Pride (In the Name of Love)

Minneapolis had the good fortune to have Pride scheduled for this past weekend. And Friday’s Supreme Court ruling just helped kick the celebration into high gear.

Even I got into the spirit this year!

On Friday I went to a Pride BBQ and had a fun time getting sloshed and celebrating marriage equality. 

Saturday I went to the Eagle and met up with quite a few people that I know. And I made out with a handsome, bearded guy under the beer tent during a brief evening storm. 

Then Sunday was drinking killer punch while watching the parade. And then hitting the Saloon afterward. 

A good time was had by all. 

   

  

A guy brought this so we could all be Rebecca Ann Lehman!

        

Has, I got drunk enough to take my shirt off. 

   

The beard was fabulous!

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Grandchildren. 

My parents and I don’t really discuss my “gayness” very much. It comes up in random comments every so often, but generally the subject is politely avoided. I do know that they want me to find a “special someone”, but they only bring that up every six months or so when they lament the fact that I’m always alone. 

The only other subject they seem to lament with more frequency is that they will never be grandparents.  And this is the one where they don’t even attempt to hide their disappointment in the fact I’m gay.

And that I hate children. 

  

Now “hate” is a strong word.  So for the sake of argument, let’s just say that I rather dislike uterus turds and choose not to be around them.

Much to my parent’s dismay. 

While my dad (and his girlfriend) were visiting, my dad brought up in casual conversation that an ex-step-nephew (it’s complicated) and his wife are expecting a child in August and my dad has agreed to help with baby watching duties like one day a week once she goes back to work.

He then started talking about all of the things he’ll have to buy in order to help watch the thing.  All this discussion was prompted when he was taken aback by the size a woman’s child kennel/carrier at this restaurant where we were eating. 

Dad:  that looks like a nice, but heavy carrier

Cb:  what?  Are you planning on buying them car seats and a grayco stroller and shit?

Dad:  not for them… For me

Cb:  why do YOU need to buy all this crap to watch a kid one day a week?? Can’t you just put a blankie in a cardboard box?

Dad:  this is my one and only chance to act as a grandfather and influence a child so I want to go all out

And there you have it.

Then dad proceeded to explain to his GF that I hate children and would never be providing any fruit from my loins for him to fawn over.  All because I was too self-focused (read: selfish).

“Damn skippy,” I told them. “All children are is a big drain on resources. They’re basically little Remoras feeding on time and money.”

Yes, I know that this isn’t really a gay issue, because gays are having kids or adopting them all over the place. But it gets lumped in with my being gay, and one of the ways it makes me a disappointing son. 

Ah, the perils of being an only child…..

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Pride Concert — achieved

 

This past Friday and Saturday evenings were the final choral concerts of the season for the Twin Cities Gay Men’s Chorus. And the concerts went very well.  No fuck-ups and many, many wonderful moments. 

Not that my dad and his girlfriend seemed to notice. 

As luck would have it, our concerts coincided with Father’s Day Weekend. And he kept asking to see another concert, so I got tickets for both he and his new girlfriend. 

They also stayed at my place, which necessitated a lot of cleaning. 

So dad and the GF came up on Saturday and I took them to a late lunch. And then I drove them to the concert (early, as I had to be there for warmup).

The concert had group numbers, solo acts, a female lounge singer Emcee, dancing, drag, and fun!

   

     

And while dad and the GF said they enjoyed the show and thanked me for the tickets, they didn’t go much beyond that. Which makes me think that they didn’t really enjoy it that much.

I tried to draw them out a bit with “Did you especially like any number?” And “Did you enjoy the arrangement of Summertime?” (My dad’s favorite song). “We have some good soloists, don’t we?”  But I didn’t get much of a response so I just dropped it. 

Maybe they were tired— it was a lot of music, what with the pre-show cabaret acts and everything. Maybe it was too gay, what with the drag and big heels and all. Or maybe they genuinely didn’t like the show. But still I thought there would be some polite fake interest shown at the very least. 

Alas, no. 

And there you have it, folks. Yet another example of the “seeking approval” thing that seems to be a running theme throughout our gay lives.

When really the only approval I should be seeking is my own. 

And they were darn good shows. 

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Tech Rehearsal

  

I’m gonna be pop-uU-lar??

Concert tech rehearsal last night. We have clumps of multi-height platforms, cabaret acts, an Emcee, dancing, alacrity and effulgence!

And high heels. 

Lots of high heels. 

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Amazon Wish List…

I am adding all of these to my Amazon Wish List. My birthday’s in August, so y’all have time.

   

               

Especially numbers 2 and 3. Please. 

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Pride Time

Welp, it’s that time of year. Time when all the homos don their gay apparel (or lack thereof) and celebrate their Pride with parades and concerts and sexapaloozas.

As such, this week I am inundated with rehearsals for the Twin Cities gay men’s chorus big gay pride concert.  Which is this weekend (officially a week before Pride weekend and the kickoff to all the festivities).

Our show is entitled “Popular!  A Broadway Cabaret” and it’s pretty much exactly how it sounds. The stage will be broken up a bit with platforms and performance areas, and there will be cabaret tables up near the stage, etc. we also have a pre-show of soloists doing cabaret numbers before the show ever starts. 

So that’s different at least.

Overall, I like the music much better than the Beatles repertoire. At least there are some complex harmonies and good arrangements in this concert. I’m particularly fond of “Oh What a Beautiful Morning”, “Being Alive”, “Summertime”, and “Not My Father’s Son”.  They are all really well arranged for men’s voices.

But I’m mostly just bored with the music. 

I think I have officially reached my burnout threshold. I’m finishing up with the chorus as I am also doing outdoor band concerts. The rehearsals and gigs are really fucking with my free time and summer activities, so I’m getting grumpy. 

Starting tonight, I will be singing for the next 5 evenings straight. Plus my dad and his new girlfriend are coming for a visit and to see the concert so, there’s a bit of added stress. 

Sunday cannot get here soon enough. 

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Rejection

This was one of those weekends when the amount and type of physical rejection I received just seemed to be disproportionately large. And therefore a bit disheartening. 

I decided That I needed to get out and be social– so to that end I went to a bar for a “Bearracuda” event.  (Basically it’s a gay bear dance party).  The music was good (and too loud) and there were plenty o’ menz about. 

I actually had one rather handsome bearish guy flirt with me, which I rather enjoyed. He also danced with me and ground on me a bit (which I also liked).

What I didn’t enjoy was the fact that he proceeded to get more and more drunk– to the point of slurring and stumbling. He also would be dancing with me and then just leave. Disappear to “go find friends” or whatever. 

Yeah. I decided to chalk this up to “he’s just not that into you. And an alcoholic.”

I was also online a fair amount this weekend as I was feeling a bit lonesome. (Never a good idea). I was looking for some “company” and for all the wrong reasons. 

While I saw many fetching gentlemen online, 95% of the messages I sent out were met with stony silence. And the occasional response that I did get back was something like “Thanks.”

One word responses = meh, I’m not that into you but I’ll at least try to be polite.

When I’m online (scruff, Grindr, growlr, a4a, etc) I find that I always have to be the messager. I’m very VERY rarely the messagee. And I don’t get much of a response.  Mostly I’m ignored, sometimes I get a polite dismissal, and occasionally I’m solicited for money. 

And then there are the outright rude messages. 

On Saturday, I was actually messaged first by a guy on Grindr. Let me start by saying that he did not have a profile photo at all, and he was younger and African American. 

This is what he wrote:

Him:  damn, you are one ugly motherfucker

Me:  Ha. Well, I know this isn’t true, and you just proved to me that you are an ugly human on the inside. 

Him:  naw, you seriously ugly

Me:  at least I have a pic visible and I’m not hiding what I look like

Him:  you are too old to be on here, grandpa

Me:  and you’re too black to be on here

(Okay, I’m not proud of that comment , but I was going for brutal)

Him:  that’s not what yo momma said when I was choking her with it

Me:  a lowbrow mom joke?  Seriously?  Another failure from our educational system. Enjoy prostitution or minimum wage. 

And then he blocked me.

Naturally my rational mind knows his comments aren’t true and just mean-spirited. But when they come unsolicited, they tend to impact me differently. I mean, why?  What prompted this out of the blue comment?

And then when you add in the number of ignores or “sorry, I fell asleeps” or “thanks, but not interesteds”– it starts to take a self-esteem toll. 

Which isn’t helped much by all the people in relationships saying “oh, I’m sure you’ll meet someone.”  Or worse “Why are you single??”

The $64,000 question. If only I could answer….

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Li’l B*Hole Comix Friday!

Like a tornada, Gurl! Y’all need a blessin’!

And so, I give to you– the comix.

   

               

I produce these out of a labor of love. A love for hating that stupid, fucking comic that is still (inexplicably) around. 

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Movie Review: Spy

One sentence review?  It’s definitely a fun movie, and much more James Bond than Get Smart.

  

Given the trailers and Melissa McCarthey, I was expecting “Tammy the Spy”.  You know, bumbling yet humorous in an insipid sort of way. I was also expecting arch villains and suave male spies. 

And mostly I was correct. Only Melissa’s character isn’t bumbling at all. She’s smart and has skills– she just starts off mousey and lacking confidence. Then naturally (thanks Hollywood) comes out of her shell to become a brilliant, yet non-traditional Bond type agent. 

Jason Statham is comical as the (anti-Statham casting) bumbling one. He is cocky yet irretrievably stupid. And a pathological liar.  And his rants and interaction with Melissa are hilarious. 

Jude is the suave one and he is very good at it. 

And the rest of the supporting characters are all very good (especially Rose Byrne).  Rose is every foreign Bond villainess, cold and damaged by daddy issues– yet mixed with a touch of ineptitude.  

The movie really IS an homage to Bond films, only with a heavy, mom-type as the protagonist. Which oddly works. 

While the movie starts with action and a decent Bond-plot (nuke device for sale), it is only after Melissa’s character adopts a crass, field operative persona that the movie really takes off.  I mean, who doesn’t love it when Ms McCarthey gets all potty mouthed and tough (like in that Heat movie).

I’m gonna have to watch it again to pick up on a lot of the lines I missed because I was laughing. 

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The Boy At The Gym (Update 2)

He’s straight.  STRAIGHT!!

I did NOT see that coming.  And my gaydar is wicked sensitive!

We were having a lovely chat about weight loss and beer and football and the Rolling Stones and then he said it. 

“I was out with my girlfriend and….”

Honestly, I don’t know what he said after that because my mind shut down and I stopped listening. 

Well damn. 

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