St. Theresa, We Love You!

Today was Grace and John's Most Excellent Adventure to Avila and Segovia. (Go Google them!) We got up early this morning so that we could be ready for the bus that would pick us up at 8:15 at the hotel. It arrived shortly after 8:30 (amidst a lot of nervous tourists). We were transported a mile or so to a tour center on Gran Via. We clambered aboard a different coach, and by 9:15 were weaving through the streets of a Madrid Saturday morning.

We had a nice tour guide. She wore her clothes a little too tight, which would have been alluring ten years ago, but the shine has faded. Okay, I'll stop with the snarky comments. She wore a bright pink shawl (and carried a designer handbag) and was quite dramatic in her historical/religious/patriotic pronouncements - which is everything a tour guide should be. You knew it was important when she sat down her handbag to speak.

On the road, we climbed the mountains northwest of Madrid, and hit the road to Avila. As you come into the city, you see a spectacular walled city on the hill. The city is completely walled, and is the finest example in Spain. Most cities with walls have knocked most of them down, because they are an impediment to development, but Avila has preserved its walled old city, and it is everything a walled city in a fairy tale or a romance novel about knights, kings, and princesses should be.

Immediately outside the St. Vincent gate, the largest gate in the wall, is St. Vincent's Basilica. The church contains the remains of St. Vincent and two other saints martyred with him. He and the others were children when they were martyred, and the tale is probably worth a Google search, which I highly commend to your spiritual development. The sarcophagus containing the remains of the saints is a brightly painted coffin that's been around for about 750 years. Where they kept the saints' bones before then, I don't know.

We walked completely through the old city, ending up at St. Theresa's church. St. Theresa is very popular in these parts, and is somewhat of a cottage industry. The church is built over the home in which St. Theresa was born, and a chapel in the church was built EXACTLY ON THE SPOT WHERE ST: THERESA'S MOTHER GAVE BIRTH. The chapel is a monument to reverential excess, more gold and gold leaf than you can shake a stick at, but nevertheless, a remarkable homage to what must have been a remarkable life of a devout woman. She was not martyred and lived to ripe old age. Next to the church is a little museum of St. Theresa and a gift shop. The museum contains some of St. Theresa's manuscripts, her walking stick, her whip (or "discipline"), a sole of one of her sandals, but most intriguing, her very bony ring finger with the ring intact, presumably not removed until after her death.

From Avila, we headed for Segovia. The first view of Segovia is of its Cathedral, and it is a giddy display of stone in the Rennaisance style. We're talking about lots of towers and spires. It's very dramatic. We hopped off the bus and headed into the old town to see the aqueduct. It is quite a piece of architecture that is higher than the buildings in the old city, very dramatic skyline. Near the aqueduct were some re-enactors dressed in Roman and Barbarian garb. It looked the like the Barbarians, or Visigoths, were having more fun. I'm not sure about the realism, because one could draw the conclusion that Barbarians wore t-shirts. Cool Halloween outfits.

After viewing the aqueduct, we headed off to lunch at a cafe in the old town. We had a bean soup, a beef stew, some vegies, and ice cream. The soup and stew were really wonderful home-cooked fare. Hearty for all the walking we were doing. From the restaurant, we made our way to the Cathedral. The church is really more dramatic on the outside than on the inside. The inside is decorated in the Spanish Baroque style. The two organs in the choir loft are pump organs and date from the late 1600s. The cathedral was build between 1525 and 1768. Its predecessor was destroyed in a war in 1520. The outside architecture is spectacular, and worth a visit.

From the Cathedral, we continued through the old town to the Alcazar. The alcazar is a combination fort and palace. The old city is built on a mountain top that falls dramatically into the valley below, add to that a tall wall and a couple of towers, and you have a scene from Prince Valiant. The moat around the tower is now drained, but when full must have been 75 feet deep or so, and it is at least that far below the entrance into the alcazar, underneath a truly intimidating tower.

The alcazar is still in use today, in addition to being a tourist site. The Spanish military archives are stored here, and the alcazar is a museum for the Spanish artillery. The public rooms of the building house an artillery exhibit (we're talking 14th century armor), and the royal rooms of the Kingdom of Castile(?), including Queen Isabella's bed and bedroom, reception areas, and the king's room. The building is being restored, including the ceilings. Much of the furnishings were destroyed in fire in 1862, and the ceilings were all wood, and were lost. The restoration continues, and the ceilings are done in a Spanish-Moorish style that is geometric, and features a lot of gold leaf. We ended the alcazar tour in the royal family's chapel. The reredos behind the altar features scenes from the life of Christ that is painted on wood. It's very beautiful work. Of course, I found a painting of St. Sebastian. He's still having a bad day at the office.

We walked about a mile back to the bus, climbed aboard and headed back to Madrid. We got here about an hour and half ago. I thought you'd all want to know. I hope this note finds you well.

Love, Grace and John

Why Would I Want to Buy a Car When I Can Rent a Seat on a Tour Bus?

We had more adventures today, and we've even prepaid on an adventure tomorrow. That's about as much forward thinking as I've done for this trip. Really!

For maybe the second time in my life, I slept through the alarm this morning. That really is alarming. Grace told me that the alarm was really loud, too. I guess a 37-hour day will do that for a fella. Grace and I are learning the art of travel. Last night, I washed out our shirts mainly because we´d been in them for 30+ hours and you could tell that at a distance. I hung them in the shower, and by lunchtime today, they were dry and ready to go. Grace brought along (what I thought was a dubious product) a bottle of stuff that you spray on wrinkled clothes, and when it dries, the clothes are wrinkle free. It really works! Wow, do I love new technology. Who needs a travel iron?

I shaved today, amid decals and signs in the bathroom decrying Madrid's water shortage. The signs worked. It sparked some efforts on my part to conserve water. I'm wearing my new travel shirt today, and it is very comfortable. It's designed with a yoke across the back that is a vent so that heat is supposed to escape blah, blah, blah. It also has some kind of fiber that wicks moisture away so that you don't get pitted out too much. It seems to work. Best of all, it's wash and wear, and cleans nicely in the sink.

We finally got down to breakfast. High carb, with augmented pork protein, con queso! How did the hotel staff know that this was part of the John Burlison diet? I did eat somewhat sparingly, but certainly had enough to fuel me most of the day. Lots of little old ladies and their gentlemen friends (or husbands) are staying in the hotel, acting a lot like tourists, except they speak Spanish. None of them had hair that had known natural color since the death of Franco. Most were a little stout, but carried it in a commanding and convincing way, accenting their curves with exotic leopard prints and loud/hot colors worn defiantly across heaving bosoms. Give these women fabric, and expect a fashion statement! The men were no match. Also in the dining room were some college age kids in at least two configurations, Russian and American. They had stayed up very late the night before, beneath our room on their balconies, drunkenly singing old American pop tunes. I guess I'm getting used to it. Madrid is a very noisy city all the time, and these kids were no match for my earplugs. They all had healthy appetites.

After breakfast, we headed out for a bus tour of Old Madrid via Madid Vision. These are double-decker buses that travel two different routes through the city. One of the routes is "Modern Madrid," the other is "Historical Madrid." Really, there isn't much difference between the two. We took the Modern Madrid tour first. We got lost (twice) trying to find the boarding stop. We noticed some other tourists having the same problem. This is a big city. Finding those bus stops can be onerous. The tour was along a couple of avenues that Brian, Ron, and I had walked extensively two years ago, so it was exciting to see those neighbhorhoods again, and to hear some of the history of those neighborhoods. The tour lasted about 70 minutes. We got off the bus near the hotel, returned to the room to freshen up, then headed to Starbucks, because I was incredibly undercaffeinated.

We split a sandwich at Starbucks, then sat and talked and drank our iced coffee and mocha lite. We dished all of you, chuckling all the while. We concluded that we have a wonderful family, but it sure is nice to get away from you once in a while. We are truly enjoying this time together, and it's fun and curiously satisfying to sit and sip and talk. We finished our lunch and headed off to a vast city park, El Parque del Retiro. We walked through the park for a couple of hours. It's full of paths, grand statuary, fountains, and palaces. At the Velazquez Palacio, a young couple were in wedding atire, having an extensive photo shoot with their photographer. I have a couple of pictures of them and the photographer. They were enjoying themselves. After the park, we jumped back on the tour bus for the Historical Madrid tour. It took us over near the Royal Palace and in to some neighborhoods that I hadn´t been to. I slept through some of this narrative, because I just couldn't keep my eyes open. I've since recovered. Don't worry, I have pictures of the tours, including the Ham Museum. I hope that I get to eat there.

After getting off the bus, we went to a neighborhood bakery for a snack and some coffee. Grace is now in the hotel room collecting her thoughts. When I get back from writing this, we'll go to dinner, then maybe a walk afterwards. We've purchased our tickets for our tour tomorrow.We're going to Segovia and Avila. It lasts most of the day. I'll let you know how that turns out. Love you all.

If This Is Thursday, This Must Be Madrid

We are in Madrid, and I am typing on a Spanish language keyboard. It is killing me! I met Grace at Passport Control early this morning, and the rest of the day has been a blur. We took a taxi to the hotel because we had missed our driver (it took too long for us to get through baggage claim because the flight Grace was on was about a half hour late).

After checking in, we took a walk up to Plaza Mayor, then on to the Royal Palace and the Cathedral. I find I am not taking a lot of pictures that I took two years ago. You can either be happy or sad about that :-) We ended back at the Plaza Mayor for lunch, and had a large tomato olive salad and a Spanish pizza with lots of ham. I still intend to make it to the Ham Museum. We walked right past it.

We came back to the hotel to recharge a bit, then headed off for a two and a half hour walk through of the Prado Art Museum. I have never seen so many crucifixion scenes in one place. We are talking about hundreds. Lots of little angels too, and one particularly baffling picture where a baby is dancing on about eight other baby heads. Reminds me of Galaxy Quest.

By this time it occurred to both of us that we smelled bad, and we were like the walking dead. We could hardly drag ourselves anywhere. We crawled back to the hotel, then took showers, and decided to go for an early evening walk. I headed straight for Starbucks, and we had some great ice drinks, and a wonderful conversation with an exchange student from Tennessee. We then walked up into the Chueca neighborhood where Ron, Brian, and I stayed two years ago. I really am suffering from recovered memories as we walk the streets of Madrid.

Stay tuned. We are planning on more great adventures, maybe an out of town experience.

On My Way out of Town

Everything is laid out on my bed to be placed in my two carry-ons, and I'll be flying out of here at 3 p.m. tomorrow afternoon. I had lunch with Michael (sushi at Moby Dick's), and Ron and I picked up some boxes at the liquor store so that we can pack the books in the basement (we're repainting because of a plumbing job).

This afternoon, I went over to see Tim, then we went to dinner at a nice Mexican restaurant in Rockville (excellent crab enchiladas), and headed off to John Marshall's Advanced club. I hadn't danced there for a month or so, and I really enjoyed seeing all of my old square dance friends. Finally, I got back here around 11 p.m., and Ron and I went over the cruise itinerary and papers. I had to answer some square dance club email, write in here, and I'm off to bed. I have a big day tomorrow!

Dr. Bonecrusher

I go to a chiropractor. His name really isn't Dr. Bonecrusher. A week ago, I pulled my back out, and could not bend without sharp shooting pains erupting out of my eyeballs, and a deep unconscious moan of pain emanating from my depths. I could stand, I could sit, but anything else was a mess. I went to see the good Dr., and he provided immediate relief. I still hurt a lot, but I could move, which was a great improvement over my previous state.

Today, he had me on his table. "Take a deep breath, breathe out." And with that he crunched my spine. The first time he did this (many months ago), it was decidedly unpleasant, but I'm used to it, and I can hear the cracking noise.

He also did this twisting action with my head and neck. He held my head firmly and sharply twisted it. It, too, was accompanied by a pleasing, cracking noise. A nagging fear is that he's going to do that someday, and my head will just pop off into his hands. Then what am I going to do?

Family Values

I approach this subject gingerly, stones, glass houses, all that stuff. I make a disclaimer here, too: I'm a late middle-aged gay Democrat living in an open 25 year relationship. I have four children, and I was absent in their lives while they were growing up.

I'm concerned about Sarah Palin's politics as they are shaped by her religious and political beliefs. Her family values are different than mine, and I'm afraid that a McCain-Palin administration might want to impose her brand of family values on the rest of us. I think it's fair game in this election to examine her family values and to explore their implications.

Governor Palin is opposed to abortion except to protect the life of the mother. She would ban abortions for women whose pregnancies are caused by rape or incest. This stance goes beyond the protection and sanctity of life to fundamental government interference in traumatizing personal crimes against women. In effect, the government forces women to carry the fruit of the violence with them for another nine months. This is not a family value that I can support.

Governor Palin is opposed to sex education other than abstinence-only education. People who support abstinence-only education often point out that contraception fails, but, as Governor Palin knows, abstinence-only education fails, too. A better policy is to teach young adults that abstinence is the best choice for preventing pregnancy and disease, but those same young adults need to learn the mechanics of disease and pregnancy prevention. They need more information, not less informaton. High school kids will continue to have sex, regardless of what they are told about it. Give them the tools to make the best decisions that fits their situations. Doing anything less means more pregnant teenagers.

Governor Palin has a beautiful family, and lots of love and support from her extended family to help her raise her children. She and her husband seem to manage the balance of being parents, and supporting their family, too. I believe this is an important example to bring into the public light. I also believe that many families don't have the extended family or resources to be effective parents or build strong families. Maybe seeing families like the Palins, the Obamas, the Bidens, and the McCains at the conventions and during the campaign will focus some attention on the urgent needs that many families have, especially for childcare and healthcare.

Finally, my family values are very different than Governor Palin's values, but that doesn't mean that we shouldn't sit down and talk with each other. I'm worried about single mothers. I'm worried about young men who father children without thinking through the consequences. I agree with the governor that abortion is not a good solution, rather we need to find effective ways to prevent teen pregnancies from occurring. I personally believe that abstinence-only education doesn't work.

I won't be voting for McCain-Palin in November.

Hanna Visits DC

We're in for a wet day here. The rain started a couple of hours ago, and promises to go on all day. We're under a flash flood watch until 2 p.m., and heavy rain late morning and early afternoon (3 - 5 inches). Sunday should be okay, though. What am I going to have for dinner? Cabbage?

Suddenly, this has become quite the hurricane season. I'm thankful I don't live in Haiti, which has had three major storms so far this year; such misery there. A hope, though, is that these storms will break the drought that has plagued the Southeast for the last couple of years.

The Cinema Effect Part II: Realisms

Okay, I'm over my head here. Ron and I went to see this exhibit at the Hirshhorn. The exhibit ends Sunday, September 7. The show consists of seventeen installations and two films. Many of the installations are thought-provoking, a few are just weird.

Film has a peculiar power to seduce us. If we recognize a celluloid image, it is real. If we recognize a type in a film, we make an analogy to what we know, and again, the image is real. Several of the artists touch on this theme about how realism affects our perception of the film, but film creates a realism that shapes our reality, too.

Some of the standout installations are Lonely Planet, Marlene Redux: A True Hollywood Story!, and The Simpson Verdict. A couple of other installations that I did not have an opportunity to watch completely, but looked interesting were John and The Third Memory.

The Hirshhorn takes on challenging exhibitions. Because it is a museum of modern art, the exhibitions demand the attention and concentration of the viewer. (I was exhausted when I left the exhibit.) I'm not particularly a culture guy or an art aficionado. I also suffer from a certain mental laziness (which my readers already know about). So I found this exhibit often inaccessible. I wanted to connect with the works that I saw, but many of them had me feeling like Homer Simpson. And maybe it would have helped had I drank a couple of beers before going.

I know I won't get back to this exhibit before it closes on Sunday, and I'm sorry for that, because it had a few precious connections between me and some patterns of light playing on a screen that I'd like to explore. The Simpson Verdict is an arresting animation of the courtroom announcement of the Simpson murder trial verdict, using the actual courtroom dialogue.

Marlene Redux: A True Hollywood Story! is a must see for anyone who watches E! or reads true life mags about the stars. The work has a compelling movieland realism complete with ick, sex (straight and gay), bad language, aging divas, and movie critics. Incidentally Marlene and The Third Memory also have gay themes that not so subtlety inform their realism.

I came away from the exhibition feeling disappointed, and wondering what did I see? But on reflection saw more than I thought, and am wistful about what I missed.

Online Communities and the Men Who Love Them

Last Thursday, one of our financial planners, Joe, invited Ron and me to lunch. This is always a good thing, because by picking up our lunch tab, he can more easily justify the fees he charges us. He must have a great job, taking people like me to lunch!

At any rate, he mentioned that we should get on Facebook and become his friend. I was under the mistaken impression (apparently) that we were already friends, but I guess we were just business acquaintances or something.

Yesterday, another friend, Chaz, sent me an invitation to join a Facebook group. I thought that this was a Providential Sign (I don't really believe in Providential Signs; I'm hedging my bets here, see Mr. Pascal and his wager, actually, I'm not even hedging my bets, I'm just making a literary allusion, maybe not even that). So I registered on Facebook.

Wow! what an interesting landscape. I've been on other social networking sites (okay, I've been on Manhunt, LinkedIn, and Classmates.com), but nothing quite prepared me for Facebook. I mean, it's a whole industrial segment, and probably accounts for a full 3% of the Gross Domestic Product.

Facebook really wants you to sign up and have friends. It's eerie, like I've just joined a cult, or something (not that there's anything wrong with that). If you import your email list, you'll be astounded that about 98% of the people you write to daily are also members of Facebook, and even stranger, you discover that you are the last person in Wheaton, Maryland to join the herd. Who knew?

But interesting things happen on Facebook, too. A guy I've been trying to get in touch with for years is suddenly my friend. A high school friend is now a Facebook friend. My two daughters are not only my friends, but they wrote on my Wall! Now, of course I'm getting excited, and I realize that maybe this is better than the other places I hang out at on the web.

No, I probably am not going to cancel Manhunt, but it's a very targeted community for special needs. And LinkedIn has a lot of my friends from work, although I notice that Facebook has a lot of those same friends, and it's a lot more social than LinkedIn. Classmates, well, most of the people I've connected with on Classmates are also on Facebook. Facebook is evidently the 600 lb. gorilla and the 136.08 kg canary all rolled into one.

And no wonder, duh! Facebook has a lot of stuff that appeals to a lot of people. At a glance, I can see what friends are doing, and I can always find new friends. I find the site a little intimidating in that it has so much to do and explore (Focus, anyone?). But I'm just blown away by the friends I see on the site, and how I have so many more connections than I had ever imagined. This site is a sociologist's dream. I have not yet asked Barack Obama to be my friend. But I'm thinking about asking Sarah Palin. After all, she's from Idaho.

I expect the novelty will wear off in a few minutes. Facebook seems to have more reach than just a social community, though. I'm pretty sure it will have at least as much utility as eVite. The coolest thing about Facebook is that I don't feel hemmed in. I see the activity of my own world all around me, and for now, that's fascinating.

Tim and Socrates

It's never too late to learn. At least that's what Tim thinks when it comes to the Continuing Education of Happy. He and I are working on the Socratic Method. Socrates was the guy who invented modern medicine among the Greeks. Just kidding. Even I know that dude was Hippopotamus.

The Socratic Method is a means by which a fool and his interlocutor determine the random fallacious arguments made by the fool. The interlocutor asks the fool a question, the fool foolishly answers, and then the interlocutor rips the fool a new one, if you know what I mean.

Tim hasn't ripped me a new one, yet, although he does at times ask me very puzzling and difficult questions. Most of these have to do with odd cultural references or something about the iPhone, clearly stuff I don't need to know. For example, "Happy, how many angels can square dance on the head of a pin?" The answer, of course, is one. Consider, for a moment, that the head of a pin is on a point and is, in fact, a point in space. We know from physics (and by extension, in this particular case, metaphysics) that two angels cannot occupy the same point in space. Ergo at most only one angel can square dance on the head of a pin; however, how can only one angel square dance on the head of a pin? This is a difficult question, because it takes eight angels to square dance.

Consider, that at Tim's program in square dancing (Basic Challenge), that a single angel could be dancing with as many as seven phantoms (although it is more likely that the angel would only be dancing with two other phantoms). However, the angel in our illustration is constrained by a single point in space, and, therefore, must be dancing with seven phantoms in order to satisfactorily answer the question, "How many angels can square dance on the head of a pin?"

When Tim uses this method of elucidation on me, he tires of it very quickly. He will often just ask me a question, then let me carry on the rest of the Socratic interview with myself. I have to admit that this is easier than having him constantly interrupt me with logic and facts. Logic and facts should never get in the way of a good baseless argument.

Sarah Palin?

A couple of things that Sarah Palin has going for her: she was born in Sandpoint, Idaho, and she graduated from the University of Idaho with a degree in Journalism. I say this, because I was born in Idaho, and I graduated from the University of Idaho in the same department, but with a different major.

Sarah and I have ended up on different sides of the culture wars. Tip O'Neill said, "All politics is local." In that scope, Sarah Palin's views on abortion, gay rights, and religion in the public sphere don't matter much. But those same views are quite alarming a heartbeat away from the Presidency, and her nominiation reflects John McCain's pandering to a religious base that threatens America's founding value, the separation of church and state.

While I wish this campaign would focus on important issues: ending the war, the national debt, the economy, and healthcare reform, John McCain in his selection of Sarah Palin as his running mate trumps any of his often thoughtful positions on the other issues. She is too extreme (and too inexperienced). That she may have input into decisions about who will be nominated for the Supreme Court is a chilling thought, indeed.

I hate these culture wars. But I'll continue to fight as long as there are extremists out there who would deny me the same human rights that they claim for themselves. John McCain's choice should fool no one. And it isn't going down well with this Idaho native.

It's Been a Painful Week

For the first time since Monday, I'm having some relief from some major back pain. I pulled my back out on Monday, and it's been miserable ever since. Damn those pachysandra, and my water bucket!

But I can't complain too much. It's been a good week, too. I've enjoyed watching the speeches at the Democratic National Convention. Go Barack! I am moved by this moment. America witnessed a new page of history being written in Denver. We should all be proud.

Besides watching convention coverage, I was working on the DC Diamond Circulate web site, putting up a volunteer page so that club members and other dancers can help put on our square dance convention next April. You can volunteer, too! I've had fun with it. It's caused me to brush up my PHP skills, and get crackin' with code.

And just because I had a backache doesn't mean I didn't have a sex life. For that, I am grateful. (Aw c'mon guys! What did you expect? I'm rolling my eyes, too.

Herstory and History

Tuesday, Senator Clinton gave the speech of a lifetime, and it was a remarkable moment. The woman who came the closest ever to the Oval Office, who had bested all the White Guys, was proclaiming her support for the Black Guy. Yesterday, Senator Barack Obama became the first African American to be nominated by a major political party in the United States. Today, Senator Obama will accept the Democratic Party nomination.

I've been enjoying the speeches. The rhetoric is red meat. Senator Clinton, President Clinton, and Senator Biden know how to deliver. This election has too much at stake for four more Republican years. That message was delivered loud and often. Barack Obama is the man. That message was delivered loud and often.

Field Trip on Frederick Rd.

Ron and I had an errand in Gaithersburg this morning (something about flying kitchen drawers needing repair), and drove past the county's waste recycling center. So on the way back we stopped in. Ron had seen an article in the Washington Post (KidsPost page), and thought it might be interesting.

It is! As you enter the driveway into the facility, there is a parking lot on the right in front of the Recycling Center where you can park. (Otherwise, you drive all around the facility and the waste transfer facility.) The center has an information room that tells you all about the county's recycling efforts. It also gives an overview of the recycling activities in the center.

After we read the information in the information center, we walked upstairs (be sure to get your earplugs!), and walked out on a mezzanine above the facility floor. From the mezzanine, we could see the various sorting activities, trucks bringing recycled goods into the center, and trucks taking recycled paper out of the facility. We arrived during lunch break, so we got to see all the workers get to their positions, then the machinery start up. It's an amazing collection of conveyor belts, bins, and exciting activity. Any guy who likes gears, belts, machines, and dirt will love this place.

The work looks like it's grimy and monotinous. I appreciate the employees (I think the center has about 30 people working on a shift), because they take care of the recycled waste of a million people, and the workers do it every day.

The visit is also eye-opening, because of the amount of waste that county residents generate. The visit reminds me (yes, this is a civics lesson) that I need to be cognizant of my purchases, and my habits. Some tips: the county now accepts more plastic items than it used to, including margarine tubs and lids. Also, you can recycle steel cans and their lids. Empty plastic drink bottles before putting them in the recycly bin (the extra weight sometimes gets them dumped on the wrong conveyor belt). Finally, quit using the plastic bags offered to you. Take some reusable bags the next time you go shopping.

Loaded for Bare

Synopsis: Set in a Catholic boarding school, the show centers on a group of friends during their senior year. Altar boy Peter is in love with his roommate Jason, one of the most popular kids in school. They are carrying on a closeted romance but Peter wants to go public with their affair, at least to his mother, whom he loves dearly. Jason isn't so keen on the idea, as he feels that his entire world would crumble if word of the relationship got out. Things get more complicated when Ivy makes a play for Jason. Her rejected suitor Matt discovers the secret that Peter and Jason have been keeping and it's only a matter of time before things start to spin out of control.

My thespian friend is onstage with the College Community Theater (CCT) with 2nd Flight Theatre Company production of bare, a Pop Opera in Sterling, VA. He's part of the chorus, a very cute looking part of the chorus. He told me about the production, and how excited he was to be in it. So I decided to go see it.

I did my homework. The Internet is all about Bare. I figured I'd be doing some major eye-rolling during the performance, and I was not disappointed. As the Director's Notes say in the program,

The show was optioned for an off-Broadway run in 2004, where it was panned by critics and audiences alike. Ask someone to explain teh plot of bare and you will hear nearly every Catholic school cliche in the book: teen pregnancy, drug use, homosexuality ...almost the whole canon.

Yes, the show is campy (although the actors played it very straight), the mother is a hysterical mess, and the nun has a big heart. But... the music is catchy, and the lyrics really grab the emotions. More than that, I think bare is honest to its context and premise. Indeed adolescence teems with melodrama. Teenagers, even the smart ones, do stupid things like fall in love with the wrong person, or never figure out how to love the right person. Of course, it all ends tragically, too! (But at least the play didn't include a fag-bashing.)

I enjoyed this production. The acting and singing were good, and the cast put their whole heart into their performances. And yeah, some of my eye rolling is because I'm a jaded old cynic who's thinking, "You're not trotting out that spavined old pony again!" My truest plaint is that you have to kill off the homo before the last curtain falls. But, what was I expecting? This is an opera.

Ouch!

New Refrigerator

A new refrigerator has come into our life. It was delivered this morning before 9 a.m. Two earnest, young delivery men showed up on our doorstep shortly before Ron had breakfast. I had already emptied most of the retiring fridge, but I certainly didn't expect the men from Appliance Land knocking at our door quite so early.

The retiring refrigerator still worked like a charm, but it was 41 years old, and its estimated energy cost was about $250/year, which is about five times what the new refrigerator will cost to operate. The new refrigerator will pay for itself in about five years as a result of energy savings. The expected life of the new one is about 10 years. I had done some research, and Ron did, too, then we went to Appliance Land on Thursday afternoon and inked the deal.

This refrigerator is going to take some getting used to. It makes noticeably more noise than the old one. It's also white and shows up every smudge. On the plus side, it's much larger than the 14 cubic foot one that we had.

Beaten, but not Bowed

So the guys bring the refrigerator up to the front door and wheel it in the front hallway. We have an island in the middle of the kitchen, and one of the guys felt that the island was going to make it difficult to move in the refrigerator. He asked me if it could be moved, and I told him it was on rails, but could be lifted up over the rails and moved out of the way.

He and I grabbed the island's countertop (a voice was screaming in my head: "Empty out the pots and pans before you move the island!!!!"). I'm quite good at ignoring myself. The top fo the island popped off, the island came crashing down on my left toe, and the drawer in the island went flying across the kitchen and ended up in pieces, along the quantities of kitchen gadgets accumulated over the last 19 years, and stored in that drawer.

Island sans Countertop

So this is what the island looks like now: the countertop is leaning against it, and the drawer is in three different pieces in the living room, waiting to be taken to a furniture shop for rebuilding on Monday. The drawer contents are in a box in the dining room. You'd be surprised how inconvenient it is to have all your kitchen gadgets packed in a box in the living room. I hope the furniture shop guys can repair the drawer quickly.

In the immediate aftermath, Ron felt a little queasy, after I told him about my toe. I told him to get on with his breakfast, and I started putting all of our food into the new refrigerator (focus on the immediate situation!). I also wiped some yogurt off of a cupboard, the victim of the exploding island. Eventually, things calmed down.

So after the catastrophe (which is really overstating it), Perry came over to consult about the countertop. Then he and I made a list and headed off to Home Depot. I like shopping. I bought some glue, Dep 10-Minute Hair Clog Remover, two wood clamps, two screwdrivers, ten wood screws, and the fall issue of "Fresh," a magazine full of goodlooking recipes.

By the time I got home, the toe was really bothering me. We couldn't find a bowl suitable for soaking it (my foot isn't big, but most bowls aren't big enough), so we ended up putting some water and ice in a small cooler. It fit my foot, and brought some immediate pain relief.

Tomorrow, I'm going to fill in the screw holes in the island countertop, and attempt to install it (I did it the first time, 18 years ago, so I might as well give it another whack). I'm also going to try to repair the splintered fiberboard in the drawer with some glue and filler (hence the wood clamps). I'm taking the drawer to a furniture repair place on Monday to fix it properly.

So that's been pretty much my day.

Kefi

We have a newly opened Greek restaurant in our neighborhood, Kefi. Tim joined Ron and me tonight for dinner there.

We started off with Imam Baldi (eggplant with garlic and pine nuts) and Horta (dandelion greens) for appetizers. The small plates here are small, but very tasty. Ron and Tim had the Bronzini special (a very dead fish), and I had pork loin in mustard sauce. I really enjoyed what I had - I mean how could I go wrong? The pork was served on top of sliced fennel root, and set off with some sliced potatoes. Frankly, the dish looked white, but it tasted glamorous. I completely cleaned my plate, if you know what I mean.

No dinner is quite complete without dessert. We all had the Kataifi Ahkmek. I think we were swayed by the promise of shredded phyllo. I'm sure that's it. Sweet, custardy, and a good excuse to eat dessert. A woman from the table beside us engaged me in some envious conversation about dessert. Her husband said little.

And that was today's gastronomic adventure. I'm sure we'll be back.

Portugal Looms

I visited my travel agent yesterday. The vacation across the Big Pond is taking over my head. I'm twenty days from departure. I've been a little more focused on the trip this week. I tend to get overwhelmed, thinking about the details. So I've been concentrating on actually doing things that will get me to and from Portugal.

After seeing Ms. Travel, I went to Barnes and Noble and purchased a couple of maps of Portugal. Between them and the Lonely Planet tour book, I'm going to start laying out a more definite itinerary for me and my sister.

We fly into Madrid and spend three days there. There were lots of things I didn't get to see the first time, so I'm looking forward to seeing the city again, and doing some more exploring. I especially want to go back to the Prado and spend several hours there. I need to dust off my Madrid tour book and my Spanish phrase book. Homework!

I've also ordered some travel clothes and a new backpack, and I need to get a European adapter for my computer and battery charger. I haven't decided completely whether to take my computer, but it would be nice to have it with me on the road. I also need a security wallet and a secure strap for my camera.

I've started a Portugal folder to put all my travel papers, passport, tickets, and reservations. My theory is that if I act like I know what I'm doing, I might actually know what I'm doing. My sister and I are excited and are getting ready to roll.

Sex and Politics - Can't We All Just Love Each Other?

Shortly after posting my last blog entry, I received an email from one of my most avid readers, "you've heard the latest re: Manhunt ... ?" with an ominous looking link. Jonathan Crutchley was asked to step down as chairman of the board of Manhunt because of a $2300 campaign contribution that he made to Republican Presidential candidate John McCain. (Crutchley has also resigned from the board.)

McCain has stated his opposition to marriage for same-sex couples, gay adoption, and ENDA. He supports the current military policy of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

Crutchley's contribution may cause a backlash on Manhunt. Manhunt members are being urged to cancel their accounts in protest of the campaign contribution. One writer suggested a boycott. Others are suggesting that members use alternative web sites. The writers are a little shrill (read the comments at the end of the entry), a lot of heat, but little light on the issue.

And what is the issue? Does Mr. Crutchley's contribution mean that he's a bad, hypocritical, self-loathing man who is making evil dollars off of gay men who want to have sex with each other? I doubt it. And $2300 is nothing when it comes to campaign money. I think most of the writers just can't stand the idea that some gay people might be Republican (I do admit, though, that it is a rather odd phenomenon.)

A couple of issues seem important here. Mr. Crutchley can contribute to any candidate that he wants. I disagree with his choice of candidate, but Mr. Crutchley has his reasons, and he actually spelled them out in a response to a reader (see same entry, above). The other issue is the "ick" factor. Sex and politics are a pretty combustible mix. Was I supporting John McCain when I entertained my gentleman caller yesterday afternoon? Should politicians accept contributions from the owner of a sex hook-up site? Is the most intimate, personal act ultimately political?

Well, yes, homo-sex is political. Gay people are on the spot to protect their sexual lives, and their relationships. The pressure from the political and religious right is relentless, and will continue long after John McCain and Proposition 8. How much should our personal, sexual politics drive our social actions? Should gay men everywhere boycott Manhunt?

That, too, is a personal choice. Before you fire off an angry cancellation email to Manhunt, you should know that Mr. Crutchley was acting on his own behalf, not on behalf of his company. The company co-founder, Larry Basile, is a life-long Democrat who has done a lot of activist work for the community.

I won't be canceling my membership on Manhunt any day soon. Just like I'm not boycotting other companies whose chairmen and directors are contributing to John McCain's campaign. I don't make my decisions about which companies I patronize on the basis of the owner's campaign contributions. I'll cancel my membership on Manhunt when a better hook-up site comes along.

Gentleman Caller

He called it a date. I would have used a different term of art. In any case, he arrived on my doorstep this afternoon, and I have to say, he looked good, and he performed a good deed.

Most of the men on Manhunt (and you know who you are), are looking for immediate relief. Don't get me wrong, I sincerely understand, and periodically need relief myself, I just can't offer immediate attention to your felt needs.

So I was pleasantly surprised when a gentleman with whom I had exchanged messages on Manhunt weeks ago, sent me an email on Saturday suggesting that we get together this week. Emails like this fill me with anxiety, because my schedule is very constrained with square dancing, lunch invitations, dinner invitations, as well as the other very important things that I do with my life. My fear is that when I tell the guy, "Well, how about 2 p.m. on Wednesday, or 4:30 p.m. on Tuesday, week after next," that he will think I'm playing "mind games" and will drop me from his social set.

I told the gentleman either Tuesday late afternoon or Thursday noon. Remarkably, he was good with that. We exchanged a few other email pleasantries, and he ended up on my doorstep.

I'm grateful for technology that facilitates me having sex with other guys. Admittedly, we don't know or find out a huge amount about each other, but I wouldn't be doing this if it meant I had to go to a bar. Forty seven minutes after he arrived, he was heading out to the gym. He was smiling, and I was, too.