All of these presents and I don’t even have my tree yet.

Kwannukahmas time is here.

Time for Christmas trees, Unity and awesome menorahs.

AWESOME!

The tree in Rockefeller Center is looking fantastic and my prune-dried soul is filling with Seasonal Feelings of goodwill.

I dedicate this tree to a certain Mr. Charles Brown

After-all, it is the time of giving.

And boy, has the Universe provided.

Yesterday, OOMFPAWWIHFOAMFOY, told me about Glenn Beck’s Christmas Sweater.  The “Glen Beck Experience” in which how he recounts how he was an ungrateful, hateful little asshat of a boy and crushed his poor mother’s heart (on Christmas no less) and then she died.  Now he’s telling his story to illustrate his redemption and his faith and to show us, the great man that he’s become.

This story…

Created this man…

Seems about right.

Last night though, my girlfriend, Rachel Maddow, Ph.D. (Doctor Maddow to you), gave me the best gift of the season.  [Wow, that sounds kind of dirty when you re-read it.  Go ahead, re-read it.  I will wait.]

Anyhoods, there was dancing with shades and a disco ball.  There was insightful news making and there was the sheer and utter delight that is Rachel Maddow.  The whole episode is genius.  But what really brought it home for me was the “I guess I’m racist” ad.

Thank you anti-health reform wingnuts for building this beautiful new toy in your workshops of terror.

You should watch Doctor Maddow’s clip for some very incisive commentary from (my other girlfriend who’s not Ana Marie Cox) Professor Melissa Harris-Lacewell.  [Another gift.]

The whole add for your chortling pleasure.

Here’s the thing.  If I was watching the television, as I am want to do, and I looked up and saw a majority of white faces¹ telling me that they were racist, I’d say, “Of course you are.  Now how do I get back to that other channel, I need to see if the Cowboys are going to win this game?”  “Or.  Okay, I hope you’re not interrupting my Fringe with this mess.  Because if you’re interfering in my deep and meaningful relationship with Olivia Dunham we are going to have words.”

What I mean is that I wouldn’t be surprised.  I’d be annoyed that you were using your white-privilege to disturb my sacred TV time to tell me, but… you’re a racist, you obviously don’t care about the wants and desires of little ol’ X-Files missing me.

In words of my very astute friends: If someone tells you about themselves, believe them.
I believe  you racists.

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¹And seriously, two black dudes and dude of Asian Pacific Islander decent.  I know it’s hard finding work as an actor and all, but… did you know what you were signing up for?  I mean, we’ve done our share of bad shows/movies/plays what have you.  But seriously?  We have all done things that are going to get us kicked out of our respective clubs.

I’m just saying… Black Dudes… be on the look out for operatives from SCAN.

Let’s do the Time Warp again.

Last week it seemed like it was 2001 (and we all know what a banner year that was for America) now it seems like it might be 1998.

Why?

Because Lilith Fair is back. I know that I’m the last to know (I am not on the email list), but it’s breaking news to me.  And secretly the young, I’m not quite sure if I’m a lesbian but I like it here because all of these ladies are super friendly to me and I do enjoy a compliment, BPD is pleased as punch because well, all of the ladies at Lilith Fair were super friendly to me and I do enjoy a compliment.

But still, one of my favourite people at work who I haven’t figured out a moniker for yet (and frankly doesn’t OOMFPAWWIHFOAMFOY seems a bit long? Awesome, but long.) and I were talking about how we just can’t get all of the way behind it.

Because I mean, the late nineties were all about ladies doing their best Joni Mitchell impressions what with their guitars and their scarves and their sing-songwriter with a little dash of now let’s all sleep with each other thrown in. Oh those Halcyon days, when all a girl needed was a sweet pair of overalls and a beaded necklace.

But we’re in the two-thousandsies (Dr. Rachel Maddow says it and so can I!) now and things have changed. I mean, sure, ladies are still super friendly to me and I do enjoy a compliment but the music landscape is totally different. I haven’t seen my overalls in a while now and I always give RHS the stink-eye when she ties on a scarf. Also, who’s going to play?

Miley Cyrus
Beyonce
Katy Perry
Lady Gaga

I mean, they’re nice girls and all, but I just don’t get the Lilith vibe from them, you know, and the former headliners are, well, former.

I mean, Sarah McLachlan hasn’t had a job in ages. Those ASPCA promos just don’t pay the bills.

The Indigo Girls have faded to just plain old blue. Emily went and got her heart broke and Amy Ray went and got… uhm, younger women?

Tori Amos has made it clear that she’s not into the Lilith Fair (Isn’t she just our favourite little megalomaniac outside of Barbra?) so we can count her out – again.

Who’s left?

Joan Osborn – haven’t heard from her in ages so I’m thinking that she got mugged by one of those strangers on the bus.

Shawn Colvin?
I’ve got no jokes about Shawn Colvin. Sunny plays with fire.

So you can see the dilemma.

Who’s currently happening in the industry that fits within the Lilith milieu? And does anybody still want to pay to sit on a lawn among the scarfed and questionably washed (friendly though they may be) to see them?

These are the tough questions facing the Lilith Fair promoters. And I know that there are lists all over the interwebs with dream line-ups and they’re alright and all, but I have one that beats them all.

Lilith Fucking Fair Bitches!

Patti Labelle
Not only did LaBelle release a new album a year ago but Pattie Labelle is prepared to sing herself into a diabetic coma. That is some showmanship. Ain’t no acoustic guitar toting girl (even you, Ani) can beat that.

Heart
How do we get them alone?

Karen Oh
Oh yes!

Meshell Ndegeocello
Who is she and what is she to me? One badass sexy lady. Who plays bass. And is badass and sexy. Why are there even questions about this?

Tina Turner
Her Buddhism will add the den mother factor. Also, she owns a white and a silver leather jumpsuit. That totally beats the scarves any day.

Barbra Streisand
Barbra Steisand is a colossus astride the earth (and with her don’t rain on my parade policy you are guaranteed great weather).

Liza Minnelli
You are guaranteed Quaaludes, mascara and an amazing wig-off with Tina Turner.

Crazy with a Z

Whitney Houston
Whitney needs a gig ya’ll. And frankly, you’re going to need someone who knows exactly how to revive you when you’ve had taken too many of Liza’s happy pills and had too many crack (oh, I’m sorry cocaine) laced pot-brownies.

Elton John
Bitch loves a party. And costumes. Win.

You know you’d rather see this line up than anything Sarah McMopelan can throw together.

Don’t front.

Wild Rumpus

RHS and I saw There the Wild Things Are last night.

We laughed, we cried, we told each other which Wild Thing we thought we were and then we went home…

…and the soup was still hot.

I think my search for a theme song may be over.

When work starts to get to me I channel my inner Barbra.  Specifically this Barbra.

It totally works.  You should try it sometime.

Oh, and by the way… you’re welcome.

Team America, Fuck Yeah!

Suck it, Brazil.

Earlier this week I was feeling all down about the fact that America lost its bid for the 2016 Olympics but I must say this news this morning of President Barack Obama winning the Nobel Peace Prize – after three of our scientists taking the Nobel Prize in Medicine – really eases the pain.

After all, Brazil may have won the Olympics, but they didn’t win any Nobel Prizes.  Maybe we can loan them one of our 318.¹ 

Now I am sure that some outlets on the Right are really working hard today to paint the fact that our sitting President winning a Nobel Peace Prize is a super bad thing.  I’m sure that someone will even have the gall to throw in a little Affirmative Action into the mix to which I say: It sure as hell is an Affirmative Action pick.  Barack Obama winning the Nobel Peace prize AFFIRMS that his ACTIONS are in line with the aims of the global community and AFFIRMS that America’s ACTIONS are being well received by that community.  Which is awesome for Team America.

If the certain outlets on the Right want to believe that this is bad then, well, that’s on them.  Some people just like to be miserable.  Maybe the flags that they’ve wrapped themselves in have gotten too tight and have decreased the flow of oxygen to their brains.  Maybe they’ve been smothered by their tea bags.

Course, I would like to remind them, that you can’t be a right proper jingoist, if you’re going to be all Team America, Fuck No about this.

And also, in Team America news… we fucking shot the moon.  And it’s as awesome as it sounds.  I’m going to wait until to post Dr. Rachel Maddow’s take on it tonight.  Which should be totally nerdalicious.  Fuck Yeah!

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¹Which makes me kind of sad for Brazil.  Seriously, maybe we can give them one of ours.  Not Barack’s, but someone’s. 
Brazil is awesome – my friends have the pictures on Facebook to prove it.  The Olympics are going to be a rocking good time because, I firmly believe, Brazil knows how to party.  And sport.

Interwebs lift us up where we belong…

Last week was a hard week.
I was totally stressed out at work.
I was audited by the IRS and had the first of my installment payments due and had to figure out what I wouldn’t be paying in order to give the government its due  (fingers crossed this gets me the Public Option I want).
I’ve been a bit worried about something coming up in my offline life that’s been keeping me distracted and I found a line on my face.  The worst part is that the line on my face is probably caused by the frequent and painful multiple day-long headaches that I have (which are probably migraines).
Also, I found out the the Phelps clan would be in my fair borough to picket outside of synagogues on Yom Kippur because they’re classy-McClassersons who are still protected by Free Speech. And though I am not Jewish and I didn’t spend the day fasting (I did spent the day tidying and meditating on things that I might need to atone for [like calling my sister "stupid" a lot when I was younger]) this kind of… just nastiness by the Westboro klan really floored me.

There were some bright spots.

RHS booked an Off-Broadway gig (which pays) and is now finally able to turn Equity.  This makes us a two Equity-card household.
Oprah Winfrey kicked off her 24th Season with interviews with Whitney Houston, and in a double whammy Jay-Z and, the light of my life, Barbra Streisand.

But the brightest spots were found on the interwebs.
I was browsing my favourite blogs and discovered Wordle.net (beautiful world cloud maker) at CKHB’s blog.  Here’s the wordle from last week’s entries.

Every silver lining has a word cloud.

I found out where the limited edition Barbra Streisand Barbie doll can be purchased.  (Wink, wink.  Hint, hint.)  And I found videos of the Vanguard performance (that I, sadly, did not win tickets to).

Hello, dolly.

Some smartasses after my own heart found a way to counter the non-housebroken-ness of the Phelps clan.

Amen, dude.

And finally… Oprah gets surprised.

Thank you interwebs.

The Interwebs hearts the gays…

At least that’s the spin that I’m putting on it.

• Ben & Jerry’s all but admitted that they’re big ‘ol gays (and possibly married to each other!).

Hubbylicious.

• Vermont is making New York State look bad in the best possible of ways.

• Hypocritical bigots make themselves look bad and hopefully get the severe lactose intolerance they deserve.

• Ellen Degeneres tells us about the importance of outer beauty and flashes her eyes at us.

• Rachel Maddow survives the Swine Flu and is the 2nd sexiest woman with a gun.

2nd sexiest woman with a gun.

#1 sexiest woman with a gun.

I know she's not carrying a gun in this shot... but still, 1st sexiest all the way.

Thank you, interwebs.

Wedding Gifts.

So this weekend while I was Whitley Gilberting around the Berkshires I managed to have myself a lovely time at a truly beautiful wedding.

Sure the outdoors, and Massachusetts, and very little connection to the outside world, and square-dancing (Yes, ya’ll, square-dancing.  And let me just say that we can now officially check that off of the list of things that white people do that black people have yet to dominate.  Cuz, I dominated.  I’m so good after square-dancing I might need to move up a notch to dodecahedron dancing – that’s right twelve-sided and three-dee’d.) and sing-alongs and rain and doing all of the above in the rain aren’t specifically my thing but what I loved was that they were the brides’ things.

I know that sometimes being a big ‘ol gay I can get caught up in how the world is totally fucked up and get my feelings hurt by the sheer number of people trying to deny me my basic human rights and trying to dismiss the 5-year committed, monogamous, investment in the greater us, that my relationship is, as something tawdry and fringe-y and fly-by-night.
It was wonderful to go to a celebration of the union of two people, who, rather than dwell on the fact that even when they go back to Kentucky they can’t get on each other’s health insurance, decided to commune with their guests and share their love and commitment with us.   It was refreshing to be surrounded by the family and friends of the brides who could think of no greater joy than being able to be present at this event and witness this union.  I was heartened by the guests that brought their children.  I was touched by the many heterosexual couples in attendance who were aware of the privilege of their government sanctioned marriages (or upcoming marriages).  I was able to take a break from being pissed off and let them be pissed off for me.

And that revealed its own very specific privilege.  I was able to think about how nice it was that the brides got exactly what they wanted.

Ketubah and Quaker marriage contract.  But of course.
Rabbinic officiant and Episcopalian minister (who happened, in the best of the Episcopalian wisdom, to be a woman).  Why not?
Cake decorating contest during dinner instead of one big extravagantly decorated cake.  Forever hold your peace.
Man of honor.  Honorable indeed.
Photobooth?  Picture perfect.

Dance Dance Revolution.

RHS and I really like the Man of Honor.

These brides don't blush.

It was the perfect wedding.
And you know what?  This happened because there aren’t, as yet, prescribed notions for weddings with brides (or grooms) of the same gender (or the same un-gender).  The brides were able to tailor their wedding to their desires because there was no pressure to conform to tradition.  What a privilege that is!  What a boon!  Everyone in attendance came away with the distinct impression that they were there because their presence was specifically and personally wanted.

And more than the great food, choice music, customized aprons and memories the greatest gift that I was given was the knowledge that when RHS and finally get into the nitty-gritty of planning our wedding (coming soon, October, 2010) we never have to question if any of our choices make sense, or will make someone uncomfortable.  We never have to worry that we aren’t playing by the rules or that we will commit some wedding faux pas.  We’ve been given the gift of total and complete freedom to share our union with the family of our choosing.  And other than my commitment to her and her commitment to me, that’s one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.

A Poem for the Children (who are 30)

Image by BDinPhoenix. Borrowed from Flickr. Click photo to view stream.

Part of me will always be
Wishing I was in a tree
Or’n a crow’s nest in the high seas
Swaying on the ocean breeze.

No wonder it’s great trouble to stand
When I have my feet on land,
Or why my smile turns bear-market down
When there’s naught below but ground.

The me I know myself to be
Is happiest when sailing trees,
Or climbing up those ships that breeze
About the verdant summer seas.

Pay it forward.

My friend Katherine and I know each other from some weird collective unconsciousness in which we were both barefoot and fancy free and probably floating on a raft headed toward an adventure greater than the one that we’d just left behind.

I am quite fond of Katherine.

So fond, in fact, that I want to do all that I can to give her the best birthday ever.  All that she wants is “a little more warmth and kindness in the world.”  It’s totally simple, ya’ll. 

The basic idea is this: [She] will ask [her] friends to perform at least one random act of kindness as [her] birthday gift… [And] when they perform that act of kindness, to leave a note inviting the recipient to “pay it forward” and perform a random act of kindness for someone else.

I would very much appreciate it if you would help me give Katherine a great gift this year.