Tag Archives: Bears

Chances Are

Saturday night at Maxwells I see Bob Bert waiting for a bus to headed to Manhattan. I’ve been spending a lot more time at Maxwell’s lately, more than I have in quite a while. Perhaps it is the circle of life which if taken literally means I am about to die. I certainly hope not and the song Circle of Life is not one of Elton John’s songs that I like. But here it is, I’m inside watching Bob Bert wait for a bus outside. He must have caught the bus when I looked askance since he wasn’t there anymore when I looked again.

It was an interesting night at Maxwell’s. Someone was having a birthday gathering with about 75 of their closest friends. It was getting crowded that tables were moved into the basement to make room for the people who were standing around and drinking instead of sitting down and eating. I’m glad I was able to help out and if things go smoothly (and I don’t see why they wouldn’t) I will be helping out more and more.

Standing in the restaurant and seating people if they wanted to have some dinner. I found that standing and holding menus shows that I am working there and if I greet people without menus the people think I’m some strange geezer at the door.

And geezer at the door was a position I did hold at Maxwell’s for a few years, usually on Thursday nights though whatever night was needed I was more or less, there. I did find myself being a relic of sorts when the staff heard that I used to work there back in the day, nights when Nirvana played on a Thursday night, or Smashing Pumpkins on the same bill with Blood Oranges. Crazy lineups.

I didn’t care much for those bands then, thought Nirvana did get in my good graces. I preferred the Minutemen playing to those Sub Pop bands. Never really got into the Seattle sounds though my roommate at the time, Kevin loved all that stuff like Tad and Mudhoney. For me, the guys were gross and the music sounded like sludge. Half the staff seemed to like the Sub Pop bands and the other half thought the same as me.

I also saw something that sort of made sense the other night at Maxwell’s. At one of the tables sat a group of four bears, you know the hirsute bearded gay guys. One of them was rather flirty with me which I thought was a compliment. A few feet away stood a few patrons, hirsute bearded straight guys. I figured it out that once again, straight men taking their cues from gay men, this time bear culture which may have fed the bearded Fleet Foxes type of music these days. Guys that look like their grandfathers were in the Band.

I found that amusing. Also amusing is the fact that according to Rolling Stone magazine, Maxwell’s is the number 3 rock and roll club in the United States. With publicity like that chances are that I will be needed to help out there more often. And access to free shows as well is nice.





I Miss You- Blink 182

Yesterday was such a nice day. Nice enough that I don’t feel like writing today, but here I am writing again. If Truman Capote were around and reading blogs he might have said ‘That’s not writing, that’s typing’. That is what Truman supposedly said about Jack Kerouac. I can’t fill Kerouac shoes, he was a 10.5 and I am a 12. It would be painful and awkward and I would be in dire need of an orthopedic shoe. I just returned from busking again, not too busy a day though my guitar playing has improved somewhat. I hadn’t busked since last Thursday.

Like I wrote, yesterday was nice, really a top day. Pleasant weather, nary a cloud in the sky. I did some filing, my nails have gotten back to where they should be. I strolled the waterfront promenade once again, enjoying a cigar. I found a spot and sat and read Lucking Out by James Wolcott. I’m enjoying reading about his exploits with Pauline Kael, hanging out at CBGB’s and a fixation on porn. When I finished reading yesterday, AIDS was beginning to make its appearance. The grim reaper and it’s scythe taking out a generation of gay men and soon to spread to non-gay men.

I remember hearing about GRID- Gay Related Immune Deficiency, or the gay cancer as it was first known. It was the beginning of the paranoia of the pandemic and I was still deep in the closet, living the two lives that I led back in the day. One of the symptoms was a loss of appetite, a wasting away. I told someone that in the future, overweight men will be the desirable set following the death of the clones. It didn’t take into consideration that there would be two sets, the gym bunnies constantly fixated on chiseled abs and toned bodies and the other group being the bears, the hirsute, stocky men.

Having never set foot in a gym I lean towards the bear contingent though I consider myself to be a wolf, and a lone wolf at that. When smoking was permissible in Central Park, when I would have the time to check out the disco skate circle I would be either opposite the bears on Bear Hill or above the bears at the top of the hill enjoying a cigar and enjoying the tunes. Since the smoking ban I haven’t been in Central Park. In fact since I was dismissed from the cigar shack I haven’t gone north of 47th Street.

While sitting and reading I got a phone call from Billie in DC. It had been a while since we last spoke and we kept missing each other on various phone calls. He’s doing well, working and in good health thanks to the government of Washington DC. I told him the story about my dismissal, how the guy who claimed to have no ego was pissed off and his ego bruised by what I wrote exactly. Billie was great and laughed several times at my tale. He knew I was unhappy there and claimed it was god’s doing that got me out of there.

He mentioned that he was thinking about taking a Bolt Bus from Washington DC and having a day trip to Manhattan. That would be great and since I have the time it seems likely that it would happen. It would be easier for Billie to come up here than for me to get to DC since in DC we would need a car to get around where in Manhattan no car would be needed. Billie’s visit is something to look forward to and hopefully we will get together soon enough.

I walked around Hoboken afterwards, talking on the phone with Lois and running into my friend Roger with his wife Dina and their 3 month old son Kennedy. What a happy chubby baby. Dina looked great as did Roger. It was fun catching up with Roger for a while and I walked them back to their car before heading home. Bill was home when I came home, so happy to see me. He was in better spirits than he was earlier. He had gone to Philadelphia on Saturday and while there his wallet was stolen, pickpocketed.

He had enough to get to Manhattan but had to borrow some cash from the producer of the play he is working on. We watched the closing of the Olympics, annoyed with Bob Costas and Ryan Seacrest endlessly talking over whatever as going on. We surmised it was because Americans needed to have things spelt out for them, instead of just showing the images without comment. They cut out Ray Davies singing Waterloo Sunset, and also Muse while postponing the Who, who were mediocre. And still no Elton. What was that about?

And I am DJ’ing from home again at the local tavern right now…


The Nick Colas haircut!

Jimmy Roselli

05 All Night Long

How Will the Wolf Survive?

Well it’s another lazy Saturday. I’d like to apologize for the posting fiasco last night. Word Press is set 4 hours ahead to Greenwich Mean Time or in the middle of the ocean, I don’t know. Thanks to my sister Annemarie for asking me what happened to last night’s entry.

I was surprised that Harpy or bhikku didn’t say anything. Then again, I think they might have lives that are not centered around this drivel passing as a blog, this mutton disguised as lamb. There I said it! Drivel! Mutton! I don’t really think of it as such.

It’s a column.

It’s a diary.

It’s a letter.

It’s a discipline.

It’s an exercise.

It’s a blog.

Last night my sister in law mentioned that I had to get home so I could write. Not that she reads this. I doubt it, she’s not that involved with computers and proudly so. She certainly doesn’t like Facebook.

Bill and I watched Bill Maher last night which was pretty good. Mos Def and Salman Rushdie were the panel and Christopher Hitchens was the special guest. Mos Def was hilarious. He sounded a lot like Pedro.

Then it was off to bed. I woke up a little before 9:00. Bill was busy doing something as I shuffled though into the shower. Went out and got a few items and that was basically it. I went to the library and dropped off the Freaks and Geeks DVD set that I had out. Didn’t watch all the discs as I had my fill of the early 1980’s.

I tried watching What Just Happened, directed by Barry Levenson and starring Robert De Niro and Catherine Keener with Bruce Willis and John Turturro. Midway through watching it my brother Frank called. Had a long talk with him about yesterday and music. He mentioned a few days ago that talking to me was therapeutic for him.

We’re alike in a few ways, but unlike him I will talk to him even if I’m watching a TV show or a DVD. He tends to get very up tight if you call him during on of his shows and will let you know. The flow of the movie was disrupted and I couldn’t get back into it.

I did go almost all the way back to the beginning though. Bill was headed out the door since he had watched most of it while I was on the phone with Frank. Then as I get back into the movie, Bill calls. He was on the slowest bus heading into the city and proceeded to tell me all about it.

I guess What Just Happened is an apt title for the movie since I kept asking myself that exact same phrase before I eventually gave up and put the DVD back into the Netflix envelope. That got me out of the house.

I headed to the post office and dropped it off and then strolled around Hoboken on a partly sunny day, enjoying a Padron. There must have been a baby boom since there are more strollers around and they tend to travel in packs.

Last night my niece Corinne told me I was the coolest gay man that she knew. Not that she knows that many. She mentioned one friend of hers which by the way she imitated him, was a bit swish.

That got me remembering how years ago, in the 1980’s in the midst of the AIDS holocaust, I had a feeling that heavy set, overweight men would suddenly be desirous. I thought that since one of the symptoms of HIV/AIDS was a sudden weight loss, emaciated bodies.

That was something to look out for then. Still is I guess though I couldn’t tell you since when I happen to go to a gay bar I become the invisible man. Neither customers nor bartenders see me, and I rarely go out to gay bars, or bars in general.

Anyway, as a way of showing that they were healthy, relatively speaking, that beer belly would somehow become attractive. This might have given cause to the rise of the Bears. Bears in gay culture, are heavy set, hirsute, overweight men.

At the other end of that spectrum are the Twinks, who are younger and generally hairless and extremely body conscious men. There are more breakdowns in each set but I think you get the idea.

Corinne’s friend would be a Twink and I guess I would lean more towards Bears. I tried to identify as such, but Juan strongly disagreed a few years ago. I guess he might be a Bear aficionado. I suppose I would be a Wolf then.

More Wolf than Bear, that’s me.