Tag Archives: Joe My God

Keep on Moving

Well so far it’s been a sad week for television and I’m not even talking about the reporting on the oil spill which continues to this day. Drill? What the fuck? It’s nothing but bad news on that front anyhow.

I wrote about The Pacific the other day, which was mainly about John Basilone and his last days on this plane of existence.

SPOILER ALERT! Last night’s sad thing was Lost. Yes, Lost. 3 characters from the beginning of the show bit the dust. Redemption, reunification and ultimately death.

2 episodes left in the series and Sayid and the Kwons are now gone. Sayid has been a shell of himself the past few weeks and the Kwons have been searching for each other through time and space.

Sayid came out of his zombie persona and stepped up to save the lives of the group. Sun and Jin were reunited last week and this week they died together. Very sad.

And Jack will be Jacob and Locke or rather Fake Locke will be the Smoke Monster, the Man in Black. At least that’s how I see it.
END OF SPOILER This has been a test of the Spoiler Blogger Network.

I get a daily email from Popdose, which covers some aspects of Pop Culture that I enjoy. Yesterday’s email had a review of Sports Night which was an Aaron Sorkin show on ABC about an ESPN type channel and the two anchors on it.

One of the anchors was Peter Krause, Nate from Six Feet Under, the other anchor was Josh Charles who’s been on a few things. Last night after watching Lost and instead of watching V I usually watch Parenthood.

But last night I decided to watch the Good Wife. I like Julianna Marguiles and Bill was on his way home and I know he likes Chris Noth. Funnily enough the show also has Josh Charles playing a recurring character.

I just thought it was weird after reading the Sports Night DVD review and opting not to watch one of the former actors on the show, changing the channel to see the other former actor from the show. Maybe it’s just me. Probably is.

And also Parenthood has Lauren Graham and The Good Wife has Matt Czuchry who played Rory’s boyfriend Logan.

Lincoln had a secretary named Kennedy and Kennedy had a secretary named Lincoln.

Today I was in Manhattan, saw Bill for a few and decided to sit in Bryant Park, read the New Yorker and enjoy a cigar.

As I sat there, a guy walks up to me and starts talking. His story was about how he’s been out of work for 6 months. He was angling for something.

I had to stop him right then and there, telling him that I’ve been out of work for 10 months, and with that he walked away with a blessing from his god. They always throw that in as a guilt trip.

Lot’s of people on the streets asking for change and when I tell them I can’t help them, I sometimes get a ‘god bless you’. Does that work? Are people guilt tripped into giving money because some god is being asked to bless them?

This Saturday Bill and I may or may not be a part of Pride Magazine’s article on interracial gay couples. It was actually one of the reasons why Bill and I got civil unioned. I learned about the whole thing from Joe Jervis of JoeMyGod.

Now we are just waiting to hear from Joe about the Saturday thing. But some guys on Joe’s Facebook page are complaining that it seems like these interracial couples are being in the spotlight and it’s unfair.

I almost posted the following on Joe’s page but decided to only post the first sentence.

I’ve always felt left out of most gay things so to be possibly included with my partner with regards to interracial relationships is a thrill.

Some of this does sound a bit like when straight people complain about gay pride parades, saying ‘when will straight people have a pride parade’, not realizing that every fucking day is a straight pride parade day.

It’s for an article in a monthly magazine. The other 11 months can be dedicated to non interracial relationships.

That’s about it for me on this end.

The Hoboken bibliothèque called and my reservation of Black Dynamite has finally come in. I asked for it a month or so ago but BCCLS sent me messages that it was too new to be sent out.

Now I have the Hoboken copy.
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jamesbaldwin1

Dear Prudence

The day after St. Patrick’s day. No hangover here. All is calm, all is bright. Another beautiful day today, enough so that I headed into the city and looked into getting some new eyeglasses.

Not that my eyes are getting bad, it’s just that the lenses have some light scratches in the which can be annoying. I’m on Bill’s insurance and it has an eye plan so I thought I would check it out. I did stop by at the end of January and they gave me a coupon for 50.00 off frames.

I walk in and look over the 99.00 frames. That is when they expertly direct me to the more costly frames. I have a problem with the price of frames. I just don’t believe that an average plastic frame does not cost 250.00 to make. It was their hard sell that ultimately got me out of there.

It must be the main method of the store. But I’ve been lightly browbeaten by them in the past and wasn’t going to go for it again. And they weren’t in Bill’s insurance network anyhow. I made an excuse that I wanted my partner’s input on the decision so the girl suggested that I take a cellphone pic and send it to him that way.

Not the frames I had in mind

Not the frames I had in mind

Gigi was her name and she took the photo for me. Then I said I was going to call Bill and get back to her. I walked outside and did leave a message, then went back inside and told Gigi that I was going to talk to him and take a walk while I waited.

She told me I had better come back.

I walked over to Lens Crafters and had an exam there. They were in Bill’s network. It turns out my vision hadn’t really changed since my last exam 2 years ago. And my left eyelid was a little droopy which was the first I ever heard of that. I think if it is, it was always that way.

I took over 300 pictures when I was in Manhattan. I went crazy. A lot of people out and about. I think they came out good. Not much different than photo I’ve posted in the past from Manhattan, just about 280 more than usual.

Currently trying to upload them in Facebook. But that’s not working out as well as I hoped. Maybe it’s the amount of pic that causing the trouble, but I continue to try.

From my notes the past week: I’ve decided to write about the blogs I read every day. They’re all in the blogroll to the right. I usually read at night, hours after most of the entries have posted. Most f the blogs report news of some sort whereas mine is mainly news about me.

I usually open tabs for Rod2.0. Jockohomo, JoeMyGod and Towleroad as well as Blabbeando. Rod 2.0 is news from an African American and gay slant. Lot’s of news for everyone as well as the occasional side of beefcake. Rod was the first blogger to ever comment on this blog, almost 5 years ago.

Then there’s Jockohomo who has turned m onto a lot of great music. I credit him turning m onto Girl Talk.. Lot’s of fun Pop Culture stuff as well as beefcake and great links. Joe.My.God is great, a lot of fun, and mainly political info but lot’s of fun stuff too.

Bill and I have met Joe a few times at various demonstrations and I remember seeing him outside the Highline Ballroom having a cigarette during my ill fated ecstatic trip to Blow Off last June. I don’t know if he recognized me and I’m not really sure if I recognized him, being an an altered state of mind at the time.

Towleroad is the most newsy of the the first for, and least daily newsy. A many layered cake of information, videos and pictures. It takes a while to get thorough it all so out of the first four it’s the last one I read.

Blabbeando is a personal favorite of mine. Written by a really nice guy, Andres who I’ve also met at demonstrations around Manhattan. A political and cultural blog which offers a Latin view point. He’s also very supportive, we collaborated on a blog that’s also in the blogroll. Won’t say which one, I’ll let you guess.

I use Google Analytics every now and then to see where my blog is being read and since the beginning of March I’ve had 658 visits, the most visits being from New York. The surprising thing is no one in Hoboken reads it. I found that out yesterday. Since I’m been analyzing the stats, it was quite a surprise.

Still having so Facebook problems uploading pics. In the meantime here are but a few.

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What A Wonderful World

A new week, a new day, a new entry for johnozed. Isn’t life grand? Today was the first day since last week that I had actually walked around Hoboken, besides the supermarket and Washington Street. Oh and the library. Nothing has changed it’s still the same. And as usual I’ve got nothing to say but it’s OK.

I got a nice St. Patrick’s Day card from my cousin Theresa. That was nice. I would have sent her one in kind if I had known and it’s not too late to do that I suppose. It just won’t get to her by Wednesday.

That is what actually got me out of the apartment and into the damp streets of Hoboken. I bought a St. Patrick’s Day card for Bill and wanted to get it to his office, hopefully by tomorrow. He won’t be in on Wednesday since he has something MAJOR going on, something that he asked me not to talk about.

So getting it in the mail to be delivered across the river within 24 hours is the goal. Then again you hear of people mailing letters decades ago and never making to the receiver, and I hope that’s not the case this time.

But if it doesn’t get there by tomorrow I take comfort in the fact that he’ll have something nice on his desk when he returns on Thursday.

I also stopped by the Guitar Bar and said hello to Jim Mastro. I hope he doesn’t think I’m a nuisance. I just pop in for a quick chat, say hello and I’m out of there. If I’m headed to the post office I usually ask him if he has any mail to be dropped off, but today I was going in the opposite direction.

He was playing Booker T & the MG’s McLemore Avenue, which is their take on Abbey Road. I bought it last year from iTunes and hadn’t played it since so when I came home I made sure to play it, as well as burn it so some people (maybe you) might get a copy somewhere down the line.

Despite the gray day, overcast skies I’ve been enjoying myself somewhat. Posting a lot onto Facebook. Found a hero and friend to LGBT people in young Will Phillips.

He’s the young man from Arkansas who got into trouble at his school when he refused to recite the Pledge of Allegiance sine gay people are not afforded liberty and justice. 10 years old and he recognized that liberty and justice was only for some, not all.

Posted a video from YouTube and commented on his YouTube page. Of course there are the usual wankers who wrote, people will marry their dogs, their children or have many wives. You know, the usual ignorant bullshit.

In a retaliatory move, I posted a clip of Mandy Patakin singing ‘You Have to be Carefully Taught’ from South Pacific on Facebook. I tried posting the video on the YouTube page but was unable so I posted the lyrics instead.

Last night I posted an interview from the Village Voice with Henry Rollins. Ol’ Henry’s a great guy, and quite a few people dug the interview. In the interview it’s mentioned that Henry is friends with RuPaul and will be a guest judge on RuPaul’s Drag Race, which is a fun show in itself.

Well according to Joe Jervis of JoeMyGod, that show is on tonight so I will be watching that.

Last night I watched The Pacific, the story of the battles in the Pacific theater of World War II. As I watched it I couldn’t help but think of the men that my father drank with at the VFW when I was growing up.

Like I’ve written previously, I spent a lot of time, perhaps too much time at the VFW. I didn’t mind then and looking back I still don’t mind. Gave me insight on how these men were.

Like how they saw atrocities, perhaps performed atrocities then came home and didn’t really say anything about it. Going to a psychiatrist or psychologist was a sign of weakness.

And don’t forget, men don’t cry.

Which is bullshit.

I know this is a Hollywood version and nowhere near as horrible as it actually was, but it’s a glimpse nonetheless. It was well made and when it was rebroadcast at 11:00 Bill and I watched it together and Bill was blown away as I was earlier.

Will Phillips is my hero!

Will Phillips accepts the award for Outstanding TV Journalism Segment at the 21st Annual GLAAD Media Awards in New York on March 13, 2010. Phillips appeared in the award winning segment “Why Will Won’t Pledge Allegiance” from CNN’s American Morning.

From Rogers & Hammerstein’s South Pacific: Carefully Taught

You’ve got to be taught/To hate and fear,You’ve got to be taught
From year to year,It’s got to be drummed In your dear little ear
You’ve got to be carefully taught.

You’ve got to be taught to be afraid Of people whose eyes are oddly made,
And people whose skin is a diff’rent shade,You’ve got to be carefully taught.

You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late, Before you are six or seven or eight,
To hate all the people your relatives hate, You’ve got to be carefully taught!

Lie to Me

It’s a Friday. I spent a few days this week, perhaps unknowingly getting back into the groove of working. Helping out Greg Stevens the past few days was nice. Still more work to be done next week. I suppose next on the agenda would be getting to bed early and waking up earlier than I’ve been.

I can safely say that I will not miss Hoda Kotb (and really, what kind of name is Hoda Kotb? According to Wikipedia, she’s Egyptian) and the one known as Kathie Lee. I can easily understand why Fang Gifford sat under someone else’s apple tree.

Last night Bill was running around in the city, I was here at home, feeling tired but other than that, OK. I knew that I would be more awake hours later than I was when I posted last night. Last night was The Office which was basically a clip show. Pretty funny nonetheless.

30 Rock which is usually funnier was not as funny as it’s been. Keith Olbermann was on the money last night with his commentary on the Supreme Court’s ruling, removing restrictions on how much money corporations can give to political campaigns.

Totally a fucked up ruling and I of course, am in line with what Olbermann had to say on the matter. Apparently, it’s now We the Corporation, no longer, We the People.

Also yesterday I posted on Facebook, an item from Crooks and Liars website about how a white power supremacist had been arrested for raping a child. Joe Jervis from Joe My God, a fellow blogger and also a Facebook friend posted the same article on Joe My God.

Last night Joe posted that he received about 1000 hits from Storm Front, a white power bowel movement. I’m sure will be alright but it was a bit unnerving. I can only guess that Crooks and Liars had many more hits on their website.

Right now Bill is driving a bus in Cliffside Park. I’m tracking him once again on Google Latitude. He’s off to Atlantic City again, driving the gamblers down the shore. I’ve never been to Atlantic City. I’m not one for gambling though, and if I went I would more than likely spend my time at the beach and right now it’s too cold for that.

When I was in the city I scrounged up my pennies to get the latest Mojo & Uncut magazines. Mojo is readily available but Uncut is nowhere to be found. It had been months since I had been to one news agent at 56th st and Lexington Avenue but to my surprise they went out of business.

I walked around the block to a different vendor and was able to buy Mojo but even they had no idea or explanation as to why there is no Uncut this month. I suppose I can wander around the Village this weekend and see if Rebel Rebel or somewhere else would have the February issue.

Last night I had 2 very weird dreams. One involved Bill and myself winning a trip to South Africa. We were on a tourist tram of sorts when an explosion occurred a a few cars behind the car we were in. We were OK but there were obviously people hurt.

It was a terrorist act. We tried communicating to friends and family in the States to let them know that we were alright, but Bill’s 3G service wasn’t working.

The next dream involved me going to a party that Joe Jervis was having at a house on stilts in the water that was only accessible by boat. I stayed for a while wandering around the house, saying hello to other bloggers and eventually getting into an argument with one of Joe’s neighbors.

I decided to leave the party but had to swim to my row boat which was drifting away while I held the Daily News over my head, trying not to get it wet.

Very strange indeed.

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Blackout

A nice Friday. Just me and a few other people in the office today. I left at 1:30. Last Friday I was on Long Beach Island, this week- the canyons of midtown Manhattan. It’s been an on again off again day. Sometimes it’s been bright and sunny and other times dark skies. Much like my personality the past few days.

Five years ago yesterday was the last major blackout in the tristate area and beyond. I was reading Joe.My.God. last night and he had an entry about it. I commented but didn’t get in depth since I have my own blog I can get as deep as I’d like.

It was a Thursday, and late in the afternoon. I was working at Wanker Banker on the 34th floor of a 36 story building. One of the divisions just completed their first trade online and there was champagne to be had. With a slight buzz, I was sitting at my desk making plans to split early when the lights flickered and finally went out.

A meeting hosted by the evil fusspot Joe Smershberger had just started. I called Bill to find out what was going on in his office at 42nd Street in Times Square. There was the chance that it was a blackout from 42nd st to 57th st, but it was throughout Manhattan, and as we found out, the other boroughs, the rest of the state as well as New Jersey, Connecticut and beyond.

My boss, Risotto and I went about following the building manager’s directions and proceeded to get everyone out of the office via the stairs. Joe Smershberger had a fit, and insisted on staying. Fine with us. We abandoned him and his guests and walked down 35 flights to the street, in dress shoes.

When we hit the street my legs were like rubber. People all over the place, in the streets and on the sidewalk I lit up a Padron which of course Risotto had something to say about which I basically ignored. We were with Sweet Sarah who had gone downstairs previous to the blackout and didn’t have to walk down the flights of stairs, though she did have to wear heels for the rest of the day since that was all she had.

We started walking downtown, Sweet Sarah was staying with friends and Risotto and I had to head back to New Jersey. I bought some beers which were going cheap since all the refrigerators were off. We walked down Sixth Avenue, passing a group of cops.

One of the cops saw me with the bottle and said that what I was doing was illegal. I brazenly told him that I thought he had bigger problems at that moment than me drinking out of a brown paper bag. That was that and I kept walking.

Risotto and I walked Sweet Sarah to 34th Street and she walked east while we walked west. We had heard that the buses were not leaving the bus terminal, the Path train of course was out so we walked to the river, thinking of catching a ferry.

It wasn’t like 9/11 when all the ferries and boats were taking people across the Hudson River for free. No, the ferries were jam packed or out of fuel and the boats were gouging the people with a $50.00 charge across. All this time Risotto was nipping at my heels, sounding like the Donkey to my Shrek. ‘What are we gonna do? Where are we gonna go?’

There were three women that also followed us around, not knowing what to do. We hopped on a NY Waterway bus and sat in traffic for about 30 minutes, finally moving about 20 feet. We walked over to the bus terminal where people were swarming over the buses, trying to get out of the city before night came.

There was the unspoken fear that something like 1977’s blackout would happen. Crime and looting. Hours had passed by then, no more beers, no more cigars. I suggested hitchhiking by the Lincoln Tunnel but Risotto was against it saying that if he was driving he wouldn’t pick anyone up.

The women we were with eventually found some other alpha males to tag along with and ignoring Risotto I walked over towards the tunnel and put my thumb out. In less than a minute I was picked up. Risotto somehow jumped in the car before me and nabbed the front seat.

Our driver was a very nice young woman, a tennis pro off to a tournament in Maryland. She had 5 other people in her mid-size car. It was cramped and it took forever to get through the tunnel. She needed to head for the Turnpike so I guided her through the dark Hoboken streets, getting out on the far side of town.

Risotto lived in Jersey City so I figured he would get home on his own with no problem. I wanted to walk through Hoboken to see how things were on Washington Street and everyone was out. It was dark, around 9:00.

Hundreds of people milling in the dark in front of City Hall, cars creeping down the street. I made it to my block and found that throughout all the darkness, my block actually had power. Stine and Julio were in their apartment having some cold beers and I joined them for a while.

I called Bill who was going to stay with his parents and make sure they were ok. The next day, we still had power while the rest of the region didn’t. Julio, Stine and I made plans to head to Sandy Hook. It was actually encouraged not to go to work, it was a Friday after all.

Most people in Manhattan worked in high rises and there really was no way that the work force would climb X amount of stairs especially if the office machines weren’t working.

I called Bill a few times to see how he was doing. He took it as me rubbing it in his face, the fact that I was going to be down the shore while he was stuck in Stuyvesant Town. I wasn’t. I was genuinely concerned.

The tolls were free on the Turnpike and the Parkway, smooth sailing. A beautiful day at Sandy Hook, followed by a nice visit with Connie. The power was back on and we enjoyed dancing with Connie to Talking Heads last album, Naked and making her short of breath from laughing so much.

We came back to Hoboken that night, everything was the same as it was before the blackout. Newspapers came out the next day showing people asleep on the steps of the main post office across from Penn Station. People slept in Bryant Park, anywhere they could. No major crimes and no looting were reported as far as I know.

And some pics from that day. (today really…and last week)

above pics taken with cellphone camera

Meanwhile, back in the concrete jungle…

42nd and Eighth Avenue

and finally, from Towleroad:
As a response earlier this week to revelations that Manhunt Chairman and founder Jonathan Crutchley (above, right) had maxed out his individual personal contributions to vocal gay rights opponent Senator John McCain ($2300) which we reported on Wednesday, Crutchley has apparently been pressured by the board of the company to step down as Chairman.

cut n’paste for the full monty
http://www.towleroad.com/2008/08/manhunt-chairma.html

Someone Saved My Life Tonight

Joe My God is a blog that I read most everyday. It’s an enjoyable read, definitely geared for gay men. Not so much erotica, but reports and stories that I find appealing. He lives in New York City. I believe he has hundreds of readers.

Last night in one of his open threads, he asked when was the first time you went to a gay bar, the bar name and what year. I responded as follows:

1981 Feathers in Bergen County NJ.
Didn’t speak with anyone, no one spoke with me. Probably ordered a soda. I was pretty much into Punk and New Wave at the time so I wasn’t into the disco. Which is the main reason I don’t go to gay bars. Not a fan of house music these days.

Everyone else’s entries were all positive experiences. Mine, while not necessarily negative set me apart from gay culture once again. It is true, I rarely, if ever, go to gay bars. It’s mainly the music that puts me off, and also the fact I am generally the invisible man when I go. Bartenders tend to ignore me. I prefer a mixed scene anyhow, not so segregated. Gay, Straight, Black, White and everything in between is fine by me.

I almost posted this on Joe My God following my original post.
Interesting side note. My brother who’s straight, liked the same type of music, Punk/New Wave and we both started going to this place in Hoboken called McSwells. Seeing great up and coming bands from all over the world for $5.00. At the time McSwells was listed as a Gay/Straight bar and it really was. Rock geeks and gays and lesbians all there for the music. It was also known in Hoboken as ‘that fag bar’. Flash forward a few years later, my parents are on vacation. They meet some people from Hoboken and my mother mentions that two of her sons go to a club called McSwells. The Hobokenites told her it was a fag bar.

This was before I came out to my family. My mother was distressed but I think the concept of gay and straight people able to mingle was a new concept to her. The subject didn’t sit well with her and it was never spoken of again, though I did have my mother come to Hoboken to have brunch at McSwells but by that time I was out. I don’t know what she expected but I do know she enjoyed herself.

Feathers was the first gay bar I ever went to, and I haven’t been back since. The first gay bar I had contact with was a bar called the Bell, in Hackensack NJ. The Bell used to be a rock and roll club or a disco, that my siblings occasionally went to. At some point in the mid 70’s it turned into a gay bar which put some people off. I was androgynous then, pre-pubescent.

Though when puberty hit and I knew I was gay, there was nowhere I could turn, no services available for a 13 year old boy in north New Jersey. Definitely could not talk to anyone I knew about what was happening to me. The confusion, from living in a straight world and hearing queer and fag and dyke jokes all the time and finding out those jokes were about me, was crushing and on top of that was the shame. I believe I had a slight nervous breakdown the summer of 1976. I kept it quiet.

The only thing I could thing of doing was to call the Bell. I was alone in the house that day, every one else off at work. I was left climbing the walls that summer day. At wit’s end I called the Bell in the middle of the afternoon. Some guy answered the phone, either a manager or someone setting up for the evening. I poured my heart and soul out to this stranger on the other end of the line.

How I didn’t know what to do, what I disappointment I was to my family, how I didn’t want to live like that. It seemed like we were on the phone a long time, maybe an hour I think. Whomever it was, they talked me in off the ledge. Someone I never knew before or since. Obviously I eventually came to grips with my sexuality and as out of step I was with the rest of the world before that, I was definitely marching to the beat of a totally different drum from then on.

I wonder whatever happened to the guy who answered the phone. I wonder how his night went. It must have been a heavy trip for him to listening to the anguish of a 13 year old boy coming to grips with his sexuality. He could have just brushed me off, hung up the phone and continued doing what he was doing.

Perhaps he did for me what someone might have done for him when he was coming of age, or perhaps no one was there to help him out back then and took it upon himself to give someone support that he never got for himself.

Just something that struck me as I read Joe My God.