NYCweboy

Everytime I Breathe, Everytime I Try To Leave

So here I sit in Towson, Maryland, typing away at another Starbucks.  I had hoped to mention traveling - or at least to have done a joint post with the J in town... but that didn't happen. Sorry for the silence.  As Red notes, all the important news happened in the sports world, anyway.

Except, maybe, for the loss of Cyd Charisse.

In any case, as Red noted overnight, it's a moment of feeling a bit beaten down. J and I had a long conversation - all evening, really - about coming to grips with Obama. I try to come up with ways to get comfortable myself... and nothing seems to work. If it's not the tired rhetoric of his Father's Day speech, it's the dull, conventional nature of his advisement choices (I don't necessarily have the issues others do about his economics team... but his foreign policy team is dull dull dull).

Perhaps more instructive was the man who struck up a conversation with me waiting for the Light Rail to bring me to J. He's a painter by profession, 32 years, and work's been hard to find. First day he'd worked in 3 weeks, he told me. When I said "Vacation?" he laughed bitterly and said, "if only."

GO CELTS!!!!

Yes, they really just had Donny Walberg of New Kids on the Block on the local ABC affiliate "hangin' tough" and reveling in the Celtics victory tonight.

Go Celtics!!

That is all.

:) :)

- Redstar

Spring in my step at Mile 22

Readers know the love affair between NYC Weboy and Boston ended last year.  Fortunately, his relationship with this Masshole sophisticate (I know, that's an oxymoron) endures.  But the city and I are still at a loss without him.

Nonetheless, we soldier on, rejuvenated by the springtime weather - 60+ degree days, buds on the trees, and sun bring packed outdoor cafes, cap sleeves and sandals, and runners everywhere.

Sometimes I wonder if this is the runningest city in the U.S.  Though the sidewalks, Charles River paths, and Emerald Necklace routes are packed this time of year, runners are ubiquitous year-round in Boston.  In my neighborhood of Brighton, with the nearby Chestnut Hill Reservoir the signature asset in hilly greenspace, runners are rarely out of sight, at most hours of the day and evening.

Today, of course, is the ultimate in our city's running glory - it's Marathon day.  This Monday is quintessential Boston: a city holiday - Patriot's Day, celebrating the beginning of the Revolutionary War; the first day of the April break for public schools; the Red Sox at home in a daytime matchup; and the Marathon.  NYC Weboy went out this morning to pick up some breakfast, and came back to report that the busiest store at 9:30 am in Cleveland Circle was Reservoir Liquors.  The Improper Bostonian reports that if you're not in your designated Marathon spot by 10:30 a.m. with a drink in your hand, you're doomed to lines and crowds for the rest of the day.

Marathon Day always renews my love for my neighborhood, as runners pass my apartment building and cross mile 22 in the 26.2 race.

Cheering begins midday and doesn't cease for most of the day. Right now co-eds are grilling across the street from me on the property of a historic home in the neighborhood, someone's music is wafting through my windows, and I'm off to meet friends at Brookline's Publick House after running into them on the sunny streets outside just now.  Nearby, the university sailboats are out en masse on the Charles, as they've been since last week.

It's springtime in Boston, and I'm happy to be home again in my hometown.

-Redstar

...Or, We Could Also Worry About Those Winged Pterodactyls On Skull Island, I Suppose...

You may have noticed I'm taking it a bit easy today; the political weekend wore me out a bit (not mention what felt like a long spate of working at the 'bucks). I'm going to work on a few lighter things, and leave the heavy politicking for later.

In the meantime, if you're dying for a fix:

• The Obama thing: Oh I don't know... try here or here or here or here or here or here... It seems to me we're talking this thing to ever-lovin' death. Since I already said my peace, I have little to add - except this: I don't think "the media" is the problem here, really I don't. Obama said something that was a mistake, and he's being, fairly I think, taken to task for a set of assumptions that deserve a challenge; however, I think the problem is that "the problem with what Obama said" is poorly defined, and too much of it has become "Easy Reader Elitism" that isn't the real issue here.
• As Ana Marie Cox says, yes, I read that Chris Matthews thing.  And so should you.
• Torch Song Trilogy: Count me among those who didn't realize that the Olympic Torch protests around China's poor Human Rights record (especially in relation to Tibet) would make such a splash. Then there's the whole Leni Riefenstahl-Berlin-1936 thing about the Torch Relay generally... and hey, you've got a weeks' worth of discomfort right there.
• Save The Robots: Apparently, the geek love affair with talking about the robot menace just will not go away. I already played, too. This is serious stuff people. Don't say you weren't warned. :)

Inside Baseball

A few years ago, a rabid football fan roommate strategically enrolled me in a fantasy football league so that I would be amenable to the endless sports coverage.  I'm competitive by nature, and earned a reputation in our league as a tough "coach," benching players pretty quickly if they didn't perform well, making trades, and picking up different guys off the waiver list with some regularity.  Yet I rarely watched football.  There is so much media coverage, and so much statistical information available, that I mainly relied on some modest number crunching each week to set my lineup.  (I was eventually eliminated in the finals.)

My league, unlike most, was almost half women.  Yet sports, including fantasy sports, is generally the province of men.  As with politics.  Last week in the discussion on my campus re: the Presidential election, I was one of only two women in the room who spoke during the 90 minute event, and the only one who spoke repeatedly, and at length.  This gender gap is news to no one, but only recently has the similarities between endless sports coverage and political quarterbacking become so clear to me.

Fantasy Nomination Camp

So there I was , scanning the New York Magazine website, reading this fascinating article on AIDS Doctors who seem to have a "survivor's guilt" problem leading to drug abuse and other problems (I don't know the man in the article, but I do know a few other examples, anecdotally)... and reading this illuminating piece on the disaster that is The New York Knicks... until I came upon this: Lawrence O'Donnell on a fantasy notion of how the Democratic National Convention might look if Obama and Clinton have to take the fight to the floor.

I have to say reading it was disconcerting.  You can argue particulars of O'Donnell's scenario - I tend to disagree with his finale, because I think both parties have a certain ruthlessness, not just one... but two things nag at me - one is that O'Donnell offers a clear view of the deliberate self interest of certain parties (Wesley Clark and Al Gore, most obviously) that can't be argued away; and the other is the dark, cynical, pessimistic nature of the whole thing... which again, I think shouldn't be ignored.

That said, as I was writing this, it suddenly occurred to me... where is John Edwards in this scenario?  Naughty, Larry. Very naughty. ;)

Right By Your Side

Since my, um, neighbor, at the gym also noted it, too, I guess it's worth commenting on: Doncha hate when you finish your workout and go back to a near empty locker room... only to discover the only other guy in it is the locker right next to yours?

I mean, we laughed and all... but what is this? You go in, the place looks deserted, you pick a spot - no locks on either side - and you may have even accidentally opened it on some fool who goes lockless (which, frankly, strikes me as more embarrassing than going commando - I mean, dude, we're not thieves anymore, but Christ, did I want to see your socks?), and you change and go to work out, you come back... and bam! There he is.

And I hate to be one to admit it, but part of this is being gay at predominately straight gyms, because you want to get in and out without cruising some poor guy who, you know, is sensitive (and thanks to the gym, hot looking). In New York, I blame New York Sports Clubs, which has become the ubiquitous gym of choice for people who want a good gym without paying too much (otherwise it's NYAC or Reebok... or Crunch if you're all downtown and hip about it), so it's got Chelsea and the Upper East Side... and everything in between. And it's also the inheritor, for better and worse, of that ethos from the first gym craze of the eighties and nineties, when the synonym for Bally's was "Meat Market" (at my first Bally's, I had women hitting on me.  I swear). Now it's pansexual cruising, and everyone's a little wary... and we just want a locker of our own, away from the others... is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes. And I thought I was the only one.  And now that I know that we're a group, I think we need a word for it.  Any suggestions?

No Indication, Though, Who Likes Apple Pie

This year's run-up to the Super Bowl has seemed especially silly. I think it's partly geography that accounts for this - rarely does the Notheast Corridor account for both side of the match-up, and like the World Series and Playoffs when it's Red Sox vs. Yankees, there's a glut of media interest well beyond anyone's actual interest.

How else to explain the 4 days of wall-to-wall coverage Tom Brady got after leading the Patriots to vistory over San Diego, when he came ot New York for a weekend break with his new girlfriend?  Okay, so his girlfriend is Supermodel Gisele Bundchen, and he was on the opposition's territory, but the attention was just... weird.

It's only gotten weirder as New York outlets focus their loving eyes on Eli Manning and find... a wholesome superstar, a Mama's boy who married his high school sweetheart.  It's so sweet, it could give you diabetes.

Look, if I had to pick a Super Bowl winner based on who I'd like for a next door neighbor, I'd probably pick Manning (though the sleek high rise apartment that I'd like to live in would probably be next to Brady's f**kpad), too, but that's not how it works.  And the reality is that the 18-0 Patriots will probably win because that's what they've been doing all season, including against the Giants.  Twice.

(And this post is dedicated most to my friend Chrystal, who taught me to be a Pats fan, which made my life in Boston just a bit easier.  But boy is it not helping me get to know my new co-workers.) :)

The Downside Of Being Six Million Dollar Men...

It's a little rare for sports to make it onto the news pages, not like they have the past few days with the release of George Mitchell's report on steroid use in Major League Baseball.  It's time like these that I'm grateful for the exposure I've had to sports lovin' gay men, who taught me that we don't have to treat Arts & Leisure (or the Wedding Section) as our sports pages; we can read the real thing.

The thing to keep in mind about the Mitchell report is that it really contained few surprises - most of the people named were expected (Barry Bonds), known (Jose Canseco), or suspected (Roger Clemens). Even semi-surprises like Andy Pettitte weren't really that surprising. Even the implications of the report - that many people knew, that team owners turned a blind eye, that this throws a good ten years worth of record-holders and award winners (something like 8 of 10 Cy Young award winners for pitching in the last 10 years are people named in the report, and when you add Canseco's top performance years in the eighties, it stretches a ways back, too) into question - these are all things that have been hanging over the sport for a while.

What Mitchell's report does - aside from bringing the issue of steroid use in professional sports to greater prominence - is remind us of the weird role baseball plays in our culture, and the "better sporting through chemistry" aspect of these things that we don't really like to face.

Before The Parade Passes By

First, an apology to the people who come here -I know you're out there - looking for serious thoughts.  I realize I've been on something of a shallow kick lately (or at least, a not especially deep one) and I regret not having deep political and controversial things to say... if only because they increase readership, I think.

Second, for the possibly larger number of you who know me well and/or personally, this has not been a good day and not necessarily a good week, either.  And it's hard to write at all, much less deep thinking stuff, when I feel like I'm in major upheaval.

All of which may explain why I'm going to tell you about today at work.