Off to Baltimore. Happy Thanksgiving

 

Christmas Fun in the 49th State. Happy Thanksgiving.

Thanks Mother J.

Three Years Late and Worth it: Synecdoche New York

Finally, about three years late, I sat down and watched Charlie Kaufman’s Synecdoche, New York . (Thanks Anne E.)

It takes some doing, and then you let yourself go with it and then, well, it’s a complete romp of brutal acceptance and sadness.

You can figure out the narrative by the end. But basically…well, I don’t even want to talk about what it is because if I do it will sound so trivial.

He made this movie based on the definition, sort of, of the word synecdoche. Look it up. But really, it’s about living-connection.

Jon Brion, movie music (and other music) genius is in attendance making it even more suspended.

Outrageous cast of talented wonders. Hoffman, Watson, Keener, Davis, Williams, Wiest.

Years ago, I was at one of those summer pool parties in Brentwood or Bel Air or some sort of town that started with the letter B. Charlie Kaufman was there, friend of close friends. And he was so kind and he had just come off his success of Being John Malkovich, a big fluke, really, and he was so grateful. A spec script that saw the sun. He was physically unassuming and bashful and fantastic.

(Is it completely tacky to mention this superficial connection? Fuck it. I’m tacky.)

And then to this…

I was sort of blubberpussing on the sofa. But then, I don’t experience time linearly, so this movie was for me, exactly. Because, really, everything is happening at once and he got that and he shot that. Balls to do it. Smart, sad and right. We’re all dead. He doesn’t even say we should live well because of that. Maybe nods to it, a bit.

After you see it, you might need to read about it. Or maybe, read about it before you see it. You got the Google.

Finally: Blood in the Streets

You know, I’m seeing pictures of bloodied and battered protesters.

I was wondering when the kids were going to wake up and get out there and make a fuss. It’s happening.

Thanks, kids. No sarcasm here. I mean it. Thank you.

Blood in the streets. This is when it gets interesting. (Also a great time to buy stocks and real estate. Oh, the irony. Yet I do get sucked into self interest. Baby, I was born this way…oh wait, no---I was made this way by my society.)

Look, kids who protest and get a little battered make for great photo ops. They’re young and they will heal. It is easy to imagine that some of these kids want to get beaten. It’s the ones who can take it. The strong ones who get right in the face of the fuzz and say, “No, pig. You are not going to stop us.”

Funny, the world only understands pain. Even after Western enlightenment, reason is not held in great esteem. You concentrate wealth and then lie to everyone about some sort of “all boats” or “trickle down” theory, as if they hold any water or give any water, well, you are going to raise the ire of the many. This is just obvious. And yet—the greedy still want to concentrate the wealth.

Bad way to go.

The kids can take some physical abuse. And they are doing it. But why must it come to this? Maybe it’s because it’s just how it’s been done for a very long time…kids are the ones who also go out and do Righties’ wars. It’s tradition. Physical strength at its zenith is used.

Fight, kids…so maybe no one ever has to fight again. But maybe that’s a very optimistic thought.

Maybe the fight is what people want. Better to beat the kids into understanding what capitalism is all about (it’s good for them?) than to have peace and togetherness. Because Socialism, apparently, is evil. Ask any Dane. They’ll tell you. ;) Wink.

Magazine Trouble

As if it isn’t enough that I have to smell the Dolce and Gabbana cologne in the sample horror of a magazine, I have to look at Matthew McConaughey’s airbrushed titties, too?

Why don’t they make magazines and newspapers on your computer that you just leaf through, like, uh, a magazine or a newspaper, in page order? All this clicking forward and back is a waste of time.

Lastly, and this has little to do with magazines, when I hear someone complaining about how expensive something is, I think they are actually congratulating themselves that they can afford it.

Bonus Round: Don’t eat prunes after you eat a dill pickle. Your tongue cannot make sense of any of it. Note: No picture of food included in this description.

Busy Busy Busy

I was walking in Central Park today after a busy bunch of stuff and I thought, “This just walking around is a good way to think up some new things.” Not that that was a new thought.

New York City is a wild distraction. On any given night you can go see 5,000 shows/whatnots. Really. I almost did the research. Okay, I did not. It just feels like that might be the right number, if you include every small club and movie theater and art shebang.

In order to get your stuff done, your internal stuff, you have to ignore these things. And you have to find a way to get into nature so you can slow down and have a thought that is not on the To Do list.

So, this is part of the discipline. To ignore the millions of bright flowers yelling, “Smell me! Pick me!”

What really feels primary to me is nature. This is not corny sentiment or a romanticizing of the bark beetle. If you are made of the same thing as water and rock and tree and squirrel, and you are, then you might as well go sit with them and calm down.

Usually, when the mind clears and you think about how you’ve been thinking, you think, “Man, that was a lot of chatter.”

Middle Stage Tonight at Dixon Place

Tonight is it. Going to be a good crowd. Party after at InterstateNYC. Probably not a good idea to show up without buying tix first.

Get to the Lower East Side…have someone wheel you there in their hipster pushcart. When was the last time you took a chance?

GET TIX

MIDDLE STAGE
Marian Fontana and Don Cummings, lunatics of life and stage explore what life means from dating to doctors with music, mayhem and a bassoon.

ROBERT DICK and JOSHUE OTT
Multi-flutist Robert Dick and visual improviser Joshue Ott create an immersive, improvised experience, unabashedly journeying from maelstrom to serenity via spontaneous emotional ports of call.

WHAT THE CONSTITUTION MEANS TO ME
written and performed by: Heidi Schreck
A story of one high school girl's baffling encounter with a Very Important Document.

GIFT OF TONGUES
created & performed by: David E. Johnston
with Brian Wolfe, Elizabeth Pupo-Walker and Emiliano Valerio. on drums and percussion
Performance artist David E Johnston and his electro-percussive band "Gift of Tongues" debut music from his dark new collection called "Songs of My People".

LIBERAL WHITE FEMALE
written by Felipe Ossa
directed by Jeremy Bloom
with Celeste Arias, Sandie Luna& Ruben Ortiz
Karen is interviewed for a position that might just be a perfect fit. But her would-be employers, Maria and Simón, are ill equipped to assess her true value. And Karen herself might have a thing or two learn about the human marketplace.

Monday, November 14, 2011 — 7:30 pm @ the new Dixon Place
161A Chrystie btw. Delancey & Rivington (F/V 2nd Ave; 6 Bleecker; JMZ Bowery)

Tickets $15.00 @ the door
but just $10.00 online, in advance GET TIX
1st come, 1st served, no reservations ('less you buy yr. tix online)

For more information, call (212) 219-0736, or browse www.dixonplace.org

Monday Night Show and More

 

Come see my show Monday night. You’ll have a good time. Or you won’t. But at least you’ll have done something you usually don’t do. These sort of outings can wake you up.
MIDDLE STAGE

I believe in corporations because I like centralization. Let Williams-Sonoma make everything for my house under the guise of different companies. Trick is, just don’t let the king of Williams-Sonoma get so damn rich. How many houses full of silicon pot holders does he need?

I have an idea for a book: Lose weight like a chain smoker! (Without the smoking).
If you do what chain smokers do…which is something besides eating…in other words, keep yourself very distracted, and stay sort of obsessed and driven while denying yourself calories, you will lose weight. It works. Just make sure your meals are healthy, small and consistent.

I believe women rape, sexually, too. It’s a different kind of rape. They’ll do it for the power. Distant. Controlling. I’ve heard some talk about it--came from the horse’s mouth. Everyone gets their turn at destroying others. And then they pretend they don’t?

You’ll love this play. See it. It’s so well done.
HAND to GOD
The performance of the main guy is truly amazing.

Snow in October. Spring in November. This weather sure is entertaining! Variety is the spice, and perhaps the lunacy, of life.

Facebook, Why?

Facebook, complicated Facebook, almost powder blue Facebook, why? Why are you still here?

I thought Google+ would do you in. I was wrong.

I thought people would get so bored. I was wrong again. They just got way into their food and started posting greasy pictures of their daily slop.

Then, I thought there would be an uprising as the pages became increasingly difficult to use, especially with the privacy levels, then the subscribing levels, which are different than friend levels and the lists and what the hell else?

But it sticks and sticks.

I used to love being a blogger because almost no one had the discipline to keep at it. And you put yourself out there. And it felt kind of courageous. Blogging, of course, is the online equivalent of ancient sea sponges. And the next leg up, you know, would have been the coelenterates, but Facebook went all the way to vertebrates and maybe even beyond. Why?

Why doesn’t something simpler replace it? Would it really be so hard to bail (bale?) and start over? I mean, almost everyone on earth dropped AOL.

I’m ready. Hale-Bop, take me to another world.

She Cain Forward

Sharon Bialek, in looking to find another job or regain the one she lost, got a whole lot of Cain hand up her skirt, her head pulled down toward Cain’s crotch, and the demand, “You want a job, right?” At least that’s what she said.

It will be interesting to see if she is speaking with forked tongue or not.

I suspect she is telling the truth. But only because of math and anti-conspiracy sentiments. I do not believe that so many women would come forward, women who do not know each other, living in different places. It would take quite a cabal to get that going on.

And then the Right wingers, yet again whenever there is something inconvenient brought forth, attempt to believe it is media distortion. What on earth does the media get out of this? And if the media makes stuff up, why don’t they make up better stuff? Because they are too busy reporting what’s actually going on.

Discussion

Liberals maintaining that racism is what drives most social discourse is actually a conservative position if you define a conservative position as one where you hold onto the way things have always been done.

Why calcify?

Liberals, undig, please.

The Stroke: Worth Revisiting

A Blog Entry of Simple Truth

I hate dryer sheets.

The Suburbs: Is it Safe for Dogs, Even?

Two catastrophes happened within three days of each other.

Our cute pooch had to leave our apartment to live differently and otherwise, forever. It was a yapping-in-an-apartment issue that was causing insanity to both those in the apartment and those nearby. So, Connie, now back to Molli, has moved to New Jersey to live with my sister and her family. It is working out. Go Molli, go!

Not long after, there was the pre-Halloween snowstorm that was so freakish and devastating, that my sister’s little burgh of Cresskill, New Jersey is still without power, five days later. All sorts of things crushed. Messy messy world.

Will the dog survive under such conditions? Apparently, yes. It’s just dry kibble and water that propels her. So my sister’s family must trudge through dark nights and refrigerator-free days, training a dog to do its business outside, under the stress of television-free evenings.

It makes you wonder how long people will continue to live out in the woods with or without their dogs. It’s all tornadoes and crazy snow storms and freakish winds in the northeast. When I was a kid, we had about four blizzards the whole time, a couple of floody summers. Things truly have violently changed. What must my Republican appurtenances in the suburbs and country think about all this?

Or, do they not have time to think about all this since they must pass their days busily with their chain saws, making logs out of the trunks that have crushed their roofs, blown out the windows of their S.U.V.s?

As harsh as this sounds, you do wonder how many Escalades have to be pounded before someone admits to Global Warming/Severe Climate Change.

Homeostasis can be gentle. Or, it can be meted out. Right now, it is meted. It’s all physics and math, this mess. Why is this so hard to understand?

I wish the population of the great northern woods much strength in the oncoming years. But hell, what am I smugging about? The next super virus that hits the big cities, opportunistically rampant due to the population bulge, I will be running across that G.W. Bridge to New Jersey to go sit in the dark with my sister’s family and my former pooch, Molli, who, hopefully, will be house trained by then.

RSA Animate: The Divided Brain

MIddle Stage @ Dixon Place, November 14 @ 7:30 PM

Come see us, Don and Marian, in MIDDLE STAGE, the beginnings of a wacked comedy with guitar and bassoon at DIXON PLACE, Monday evening, November 14 at 7:30 PM.

Other acts for the evening include something by Robert Dick, Heidi Schreck in “What the Constitution Means to Me,” The Band GIFT OF TONGUES and Felipe Ossa’s “Liberal White Female.”

So, you know, variety.

Buy tickets here, for just ten measly bux. Or pay a little more at the door. The night is short, fun and Dixon Place is all state-of-the-art with the real downtown downtowness you’ve been craving since August:

Little Theatre Tickets

See you there.

MIDDLE STAGE

 

Completely Confusing

The Earth + 7 Billion People = Freak Show


 

Dog as Parakeet

The truth is, we had the cutest white-apricot tinged loudest, yippiest rescue malti-poo pooch this side of Paris. We could not believe we were stuck with her. We figured, well—she must go back---to be made into the dog of someone else, or sausage.

But Adam, My-husband-in-New-York, had a long talk with the rescue outfit that gave us this rejected designer pooch. So this is the deal (and we read so many books!)---every dog has his special kind of day and ours is dealing with profound separation anxiety. No surprise we ended up with THAT one.

So this is what the rescue guy said to do…in the pen where she is living with her great bedding and toys and water and all that---you have to cover it with a blanket. It has to be like the pen has nothing to do with the room that it’s in so the dog will feel like it has that tiny little world that is hers…that is safe…that has nothing to do with people or anything else. Total safety. It’s like Temple Grandin’s Cow Press!

Then, what you do is, you put the dog in, all covered like that, for five minutes. As soon as she stops the whining and barking and settles in, you time five minutes. You then give her a snack reward. Take her out for five minutes. Then do the same for ten and fifteen. Work your way up to twelve damn hours! Over a week or so.

This is fine.

And miracle of miracles…the yapping nightmare piped down. She has been sound asleep in there for a few hours, not a peep.

If only I had access to this information a little sooner—

I was making dinner tonight and she sat right on my foot. She was such a baby and so incredibly in need. I cried. But you knew that.

 

There's Something About Married

You know, you wake up one morning and you’re married for almost a week and something is different.

No, it’s not just the dog that won’t stop barking, ever. Though, that is a surprising twist on what we thought our prize hound was going to be.

No, it’s this feeling of permanence. And I know that sounds silly---because I hear that people get divorced all the time. But there is a collective conscience around marriage that says…’til corpse do we roll.

And that is the tradition. That is the traditional marriage feeling. And you feel it. And it’s cool.

Now, why would anyone want to deprive a gay guy or a girl-on-girl girl of this feeling?

Not to be all self righteous here…

The day to day, ‘til it’s over. Enjoyable.

Now, today, I have a cold. Tell everyone to stay away. Except for my husband.

Another Wedding, Another Dog

We revisited our relationship on our eighteenth anniversary. ;) And now, not only are we Multnomah-County-of-Oregon-Marriage-Rescinded and Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partners, but as of Thursday, October, 20, 2011, we are Legally-Married-in-New-York. In attendance were Kathy Vance and John Bianchi, the couple who introduced us, and Don’s sister, Sally and her husband Tom Gundling.

When it gets recognized by the Feds, we can all have a big celebration. So help us, please, by doing everything you can to MAKE us LEGAL from the Atlantic to the Pacific, from the Gulf of Mexico to the North Pole. Write, call, talk to your cousin in Utah.



We rescued a pooch. We went to Connecticut by commuter train to meet the Adopt-a-lab truck. They are rescuing small dogs now, too. She comes from Missouri originally, rescued to Indiana. She made the road trip to just within a few feet of the Darien train stop.

She’s great…if you like really cute little pooches that are riddled with separation anxiety. We’re working on it. She is very affectionate. We are all figuring each other out. Buy stock in paper towels!

Her name is Connie.

Save the Date

November 14, Monday.

New show.

All Original material. With music and slides.

Dixon Place

The New York Times: Diversity and Inclusion

Invited by a friend of mine at The New York Times to attend the 15th floor conference center to watch, hear and meet the panel for

Same-Sex Marriage: The Road to Passage in New York State.

With City Council Speaker, Christine Quinn, NY State Senator, James S. Alesi (the Republican from Rochester who swung into support), and Andrew Cuomo, our governor.

This is what I gleaned:

1) James S. Alesi voted for what his constituents wanted. It was also an act of bravery, since bullies have been at him before, during and after.

2) Christine Quinn has a warm Long Island accent and is smart.

3) Governor Cuomo repeated again and again that lack of marriage equality was discrimination. Pure and simple. He never left that idea. He said politicians are scared and that politicians follow people, not the other way around, as we would like to believe. So you have to teach the people to think the right way and then they do and then you can vote for the new thinking. He viewed it as an education of others, that once all the hot emotions fell, the conservatives had nothing to back up their position---except discrimination. This was pure and simple for him. An issue of discrimination. And in a state of equality, in a country of equality, it had to go.
People cried.

4) The guy sitting next to me was something of importance at the bureau there. He smelled so much of garlic, my head started to pound.

5) The New York Times building is gorgeous. Go in it.

I was near the governor as he was leaving and shook his hand. I think he will run for president in 2016, though, he did not tell me such a thing. I thanked him for what he did. He has a good sense of humor. I would vote for him.

I think people should not eat garlic in the middle of the day---unless they suspect mutant daylight resistant vampires.


 

Dreaming of Notre Dame

Some scientifically far fetched stuff, religiousy, paranoia-y, that is true-ish has come to light and demands more inspection.

Comets from the past that hit the earth have the same percentage makeup of elements that make up our proteins. So, Ron Hubbard, with his wacked idea of original sin coming from outer space and zipping into volcanoes…is not so far off. He might have “felt this” to be true. So Scientology, though wacky, might actually be “a hunch” that has some truth to it. Of course, they went too far with the story.

Sitting on a bus in the 1980s when AIDS was in full blown hysteria, I overheard a pair of African Americans who insisted it was a government plot to kill Blacks. Of course, this is not exactly true. But it was vaccination techniques in colonized Africa, according to an article in The Times today written by Donald G. McNeil, Jr., that caused a virus multiplier scenario. So perhaps the paranoia I witnessed in that bus bound for Jersey had some basis in truth.

We all feel things. Then we make stuff up. Maybe we shouldn’t make stuff up, even avoid narrative in general, and just try to talk about what our hunches are, specifically. We should all be more hunched and less rigid.

The North Fork

What a great peninsula. Sticking into the ocean. Little towns. Sort of a nowhere but somewhere place.

It's very interesting. Nova Scotia feel meets a little bit of Northern California as this weekend was cool and dry and a section of the spit has cedars growing. Wine grapes all around, lavender, too. Lovely micro-climate.

Across the water, a short distance, is Gardiners Island. A land grant over 400 years old, given to the Gardiner family by the English Crown--well, they still have it.

It's all a pyramid scheme. It was good to be British back in the day.

 

Occupy Wall Street or The Remake of Footloose

I am not compelled to witness either one.

However, I am more inclined to visit those guys down in Zuccotti Park who are making a statement or a ruckus or whatever it is they are doing.

But I am freaked out by the math. I think more people are against them than are for them.

But things could turn. If the protesters are greatly abused, people will stand up for them. And the consciousness could change. Though the martyr thing is a drag, it is effective. What else do powerless people have?

Vietnam ended.

Wall Street’s and Banker’s days could end, too.

Power to the people. Right now.

Republicans, Truly

I want to write about the Republican presidential candidates, but there is so much lunacy going on, it is hard to know where to begin.

So I will scrap it and appeal to the few Republicans who read my blog and have not yet dumped me as a friend.

If you are a Republican and you have some sense and you understand that business is important but that people are, too, would you please try to win the nomination?
And if you do, will you entice the health insurance industry to work much more closely with the government, like they do in France, the best run medical system in the world? Please? Believe in Empiricism?

Just wanting to be rich, sharing nothing with anyone else, and making sure every unborn baby is born and gay people retain their shame is not enough reason to have a political party. There must be more to it. If you have more, please run for president. Who knows, you might end up my crossover candidate!

If Only

Today, I had a root canal.

Beyond the horror is the stench. Beyond the stench is the knowledge that you are going to pretty much smell like that not long after you die.

I would like to download myself into a hard drive. Or up into the cloud.

I certainly find this mortal casing to be a chore.

This is not a call for help but an invitation to care less.

Things die every day.

So why so greedy and fearful, everyone?

Bread, butter, tomatoes, ham. Enough.

A Second Blog, Since they are So Cutting Edge

Friends,

There is a second blog. Check it out.

I don’t know what it means yet.

Time will reveal its purpose.

What do YOU know?

Article Schmarticle

B.I.U.

Beauty is underrated.

Facebook is All Things to All Humans

And now with the subscribe button (imitating Twitter) and the lists (imitating Google+), you have to wonder what Facebook will imitate next.

Maybe little excel sheets or travel pods?

The subwebs of the web are getting filled with plaque and the web, itself, needs some cleaning.

I don’t have time to do it.

Facebook, when are you launching your own browser?

And then, when will Apps and Browsers merge?

I just want to talk to someone.

On the other end of it:

Steve Jobs, how dare you die before giving me hardware portability the size of a key that projects holograms? Selfish.

Tonight is It. Come On Over. It's Only Rain.

 

The Play:

LIVE WORK SPACE

Tuesday and Wednesday, are here.

 

LIVE WORK SPACE Tuesday and Wednesday Nights @ 8

The Production Company proudly announces
the third play in our "First Look Play Reading Series"

Don Cummings' exciting new play
LIVE WORK SPACE

Two Nights Only! Tuesday and Wednesday, October 4 & 5 at 8 PM

Directed by Ben Campbell

featuring company members and guest artists
DAN ALEMSHAH KIMBERLY BAILEY JOHNNY CLARK
MADELYNN FATTIBENE DOUG KREEGER DAVID YOUSE

NO RESERVATIONS NECESSARY - FREE ADMISSION
The Production Company @ The Lex Theatre
6760 Lexington Ave., Hollywood 90038
...come on down and see what The Production Company is up to!

 

Penguin Rep: Great Place on Earth

Friends, my friends are having a big auction for their great theater in Stony Point, New York. Jump on! Bid early and often. There’s even a trip to France. You name it. What are you waiting for? You know you’ve deprived yourself long enough. Live.

Penguins are forever.

This is a great place.

PENGUIN REP AUCTION

Stasis in Numbers

Though I might have my arithmetic construct wrong when it comes to laying down my fraction of: dwindling old timey resources/population growth

I do believe this is what has put us in stasis.

The tiny members of the population that has easy access to hording will continue to horde. They were fear driven to begin with. They will pretend they must continue to have a whole lot of stuff in order for your dreams to come true. Do not believe them. They are cunning and nothing can plug up the holes in their hearts.

The rest of humanity, well----it just grows and grows. As it grows, there is not a clear way to support it.

I believe this is what can explain our current economic crisis. Not just government this or that, or monetary policies or any other human made what-not. I believe it is biology. I believe our fiscal numbers are reflecting our current biological state.

This may be because I am a bit of a biologist, the carpenter seeing the entire world as a bunch of nails.

So throw a mollusk at me and say, “Oh, please.” But then, think about it. Math works.


 

Question

Will summer ever end?

LIVE WORK SPACE October 4&5 in Hollywood

A Reading of

LIVE WORK SPACE

By Don Cummings

Tuesday October 4 and Wednesday October 5

8PM

THE PRODUCTION COMPANY
@ The Lex Theater
6760 Lexington Avenue 90038

with

Dan Alemshah Kimberly Bailey Johnny Clark
Madelynn Fattibene Doug Kreeger David Youse

Directed by Ben Campbell

This is to help form the next season of THE PRODUCTION COMPANY.

Your presence is invaluable.

I will be there both nights. Come on over. Love to see you.

Don


View Larger Map

End of Summer, Into Fall, The Berkshires

Caregiver Farm, Cricket Creek Farm, Alpaca Farm, The House, The Woods at the end of Marion Avenue in North Adams/Williamstown. All of it.

Harvest. Eat. Grow again. As a species, we really figured it out?

 

The Album:

End of Summer, Into Fall, The Berkshires

Off to the Berkshires

Enjoy your weekend. Some say rain. I say cozy.

 

Tigers

Have you all seen this? Well, watch it. It’s the poster-vid for the famous day.
Thanks to my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partner, Adam, who alerts me to all popular trends, hits and viral loads:



When I came out, back in the 80’s, my father looked at me, in that stylish basement in Ramsey, New Jersey, with the curved floor Zenith, and said, “I don’t care if you make love to tigers. You’re my son. I love you.”

I had it easy and my father always used every chance he could to be a little funny.

My mother was a little more dramatic about it. “You’ll never be happy,” she said. But she was basing this on someone who she was very close to, perhaps even a few men that she knew, at a time when gay men weren’t, in general, the blithest bunch. She got over it all very quickly.

In fact, I told her first. She said I should tell my father later that night. It all happened so fast, in one day. I thought it was going to be all sobbing and wailing and blaming and heaving of Teutonic bosoms. It was not at all like that.

My parents were people in the world and they knew there were lots of gay people in it. My Mom also said, “I’ve known since you were about eight years old.”

Was it the puppets? Me being in charge of all things Christmas? Or my articulate sensitive nature?

Does it matter?

Gay military friends, protect and service each other.

Repeal of Don't Ask Don't Tell Puff Piece

It’s over.

Thin edge of the wedge.

Look out, Kansas. We’re coming for your children! In fagtigues.




HOMOS AT THE LUNCH COUNTER! Weeeeeeee!

Thank You Mr. Buffet

What more could I add?

Miserable, Untimely Death

I’m not one of those people who thinks death is strange. When I was a wee kid, I almost died from a bee sting. This was unpleasant. I went into a coma for a day. They say.
In 1998, I had this strange feeling I was dying. It was my appendix. After the operation, I had a gratitude experience that informed my adulthood from then on. Second lease. All that.
I like to live. I do. But I figure I will die. I hope I am very old when it happens. But really, only, if I am not alone. Or at least not too alone. Or at least with a little dog or something or a nurse that doesn’t hate me.

Death, in threes. Mid-September.

I sat at a cafeteria table at Tufts once singing the Great Green Globs of Grimy Gopher Guts song…not knowing that the woman at the end of the table was Kara Kennedy. My good friend, Ma we called her because she was older than us and she knew Kara, was kicking me under the table. And then the kicks got harder and harder. I was very annoyed. Kara got up and left the table. Ma said, “That was Kara Kennedy. The one you said you were going to get to marry you.” What is hilarious is that Ma (and I for a childish second) thought this was even a possibility. I did not know Kara Kennedy, but she certainly thought I was a loud, annoying infant. Which I was. And she did not marry me. Now she is no longer alive. So many people are no longer alive. It was strange to read that she died.

Then, I read on Facebook today, that a friend of mine from high school died. This is terrible. I had a very special class trip to Paris in the tenth grade which sort of informed me that I wanted to spend a lot of time in France. At the time I was sixteen. I think I slept four hours a night. I was staying on the top floor of the Pont Royal Hotel in the Sixth Arr. And so was Stacy, next door, with another friend, KK. All the other kids were on lower floors---somehow, we had the luck of getting the garret rooms. It was a party—but mostly just horsing around, like you do, when you’re young and innocent and insist on having a good time. I was so sad to hear that she died (See that she died) on Facebook. I have no idea how. Sounds like it was sudden. She really was one of those warm, incredible members of our species. Sadness. Stories ending. Paris will carry on. This Stacy, really, was unique. Often, people die and you think, “Yeah, okay—death.” But this one was a real drag.

And we saw the movie Contagion. We even Imaxed it because seats were available. Kind of documentary-like. Full on cast of amazing actors. It was enjoyable. No real conflict in the story. It was laid out more like a documentary. Well done, Mr. Soderbergh and everyone in it. Worse, could be ahead.

Mothers

Mothers, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up Unvaccinated.

--This message is brought to you by the HPV generation, an infected bunch by what I like to call: The Human Paloma Picasso virus.

 

A Simple Horror

Fifty-million, that’s 50,000,000, that’s Five times Ten Million People in this country do not have Health Insurance.

Maybe when it gets up to 100,000,000, there might be enough heft to vote for a public health plan?

What has to happen in this country to get people to vote for leaders who will help them?

We Interrupt This Blog

To bring you the latest news:

People are still beating the crap out of gay kids.

Back when I was a kid, and I was gay, I was not ever beaten up. Not exactly. But I was abused, verbally, every few days. And because I was no shrinking violet, I responded by saying things like, “Fuck you.” Or, “Why are you talking to me like that?” Or even, “Sure, let me see your dick.”

But I had a special privilege because I had a little bit of popularity, a high G.P.A., a sense of humor and adventure and I was raised by very liberal, brave people. Additionally, I had many allies. I was protected. Even D.S. a great athlete, during senior year in gym, would pick me first on his team---knowing that we’d have a great time even though I was the worst player of anything on earth. He had a sense of humor about team picking. I was the recipient of his good jokes.

But there was taunting. And the taunting ultimately caused great depression. As it does. And then one has to fight, what feels like forevs, to pull out. And you do. And it’s fine. But I think the statistic is something like, you lose ten years of your life doing that. Of course, they are talking about the loss of years that you gain wealth and status by assimilating into the normative masses. But in our culture, those are real losses. And you do lean toward the normal over time. It just sort of happens to everyone.

I am all for assimilation. Especially since most people’s personalities are so grating. What the hell! Why not a little conforming? Why not some formality? And while you’re at it, why not put down that beer can, tuck in your shirt, shut your mouth and listen for a change?

I feel bad for natty gay kids. But they might conform a bit more so they are not so attacked. Maybe UNtuck their shirts? That being said, if some boy comes to school all glittery, nail polish gleaming, prancing around all goofy-like, well, shit---just give him a wide berth. He needs the room to do his jetés. I know I do.

Even as an adult, there is a bit of homophobia I still face. Very rarely, but I do. Some people just believe it is wrong or it’s a mistake. This dismissal is also a form of abuse. There is absolutely nothing I can do about that. Except dance.



 

Less Government, More Corporations

The moronic notion that with less government one then enjoys more freedom is enough to make me want to spit out my corn-syrup-based-Snapple.

Does any one person believe they can build a large building or a highway or a postal service or a healthcare system? No matter what---it takes something very organized to do the large projects.

And look, corporations do some things very well. War machines. Monoculture corn. Cheap office supplies. Shampoo.

The government has classically done a bunch of things very well. The highway system. The post office. War machines. Monoculture corn.

Oh wait! There’s overlap. Remember Wenn diagrams?

Friends on the Right, you will never have ultimate power. Large groups of some sort will always have to do the really big things.

And don’t corporations already have enough? Just look at this hideous table situation outside this corporate restaurant. Must everything look like this? For you to feel safe?

 

Those Brilliant Terrorists

If their intention was to bring down Capitalism, they did not succeed.

But they sure made a huge dent.

Poking us in the eye with those big planes into our big buildings was enough to make a lot of fearful idiots get into a useless war, the longest one we’ve ever had after the one we’re still in, and spend spend spend to bankruptcy.

It was brilliant on the part of those hateful animals. They spent almost nothing. We spent the richest-country-in-the-world’s surplus.

Say what you want about those angry cave dwellers, they outwitted us. And now we are broke.

The mouse killed the lion. Maybe not killed. But hobbled for sure.

For the personal tragedy they wrought upon so many people in the Northeast on that fateful day, they must be considered nothing more than monster pond scum. Certainly.

But pond scum has its own intelligence. Otherwise, we would not even know what pond scum is because it would not have survived.

Bleach is a fine pond scum killer. Let’s poor bleach on all of them.
But let’s not throw another dollar in their direction. Momma needs shoes. Bridgework. And high speed trains.

Sugar Mountain Follies

Follies. We saw it. Tonight.

Bernadette Peters, Jan Maxwell, Elaine Paige, etc.

It’s always great to see a play about a bunch of washed up old broads. Singing.

I saw the last incarnation of Follies ten years ago with Blythe D. and Judith I.

This one was better.

Look—the talent was fantastic. Soup to nuts. Enjoyable. Choreography, singing, directing, all of it.

Just one little thing---it didn’t really reach me beyond a very well crafted machine. But as a machine, it worked very well.

Clever show, this is, with the younger versions of characters mirroring the older versions…or actually reverse imaging. And the way it swings into a follies show of the inner lives of the four main characters (when it comes to love). Of course, the double entendre of the word Follies is not to be overlooked.

Exceptionally performed by all.

Bernadette is too old for the role.

The year is 1971 and the hep talk of the time is dated.

The metaphors in the dialog, by James Goldman, sound like merchant class drivel. Diamonds and limos and such.

But the numbers---that’s the deal. It’s always about the music in musicals and the music in this one is fantastic. We all know it. So you do what you must, you sit how you sit, in order to get to the songs.

There could also be another reason why this did not reach me: Nostalgic Sentiment. I am terrified of it. I know my half Irish soul could be sucked into such a thing and never return. I must be cautious. In college, I remember getting very drunk or stoned or both, alone in my single dorm room and I was listening to Neil Young’s Sugar Mountain, “You can’t be twenty on Sugar Mountain,” and looking into a mirror and watching myself cry like a raving lunatic because I was all grown up and my childhood was over and I would never have the sweetness of youth nor the hope of forever again.

It was quite a scene. (I had just turned twenty). I was inconsolable.

But during that silly excrescence of tears and grabbing-backward, I realized, “Don, this is such bullshit. No more of this.”

Sometimes, it still gets me, time and what could have been. But I believe it is a trap.

It must be handled, the past, like a joke, not to be taken seriously or it all gets maudlin. Because however much that could have been never was, there are infinite universes of even more things that never came your way, besides.

It's Raining In New York

As opposed to the LA scorch.

It's always good to be outside.

 

Heading Back to the Wicked East

 

From the Roof of My House in Los Angeles

This can only mean one thing: Sometimes there is something very nice looking right nearby.

 

Sitting in My House

Strange, to sit in your house, with some of your own furniture even, after not living in it for two years.

It is incredibly comforting and feels like the past, the present and the future all at once.

I like what it is doing to my sense of time.

I wonder what it will do, ultimately, to my sense of enjoyment.

This stained Ikea pine table, with the one leaf that’s the wrong color, it’s looking pretty shabby.

It is Simply Time to Ask

How many emails are usually sitting around in your inbox?

Me: 50

The long term ones for future use are filed into labels.

Question is, what is worth organizing?
Another question is, is search enough?

Enjoy Yourself. Your Life as You Once Knew It, is over.

GIF.TV

Kids Gets Stuck Tubing in a River in Rockland County After Big Storm

What else is new?

We used to dive off the top of an old iron bridge that connected our neighborhood to the Mahwah Ford Plant right into the Ramapo River after a huge flood. We did know where the big rock was and the big log.

Then, we wouldn't even use a tube---we'd body surf right down the swollen river to Devil's Ditch and pull ourselves out on the Western Edge.

When it was less roiled, we'd use tubes. Inner tubes we stole from the back of the Shortline Bus Terminal. Watch out for snapping turtles.

Ah, summer floods.

This kid---he should have waited two days.

 

Cozy Irene

Have a Lovely Weekend.

 

Earthquakes and Elevators

From my time calculation, I think I was in the elevator of my building when the earthquake hit today. I didn’t feel a thing.

Earthquakes are funny beasts. You only feel them in certain places. Location, type of structure, your own movement, all of it matters in the perception department.

I don’t mind earthquakes. Was in the huge Northridge Quake of ’94. That was a horror movie.

But I am glad I did not feel today’s East Coast Quake. One of the things I like about the East is the idea that the ground is super solid. It’s nice to not have been disabused of this false notion.

Quakes. The earth does what it does.

House for Rent

Live on Mansfield—The Center of Los Angeles

A Consortium of Corporations Called U.S.A.

Everywhere I turn, something is being sold that is either purely organic or sustainable or even better, magic.

It’s like you practically read signs along the turnpike, “OUR SLUDGE that we pour into your drinking water is completely organic. After we use this solvent to remove the lead paint from the surface of tons of Polypropylene Benzene washed engine parts, we wave a wand and it turns into omega-3 enhanced edible sludge. You could feed it to your autistic baby and it will be healed and grow up to major in macro economics at Harvard.”

Could all this bullshit be true?

People will sell you anything in this country.

Furthermore, my Android phone, what on earth are you made of? Are you the future replacement of all flesh?

I touch heat-carbon receipts and I can feel my liver curl.

Things that Start with B

I am a Boy.

We watched Blue Valentine tonight. It was fantastic. You must.
(Why are so few movies this simple and this great?)
Click it, rent it, Buy it.
Blue Valentine

We are going to Baltimore today.

I have two cartons of Blueberries in the fridge. Why did I overBuy?

I had lunch with my ex-girlfriend of the 80’s, Barbara, at Le Pain Q. Comforting.

My ego thinks it can Beat your ego. It is so often wrong and scampers back home to steam its nostrils and to read magazines.

I just figured out how to turn my phone into a WiFi device. It was Big fun. I am paying for it. I like it legal and Businesslike.

I want to thank Boris Karloff for his early unionizing efforts.

Why Republicans only get further to the Right and do not moderate? Beats me.

As you get older, a Boy’s Balls go on a desperate downward voyage toward the iron core of earth.

When I was young, I had a Bunny named Edgar. He died on the Fourth of July, of thirst.

I would hate to be hit in the head by a Baseball Bat.

Bigger is only Better, occasionally. Tumors, Termites, Losses? I say Bring it down.

The Book of Mormon

It's great fun for the whole family! Bring everyone.

Bottom line--If you like SOUTH PARK and every irreverant thing that it means, you will like this play. Plus, because it is not on television, there are no censors so they get to curse, full on, about everything.

It had a good message about faith, too, which, during these tough times, is not a bad thing. I felt the clunky turn of story during the entire thing. But I don't like story. Especially ones that have to adhere to Broadway tropes. But business is business and I'm getting older, and I don't want to miss out on any fun along the way. Plus, I read and see so many things, what the hell do I expect these days? Surprises? (I would have liked a couple, actually---but the surprises were all in the humor. Fine. Fine. FINE!)

In the end, there is nothing new under the sun, so you might as well go to things that light up the way you like them.
This one is smart and funny as hell.

And like most things on stage in New York, the level of talent was Jesus-like.

To me, the music is forgettable. But I do like the anthem, I BELIEVE.

If you can get tickets, go. I got them a few months ago at face value. Not great seats, but at least we were in the theater. Sit up in the Mezz.

Or go to your back yard and dig up some tablets and start your own damn religion. Maybe someday, they'll make an award winning money-printing musical about it.

 

Heard, Again and Again

People of little consequence in New York make fun of LA. They say things like, “Everyone there is so vapid.” Or, “Everyone looks like they’ve had plastic surgery.”
All that silly stuff from a 1970’s Woody Allen movie.

But what do I hear on the streets of New York? And what do I see?

Young people looking very old, sporting their greed hard and furious:

“I told him to sell all the shares!”
“I helped her with her IRA.”
“Like he didn’t know how much it was? I told him.”
“I don’t care which way it goes. We make it on either end.”
“Sell it, Harvey. Sell it!”
“How much is it per square foot?”
“She’ll never make it if she doesn’t tell those fucks off. She just has to take it.”

Why don’t they just rename the island of Manhattan, “MONEYTOWN?”

 

ONE NATION DIVIDED TOGETHER

All this fighting over the future of the country seems absurd to me. People don’t want to do what they don’t want to do and the middle way is dissatisfying to all, as well as, there does not seem to even BE a middle way.

So why not try this?

Everyone who believes in full-on individual rights, no taxation, strong Christian values and NASCAR, you get to be American-R’s.

And everyone who believes in the collective, strong taxation, a secular society and organic vegetables, you get to be American-D’s.

This is where it does not get tricky.

The R’s get to do EVERYTHING that they want to do how they want to do it.

The D’s get to do EVERYTHING that they want to do how they want to do it.

All you ever need do is state which one you are a member of and your taxationyou’re your healthcare and your food and your culture will be exactly that. An R life or a D life. Let us say, the Red team and the Blue team.

But there will be no color war. We can live with each other, intermingled, anywhere we want to go.

How will it play out?

There will be two forms of laws. Starting with the Constitution and current federal and state laws as they are---we will begin the split. The D legislatures and the R legislatures will pick it up from there. Each group will follow their own laws.

If an R wants to use a D road, they have to pay per mile. If the D wants to use a D road, their tax dollars will take care of it. If an R wants to use an R road, it pays per mile. If a D wants to use an R road, the R’s will keep track and charge the D government. The D government will foot the bill.

A D can pretty much use anything an R has to offer---and vice versa. But how one pays will depend upon new laws. Because this is really all about money, anyway, isn’t it? And allotment of resources?

D’s can charge D people much less for their organic yogurt. R’s will be charged at a higher rate.

D’s will enjoy national D healthcare. R’s can make their choice of which R doctor to use once they get hit by a car.

We did the whole Jim Crow thing, we can certainly do this. Separate, but let’s face it, not equal.

I imagine over time, certain states will just end up D states and others will end up R states. But maybe not.

As far as the military goes, it can be a joint affair, but it will be funded in proportion to the amount of D’s and R’s in the population and the desire of weapons. So, let’s say it is 50-50 out there in D and R American, well, if they agree on what is needed, there will be a 50-50 split in expenses. However, if the R’s want 60% more weaponry than the D’s, they will pay 60% more. Everyone wins. No one has to do what they do not want to do.

A D can work for an R and vice versa, and insist on their rates based on their own government rules. However, a D or an R can refuse to employ. It’s all negotiable.

If the R’s are way into war, let them do it. If the D’s want healthcare for all, let them do it. No one has to carry anyone.

The R’s do NOT want to work with the D’s. So let each run their own governments.

If this is the land of liberty, then let everyone live how they want to live. Let’s stop trying to get along, since we do not.

One country, two systems, interacting. The only thing that need change hands is money. No more fighting. Individuals can negotiate. If things go crappy for an R person, they can seek a church or community organization to help them out. If things go crappy for a D person, they can fill out a form and ask the government to give them money to retool.

Two Prime Ministers. One President.

Every six years, you can change from one group to the other.

Who’s with me?

Weekend Update

ONE.

Okay, this rain. I’m not going to make ark references or anything that silly.

I remember as a kid in this area we used to have one of these 3 days of straight rain things once every summer. The rivers flooded. It was good for diving off bridges and floating on inner-tubes in the polluted but conveniently located Ramapo River.

I like record breaking rain. Now, question is---why don’t we keep our rivers clean and then when all this rain happens, we can gather up all this extra water and pipe it down south where they need it? And vice versa?

Or those crazy spring rains in the Midwest. Why is that water not collected and saved for a non-rainy day?

TWO
I have what can only be described as a life destroying tooth ache. I think a little root canal is in my near future. Though, pain is interesting. It is awful, but its relief (currently in the form of large quantities of ibuprofen) is something that brings forth gratitude.

THREE
These Republicans. Will they endlessly say the same shit until the end of time? Only more so and louder and with more God in it? Did any of them learn anything from Bush’s profligate, destructive ways? WHY ARE THEY COMPLETELY NON-CREATIVE?

FOUR
Something about the complete decimation of an economy mixed with nothing that great on the horizon is enough to make one take to the gas pipe. But instead, we hole up with friends and family and find what is good and true. Not too much distraction in a society of poverty. Just, kicking those tubers out the ground with raw bloody feet so there is something to eat. Filtering water so it is drinkable. Doing a little bookkeeping to make sure there is enough money for fruit and the occasional visit to other friends. I say, let it get worse. Let it get so bad that people will finally understand that the collective (in education, physical infrastructure and health care, please) is the way to sanity. Friends, these corporations use our country as resource rape and a dumping ground. Rightie friends, why do you believe in them more than in government? I do not understand. (Of course, in China, the government and the business is all the same. They rape and dump, too. Perhaps all power rapes and dumps? Why?)

FIVE
I bought a plant for my fish. Oxygen is the way to go.

Cheap Life

I bought a goldfish for 39 cents. Her name is Laura. She is feisty. She has not yet learned that I am the one who feeds her. I get near the bowl and she turns violent.

Some fish die quickly. I can tell she is one of those year-long ones.

I would hate to live in a bowl.

Less Tea, More Time

I have changed my vampire ways and I am writing during the day instead of at night. It really is the better way to go. I used to feel rushed all day long to get other things done so I could finally get to the writing, about midnight, with a big cup of Calli Tea next to me. This is not a caffeinated beverage, but it does have some sort of herbal thing going on that speeds you up.

It is interesting to change your time zone. I like it. I see why people are tired at the end of the day. If you do the bulk of your work when it’s light out, by the time it is dark you really want to go to bed.

I never knew that you could get that tired unless you stayed up until 5 AM.

I hope this sticks and works. If not, well, I could try the super early morning thing that some people do…Joking.

Jungles and Tribes

While walking in the sultry park, I had a thought or two.

First of all, there is something fantastic about a completely humid day when you are surrounded by trees. It feels like the jungle.

And then, I thought about New York. I hate how tribal people are here. And though tribalism may be rampant all over the planet, you really see it in New York because there are so many bodies in the streets---and at events---and in certain neighborhoods, etc.

This separating off, the ego of it, the fear of it----

The good news is—the tribes do not war with each other, they seem, more, to war within their own groups. It’s like they set up a boundary and then, for fun, they beat the shit out of each other. It’s safe game playing?

I don’t know. I hate it.

Questions for the Barrel Wearing Public

At home, we hit a big downgrade in 2009. We survived. It was ugly. For many years, we were kind of smug. It was interesting to go from smug to okay to scared to miserable to okay. I believe it would be enjoyable to watch very wealthy people go through this same process, a sort of trickle-up process. To feel it. To see what stirs in them. So they can make some changes. Do you agree?

I do not wish people unhappiness. I understand that life dollops on plenty without my chanting aid. But I do see the class system as troublesome, especially one as severe as the one here. If you are not too intelligent, a bit depressed or in any way personally disadvantaged, you will never become wealthy. This is no big deal. It shouldn’t be. But it still is. Why?

If you have lost a ton of money in the stock market recently, does it really matter? Don’t you understand that it will return? And if it does not, doesn’t it feel sort of good to anticipate your ability to endure a major correction? Wouldn’t it build your confidence?

Is it possible that S&P’s downgrade is more of a political move than anything else, that its intent is to destabilize in order to gain an advantage?

As the very mathy, wealthy people play games with money, and I would include myself in this group if I were truly wealthy, isn’t it sort of sad that their only concern is for themselves and not for the state of the nation within which they live?

Why do people think they are not being controlled by an entity? Why do they hate the government? In absence of strong government you get strong individuals who destroy the economy. Why is this scenario preferable to some people? Why do they search out this anguish? Why are they deluded that they are going to be rich one day? Why do they believe that less government means they are “free”?

Does the two party system seem like a bad sporting event to you? Our yes-no brains seem to like simple team sports---one bunch squarely pitted against another. If you had the awareness that our society is set up like a game---but that the rewards of game playing are short lived and not necessarily good for the larger picture of survival—would you give up the addiction-dopamine rush for something calmer and quieter that supported you better?

Why do people say things like, “Look at the post office!” when they want to denigrate the government. The post office works. Just fine. Always has. Any real problems with the post office?

If you hate anything collective, have you ever asked yourself why? What bothers you about sharing? Why does it feel unfair to you? Do you think it is unfair that someone shares a road with you even though they pay less taxes than you? Why are you not incensed about this? Yet you hate to think that any of your money is going to the health of someone paying less tax than you pay. Do you think people who make less money than you should die sooner?

Most people who own a computer and can read are very lucky. Is that enough?

Monkey Movies for the Young and Unemployed

There we were on West 34th Street, and what we needed was a miracle.

Something about these franchise movies that are very difficult to sit through. They are made for kids to like and for adults who are kind of like kids. John Lithgow, the dad, has dementia. James Franco is looking for a cure. Instead, he, you know, oh I can’t even type it. (James Franco better lay off the bananas if he wants to keep his jaw line and me.) The movie was not visually great. It looked like a game. The digital apes looked like digital apes.

The story, well---you know, it was a prequel. And prequels have their troubles. Slow. You know where it’s heading. So why sit through the whole thing?

I guess this---I guess you just have to like “other worlds” and you have to not care about the story---you’re just so happy to be out of your dull or unhappy life and in the lives of something else. You don’t have a job, but you can afford a movie ticket and you’ll take what they throw at you because you need escape.

Besides the horrendous use of hackneyed dialog and the misuse of the poor girlfriend actress from Slumdog Millionaire (and I won’t even look up her name---because, you see, by doing this movie she has completely disappeared)--—there was this general cut and paste from all movies ever made. I guess there are only so many ways you can make a chimp rise up.

But I liked something very much. The smart Caesar, future leader of all ape-kind, had morals and integrity. He did not like greed, aggression, stupidity and being locked in a cage. He wanted to be free, in nature. So, something about getting back to the arboreal was what this was all about. The natural state. Less glory, more balance. Nice.

But friends…I was bored. If I were James Franco, I would have taken the gig. It’s going to be a lot of movies for a lot of money. Then, he can do what he really wants---live with me in a little castle off the coast of Spain, like a couple of hairless primates doing what comes naturally.

Stocks Down, Be Happy

I remember back when the NASDAQ was out of control, racing high, standing with a friend in Times Square who was watching the electric ticker tape going by---and that friend said, truly, “It can only keep going up. This is the new paradigm. The market will only go in this direction.”

There was such a mania. It was the Clinton years. People were fat with high portfolios. Even in NASDAQ. And my friend, and other people, honestly thought growth would never end.

WHERE DO PEOPLE GET THESE THOUGHTS?

It’s like a child thinking cupcakes, mountains of them, will forever be brought to the bedroom by some tireless mother-baker-giver.

It isn’t possible.

But here is the good news (on the bad). I was talking to a doctor today---and he had the glum words on his mouth about how everyone is going to be wiped out. Now.

And I thought, again,

WHERE DO PEOPLE GET THESE THOUGHTS?

It’s like children who fear that cupcakes are over, the oven used to make them is now burning down the house and mommy and daddy are fried in the blaze.

Possible? Yes. But we already had a huge blow out less than a hundred years ago. (And it did bounce back eventually.)

TEACHING now---ECONOMICS 101: What goes up, comes down. And vice versa.

This will never change. It reacts to the tides. These tides are about 17 years long. Some say 14 years. Some say 11. Some say they don’t know. Whatever---that’s the fun of the stock market. You don’t know.

But there is no such thing as the never ending vector in one direction.

Can we all agree?

Now go eat some fat free yogurt.

Anything Goes

For my birthday we went to see ANYTHING GOES. With Sutton Foster.

Look, I’m a big Sutton fan. Not many people can do what she can do---and with such ease.

I’m all for her.

The show is so silly and dated and I wonder how these kinds of things are still in our culture. But who am I to ask?

Big dance numbers, all that. This New York is loaded with crazy ass musical theater talent. And gay men in sailor suits dancing around pretending to be hot for pussy. But hell---we go with the convention.

I say dispense with the creaky old stories and just do full on musical theater stuff. Why not? Who’s writing the new musicals with dancing that’s not a throw-back but some sort of new, vital thing? Anyone? And it’s fun?

But back to Cole Porter. Look---that closeted so-and-so could really write a song. The syncopation. The swinging tight chords. So worth it. Even sitting through silly bits that were tiresome in the first act, it was worth it.

I say go for it. It isn’t perfect. But what is? My ass? No.

Start spreading the news---New York, New York…

Get on the boat.

Less Vampire Action

Today is, you know, my birthday. And though people make New Year’s resolutions, I usually make some sort of mini-switch on my birthday.

So this is the new idea---write during the day instead of at night. When I say day, I mean the afternoon.

I can do it.

Goodnight.

Oh Bummer

Vote for extremists, you get extremist behavior.

I don’t understand this Tea Party. And I am upset because I drink a lot of tea and resent the moniker.

Obama? Oh Bummer. I say---you should have called their bluff. Default would have been interesting. But you played wise-daddy. I guess when feral children are pissing all over the furniture, you just have to bring out the paper towels, clean up the mess. Eventually, they’ll leave home. A relief.

My whole response to this thing? I bought a goldfish for 39 cents, setting up the scene for good luck to arrive.

I know what the Righties want in order to save the economy. A big war. But wait---new paradigm! Wars are bankrupting. Learn something, please. Please. Or just, start your own country. Gladly give you the states we don’t want. Bye.

It Isn't Bambi or Anything

The hoofed rabbits of North America...eat everything in sight, on display this time, one eats apples.