Chelsea Art Galleries | johnozed

You’d think that since I got my OB/GYN license and will start my practice next month I would be in a good mood. And I was in a good mood for most of yesterday. Pretty much happy, texting with friends and generally living in the moment.

I sat on the front steps, smoking a cigar and reading Uncut magazine with Kate Bush on the cover. Saw Rob La Rosa walking by and chatted with him. Talked to Julio on the phone before I came upstairs to watch some comedy on NBC.

Community was good, but not as good as the Paintball episode. Parks and Recreation was OK, merely OK. The Office was good, mainly because of Kathy Bates. That was also when Bill came home. Sitting on the couch he remarked how that woman reminded him of Kathy Bates.

Then came 30 Rock which was pretty funny, perhaps the best of the four. Had the classic line, ‘I’m suing you, I’m suing Vagisil and I’m suing this baby.’.

I saw that there was a documentary on Tito Puente at 10:00 so I changed the channel so Bill would enjoy that. He did. It was his father’s era, and apparently his father grew up on the same street as Cuban Pete who it was said was the greatest dancer back then.

Bill went to bed after that, I stayed up and watched whatever was on. A little before 1:00 I decided to go to bed after taking a melatonin.

It was quite warm and with my thick hair, (hair, not head) it wasn’t easy to fall asleep. Bill was feeling cuddly last night for the first time in a while and after a half hour I got back out of bed, argued with some Libertarian online and took another melatonin.

When I finally did fall asleep it wasn’t restful. In fact I had some awfully violent dreams. Too gruesome to write about, I’d rather forget them.

In the morning, as he left for work, Bill was a prince, kissing me goodbye and telling me how happy he was that I found a job as an OB/GYN.

Eventually I got out of bed and started my day, but a melancholia settled in and I found myself terribly depressed.

I decided to head into the city and check out some art, specifically the ‘Remember the Upstairs Lounge’ at the No Longer Empty art space on 447 w 16th street, next to the Highline Ballroom where Bill, Juan and myself had that ‘ecstatic’ night last summer. Or rather Juan and I had the ecstatic night and Bill chaperoned.

Remember the Upstairs Lounge was based on a fire at a second floor gay bar in New Orleans in 1973. 37 people died in the fire. Gasoline was in the air, leaving people to think it was arson but the New Orleans Police didn’t care enough to pursue any detective work and the case went cold.

The exhibition was a recreation of the Upstairs Lounge, photographs of some of the patrons and some 1973 beefcake photos of Burt Reynolds and Mark Spitz.

Since it was 1973 and gay liberation hadn’t really caught on besides NY, San Francisco and Los Angeles, no identification was found on the bodies since the victims were more than likely closeted.

Another sad fact was that the Catholic diocese absolutely would not allow any church services for the victims. Scumbag motherfuckers they were and still are. Actually that’s not right, they’re not motherfuckers, they’re child fuckers.

The Reverend Troy Perry of Bill’s former church, the Metropolitan Community Church stepped up and performed whatever religious requirements the community need. Bill and I met Troy Perry a few years ago.

Nice guy, has to travel with bodyguards since an out gay man ministering to the LGBT community might as well have a target on his back, even though I think he might be retired now.

I definitely did the right thing, heading into the city and seeing some awesome (in the truest sense of the word) art.

It was a beautiful day and not too many people around. And I’m feeling a lot better.
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Fortune (cookies) on the go

And it’s been quite a nice day spent with my sister Annemarie and her son Earl. Earl is now 6’1”. Almost as tall as me, and as tall as Bill. A not so angry inch on this end.

I met up with them last night. They stopped here in Hoboken where we had pizza at Grimaldi’s. They can’t get pizza like that in Arcata. It was a quick stop before they headed up to Garfield to my brother Frank’s house.

I stayed in Hoboken, eventually going out for a stroll, walking off the pizza I helped inhale. Nice night smoking a cigar, listening to some of the London Calling album up to Lost in The Supermarket before switching over to the first side of Talking Heads: 77.

Bill came home a little after that, watched Lawn hors d’œuvre Criminal Relent up to a point when Bill switched into stage manager mode and hit pause on the digital cable box for about 50 minutes. He un-paused it when the news came on and his phone call was finished. The news was nothing in particular, mostly bad.

Then the Simpsons came on and Bill was off to bed, me joining him a little while later. He was off in the morning and kissed me goodbye as I lay in bed.

No work today. Annemarie called a little while later, checking to see if I was awake and also to see if anything was planned for the day.

At that moment I didn’t have any plans but after a cup of coffee I had an idea. A trip to the city and visiting some art galleries. Always fun to do and also easy on the wallet.

Anne and Earl rode down to Hoboken and found a spot on my block and we walked over to the Path, riding to 14th Street and walking up Fifth Avenue.

I had hoped to go to the Not Fade Away Gallery to check out the New York City 1970’s photos of Allen Tannenbaum. Despite getting there after 12:00 on a Friday when they were supposed to be open, they weren’t. It was just a little bit disappointing but other galleries lay ahead.

We walked down 20th street and wound up having lunch at the Rocking Horse Cafe which was good as usual. Then it was off to the galleries, first stop was a Stephen Shore exhibition.

In the 1960’s, Stephen Shore was a young man in his 20’s and took a lot of classic photos of Andy Warhol and the Factory crowd. I had seen some of the pictures in books but it was great to see them blown up in a gallery.

Then it was a hodgepodge of gallery hopping mainly from 22nd street to 24th and 25th Streets. Earl had gotten a phone call from a friend back in Arcata about completing his college registration today so I made a call to Bill and the three of us hopped in a taxi and rode up to midtown where we met up with Bill.

Bill was kind enough to bring his laptop down to the street where Earl worked the wireless connection and my cellphone and spoke to Susan, the administrative help at Humboldt State.

The process didn’t go as planned and Bill needed to get back to his office so we meandered down Broadway, saw a big chess game in Herald Square and hopped on a Path train back to Hoboken.

We came back here where I set Earl up on Bill’s Mac and I played DJ while Annemarie read some magazines and eventually catnapped. After Earl completed his registration, they were going to get some food in Hoboken before heading back to Garfield so I joined them for dinner at the Karma Cafe.

After that a quick visit to Julio & Stine’s apartment where they were able to finally meet Alexander who clearly loved being the center of attention. Still an adorable lad, running around trying to communicate.

I sat in the next room and read to Alexander while Annemarie and Earl caught up with Julio & Stine. A perfect finish to a perfect day. Simply a nice, nice, nice day with some of my favorite people.

And now, the pics