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Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category

The A-List

Posted in Personal, tagged , , on September 2, 2010| 4 Comments »

The way I figure it, I’m either A) so spiritually advanced that I have transcended human concerns or B) I’m just completely self-involved. I think it’s probably B. Whichever the case, it just never occurs to me to worry about what other people think.
Just for openers, other people are almost always wrong. What foolishness would it be to put my fragile psyche in the hands of the folks who did the macarena, sang along with Mambo #5, imprisoned Galileo and Nelson Mandela and voted for Taylor Hicks, Hitler and most elected officials.
But more than that, basing my choices on what other people think deprives me of originality and the possibility of self-worth. Obviously, I try to be considerate of others. (I said “try”.) And I think laws allow us to live in limited harmony in a crowded world. Beyond that? Well, that’s just soul crushing conformity.
Perhaps the greatest manifestation of the lock step, insecurity of the small minded is the idea of an A-List.
Born of an overwhelming sense of inferiority, the A-list allows a group of people to be “superior” to those not in their group for not being in their group. Group access is gained by virtue of ascribing to a randomly chosen series of criterion. The same haircut, brand of jeans, body type, tax bracket, skin color, etc. can allow any group to proclaim themselves better than those who part their hair on the other side or whatever.
I think the point is, there is nothing superior or inferior about those on any A-List.
Believing oneself to be on an A-List is simply the outward expression of deep inner feelings of inadequacy and no sense of belonging. Believing other people are on an A-List and attempting to join them is just sad.
The former are like those dreary people who insist on telling you how “wacky” and “wild” they are. Wild and wacky people do not need to tell you they are either. In fact the telling is the antithesis of both. Very good looking people do not need to put VGL behind their names like college degrees or tell you how good looking they are. Spending time making it clear how smart you are, really only demonstrates one’s intellectual uncertainty.
So too is the proclamation of or the aspiration to coolness.
Coolness is like humility. Once you think you are qualified to speak on the topic, you no longer are. Saying you are cool makes it anything but so. And you cannot be struck cool by adding your name to any A-List. Being an A-list anything, is the opposite of something special, it is announcing you are the same and nothing more.
I suppose the only exception would be if someone or some entity like a magazine or board of governors nominates you to be on some A-list or other. Like the Rock and Roll Hall of fame is an A-List of sorts, but it’s members earned their place on an arbitrary list made by someone else. The Rockers on the list arrived there because of their originality, not their conformity.
People from groups who feel especially disenfranchised can sometimes feel this pull the strongest. Minorities, like mine, have lived their lives on the outside. Hell the members of my merry band are not yet even treated as citizens.
As a result, the all too human ache to belongs is especially strong. Rather than being inclusive and supportive of one another, we find those within our own group to look down on. We come up with a set of arbitrary standards that describe us and declare ourselves the A-List. It’s instant self-declared superiority, a heady and seductive brew to someone who feels second class. Strict conformity mitigates those pesky feelings of alienation. Despite the fissures of insecurity, we can buttress fragile ego with the assurance of membership. Not just us against them, but we’re better than them.
It’s how gangs work.
So if you earn a certain income, fall within a proscribed age range, live in the right neighborhood, work in the preferred field, visit the correct vacation destination, have the proscribed body size, acquire a partner who meets the latest requirements for beauty, or you are said partner, you too can be on the A-List. At least, you can until any of those things change. Then you’re out. And, since you didn’t think much of yourself before, imagine how bad you’ll feel.
Sandra Bullock was asked after winning the Oscar this past year, what advice she’d give young actresses following in her footstep? Her advice was: “Don’t.”
Be an original. Make your own group. Choose them based on how good they are at being your friend, not on how they’ll make you look. Be the best version of you and let the lists fall where they may. And dear god, if someone tells you they’re on the A-List, run.

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Loneliness

Posted in Personal, tagged , on August 31, 2010| 7 Comments »

We get hungry so that we remember to eat. The species would not have survived if we didn’t. We would have starved and never known what hit us. Pain causes us to seek a remedy.
The same is true of loneliness. Living our lives in concert with others is challenging. Given the violent and conflict spattered pages of our history, people seem ill-suited to live together in society. But for loneliness, we’d all be on our own. As it is, human relations are fearful, guarded and distrustful at every level.
We all agree that love is the best thing that ever happens to us, yet it characterizes almost none of human affairs. Imagine banking or even something obvious like medical care predicated on love.
We are together because we starve for one another’s company.
Being human, I have spent a lot of my life starving for companionship. For whatever reason, I have always been single. Add to that the fact that I’m apparently more than a little odd and possessed of a near complete lack of concern for approval. For this or whatever reason, my connections to others have been what might best be characterized as tenuous.
It’s been a painful condition, at times. I’m still human so I get lonely. I have the same longings for pair bonding as the next fellow. But at the same time I seem to lack either the physical or character traits to attract people into my life in a more meaningful way. I’m not even sure what those traits might be, but I cannot deny my results.
That great irony of this is that I have a host of friends and acquaintances, and a rich, full and joyous life. I’m very social. I have a good time at most parties and social events. I can’t imagine what anti-depressants would be for. I get on easily with almost everyone. Auto mechanics, to medical professionals, to folks at the dry cleaners light up when I arrive. When I had my wisdom teeth out a couple of years back, the folks at my local grocery store grilled my friends for details of my recovery. When I returned to shop, staff members actually left their cash registers and checkout lines to meet me at the door, welcome me back and inquire after my health.
So, I live in a world where I’m beloved literally wherever I go and where my phone doesn’t ring on the weekends. People seem to adore me. Yet, I have only been asked on a date four or five times in my whole life. I’ve done a lot of my own asking and the most common response is flight. Apparently my sexual interest must be something fearsome.
It’s a puzzle.
I spent years staring in the mirror trying to discover the fatal flaw that separated me from the rest of the world. I’ve tried to contort myself into some shape or form that seems to be what people are looking for. I’m clueless.
And then I made an amazing discovery.
A couple of years ago, on book tour, I met a man. He had not come to meet my famous writing partner, as most everyone else had. He had come to the signing to meet me. I was a little startled. My writing partner actually got his number for me. I called. He was visiting from out of town. I asked him out anyway. He agreed. It was a nice enough first date. Not the most amazing thing, but I had a good time.
He left the next day but stayed in touch. We spoke on the phone frequently. He seemed interested and persistent. Oddly, he never called me from home. Every call he made was placed while he was in transit somewhere else. He went on a business trip to New York and called while walking back to his hotel. He never answered the phone when I called. He only ever called back or on his own. He went missing without explanation.
“He’s married,” my writing partner pronounced when I told her about how it was going.
So, I asked him. He assured me he was single and that he would try to do a better job.
I took him at his word. Things improved. I was going to my parent’s home for Christmas that year and suggested making plans around seeing him for New Years. He was near enough to mom and dad for me to schedule flights the connected through Atlanta, where he lived. We talked about planning it. He agreed. Then he disappeared. I called to get his take on various plans and timing. No answer.
I was going to my parents anyway. I gave him their phone number so we could plan New Years. He was in retail. I knew Christmas would be tough for him. I tried to be understanding. I figured we’d talk after. I went to Mom and Dad’s. I had a great holiday with them. The guy never called.
My first instinct was to go to Atlanta and try to make things work. He seemed great. He said he was single. It wasn’t like I had any other offers. You can’t win if you don’t play, right?
And then it hit me. I want to spend New Years with someone who wants to spend New Years with me. What’s more, if no one does want to be with me at midnight on the 31st, then I’m just fine on my own. It was possibly the most freeing thing that’s ever occurred to me. I understood Gloria Steinem’s “fish without a bicycle” concept in whole new way.
I love my life. It would be great to find someone to share it with. But it’s going to have to be someone who actually makes a great addition to the life I already have.
I don’t have to examine me in the mirror, beyond regular care and maintenance. I’m just fine, thank you. I hope to meet someone who thinks I’m the cutest things since pigtails and the hottest since Tabasco. No more trying to shape me into what appears to be the object of others’ desires.
I want to be amazed, or I don’t want to play.
Hell, I’ve waiting this long. Right?
Meanwhile, I’m not starving. In my own weird way, I am surrounded by people who love me. I have great friends and a family I’ve learned to love people for being exactly as they are. I’m not lonely. And if who I am never qualifies me as husband material, then I get to have the wonderful life I’m already having. That’s not a sacrifice.
Best of all is knowing that I’m not single because there something wrong with me and there’s nothing wrong with me because I am.

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Invisible

Posted in Personal, tagged , on August 23, 2010| 10 Comments »

I’m over thirty.

Okay, I’m WAY over thirty.

As a result it seems, the cells in my body have become less and less reflective rendering me virtually invisible, particularly to others who are WAY over thirty but also to the general population.

I was at a Lambda Legal event recently.  I was standing talking to a friend of mine who is only just over thirty.  A man, probably a little more on the WAY side than me, came up to us and began speaking to my friend as though I was not there.  When my friend attempted to introduce me, Mr. WAY responded irritably, as though being introduced to a child’s imaginary friend while in the midst of some life saving explanation.  He almost looked at me and then began speaking to my friend again before he’d even finished shaking my hand.  He never actually spoke to me.

That has been my most frequent social experience for the WAY number of years since I hit thirty.

Living in West Hollywood, where every day is swimsuit competition, I could easily take up bank robbery for extra spending money.  I’m convinced no one would see me walking into the vault and helping myself.

There’s this fellow, also on this side of thirty, who I know socially.  We have all the same friends, we work in the same field, we live nearby, vote at the same poll, I’ve been to his office, I’ve participated in a private screening of a documentary he made, given him notes, he has been to my house.  Yet he has never once remembered my name or recognized me.  On one such occasion, I was out with a younger blonde friend of mine that Mr. Memoryloss had met at my house.  Mr. M actually came up to us and began speaking to my friend and did not remember me or my name when prompted.

It’s really that bad.   Clearly I have faded from view, right? What other explanation could there be?

Well recently, I’ve hit on a new hypothesis for this phenomenon.  I call it Jaguar Theory.  It goes something like this.

The most popular car in the world — even with the whole “breaks optional” thing — is the Toyota Corolla.  It’s not the most luxurious.  It’s not the most comfortable.  It’s not the fastest, or the prettiest or even the best designed.  The Corolla is the most popular car in the world because it is the easiest to get.  It’s cheap, it’s available and it’s disposable.  For less than it would cost to maintain, you can simply throw it away and get a new one.  Nothing against the Corolla, they’re popular and dependable and affordable.  They’re even the most stolen.

There are far better cars, but they ask more of the driver.  The reason most people don’t drive Jaguars is not because they’re bad cars.  They don’t drive them because they are not up to it.  Too hard to get, too expensive to buy, too costly to maintain and too valuable not to.  Most people are not willing to do what it takes to drive a Jaguar.  It’s just easier to drive a Corolla.

I think the whole invisibility thing works the same way.  Men hang out at strip clubs, because the strippers will let them put money in their pants.  Women sleep with their trainers and pool cleaners because they leave after the appointment.  People are frequently with who they’re with because it’s too much trouble to be around people you have to treat decently.  Still more fearful and exhausting is trying to find people who treat us properly.

Men hit on people younger than they are not because they’re younger.  Age, it turns out, has very little to do with this.  Used Corollas sell briskly.  Men hit on younger people because they think they are stupid and easier to boss around.  The older man believes that he will be able to feel superior and act accordingly.   They’re usually wrong, but it’s easy to blame their age when they get rebuffed for their bad attitudes.   And, just like Corollas, the available young are plentiful and easily replaced by a newer model with less self-respect.

They call it settling down for a reason.

Dating a peer or even looking to settle up is too frightening, threatening and challenging for most.  And who can get it up when they’re scared? They look instead for someone they can dominate or someone who they believe will be so grateful for their attention that they will be free to do as they like. How daunting to chose someone you respect or, worse, to respect yourself.

This strange behavior of the majority to seek second or even third best creates the false sense of invisibility among the Jaguars of the species.  Just as our Toyota buyer never stops by the luxury motor dealer when he’s in the market, most people don’t bother to look at those they think they can’t afford.  Eventually they just can’t see them at all.

I know it’s easy to think this is about looks, but that misses the lesson of the Corolla.  Those puppies are all tarted up with power windows, Blue Tooth, IPod docks, reclining leather seats, surround sound, air conditioning, custom paint.  It makes a very seductive little package.  But like lipstick on the proverbial pig, it’s still a Corolla.

In ten years, it will be a ten-year-old Corolla.  A well-kept and maintained Jaguar is far more likely to become a classic.  Attend a car show and see if there are any Corollas there.   But why invest the care and maintenance when you could just scrap the first one and move on this year’s new model? And one would have to have a high opinion of themselves to drive the Jaguar.  Who wants a car that makes them look bad?

So, on days when it feels like I’m invisible I try to remind myself that I’m just a Jaguar in a world full of Corollas.  Which are you?

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Equal Wrongs

Posted in Personal, tagged , , , on August 18, 2010| 8 Comments »

So get this.  An angry mob is trying to deprive a minority group of their constitutional rights.  Can you believe it? Apparently, in an effort to find an issue on which they can campaign and raise money and viewership, a groups of political and media opportunists have whipped a local zoning issue in New York into a national frenzy.

All I can say is: “Welcome to my world!”

Monday, over 3 million Californians once again had their civil rights suspended.  But the news on every front page and network is that a religious group wants to build a community center and the Foxpulicans need an issue to run on since they haven’t done or stood up for anything decent in the last ten years.

It kind of kills me that no one sees or mentions the correlation.  It’s really the same issue.  The majority, whatever their feelings, does not get to deprive the minority of the rights that the majority enjoys.  That’s what the constitution guarantees.  It’s really the whole ball game as far as the founding principles of the country goes.  Taking away people’s rights is as anti-American as it gets.

My point is, when you let it happen to gay people, then it can happen to you.

So now it’s Muslims.  Who’s next? Catholics have gotten a lot of bad press here lately.  Maybe a majority will rise up and not want Catholic Churches in their neighborhoods or to allow Catholics the same rights to marry and raise children as everyone else.  If it can happen to me, it can happen to you.

Everyone is a member of a minority.

What if we start rounding up Republicans and putting them in concentration camps? They don’t believe the same things as the majority of Americans, so why not?

Because we’re all in this together, that’s why.  If I don’t stick up for your rights, then who will stick up for mine?

I was pleased that the President sorta-kinda-almost stood up for something there for a minute.  He said that Muslim Americans were entitled to the same civil rights as all Americans before he kinda-sorta took it back.  But if he really believes that, where the hell has he been on Prop H8 and Don’t Ask Don’t Tell? What happened to repealing DOMA?

It isn’t a question of whether or not you believe that gay people should be able to get married or Catholics should be allowed to practice their faith openly or that Republicans should be free to move about the country.

The ONLY questions is:  Do you believe in equal rights for all Americans?

That’s it.  The people who don’t want the Muslim Community Center and the ones supporting Prop H8 do not believe in equal rights for all Americans.  They are Anti-American.  Let’s start painting them with that brush.  Let’s get away a from the politics of division and find something we can all agree on.

I believe in equal rights for all Americans.  Do you?

I think it’s a simple question and I think it’s time we started asking it of all these hate and fear mongers who’ve been doing all they can to get out the bigot vote, raise money and build ratings.

If we expect to start finding some answers, we have got to stop asking the wrong questions.  Do you believe in abortion? Do you believe in gay marriage? Do you believe in Jesus Christ? Do you think the one true god is Allah and Mohammed is his prophet? Because the answer to all those questions is the same.  Who cares? Good for you.  This is America, you get to believe whatever you want and so do I.

The question that unites us and the one we ought to start asking these pundits and politicians who seek to divide us is:

Do you believe in equal rights for all Americans?

Honestly? I think we all do.  I just think in all the noise and confusion of this media fueled, soulless age of cynicism in which we live we’ve forgotten the only question that matters.

And it’s a tough question.

If you believe in equal rights for all American you believe in the Muslim Community Center.  You believe that gay people have a right to marry even if you disagree with their choice.  It means you believe that Catholics and Mormons can refuse to marry gay people in their churches.  It means that the Nazis and the KKK can believe whatever it is that they believe.  It means that even if you don’t believe as I do that you don’t get to tell me what to believe.  That is equal rights for all Americans.

And if you don’t believe in that, then you don’t really believe in America.

Let’s get this question out there.  Let’s start asking all those who would tear us apart for their own gain with their spurious questions of our articles of faith.  But let’s start where it counts.

The next time you hear some tree hugger or some right wingnut railing on about something that makes you want to sew their lips shut, ask yourself:  Do you believe in equal rights for all Americans?

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The Jet Blue Crusader

Posted in Personal, tagged , , on August 13, 2010| 4 Comments »

When Jet Blue Flight Attendant Steve Salter took the emergency route off the plane where he worked, he slid into the hearts of Americans everywhere.  He is our hero because we are sick of each other and we hate air travel.

I guess, the terrorists win again.

Oh, not those terrorists.  The 9/11 assholes only made getting to the airport and onto the plane a living nightmare.  No, the true horror of flying could only have been brought to you by those evil forces bent on destroying everything good and decent in American life.  I mean deregulation.

Like being able to deposit money in a local bank and know that it will stay in your own state to help foster growth and business there? Let’s deregulated that, because the folks at BofA are soooo much more helpful.  Like being able to just call someone and get your phone fixed? Quick, deregulate that away.  Like knowing that major institutions of finance are legally enjoined from taking us down the same road that led to the Great Depression? Let’s deregulate them.  It’s working out great, right?

Air travel used to be sort of elegant and at least civil, if not civilized, until deregulation.

When I graduated from college with degrees in Theatre and Philosophy and no “good” marriage prospects, I did the only thing I knew to do.  I went to New York.  Where else to go with no actual employable skills? I saved up my money working at Target (it was call Richway in the before times).   It took a little while, but I was able to salt away enough to pay for a couple of month’s on a friend’s sofa on West 44th and a coach airline ticket.

It could not have been a more lovely trip.  My friends came to the gate and saw me off with hugs and tears.  The flight attendants were lovely and helpful, making sure that I had a comfy trip, a nice dinner and that I arrived in New York refreshed.

It remains a treasured memory.

And it’s not like it was that long ago.

The airlines were “deregulated” in the mid 80’s and nothing has been the same since.  An act of Congress ended the ironically names Civil Aeronautics Board because, as experience teaches us, we consumers always benefit when industry regulates itself.

Increased competition was supposed to afford us more and cheaper air travel options while opening up opportunities for the “little guys” in the industry.

Since then, airline travel is up to sardines-in-a-can levels but most airlines lose money like Banana Republics.  Air travel has become an endurance test for passengers and the beleaguered air corps who fly us.  Every year another merger forms the new largest airline in the world – so much for the little guys – and every year more passenger services are stripped away.  With bankrupt airlines and slave ship passenger accommodations, apparently nobody benefitted from deregulation.

Add to this the dehumanizing and souls sucking security ordeal that simply boarding a flight now entails, and crashing seems the least of our fears of flying.

I heard a woman who’s running for Senate in Nevada say the other day that Government isn’t the solution, Government is the problem.  The people are the solution.  Two questions come to mind 1)If she thinks government is the problem why is she running for office? And 2) Who does she suppose the Government is if it’s not the people?

We have spent the past 30 years dismantling the country and selling it off piece by piece.  I’m not sure how that makes it better.  I look at places like Afghanistan and Somalia and think:  We’ll they don’t have any government and their lives don’t look that great to me.

Then again they’re totally deregulated.

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A Little Less H8

Posted in Personal, tagged , , , on August 6, 2010| 2 Comments »

Turns out, you can’t pass laws taking away the rights of people you don’t like! Imagine that.  In a country literally built on the principle of inalienable equal rights, it has taken all this fuss to determine that the majority can’t take away the rights of folks they hate.  And we’re still going to have to ask a few more people before we can be sure.

Honestly!

But, that said, the world is a little less hateful today than it was the morning of August 4th.  I’m relieved and glad and celebrating.  The gay boys and girls in California are still singing.  I feel like I can celebrate the outcome of the November 2008 elections for the first time.  At the time, I felt so excluded from that exultant outcome by the electoral expression of hatred that is Prop H8.

But the end of a little more voter sponsored bigotry is a victory for every American, not just the gay ones.  Everybody is a member of some minority.  That’s right, no matter how mainstream you are there’s someone out there who hates you for it.   Save for the ideals that, in theory at least, protect us all, I could make a list of the groups I don’t like and put together a campaign to systematically take away their rights through grotty little ballot initiatives and special interest legislation.

For instance, were it up to me Rightwing radio and TV hosts would be off the air and forced to give up all their money and property to the poor, barred from speaking in public or publishing their hateful, untruthful and misleading words.  I’d give five dollars to Deport Rupert dot com.  And bottom feeding, fear mongers are a tiny group.  It would be easy to take away their rights.

What about hateful religious groups? The reason we have separation of church and state is actually not so churches can play politics tax free.   It’s because many immigrated to this country initially to escape the religious persecution where they came from.  That’s changed.  Today churches are in charge of religious persecution.  But, church by church, each denomination is still a minority.

What if a group set about to take away one specific denomination’s tax status, strip them of non church property, bar them from voting and prevented them from marrying or adopting in an effort to get their group to die out? Unlike being gay, religion is actually a choice.  Who would choose to convert to a religion when doing so would cost them their rights as citizens?  Another easy five dollar donation.  And, after the Mormons and the Catholics actually gave money to Prop H8 and promoted it from the pulpit, maybe even ten dollars of my money would be winding it’s way to Get-the-Hypocrites dot com.

I’m not saying that anyone should do any of this.  What I’m saying is that the rights of Pious Jerks and Radio Wingnuts are safer today, because a few more gay people fought for and won the same rights everyone else already had.

If you can’t take away my rights because you don’t like me, then I’m less likely to be able to take away your rights when I don’t like you.

It isn’t perfect, but it is a little less hateful.  I think that’s what this is all about.  The Constitution points out, we are seeking to “form a more perfect union.”

Today, that union seems a little more perfect, to me.

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Home Made

Posted in Personal, tagged , , , on August 4, 2010| 2 Comments »

Whenever I’m offered something that’s “Home Made” I always ask myself:  “Who’s home?”

I’ve been in some homes where I would not have eaten anything offered.  Got a Home Made Pie from a home with unemptied cat boxes, overflowing trash and a texture to the kitchen counters?  Well, I’ll pass.

I kind of feel the same way about the Family Research Council.  “Who’s family?” and perhaps more to the point, “What research?”

Theirs is the kind of family where Dad campaigns against equal rights for all Americans, particularly the gay ones, and then hires a young man half his age from Rentboy.com to accompany him on vacation.  Then, because dad is such a great guy, he lies about hiring the prostitute even though there’s home movies of them together at the airport.

If dad wants to take a hooker on vacation, I don’t really think it’s any of my business.  Mom’s maybe, but not mine.

But let’s say dad founded an organization called the Family Research Council, as George Alan Rekers did.  And suppose that organization is devoted to preventing Americans from having the right to marry people of the same sex, just as the Family Research Council does.  What kind of research would then convince Daddy George to pay someone of the same sex hired off of Hustlerboy.com to go on holiday with him? Was it these same findings that told him to lie about it? Or was it a different study?

Either way, theirs is a family reunion I don’t want to attend.

And what about Uncle Tony and his prayer group of Christian Law Makers? Was it research data or just good old fashioned Christian family values that brought AFC President, Tony Perkins together with those Godly legislators in a televised prayer circle to entreat the Lord for the poor health or, better still, the death of an ailing Senator so they could prevent poor people from having access to healthcare?

Whichever it was, I’d rather pass on Thanksgiving at their table.

Now, the good family folks at the Family Research Council want to ban groups they are prejudiced against from access to public transportation.  That’s right, not just the back of the bus, they want the right to keep other people off the bus entirely. Or in this case, off the train.

Just like in the good old days, the FRC family values bigots actually object to sharing public transportation with minorities they are prejudice against.  Fortunately, it’s gays they hate.  If they came out against black or Hispanic Americans on public transpiration they might actually have more to fear than sharing a seat.  (Head’s up though, research shows it was okay to be for whites-only drinking fountains not so long ago.)

What kind of family are these people a part of? And what is their research telling them? That God hates poor people? That Christ would pray for a man’s death to get his way? That calling for a return to Pre-Civil Rights Act restrictions on public accommodations and transportation is a good or even a popular idea?

My research indicates that none of those are particularly family values.  But then who’d order cat hair pie, right? They can hardly call themselves the Voice of Evil and expect to raise the kind of money they need to protect the health insurance industry.

So apparently, according to the latest Family Research Council data, it’s okay to take a rentboy on vacation, just not on the train.

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High School Civics

Posted in Personal, tagged , , , on August 2, 2010| 5 Comments »

I had dinner with some friends last night at Gardel’s.  It was lovely.

There was a man in our party who works as a teacher here in LAUSD.  Despite the pay cuts, layoffs and daily violence he faces, he did not complain to me about of any of that.  He did tell me that he is being persecuted by the parent of one of his students for being gay.  She made up stuff about him, forced an investigation and got her totally untrue rumors spread thoroughly about the school.

In short he has been made to suffer by a liar who faces no consequences.

I know what’s wrong with her, but what the hell is wrong with LAUSD?

Gay people don’t have rights in this country.  We are not citizens.  We are treated almost daily to the bigoted and outrageous claims and statements of people who have nothing to fear in making them.  Right wing pundits can call a politician a faggot and still have a career.   Saying that something is Gay is a commonly used term of derision.  Telling the truth about your sexuality can get you fired from a Federal job.

There was a time, not too long ago, when a black man could be lynched for “leering” at a white woman.  Today the person making any such claim would be suspect, not the man.  My friend, whose career is being impacted by the false charges of this bigot, is on the same limb.  There may be no rope involved, but threatening someone’s livelihood with false claims is threatening his life.

Will the cities of this country have to be burned again in order to expand civil rights to include all Americans?

Maybe if we funded education the way we fund the military, we’d be smart enough to learn from our mistakes.  Who knows, maybe we’d be so smart we’d no longer need a military.

We’ll certainly get no smarter if a man who’s working in dire conditions, at reduced pay, to help educate the child of this ignorant woman, is forced out of his profession because of lies, bigotry and the systemic refusal of this country to offer equal protection under the law.

Just in case you’re wondering its:

Ramon C. Cortines

Superintendent, LAUSD

333 S. Beaudry Avenue

Los Angeles, CA 90017

2123-241-7000

Superintendent@LAUSD.net

Email and contact details for the school board can be found at:

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Discovery

Posted in Personal, tagged , on July 30, 2010| 1 Comment »

Discovery

I’m working on a new novel these days.  It’s thrillerish, so I’ve had to do something I don’t really like to do.  I outlined the story.

I like to read novels because I want to know what’s going to happen next.

I write novels for the same reason.  I want to know how they turn out.

Often, I’m surprised by the turn of events in a story that I am telling.  If I can help it, I try not to know how things end up.  It keeps me interested in the story long enough to finish it.  Sometimes though, I have to write to an outline or I’m following real events or the nature of the work is too complex to leave it to chance.

Because of the style of the book I’m writing just now, I kind of have to know where I’m heading.  I don’t want to end up with some copout, train wreck, Lost-style ending.  So, I have to think of ways to keep the telling of the story fresh.  Otherwise I get too bored and before you know it, I’m shopping or looking at porn.

Success varies.

The computer is a huge challenge for me in this.  The very same tool I use to write offers distraction on an epic scale.  The excuse of checking the Email, or Facebook can drag me away from what I’m doing.  Just mentioning it, actually has me thinking I should switch over quickly now.

Once there, what else to check on? The temperature – my Google home page weather gadget actually offers current weather conditions, i.e. the temperature, as recorded at the park across the street.  Now I have a thermometer on my desk, next to me, but I can’t hardly keep typing this entry for wanting to see what the temp is at the park.

Recently, a friend told me about a “dating” site he likes.  Now I have long since lost interest in internet dating.  The idea is great, but the implicit resume building dishonesty of the process doesn’t really work for me.  On a dare from a friend, I joined Match.com in the last year or so.  I put up an un-retouched snap shot, told the truth about my age and myself and kissed fifty bucks good bye.  Not one single response to any of my attempted contacts and on the two occasions when someone spoke to me first, when I replied, they never did.

I’m not feeling sorry for myself here.  This is just the reality of a dating process where I’m in direct competition with professionally made porn and candid snaps of Zac Efron at the beach.  ( Just went to check the spelling of Zac’s name and found out that it’s 70.6 degrees across the street.)

Occasionally, because this truth kind of annoys me, I will create and post a fake ad offering up the fantasy that I know my peers are looking for.  The speed with which my inbox fills up is almost as dispiriting as the reality of my most recent online dating excursion.  Turning them all down is some consolation.

So anyway, I’m working on the new novel.  I check the temperature at the park and I remember this new dating site.  Well, it’s about time for a break.  I’ll just quickly check it out.

Now I have to tell you, my present concern is with my career.  Dating would be lovely, even if it was only for an hour, but that is not really a big concern for me.  Honestly, I’ve reached a point in my life where I’ve made peace with the fact that a love life is probably not in the cards for me.  If I didn’t have to pay rent I’d give up on the career too — though never on the writing.  But this site? Well, I’m on break.  I’ll just have a quick look.

Oh my God! They actually have people who are looking for a “date” listed by neighborhood and, in my case at least, street.  I’m sunk.  How can I not look to see who’s there?

And I was so richly rewarded! In addition to a number of people who I know and think are kind of yummy and who don’t acknowledge that they know I’m alive, there are some real finds.  I try to guess, based on the photo backgrounds, which buildings on my street these people inhabit.  There’s even a naked shot of a guy taken in MY LAUNDRY ROOM! I’m hooked.  It’s bad.

So, while I write I log on, just to see who’s there.  My profile is not flagrant.  It’s an old one with an older picture, enough to be intriguing without being clear or a slut about it.  I don’t respond or say anything to anyone — it’s more the dating-by-the-hour kind of site.  It’s fun, it feels a little naughty, a little like I’m getting away with something.  And then one morning, I see the profile of a guy I actually think sounds kind of great.  He seems a little too young for me, though he’s probably lying about that. Still, he’s kind of excellent.  And it’s a picture of his great smile, not some body part.  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” I think.  And I move on to one where I recognize one of the fireplaces from my building behind the action.

Then I get an Email from the guy with the great smile.

I’ll just check.

It’s charming.

I fight the urge to respond and lose.  I don’t flirt.  That’s not really why I’m on the site and my profile is only resume honest.  He’s smart and complimentary, flirty without the usual “what are you into?” kind of smarm.  He’s a professional.  He’s avoiding work, too.  He wants to buy me a drink.

Sigh.

So, I tell him the truth.  I tell him I’d like to meet him.  I tell him I’m not really serious about the site so my profile is not as forthcoming as it might be.  I tell him I’m interested, but I tell him what the resume omits. I give him the out since he didn’t actually get to ask me for coffee, it was a profile.  He never replies.

Ouch.

Now, I was not online to meet anyone.  I’ve given up on dating.  I was just avoiding working on my novel.  I only ever looked at the site because of the “geographic insights” that it offered.  And it DESTROYED me.  I was crushed.

The very thing that informs my interest in books, in movies, in TV and in writing is the thing that makes life almost unbearable.

It’s the not knowing that makes me turn the page.  But it’s the uncertainty the makes me avoid working on the book.  Is anyone going to like this one? Will I make a sale soon? What’s going to happen?

Hi, this is who I really am.  Would you still like to have that drink?

Maybe it’s the manageability of the revelations of storytelling that makes it preferable to the agony of the not knowing that is real life.  Still, it’s real life that so rarely surprises me.

Maybe I prefer fiction because I can’t predict the ending.

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Names

Posted in Personal, tagged , , on July 28, 2010| 4 Comments »

Je m’apelle Eric.

But that’s not what everybody calls me.

Over the years I’ve been called a lot of things.

In Spanish class they always used to give me a Spanish name at the first of the year.  Mine never seemed to stick.  I was always so Eric.

Queer used to be really popular.  I got that a lot in “middle school.”  Do they still have middle school I wonder? Or have they gone back to having junior high?

Fag really gained in popularity in High School or the more formal, faggot.

I was so sexually naive that for a long time I didn’t even know what it meant.  It was just bad.  And then of course I understood what it meant.  And then I understood that I was.  But was I bad?

I didn’t think so.

For a long time, these names made me really angry.  Then one day it hit me.  I am a fag.  By every definition of the bigot’s efforts to slur me, I am.  The name only hurts if I think there’s something wrong with being a fag, and I don’t.

I live in West Hollywood where I’m told we have the largest concentration of gay people per capita of any city or whatever.  That means a lot of great things for me.  Mostly it means that I get to be not special as I go about my day.  What it also means is that if there’s some bigot out there who wants to call a gay person a fag, they pretty much only need to drive through town, roll down their window and shout.  Yelling fag in West Hollywood is like using a semi-automatic weapon, you don’t have to aim very carefully to hit your target.

Such affronts used to send me into a defensive rage, memorizing license plates, answering in kind.  Now, I just smile and wave.

I am.

You can’t hurt me with your hatred if it is no longer shared.

Still, I’m not big on the rather casual play that gay slurs get in the media.  What if Anne Coulter had called John Edwards the ‘N’ word? A very different outcome, I think.

It is currently okay to use slurs against gay people and white men, it seems.  One group because they really don’t care cause they already rule the world and the other because the government still sanctions institutional discrimination against them, so it must be okay.   Guess which is which.  This is not to say there aren’t many groups suffering the pains and privations of bigotry.

My point I think is that the power of names is given by the recipient not the user.

Everybody is calling everybody else a racist.  It is heartbreaking to witness the plight of the white Anglo Saxon American heterosexual male, these days.  N’est ce-pas? (I think that’s French for “You feel me?” or, for the other white boys out there, “Get it?”)

In the end the charges are at worst cynical manipulation or at best useless.

I can’t stop anyone else’s bigotry or their feelings of hatred, but I don’t have to participate.  Waving my flag and freaking out doesn’t seem to be helping.  In fact, with the current spate of poor put upon white men being ‘discriminated against,’ outrage seems to have been co-opted by the most bigoted among us.  Ask Shirley Sherrod.

I think the solution is the same now as it was for my Uncle Glenn.  When he was a little boy he was surrounded by a house full of doting women.  He had no need to speak.  He could just cry or throw a fit and he would be provided with all his needs.  By the time he was three, or so the story goes, he had yet to utter a word.

My Grandfather Silas, by all accounts a rather forbidding man, decreed that Uncle Glenn was not to be fed again until he spoke.

Apparently he was jabbering like a magpie by suppertime.

The point, I think, is this.  If we stop paying attention to the “shocking” utterances of bigots and racists and stilly white boys trying to draw a foul, they’ll try something else.  They really only want our attention, so what if we only pay attention to the good stuff? What if we only answer to the names we want to hear?

Meanwhile, just smile and wave.  It really pisses them off.

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