dim sum / daddies and twinks / Rick and Steve / print media (in trouble)

Yesterday I woke from a dream in which I was chased by a mob of angry, humorless lesbian feminists with baseball bats. I think I caught a glimpse of Valerie Solanas amongst the throng. Unnerving, to say the least.

Had dim sum with Kirk and Melanie at Wong's King - old times revisited. This time I didn't bring a flask of whiskey and pour it into my teacup like I did years ago, last time I was there. The server girls get to wear cute violet colored uniforms. While waiting to be seated we stepped next door to an Asian video store and made ourselves Obnoxious White People by laughing at the poorly translated English titles of the films. I didn't mean to be rude, but let's face it, that shit is funny. My favorite movie title: "Grapeplantation the Man" (photo above, in case you don't believe me). "Grapeplantation" being one word.

Later I introduced Kirk to the majestic cathedral of booze, juicy burgers, redneck rock and free wifi that is Sam's Billiard's in the Hollywood District. When I had my own apartment (the Melcliff, kitty-corner from Holocene) my bar of choice was My Father's Place, within easy walking distance. Ditto the Florida Room when I lived in the QuArtHouse. Now it's Sam's, two easy MAX stops from my house on scenic 82nd Ave. It was Ms. Su'ad who introduced ME to that place years ago, when I was a blonde knave doing data entry for a corporate litigation firm on the outskirts of Lake Oswego.

Got the new issue of OUT. More blather about Sam Adams and his immensely overanalyzed sex life, featuring quotes by Ms. Davis and Mr. Beck, the leading mouthpieces of our queer community. (Note to self: START BEING OLD, so people will pay attention to you.) Also a good article on the new movie about Federico Lorca and his relationship with Salvador Dali, featuring an interview with cover boy Javier Beltran.

I was stunned to hear that Jaymee and Jim, respectively the news and A&C editors of Just Out, have left the paper. What does this mean? Is this the end of Just Out as we know it? A harbinger of the end of print media in general as we know it? I'm glad I have so many different irons in the fire. It's one more sign to me that I've picked the right time to leave Portland, though. It feels like the end of a cycle.

When a door closes, a window of opportunity opens.

I was able to fix much of the Hat Party footage using 3-way Color Corrector in the Video Effects menu of Final Cut Pro. 3-way Color Corrector, I salute thee from the bottom of mine empty goblet.

Years ago during the QuArt days Sam Adams came to a couple of our art shows and behaved flirtatiously towards me, and people asked me why I didn't respond, and I said even though he's an attractive man and it was certainly flattering, the fact is I just don't have the Daddy Complex that many gay guys have. I don't want the bigger, older, hairy man to wrap his lovin' arms around me. I go for the skinny pretty boys myself. I told Dylan last time we hung out, "I'm like a twink-daddy or something. A combination of the two." (His new metal band, Cull, goes on tour next week - he gave me a beautiful copy of their new CD with an awesome lyric book.) I have more than one type, and am attracted to guys both younger and older than me at times, but based on my experience so far I'd have to say my LEADING type is the skinny, pretty boy with dark hair and pale skin. (Ben W. of course being the prime example.)

It's amazing that it's taken me so long to figure all this out, but that's what happens when you spend a decade associating with chemical substances rather than people.

My cousin just told me about Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple, a show on the Logo channel that's done entirely with Legos and Lego people. He's taking me to see Cheech and Chong's live appearance a couple nights after I arrive!

I borrowed Kirk's scale to weigh my bags for the airport, and was elated when I stepped on it myself this morning and found that I weigh 185 lbs. Before I left for Glacier last summer I tipped the scale at a beefy 200 lbs. It's hard to believe that I've lost 15 POUNDS since then, but as they say, numbers don't lie. It's all the more impressive since muscle weighs more than fat, and I have gained muscle just this month, since I started pilates. All that sweat is paying off.

Maybe when I get to San Francisco I'll just start having a lot of (safe) sex, and that can take the place of exercise.

A further rant on media's lack of ethics / Love Show / acting!

The local media is still gleefully gorging itself on the Sam Adams imbroglio that they created. It’s like when a hippo carcass washes ashore in Africa and the crocodiles have a time of plenty, feast upon feast. Our very own Bill Clinton scandal! Ain’t it grand? Who do you identify with? Most of the media obviously identify with Kenneth Star, but I identify more with Clinton/Adams. New revelations include Adams kissing Beau Breedlove in a bathroom at City Hall when Breedlove was only seventeen! (ABSOLUTELY IRRELEVANT! HAS NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO WITH THE MAN’S ABILITY AS MAYOR!) The funny thing is, with most people I hang out with, who are not part of the press corps or involved in city politics, this issue just doesn’t even come up. If it does at all, it’s only a response to how much it continues to be plastered all over every type of media in town (which is also the reason I blog about it! I’m on my way home from somewhere, pick up a paper, there’s WW at it again, it makes me mad, I have to write it out!) Many people just don’t care and see this for what it is: the media whipping up a controversy so it will have something to write and talk and be outraged about. Well, there are certainly SOME people who are eager to voice their opinion – the ones who demanded Adams resign immediately, the ones who are easy to stir into this knee-jerk reaction, the ones who are always happy to jump up on their high moral horse at a moment’s notice, THE ONES WHO VOTED FOR MEASURE 36! (You can say “It’s not about the sex!” all you want, but those ARE your allies in calling for Adams to resign!) Are you SURE you want to ally yourselves with those people? The media doesn’t care about ethics, it cares about having a story. And from the beginning, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I’ve seen the whole thing as an interesting example of the lack of ethics in journalism and other media – even right here in supposedly liberal and enlightened Portland! – rather than of Mayor Adams. WHEN SOMEONE LIES TO PROTECT THEIR PRIVACY, IT’S DIFFERENT THAN WHEN THEY LIE FOR POLITICAL REASONS. Sam Adams is not Richard Nixon, and this is a sorry stand-in for Watergate!

Bottom line: the media likes power. They like to feel that they control things, that they manipulate reality according to their own designs. They set people up on a pedestal – Sam Adams the media darling! On every TV channel! In every paper! – and then knock them off, to exercise their contrived omnipotence – Adams in disgrace! How could he! He must resign immediately! Anyone stepping back and taking a look from outside the snow-globe can see exactly what’s going on. That’s why I will always be happy to remain in the background, a voice to be sure, but not on a pedestal, not a media figure – I won’t let people put me on a pedestal, because I don’t trust their motivations in doing so. I’m happy right where I am, thanks. Funny thing is a while back I sort of played the role of a person who craves fame for its own sake, in a tongue-in-cheek way, and some people who know me here think that’s what I am. I have to laugh, ‘cause that’s sooooo not what I’m about. Of course I want recognition, and I’m going to have it, but for solid artistic reasons, not the empty instant fame of modern celebrity culture. I find that kind of culture fascinating, but at the same time, unutterably pathetic. I’m going to set the bar a little higher. That’s why my blog isn’t 100% shallow coverage of every little thing that celebrities do, say, and wear, as is the case with a lot of other bloggers out there, particularly the gay ones. (I DESPISE Perez Hilton! Down with stupidity chic! "Intellectual" is not a synonym for "pretentious!" It simply means that you use your brain and devote yourself to things that actually matter!) Don’t take this personally, I enjoy your blogs sometimes, but maybe try branching out a little? Get out of the herd. Think for yourself. There are other things even more interesting than Angelina Jolie’s latest catfight with Jennifer Anniston.

I saw “The Beaches of Agnes” yesterday and it was SUPERB – gave it an A. Walking through the park blocks afterwards I saw someone had placed a sheaf of yellow flowers in the hand of Honest Abe.

This morning I was out again and saw “Dean Spanley,” a good movie for dog-lovers. Lots of close-ups of Peter O’Toole’s glassy-eyed, thin-lipped, occasionally drooling, skull-like face. But as an actor he is, of course, first-class. I’ve been thinking a lot about acting, lately. Reading Christopher Plummer’s memoir is factoring in here as well. I’ve often had the feeling that I missed my course and should have gotten into acting in high school, but I was too shy and withdrawn. Perhaps it’s not too late, though, eh? Is acting the new medium awaiting me in San Francisco? We shall see...

Had a good phone chat with Anthony, and we even touched on compensation and credit for the book, and I said I’d like to have my name on the cover, even if it’s in smaller letter than his, because I am trying to get my by-line out there, too. He said if it gets big and we do book readings he may have to send me to do them, ‘cause he doesn’t want to!

I have a few hours’ downtime before the Love Show. Autumn called to remind me of my alcohol monitoring shift. My job is to keep Olympic Mills and Pink/Haberman from getting in trouble with the Oregon Liquor Controlfreak Commission.

What should I wear?

Talkangelic

My winning streak continues. This morning Scott drove me to UPS where I shipped my two boxes off to Maui for a whopping $95 – damn! And that was the cheapest rate, parcel post. I insured the clothing box for $300. Could tell it was shaping up to be a beautiful day. Then he was so kind as to drop me off near Emie and Justin’s house. We had our cast meeting for Art Police, and it went well: I felt much better afterwards. Both of them did really well delivering their lines, funny and professional at the same time. I underestimate them because of how messy their lifestyle can be. We’re filming the weekend of the 21st, and I called PCM and made the equipment reservation with Pam, who said she thought I’d moved already. Audra will not be participating in the film (omg) so Emie is going to play both roles: Ann Athema and the gallery owner, which actually I think is going to be really funny, and I’m looking forward to her change of costume and makeup. There’s a gallery right across from their house they think we may be able to film in to avoid the cramped quarters of Emie’s salon. Justin was very interested in my book “How To Be A Gay Porn Star” which I’m writing up for J.O. We decided we should get a fourth person to work the camera while we film. They were playing a show at The Know tonight and invited me but I’m avoiding drinking and that pretty much means avoiding going out. I brought them my space heater, the one I got from Wal-Mart last year, since their house is always freezing; this way they don’t have to turn the gas on and heat the whole house. I was going to sell it but wtf. After the meeting I went into downtown and picked up the Christopher Plummer memoir “In Spite of Myself” which I had on hold. The MAX routes were screwed up because they’re preparing to open the green line, so they had bus shuttles bringing people along what is normally the MAX route. Nonetheless I got out to Chameleon by 4pm for my meeting with Pat. He made me food as always, and it was really good – spring rolls and chicken and cabbage on rice, nice and spicy. We talked over the Hat Party and he confirmed I can have the patio for my birthday/going away soiree on March 18th! He doesn’t have special guests planned for the Hat Party this time – Sam Adams probably won’t work this year, for obvious reasons – and is looking for new performers, so I suggested some of the burlesque performers of Query/Sluts and Squares, and need to put them in touch with him. I’d love to see them rock the Hat Party. I suggested he auction off Beau Breedlove as part of the festivities, which got a big laugh, but uh, I don’t think that’ll actually work. Why do cars always almost hit me when I’m crossing Sandy, legally, in the Hollywood District? It’s happened many times, something about that particular area. My new contacts are working out great. I’ve missed the freedom of not wearing glasses. Portland was great for glasses – “When in Rome,” you know – but Maui just says contacts to me. (Gotta be able to wear sunglasses.) My sobriety is strong right now. I even resisted the lure of free drinks when I visited Pat at Chameleon this afternoon. Although I’ve rediscovered the ritual of smoking weed before bed. This stuff is mellow and non-paranoid and makes me feel like a big, lazy cat. Scott just invited me to the Talkdemonic concert at Doug Fir, but I’m feeling too stay-at-home. Gonna work on stuff, smoke a bit of herb, watch SNL, which is new tonight, with TV on the Radio as the musical guest. Cuddle with my sugarpuss, who seems to be growing ever sweeter as our time together draws to a close, as if to be certain to break my heart when the time for separation arrives.

The Only Faith I Need. And Being In Love. (Me??)

Where to pick up the pieces, and which pieces to pick up, those are my questions right now. Creatively I’m finally almost back on top. School, on the other hand, is not good...not good at all. I am so burnt out on it and have no motivation. Kind of stuck in this unpleasant stage between leaving one place and starting a brilliant new chapter. Six months on Maui! And San Francisco afterwards. I am the luckiest S.O.B. ever, and it's weird to have this one family member - and one so fabulous it's like I invented him myself out of some psychic need - care enough to extend this invitation to me, after living a life in which "family" has always been pretty much nonexistent, or else depressing and tragic to the point where I just have to shut it out to keep from going to pieces. And I've kind of been going to pieces lately.

Oddly - but not oddly for me, really - it's a new movie that's instigated a sort of landslide of emotions that has been threatening to bury me lately. It's Brideshead Revisited, the new film version, which came out late last year - I saw it alone in a theater full of elderly nursing home church people of some kind (I had to pick a Sunday afternoon!), who were probably all hooked on the '80s miniseries, and watched the film in total silence, then shuffled out, possibly completely offended by some of the bold changes in the new version (including the one brief kiss between Charles and Sebastian that brings the gay subtext to the surface, and the brilliant ending that switches Charles' conversion to Catholicism into a tolerance of faith despite his own professed atheism) - but it is these very changes that I love so much, I know I've been one of those people in the past who vehemently protests when someone does a modern "update" and changes an author's work, so this is an example of seeing the other side of that debate. Then again I haven't read the novel yet, although I purchased a copy I plan to read on Maui - with the poster imagery from the new film version on the cover! I may be the only one talking so passionately about this film, but hey, never stopped me before. And then of course there is Ben Whishaw, who I've already sung a thousand love songs to before, and his, in my opinion almost astonishing performance as Sebastian in the new version. I'm in the peculiar place of being enamored of this character on the one hand, wanting him to be real, wanting to know him, wanting to save him from self-destruction, and on the other hand feeling that he represents me, in some ways, more than any other character I've seen in a film in half of forever. But he's different than me, too, and Ben's performance is helping make me a better person. I've watched it a number of times recently with four different groups of people - definition of friendship: people you share your obsessions with! - and I study his character - his gentleness, his manner of speaking (God the British accent is hot! Maybe the hottest of all), just the look in his eyes - and take from it things I can use to improve my own personality. This is a roundabout way of saying that I'm in love - I really am, like head over heels, and this never happens to me - with a character from a film, and by extension, with the actor who portrayed him (there's no denying looks are part of the equation!) The unfortunate thing is that this being in love business can be dreadfully depressing - the worst soul ache a human can feel, I think, except maybe a mother losing her offspring, I'm guessing. It happened to me long ago with a real person, ONCE, and I simply couldn't bear the pain of it and made a resolution to never let it happen to me again, so I gave up love and sex and relationships and the whole thing and just said it's better to be alone, and that's how I've been forever. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe it's a harbinger of good things to come. I'm definitely approaching a major turning point.

I am so glad Sam Adams didn’t have to resign in the face of this artificial, tawdry, tabloid-in-a-teapot controversy. At the same time, I will say that I would never advocate damaging newspaper boxes because people don’t agree with your opinion, which apparently happened to Just Out. Marty Davis posted something a while back cautioning people to beware that everything they post on Facebook can be read by every major media outlet in Portland. I’m sure that caution wasn’t intended for me, because it’s probably pretty obvious that I’m not very shy when it comes to revealing personal thoughts as well as vehement opinions on virtually any subject. I COPIED my letter to WW’s editor to every major media outlet in Portland! I also sometimes write about some really personal stuff and put it up on public websites. I’m not fully sure why, some form of mass confession maybe, but also simply because I want people to know me, warts and all, and then I guess I really write a lot of it for myself, a self-psycho-analysis thing, and in case it's interesting enough for anyone else, why not share it? I don't really care if people know the less savory things about me or the sometimes severe mistakes I make or the more unhealthy impulses I sometimes succumb to. I don't want to hide anything. I disclose everything and I like people who are similarly honest and strong enough to make themselves as vulnerable as I sometimes do. I believe in myself and that is the only faith I need.

Journalistic integrity/Sam Adams/Out Magazine

I am still fuming over the Sam Adams situation (incidentally, despite the uproar, Sam Adams the beer magnate/founding father still comes up in Google Images above our mayor), and I have to elaborate on it just a bit more. When people say he lied (about his relationship with Beau Breedlove) in order to get himself elected, I don't get it. Do they mean he wouldn't have been elected mayor if it was known he'd had a (brief) sexual relationship with a younger man? If so, ISN'T THAT MAYBE A PROBLEM WE THE PUBLIC HAVE, that we should look at, instead of demonizing Adams? Sam is not Bill Clinton - he doesn't have a wife to be cheating on! That's why I don't believe people when they say this is about whether he lied or not. And the whole thing reeks of hypocrisy. How many of you can honestly say you never tell a lie for any reason? I think it's far more likely that Sam lied to protect his privacy and prevent people from freaking out - just as they're doing right now! - than to get himself elected.

I just saw a news clip about how Adams supporters are banding together on the internet. (I'm planning to attend the City Hall rally next Tuesday, at least the first part of it, since I have to be to class by 1pm.) They had a timid, apologetic looking young fellow on there talking about how Sam made a mistake...but that shouldn't be the end of his run as mayor. That's a way more apologetic stance than we should be taking on this issue. What I intended to do with my letter to WW is TO TURN THE TABLES ON JOURNALISTS - I am one! - and ask THEM To hold themselves to a higher standard of journalistic integrity and look at the way THEY participate in these modern-day witch hunts. The way WW just rubs itself with oleaginous glee over being the first to break this putrid story - they have to remind you every five seconds - just makes me sick! And now for Marty Davis to join the chorus - the publisher of Just Out! - is the ultimate insult. Think about what you're participating in! I don't even care that I freelance for Just Out, I'm going to say it. I only have a month or two to go anyway.

Speaking of things that are gay. I got an issue of OUT Magazine last night, a leftover from the gay.com account I canceled (or at least stopped paying for) a while back. It has a few good articles in it, and I'm not going to deny I love some nice glossy eye candy as much as anyone, and yet, I see it as a good example of the way mainstream gay publications push an identity that you're supposed to adhere to if you're a good gay. Well, I'm not a good gay, and I never will be. I look at other gay bloggers and many of them toe the line, with encomiums to Madonna (I heard a new song of hers accidentally at a bar a while back and it sounded like "Get Into the Groove" just sort of re-mixed! But I think it was a new song, the lyrics were different. How funny/pathetic), obligatory cattiness, every shallow thing you can think of, virtually nothing intellectual. Gays are being dumbed down like everyone else. And their editor came off as such a moron. A reader who wrote in with constructive criticisms that were actually perfectly valid was treated to a snarky, dismissive response that didn't even make sense. It's things like this that make me feel I'm not a part of the gay community any more than I am part of any other community.

I think I'm gonna try to write for OUT. Subvert from within, baby!

An open letter to the Willamette Week

I am so furious over this bullshit. And now the paper I freelance for has written a similar editorial calling for Adams' resignation. I just wrote this letter to WW's editor.


Dear Mr. Zusman,

Honestly, I rarely read WW any more - I figured out a long time ago that it's written for (and by?) people who don't really live in Portland. But this Sam Adams thing is really a new low. You sent your reporters to his office because it was important for you to prove that he had a sexual relationship with Beau Breedlove? Did it never occur to you that even politicians deserve to have a private life and that the whole thing was maybe none of your fucking business? And now his career as mayor may be over before it even began, over THIS? And this is some kind of accomplishment that you'll go home and feel good about tonight? Hey, I think I know what's really going on here. Nigel Jaquiss scored with the Neil Goldschmidt story, so let's repeat the formula with someone currently in office, right? Press that "sexual panic" button and watch everyone jump. I'm not really surprised that someone in Sam Adams' position would lie to protect their privacy, and I see all the outrage over ethics as a thin veil over peoples' discomfort with the sexuality involved. Well, 18 may be young, but it's not child molestation. If Nigel Jaquiss wins a Pulitzer for this story, it'll be two more than he deserves. I think I'm going to assemble a group of citizens to come to YOUR offices. We will present the evidence we've collected that WW is an invidious muckraking waste of ink and time. Hopefully the Oregonian will then issue an editorial calling for you to resign from the world of publishing.

Anthony L. LeTigre

Portland, OR

Inauguration Day/Ann Coulter/Sex Lives of Politicians

Obama is in office! My feeling of excitement and hope for the future is balanced by my innate distrust of politics in general and presidential politics most of all. My roommate is watching an episode of South Park right now and they showed McCain and Obama after the election going backstage and high-fiving each other: "That was close, we were almost tied there for a minute." And even though I find South Park too puerile to take in more than small doses, there may be a little truth to that. As dramatic and inspiring as Obama's rise has been I'm too cynical to believe someone gets to the top of our fucked-up political landscape without the assistance and conspiracy of very questionable people and powers. But for the moment I'm with the many others who think this could truly be the beginning of a new, better epoch for our country. I like what he said in his inauguration speech about how we won't apologize for the way we live, since white American guilt is so rampant here in Portland. I like when he talked about a person whose parents may not have been served in a restaurant 50 years ago now taking the sacred oath to protect the country. Although I think it's a little weird how much he talked about fighting and defeating our enemies, since one of the best things he's always had going for him is that he opposed the Iraq war from the beginning.

I just saw a clip of a new cast member on SNL doing an impression of irrelevant hag Ann Coulter on Weekend Update. Is Coulter for real? I mean, does she actually believe the shit she talks, or is she just cashing in on controversy?

Front page news today: Sam Adams, our newly anointed gay mayor here in Portland (pictured above), is embroiled in some scandal over an 18 year old male assistant he now admits he had a sexual relationship with after denying it previously. I guess he's going to be kind of our local, gay Bill Clinton. Funny thing is I remember Jill Freeman predicting this would happen a YEAR ago when I worked in the Dept. of Comm at PSU. My reaction, of course, is who cares? I am staunchly uninterested in the sex lives of politicians, local or otherwise. Let's talk about his ability to govern the city and leave it at that.