NYCweboy

I Am Seriously Getting Too Old For This...

As I wander around the intertubes, looking for something, anything to distract me and change my mood, I find this - and when I find myself nodding in vague agreement with Kathryn Jean Lopez at NRO, and find myself shaking my head at the "Ask Professor Foxy" segment at Feministing... I'm either getting too old... or too conservative. But seriously... is it just me?

Update: In addition to confirming it's not just me (Thanks, Mom!), I also found that Lopez posted the link to Feministing as a follow up to this post, which is more in line with K-Lo's usual embrace of macho nonsense and traditional male/female gendered expectations (she was one of those "9/11 reminded us that manly men are firefighters and policemen" types, which even she now admits pretty much didn't take)... all of which makes rejecting her gendered expectations pretty easy; I'm all for revising the notion of being a man to include the actual expression of emotion and uncertainty. It's called being human, K-Lo, which seems like something to value, not ridicule... even in bisexual boy hustlers with queers cis girlfriends.

Whatever Happened To The Boy Next Door, Suntanned, Crewcut All American Male?

As you may have guessed, I am on a little beach holiday with my friend J, yes, the J in a certain Maryland city with the roving camera and an eye for color.

Long ago, when I first started this blog, I mentioned my criteria for a beach town, and Rehoboth still fits the bill. Walking around today - on a weekend on the line between "in season" and "off season" - I was reminded of the charms of the beachfront houses, the length of sandy beach, and the relaxed feel of a beach town. In my mind, when I am here, I am always thinking about what it would take to make this my eventual home - I believe it takes one trilogy of phenomenal bestsellers, adapted into a hit TV series, followed by a short, but successful career writing feature films. Still totally doable. :)

J says I should stick to political writing. :)

The other thing J and I discussed - aside from all the permutations of double edged follow-ups to "I've Missed You" - is the sense that the gay resort scene has gotten les... "look specific." It's something that could be said more generally of the gay male community, and of gay enclaves all over. The body conscious, perfect specimen notions of male beauty still exist of course... but the whole feel, these days, I find far more "real." Real guys who let it go a bit, who don't live their lives only at the gym, who see more of themselves than their abs, their hairstyles, and their quest for perfect looks in others.

I've Missed You...

... damn these cheap rifles
... and you'd think, with a tire iron...
... where's my lariat?!
... most haven't
... but my lawyer says it could still mean prison time
... there must be a hole in this net
... many many times in the past
... and please send my regrets to your twin
... stand up
... stand still!
... Dorothy's House won't.
... but the ravages of time have not.
... but then, as you say, I throw like a ...
... and now *sigh* Grandma's in a wheelchair
... which isn't so bad, but my henchmen have too, and they shouldn't have. Not at these prices.
... the hair on the belly under my nipples isn't gray.

...wait... let me try again

I missed ewe... have you?

- weboy and j in b, together again

Gone Fishin'...

As previously announced, the NYC Weboy will be on a hiatus from blogging here for the rest of August. Please scroll down, as it's likely that J in Baltimore and RedStar may fill in the gaps with musings, links and photos of their own. You may also find me blogging some critical things over at newcritics. I will not be checking this blog on any kind of a regular basis, but I can be reached via e-mail (nycweboy at nycweboy dot com)... and I do welcome correspondence. I will resume blogging the Tuesday after Labor Day. Yes, that means I will not blog about the Democratic Convention... but just assume I liked Hillary's speech, that the VP selection is not my favorite choice, and I wasn't all that impressed with Obama's speech.

Have a great summer. Enjoy.

OVERpacking for the Beach – a List

 

• Address Book - in case of old friends, or new
• ATM Card – spend spend spend
• Bandaids - in case of foul play
• Bathing Suits – the fat one and the not-so-fat one
• Batteries, Double A – because life takes electricity
• Beads/Chains – because gay life takes jewelry
• Cameras – the broken one too, as a prop, so people take you more seriously than they should
• CD’s – used to read cassettes (old, old, old, I tells ya)
• Cell-phone with charger – even though, out of range, minutes are so pricey as to be ruthlessly useless
• Checkbook – in case of massive ATM snafus
• Credit Card – in case of massive mis-approximation of funds snafu
• DVDs – in case of rain
• Flip Flops, and lethal weapon of choice, to use on anyone’s misstepping on the back of one
• Floss – the only items between teeth should be sweet sweet calories
• Frisbee – just in case after all of these years, you meet that kindred spirit
• Health Insurance Card – in case of broken ankles and teeth or swollen saliva glands
• Hoola Hoop – well, you never know
• Jeans – sometimes it rains
• Lotion – 30, 8, 4 and After
• Medication – any that relieves pain and anguish of allergies or hangovers
• Money – always good to mention again and to review repeatedly just in case you missed the atm card, checkbook and credit card above
• Mouthwash – after all of that flossing, cmon!
• Nail file – I think it was HB Lewis who said, “Next to family, toenail hygiene is most important.”
• Nose Hair Trimmer – and it was his wife, Miss Martha, who’d always add his trimmer as corollary
• Razors – that’s plural because others will forget theirs
• Shaving Cream – soap on sunburn is never a good idea
• Shirts, shoes and shorts – for service
• Shorts, Breakfast – as far as sleeping in them, we’re gonna have to go with the honor system here, but ya gotta have something seemly for the host’s breakfast nook
• Socks – yes, the Clinton cat has passed his life-saving course
• Sunglasses – it is very important to be other than yourself when on vacation and how better to achieve this goal than by refusing to make eye contact with anyone else
• Sweatshirt/sweater – in case the weather goddess hates you
• Toothbrush and Paste – sorry, that should read toothbrush and toothpaste, unless you’re craftsy
• Towel, Beach – must be new each year, no skimping, no exceptions, no kidding
• Underwear – no, really, it could rain
• Wallet – ingenious way to keep track of atm card, checkbook, credit card, and money, but then maybe they shouldn’t all be in one place either, hmmmm…..Traveller’s Checks?
• Watch – never!
• Worries - optional
• jinbaltimore

 

Go Jump In A Lake

...Or in my case, The Hudson River.

It's a little odd having something as majestic as the Hudson just a couple of minutes away from your door (my sister has a Hudson River view from her bedroom, so it really is a family affair, here). Mom and I went and had a little picnic in the local park, then retired to the small-ish riverfront beach for a quick dip.

And all for the low price of less than $5 parking (plus a little food for the picnic).

In the getting back to basics, it's nice to recall that the simple things - like lying in the sun - are basically free and can provide hours of enjoyment, for the whole family. That's probably why the best indications of America's multicolor and multi-culti melting pot are probably here as well: from the large gathering of an Indian organization (such lovely saris), to hugs Hispanic family gatherings, to the more nuclear families and local high school teens, the cross-sectional appeal was clear. And we all share some things in common - the massive hardware collections (rolling coolers parked in a small armada, industrial size food packages of hot dogs and chips and ketchup and chicken cutlets) to the rolling playpens (I saw at least two), we are a nation that doesn't just "go" to the beach - we assault it.

So we haven't fully learned the lessons of conservation or making do; economizing, after all, is probably more a matter of force than free choice. J and I face a similar prospect in about 6 weeks when we make our much loved trek to the ocean, a plan we still want to follow even if it mens seriously making do with less. Today it was just nice to soak up the sun, share some quiet conversation, and take a dip in the water. And I'm betting, old friend, that when I'm with you it will be all that, and more so.

Notes From A Vacation

As Nevermind noted in comments last night, my discussion of TV watching from my trip may seem "one sided and strange"... I suppose there's no point to mentioning that a blog is pretty much a one-sided affair (mine), but I agree, my tastes can be... strange.

I could go into the long, er, strange, history of how my Memorial Day trip came to be - there was a plan to travel to Salt Lake City which fell through over finances, and this was an alternative that fit the moment, and the planned companion - but that story takes too long and probably only matters to maybe 10 people (5 of whom don't read this blog, though I try to convince them, repeatedly).

In any case, the trip that was an odd combination of convenience, circumstance, and opportunity became an object lesson in understanding who I am and what I actually like... and don't. Like decorating programs. Herewith, with no determination to offend anyone, but a likelihood to offend or puzzle all, some notes for myself on what I like in a vacation:

• I don't like being stranded in the woods. That is, I really like to show up at places like the one I went with a car of my own and the opportunity to run to the store at my convenience, not others.
• I'd rather be at the ocean than at a lake, and at a beach rather than in the woods.
• I don't like the way "the woods" has become an extension of suburbia; this lakeside development amounted to a piece of gated suburbia for the second home set, giving "back to nature" a thoroughly commodified, managed air (the lake nearest us, as it turned out, had been drained and not refilled, which made yesterday's run to sunbathe a lost cause).
• I also don't love the way "the woods" has bcome an extension of a kind of suburbia where the most basic services are 30-40 minutes away.
• No more Wal-Marts. Ever.
• When you, as an individual, go on a trip with a couple, you are reminded, very quickly, that it's called "third wheel" for a reason.
• Apparently, though, dinner conversations about politics when everyone is interested are even fun with Republicans.
• I really must learn not to overpack.
• I need wifi; dialup will not do it, anymore.
• I am no longer a night person. Oh well.
• I agree one should leave a guest house much the way one found it... but there's clean, and then there's sterilized within an inch of its life.

I know, I know... who's ever going to want to invite Debbie Downer on another trip? A getaway is a getaway and one should be grateful to one's hosts. But I do think one should also know one's likes and dislikes enough to know when an offer may not be the right one. And so, though I feel like the girl who's unpacked her adjectives, I think I'm just chalking this one up to learning a little more about my own likes... and sticking up for them.

Morning McNuggets (Can I Even Say That?)

Comfort food for the beleaguered:

• Sure, you're gonna pick up the Times, see Nicholas Kristof, and grimace (I particularly love this graph: "Mrs. Clinton is more than 700,000 votes behind in the popular vote. With 10 states and territories still to vote, perhaps another six million votes could be cast if turnout is very high, by the count of Ben Smith at Politico.com." - which is so rife with the math problem, I could barely go on)... but try and follow it with the bemused, calmer take of my heroine Gail Collins, who offers this:
  • There isn’t a right or wrong to this argument — only strategy. Obama didn’t overexert himself to help find a way to let Michigan and Florida re-vote because it wasn’t to his advantage. And while ending the negativity would be nice, the Obamaites would mainly like to call a halt because they don’t want to risk something weird and undesirable happening.
• Meanwhile, the Times also reminds us that Deval Patrick is fizzling as Governor of Massachusetts, and asks him why, and he blames... Clinton supporters (well, okay, the Speaker of the State Assembly... a Clinton supporter)
• Or, check out Jerome Armstrong at My DD, who gives the grim assessment the Obama folks don't want to hear: that the Wright controversy, poorly handled, has hurt Obama's chances in the general election.
• And, for the moment, check out this discussion over at Ezra Klein, which has been surprisingly muted on the ultimate value of Harry Reid's astonishing comments from yesterday.
• You could of course be like RedStar (sunning herself at winter baseball in Florida), or Tom Watson (exploring the Jersey shore in winter), and simply take a break from it all. Seriously, you might need a nap, too, or you'll be seeing things.
• ... things like Ann Coulter actually making sense - and being mildly amusing - on the topic of Elliott Spitzer.
• Speaking of Ann... before we drift too far on the wave of self congratulatory praise the white liberal men gave themselves for Obama's speech, they - and you - might take note of the blowback from Ann, Jonah Goldberg and Bill Kristol... and remember what we're up against when we want to have the Conversation about Race.
• And in the "aw, shucks" file of the Hollywood Minute... JC Chasez relieves the minds of Gossip Girl (girl) fans everywhere. I mean it's got to be totally not true if he denies it. Right? ;)

What The Balto Saw

On my second blogiversary of 9/11, I want to re-post J in Baltimore's memories of 9/11. J is sitting next to me as I post this, as we spend the long weekend at the beach (more below today's featured post). The rest of the italicized introduction is what I wrote least year.

I prefer not to work on 9/11 - I think in our rush to "get back to normal," we've left the need to grieve, and remember, behind.

Since this is my first 9/11 anniversary with a blog (I spent last year's Labor Day debating whether starting with 9/11 postings was healthy), I want to give today over to remembering that day - first someone else's, then my own.

Although you know him as J in Baltimore, to me, he goes by many names.  I'm only slightly kidding. There's something fateful about the way the story of my 9/11 and his intertwine quite so much, and I am honored to present my best friend's recollections to you. My life's work, really, is convincing J to write more - he's better at it than I am, more gifted, more direct. My other task is to promote his work.  My own recollections will follow shortly.

I’d tried to vote in the primary election that morning.  I can’t remember if it was mayoral or something else.  They couldn’t find my name at the polling place even though I’d received the little yellow card in the mail with that address on it.   I was steamed; I went straight to work and up to my cubicle and called the election board to complain, ending my cranky voice-mail message with, “What is this, Florida!?!”

It was probably around 7:30 now, and I went back downstairs and outside for my morning glazed donut, diet soda (never really been a hot caffeine person), and cigarette breakfast (ahh, how I miss them still) near the water at the South Street Seaport.  In the three months since I’d started at Prudential, it was always calming for me to start the mornings this way, getting to see the sun gleam on the water, the sightseeing boaters preparing for their day, and the seafood houses already in the middle of theirs.

It was probably around 8:00 that I went up to officially start my work day, checking emails and voicemails, taking care of  a few things that had come over the department fax late from the night before.  It was a while later that a manager, John, another early starter, came out of his office and said, “Come see this.  The World Trade Center is on fire.” 

Let Love Be Your Energy

I have to admit, I don't love LA.

And yet... and yet. I do have to admit that the whole Southern California easygoing thing is getting to me. Each day dawns sunny and warm and beautiful, and that peaceful, easy feeling is hard to deny.

In some ways, I've always been at odds with my East Coast upbringing; I'm not really able to be quite as hard and tough as every situation calls for.  In many ways, I made a lousy New Yorker.  Sure, after thirteen years, I toughened up, but at heart I remain a bit squishy, a little sensitive (okay, maybe a lot sensitive).

The meeting I am at is tough.  Things can get contentious. People argue passionately for the things they believe in. And yet, here I sit, relaxed and calm and pretty content.  LA is getting to me.  All I can think is, let love rule.

If you're willing to change the world, let love be your energy. That's what I think. Or maybe it's just that I'm going native. :)