classic Wasp-redo, the whole endeavor is poorly put together.

If Republicans hate Democrats and want us dead, fine. But they must keep us around at least to make sure they don’t have completely ugly houses.

Republicans are scared. They have world views that are as big as their family, maybe their community, that is it. A huge world? Nah, too much. One wants them to say, “Awww, hell, let mayhem reign. We’ll be fine.”

But I like my Republican friends. For the most part, they are adventurous and a bit wealthy. They can take a Polish joke. And they are not afraid to live life at full tilt.

But you can’t believe, you just can’t believe that they don’t believe in Universal Health Care.

A Tony for Tony

I want to say YAY! for my friend Tony who just started to work on a show (La Cage aux Folles) and his show now has a load of Tonys, including Best Musical Revival. So nice.

But what was not so nice was the sound of the awards broadcast. How can you produce a television show and have the sound get that wacked?

For years in Hollywood I did the books for a load of production companies. I have run payroll through for the producing team of tonight's show for television specials, including awards shows that we taped for live broadcast. Funny, these guys were always competent, and certainly exceptionally confident. Well guys, NEXT TIME MAKE SURE IT ALL WORKS! Or I'll make sure someone docks your pay.

More time on quality, in general, I say.

But back to the positive. The show had humor. Theatre is still a dork festival of dorksters. In the best way?

And here we are. Foggy night. Summer arriving. And today, my parents are married for 53 years.

For Ruth: My Sister's First Holy Communion

Ruth was our neighbor and my sister's best friend back in the day. She makes an appearance around the 16 second through the 22 second.

These clips, okay, okay, I know, they're mostly fun for the people who are in them. But still...

Birch Hill Game Park

Clearly where I learned to love goats.

With my sister and cousins, and hooved beasts.

Public Reading--Art by the Ferry FRIDAY night

Adam and Don

Will be reading well tested original material in this year’s

ART BY THE FERRY

Curated by the beautiful and talented Marian Fontana with published authors and other people who aren’t afraid to get up to tell it like it is.

Friday, June 11 @ 8PM

At the Staten Island Ferry Terminal, Staten Island. The boat is FREE in both directions!

The event is free (Well, a little donation is appreciated) and it’s not long.

And it’s always good to have a quaff afterward. We sure will.

Building 11 at the Lighthouse Plaza, Enter at 1 Bay Street

See link of detailed map below. It’s basically right outside the Ferry Terminal to your left.

ART BY THE FERRY

Staten Island Ferry Schedule:

Ferry Schedule

(On the average, about every 18 minutes from Manhattan)

There will be food around.

Don Says:

“The other writers are funny. I might even do an original song.
Adam and I have done these relationship companion pieces before. They are sure to please. It’s a happening. In Staten Island. On a warm night. With a free boat ride. What could be better?”


The Readers:

MARIAN FONTANA - Author of “Widow’s Walk” a memoir, and many monologues performed by herself at Playwrights Horizon and other venues.
DON CUMMINGS - Author of 9 critically acclaimed plays, some movies and a book. www.doncummings.net
ADAM WARING – Writer on “Two and a Half Men” and “Still Standing,” and a rash of Disney Read Along Records, plus readings at HBO’s Sit n Spin.
LISA DIERBECK – Author of New York Times notable book: “One Pill Makes You Smaller”.
MORNA MARTELL - Author and noted actress. Recently wrote “A Peaceful Crossing for the Sundog Theater production of Scenes from the SI Ferry. Morna Murphy Martell, an actor-writer-director, has done shows in London, New York, Washington, DC, Edinburgh and Hollywood. Awards include an NEA; DCA grants, and grants from COAHSI. Her comedy, “The Three Wives of Harry Simpson,” won a national contest in Oklahoma City where it had its world premiere in October, 2008. She is a member of The Dramatists Guild and Actor’s Equity Association.
JOHN FOXELL - Author and artist, recently recognized in a bio in the NY Times.
IRA GOLDSTEIN - Local poet and short story writer. Mr. Goldstein was published by Home Planet News, Independent Literary Review, and COAHSI newsletter

Make Em Get Married!

Notice how Mike White makes the younger, cuter guy get fatter with time!

This is a fun youtuber, and it makes the point in a funny way. I mean, the point’s already been made. It illustrates it, cinematically, clearly.

What they should show, though, and no one is talking about this (and I’ve been in one of these torture chambers for almost 17 years) is that after it gets dull, it usually gets mean, and then it gets distant and then it gets tragic and then it comes together. Like most marriages.

We are still not talking about how it really can go on for a real long time and it can get just as complex as a straight marriage.

You might have to sign in to You Tube and click that you’re 18 to see this one.

Terry Cummings Christening

What I Saw in the Hamptons

A yellow finch.

Cardinals.

A wild turkey. I named her Diane. But I don’t think it stuck.

Two deer.

A handful of Humans swilling hundreds of dollars worth of wine.

Homemade pizza.

A Portuguese water dog.

A bruised left ring finger from where the Portuguese water dog bit me, but did not break the skin.

Industrial buildings outside the train tracks.

Sag Harbor. Say yes to Sag Harbor.

Peconic Bay.

Great properties with swimming pools.

First generation physicians.

A hearing aid.

Italian furniture.

Gravel driveways.

Scrub oaks with lichens.

Pine.

Stars.

Tomatoes.

Cummings Family Footage: Reunion

Big Cummings Family Reunion Coming...Time for old home movies!

Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead

Unless you have a little story.

Living in Hollywood for many years you end up doing a lot of work you had not imagined you would ever do. I got by, for a long time, being a production accountant. Yes, I’m good with numbers and I’m not even Chinese.

One of my clients, or really, she was my boss, S, well, I loved her and her partner and I pushed through the payroll paperwork and accounts payable checks for great shows like, America’s Most Fascinating Women, Where are they Now?, The Ultimate T.V. Trivia Challenge, you know, real cultural markers.

(Though much of what is not needed is made in Hollywood, this does not mean it was not fun to make.)

Now here is the story. So my boss, S, she owned the house that used to be Rue McClanahan’s house in Studio City. And the day of closing, I guess it was during Golden Girls days, Rue and her ten-plus cats would not budge. She just couldn’t do it. (I understand. It’s hard to move.)

They tried coaxing her out with flashy vests and cans of tuna (okay, not really, they got a lawyer). And finally, by almost force, they got her out of the house, paid mountains of money to clean up the cat filth and then moved in.

Was this a case of neurotic attachment? Or was it because she was an entitled star and did not want to be told when to do something, well I don’t know.

But if I was a T.V. actress with a passel of pussies and refused to budge long after closing, well, I would expect someone to blog about it and so consider it blogged.

Years later, when S’s business collapsed and all that was left of her staff was me and a few old imacs, we moved to the rec room of her house, Rue’s old house, and I sat there and did the books about once a month for a few months and then I quit and kept quitting doing accounting until I left Los Angeles, never to punch in another number for pay again.

Now, I am not trying to be all catty here, no pun intended. It’s just, I had this close up experience in Rue’s old house. I have no idea what she was like. I knew a few writers from Golden Girls, and there are some stories there---but those are not germane to sweet Rue’s death.

Apparently, her memorial is very democratic. She did not want to have a funeral. What there is is a big ol’ Facebook page. Jump on if you like.

Facebook Memorial Page

Al and Tipper and a Little Grease at the End

Come on! So Edwards didn’t make it. Gore is not making it. And the Clintons, well, they did…even after that pesky beej. What does this sort of prove?

You have to be tough as hell and committed like crazy to be in a successful marriage or to be President of the United States.

What else could it prove?

That trying to become President of the United States and losing destroys your marriage.

Or, most likely, none of the above.

I wonder what did the Gores in. Was it all his traveling, all her depression, his slightly lisping poorly pitched voice, or a combination of all these things?

Will we ever know?

I like it when people keep it “classy.”

Poor Al. I wonder if this will push him toward fatter or thinner. He never had the charisma of Clinton or the smile of Edwards, but he has something better: some sort of integrity, while bordering on overly earnest, but still, something is very right with him.

It is never fun to see a long term marriage break up. If a six monther or even a three yearer goes down in flames, well, you usually think, “They should not have gotten married so quickly,” or “They were much better off just being unmarried,” or “They should have never been together anyway.”

But with these long ones, you just feel sort of sad. And you hope that all their past public displays of affection and their heartfelt books about each other weren’t all just a bunch of bullshit.

Did they always have medium to big problems and while in the public eye used the wide platform to act as-if they were a great couple? Or, were they a solid couple and recently something went down? Or did they simply whither away from each other?

Strange. Why add to the loneliness at that point in your life? Or, were they one of those alone-together couples? I wish the sweet things well.

Now, how about that oil spill? It’s upsetting me so much, I have gone into denial, clamping down, just waiting for it to pass.

Henri Cartier-Bresson at MOMA

Go. Today.

Henri Cartier-Bresson at MOMA

He has been all over the world. Henri C-B, in addition to his clear technique and his eye for perfect but spontaneous composition, this man also had great material! The modern century. That’s the 20th Century. Amazing pictures of everyday life in every part of the world. Also, Gandhi’s funeral, portraits of Camus, Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, etc. Some of the photos are so moving, you just kind of cry. His pictures are full of narrative. And maybe a snarkier man than I might find this all a bit sentimental, but that man would be missing much.

The show is a bit overwhelming. Huge, in fact. But worth the couple of hours. Try to go when you think there won’t be a million people there.

So much is living in the photos.