Curl up with a good blonde

I was fifteen year’s old when a French kiss in the women’s bathroom of Toad Hall, (a nightclub in Red Bank New Jersey that, at the time was one of the few places in Jersey that would let punk bands play) changed my life forever.

I had no idea I was gay. I had never even considered the notion, but five seconds into that spontaneous and miraculous kiss with Cindy Butler (name changed, she’s not as brave as I wish she was) and I knew my life would never be the same.
Suddenly all the answers to questions that had plagued me since I was four-years-old came spilling forward like an avalanche!

That’s why I had to bring my first grade teacher Mrs. Mahon an apple every week!

That’s why I could not even consider being anywhere but the television set every Wednesday night, in time to see Lindsay Wagner play “The Bionic Woman!”

That’s why I felt a sick, wrong and uncomfortable feeling in my chest every time a boy tried ANYTHING with me!, Well hmm aside from the fact that some of the guys I met on the Long Branch Amusement Pier in 1981 weren’t exactly pinnacles of society.

I took a lot of abuse in the 7th and 8th grade and didn’t even know why I was targeted, but my abusers knew. Pretty preppy popular girls who took one look at my husky-boys K-mart back-to-school clothes and knew there was something just not Kosher about the girl in the flannel shirt. Boys who tried to hit me and spit on me because I was not the norm.

Oh I got my revenge my dears. I broke out of my shell and ruled my high school as the badass rock-and roll biker chick from hell!
But even then, I was covering up. I knew I was different just didn’t know exactly how, that is until that one kiss blasted the walls open.
It wasn’t like I was ready to say I was gay, exactly, no not in Rumson New Jersey in 1981, but I joined a theatre club filled with gay and bi-sexual actors and learned being bi-sexual was all the rage in the punk, glam and theatre scene. It took me a few more years to say I was gay and when I finally did, most of my pals answered, “DUH! Of course you are!”
In the years that have followed, I have marched in parades, sat in floats, joined rallies, raised my fist and my voice high in the air to announce to one and all those immortal words; “We’re here. We’re queer. Get used to it!”

But even now, decades later, when I see a headline, like the one I saw about Jamie Hubley, the gay 15 year old from Ottawa, Canada, who committed suicide on Friday, I am right back there.
I am 13 years old, sitting in a bathroom stall eating my lunch because I am too ashamed that no one in my grammar school lunchroom is brave enough to risk the taunts of bullies to sit with me.
I am 16 years old and not able to say out loud that the real reason I don’t want to go to the prom is that I cannot go with the person I really want to kiss without being run out of town.
Oh my darlings, of course it gets better and thank god for sites like www.itgetsbetter.org who can say this in the voice of thousands.
But for Jamie it never had a chance to get better, because he ended his young life far too early.
He chose death to three more years of high school.

It has to end.

Our teachers, our parents, our students all have to band together to stop bullying in our schools and if principals and teachers and teacher’s aids are too cowardly to stand against it, FIRE THEIR asses because stopping bullying and homophobia against our kids has got to be part of the job requirement!

It did get better for me oh my dears, so much better but there where days when I was a kid that the idea of living comfortably true to myself out loud and proud just seemed like a dream.

My dream came true and so can yours. Don’t give up, ever.

I was on route to a friend’s restaurant opening in South Street Seaport when the wall street protests went full steam, all my gal and I knew was that we couldn’t take the seaport exit off the FDR and had to go all the way down to battery park and come back around. This made us late of course but more importantly I thought what the hell is a Wall Street protest?

We heard 700 protestors were arrested that night for trying to cross the bridge. I began to remember the republican convention protests when peaceful protestors were rounded up in nets and jailed. Those were the days when to be anti-war thanks to Junya GW bush meant to be anti-american. I’m fairly sure if Bush and Cheney were around today to take the BLAME as they should be for causing the beginning of the murder of our economy and lying to get us into a bogus endless war, they’d be locking up the wall street protestors calling them terrorist sympathizers.

Hey folks creating martyrs never worked for anyone!

Watching the republicans fight to the death not to raise taxes on the top 1% uber wealthy while schoolteachers are getting laid off makes me angry. Knowing Wall Street gave out bonuses the year they sucked our economy dry for bailouts feels criminal to me.

Watching the wall street protests grow and the people around me who are struggling, fed up and tired, feel inspired by the protests is rather amazing. Certainly reminds me of the movement we all watched this past year in the middle east.

It also reminds me of the creating of the T party, although of course T party right-wingers don’t see it that way. Hey if the shoe fits, shut up and wear it!

Clearly these protests are NOT a little thing to poo poo. They are the rising voices of working class and middle class Americans who are tired of being shitted on by the 1% and the politicians licking the tushies of the 1%.

Three weeks after the Occupy Wall Street protests started in downtown Manhattan, things are getting pretty spicy.

They don’t seem to have a specific set of demands and no specific leader either. But there’s something kind of nice and refreshing in that too.
Its’ an organic growing free flowing revolution of sorts.

I think folks are mad at so many things at the same time, they just can’t be nailed down a to few.

Corporate dollars dictating what the government does is certainly on the top of the list.

I was too young to really understand the 60’s but this certainly feels like that kind of vibe, grass roots, un-kept, peaceful and poetic.

Young people out of college who can’t find work. Folks whose un-employment has run out, folks whose retirement funds have disappeared, the list of angry Americans is endless.

Then you have small business owners who are tired of listening to politicians tout the love and support this country needs to embrace the small business owner with, the back-bone of America’s economy and bla de bla bla and meanwhile certainly in NYC, every possible tax, penalty, inspection fee, that can be imagined is being relentlessly whipped at business owners, this I can tell you from personal experience. The list of people with badges holding their hands out for an un-ending demand of money is mind-boggling. I don’t even like to open my front door anymore. It’s exhausting!

For me, I’m not angry at Wall Street as a whole. I know a lot of great people who do good things and need Wall Street to survive. I don’t want to see Wall street shut down and those thousands and thousands and thousands of people out of work too. The death of Wall Street would only hurt the protestors all the more.

But I’m tired of corporate giants winning while small folks lose. I’m tired of Republicans refusing to raise taxes on millionaires and billionaires that could boost our economy and at the same time watching their victims in many cases the same people who voted for them get the shaft, broke, fore-closed on, laid off you name it.

If you want to buy a home, you can’t get a mortgage.
Banks are hoarding cash and innocent Americans are watching their dreams go down the toilet.

If ever there was a time for a revolution this is it. The 99% are angry and those numbers are far too daunting to ignore.

It’s been a week of death, both in my world and out, ending with the pioneer Steve Jobs who certainly had more impact on this century the most mortals.

Today I am preparing to cater a very special wedding for a family who lost a loved one only days ago. Tomorrow I go to the synagogue for YISKOR a chance to say the prayers for the dead and honor my mother.

I told the family the story of what I was told by an artist who’s wedding was shortly after 911. He wasn’t sure whether or not it was in bad taste to hold a celebration after the death of thousands and so consulted his rabbi who said in the Talmud (ancient Jewish book of rules and customs and more) there is law that if a funeral procession and a wedding procession meet at an intersection, the wedding procession has the right of way.

The idea is simple and beautiful. It’s all about honoring the dead but always putting the priority on new love, new life, rebirth, renewal, living life.

I love this simple image of the funeral procession yielding to the wedding procession, a simple and powerful image.

And so as Yom Kippur approaches, a solemn day of fasting, mourning, forgiving, asking for forgiveness, atoning and introspection I wish you all a re-birth of love and a renewal of the strength it really takes to get thru this often tough life.

In this economy many of the people I know are tired, stressed, fed up, flustered and just ready for life to get easier. Oh the easy life…always just a turn on the highway away.

I don’t think very many people rich or poor actually have an easy life.

For me certainly life has been anything but easy, but today there is a gorgeous crispness to the early fall air and I am taking a moment to feel it on my face. The lovely sound of a rustling breeze through the trees has been usurped by the sound of a siren, but still yes, yes I can hear the trees rustle once the siren passes. There are certainly moments my dears, moments to cherish.

Peace and love to you all fasting on Yom Kippur and to you all just trying to make sense of life’s boulders.

Shana tovah
This too shall pass

10 years ago

we were innocent

we thought we were invincible

we went to work that morning probably thinking it was like most work-day mornings, unless we took a moment to notice that it was a beautiful, crisp, September morning

we drank our coffee or our tea or our smoothies and began our days

maybe we told our family we loved them, maybe we just started our day and figured those “love yous” could wait, after all, it was just another morning

just another morning to go into our routines, to perhaps walk too quickly to notice how pretty the sky was
just another day to try and make money, to tell our friends, we’re too busy to hang out or maybe not, just another day to try and make it

certainly in downtown nyc, it was just another morning for me
until a call came through on my phone from a client, but as she was starting to talk about i don’t remember what, she told me a plane had struck the world trade center

i hung up, not realizing it would be days before my phone worked again
and ran to the roof to watch the towers burning

it was no longer just another morning when i woke up my neighbors demanding they come and look, mostly to make sure that i was not dreaming
and regardless of the fact that some of those neighbors and i didn’t like each other much, we all stood together and watched in shock in horror

it was no longer just another morning, when i watched twinkling silver cards flow out from the tower and then in one gush it simply imploded in front of us, i then heard the strangest sound i’ve ever heard
an eerie whale-song kind of sound of thousands and thousands people screaming in shock for as far as the ear could hear

it was no longer just another morning
when i noticed a man who lived downstairs, who had always disliked me and the feeling was mutual place his hand on my shoulder in kindness

it was no longer just another morning
when we stood on our roof and understood together that we watched the death of thousands of people and that some of those flecks spitting out from the tower where probably much more then metal

10 years ago, i didn’t say i love you very often to people i love
10 years ago i preferred to make people laugh then make them think

i started writing my blog a week before 911 and it was supposed to be a funny rant sort of Fran Leibowitz style
i wrote one post about how i hated quiet and when it was too quiet
i felt like a thousand bankers were sitting on me

i sent it to my editor the wonderful nancy who held my hand often then and over the years
and when the planes struck the towers and she posted it for me
she wondered if it might be an eerie last word from her friend
it would be two years before i felt like being funny again
and even now i see laughter as a way to soothe the heart and open the mind
not just as blind, maybe you might like me if i crack you up, entertainment

so here we are
listening to the names being read
and taking inventory of who we are today
and how much we have changed

i am deeper, stronger, kinder then i was

who are you today?

how have you changed?

today 10 years later i still feel no sense to that terrible day
such a waste
such a lost
such a horror
but the silver lining and perhaps the only silver lining
was the bravery and kind-ness and self-less ness that came afterwards

today
10 years later
i still remember the smell
the strange ash in the air
the feeling that every moment was frozen in time
and i know now
that we really only have this moment
this moment right now that we are living in
we can never assume that tomorrow will always be there
and so we must live our life, not postpone it
live today
live now

once again
it’s a beautiful crisp morning
but this is not a morning i will take for granted

please go out and tell someone today
that you love them
be kind
be open
smell the air
and walk softly as you go
it’s a sacred day

you’re a sacred person
we all are

So here we are in September

September has always been a loaded month for me

Growing up the first day of September also announced the dreaded end of summer vacation and beginning of school. Depending on my age that was either a good thing or a terrible thing. 7th and 8th grade..terrible thing. High school – rock on.

In my 20-something era, September meant the sad end to my favorite time of year; summer. Being a life-long beach and sun worshipper end of summer meant end of Shangri-La. But then as I entered my 30’s something changed. I began to cherish the cleansing feeling of the approach of fall. The smell in the air of not so much the end of one season but the beginning of the other. I began to understand what so many before me have understood that fall is magical, but early fall when you get the fading warmth of summer and the gorgeous beckoning breeze of fall is simply delicious.

Then life happened. It was in September that I lost the most memorable, person I have ever known, my larger-then-life mom. It is in September that I go to “Shul” mostly to please her, for Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year and the beginning of the days of awe, our time of introspection, forgiveness and growth.

And of course, it was on that one crisp, perfect, magical morning that I stood on my roof and watched the world trade center burn and fall.

It was in September that the images that will probably be tattooed inside my eyes for the rest of the life were impressed; the orchestra quartet who set up to play with the dust falling around them to cheer on the first responders, the eyes of the police man who’s fingers were covered in cuts and burns, as I handed him his food. He looked haunted and vacant. The fireman I gave a chilled gator-ade too, who thanked me like I was a hero, when he was the one who was going into the still burning hole to look for fallen comrades. The army rabbi who blew the shofar in front of buildings that were still unstable for the small group who had chosen ground zero as their holy place for Rosh Hashanah and I still feel so blessed to have been amongst them, honored to be included in a group of such self-less brave kind people.

And so it is again September. The 10 year anniversary of 911 approaches, the need to buy a white candle for my mother’s yahrtzeit approaches, the beckoning of Rosh Hashanah calls once again but also today is a sunny magical morning filled with promise in which I will celebrate a new gift to fall in September, an anniversary.

Today I choose to remember once again the call of fall, the wonder of the last days of summer and the gift of opening up to new loves and new adventures.

September will probably always be for me the month to remember what was lost, but perhaps it can now hold equal ground as the month to celebrate what we have to be grateful for.

I was walking around downtown Manhattan just days ago exploring the area I love
Where the lower-east-side meets Chinatown, the area some now call Bel-del or the lower-lower east side. I love the little hood that has risen and sadly already turning uber hip around Ludlow and Broom Street and around Orchard and Hester Street but the still somewhat edgy area around East Broadway and Henry Street is the one that still holds some semblance of 1940’s Jewish immigrant life however quickly the old “Shuls” and businesses are being bought up and turned into galleries and cafes. One such building the glorious Jewish “Forward” building is of course already condoed.

Some streets in the area feel entirely Chinese, some feel like the East Village ten years ago mostly it still feels like the NYC I loved not the super clean, designer, edge-less city it is quickly becoming.

I had dragged my significant other L on this tour and she would have much preferred lunch in soho but she went along trying unsuccessfully not to mind the stench of lots and lots of garbage in the street. All of a sudden on a side street dozens of screaming Chinese people came running out of a building. One crying young woman holding a Pomeranian screamed the building is falling down. We observed dozens more Chinese people along the whole street.

“Still want to live here? I think the construction is a little shoddy!” L said.

But as we turned the block and saw hundreds of frightened people in the street it began to occur to me that this was more then one building.

A call came in my cell, one of the few calls that would come in that day due to over-kill of phone calls, my pal A called to say we were having an earthquake.

“Let’s get out to the seaport where no buildings can fall on us!” L said and so we walked to the water.

The feeling in my chest was familiar, sort of calm meeting panic and fighting for who might win. As the day progressed, I found out my building was okay, my business was okay and most importantly my friends were okay. But I could not shake the nervous feeling lodged in my chest.

New York City and earthquakes not a good combo.

Then just days later, the warning of hurricane Irene hits the news waves. At first like most folks I didn’t take it too seriously, although I did have a wedding to cater in Dumbo for a really sweet and lovely couple on Saturday… today.

The more we cooked for this wedding the worst the news got.

Mayor Bloomberg is closing the subways.
Battery Park is being evacuated.
The nervous feeling grew in my chest.
I decided to pay for cab fare to get all my waiters home if need be
anything so that the show must go on.
Being a wedding caterer means never, ever, ever konking out not matter what the odds. If the bridges had been closed, i probably would have rented a helicopter. (not really kidding)
I emailed the clients to make sure all was still going on.
No one canceled and we finished our work making sauces, marinades all sorts of great items including the best lobster salad in the world for what should have been a gorgeous wedding.

Late afternoon Friday, the groom called to cancel. There was a mandatory evacuation of the area.

My heart sank. He sounded years past a good cry, sad and defeated but eerily calm. I really like this couple and had worked heart and soul to give them a magical day. I think I felt almost as sad as he did.

So here we are, I had three flashlights, gave one to a friend in need, have two left, some candles, lots of food, water and L sleeping in the bed.

I woke up with the same nervous feeling in my chest that I have had since the earthquake and I can no longer mistake what it is, “leftover 911-itus” or maybe post traumatic stress or a roaring case of “here we go again.” Maybe these are all the same? The sky already looks dark and I hope all this will blow over easily.

I recall the big hurricane in the 80′s that was coming and we taped all our windows and nothing happened. Couldn’t get the tape off my windows for years. Mad as I’d be, I’m hoping for a big wad of nothing this weekend too.

We had tickets to broadway on Sunday for a great pal’s birthday. When I found out that even the show couldn’t go on. I knew it was bad. Wedding caterers and broadway, two acts that never cancel.

Mayor Bloomie took a lot of heat for the terrible job in the big blizzard in December, many think he’s over-reacting. I don’t know. But it’s sure scary stuff.

My friends on the Jersey shore (not that Jersey shore YUCK) were evacuated. My friends en route to Fire Island postponed their trip. My friends en route to Long Island canceled their trip. My family is safe inland and far away.

So I guess in this last bit of calm before the storm I’m feeling happy to be safe indoors, maybe not so close to the windows.

I wish you all safe, dry, warm harbor and good wishes. Love to those who need it and calm to those who can’t muster it up.

Nature is pretty scary this week, but we will prevail.

And to the sweet loving couple who did not get married today and all the many many many others who had their weddings canceled this weekend I say roll in the love you have for each other if you can, I do think this will be a story you tell your grandchildren about. I hope you will laugh when you do so. Be safe and be in love. the rest is not nearly so important.

the money goes up
the money goes down
the whole world freaks until it reboundsss and it’s a crazy trippppp
sung to the tune of what the hell is that song anyway
oh well

well kids i guess i’ve actually been around long enough to see a few ups and downs

not like my parents being depression era babies of course
but i did live thru the gas lines of the 70′s
the 80′s crazy excess when it was spend, spend spend fever
the 90′s super tanking recession when it was ruin and doom
back up again only to go for another dip after 911
back up again for a huge whopping dip in 2008
crawling back up again a little then a little more for another slap in the face
with the stock market dive this past week

so much of it is based on crappy politics
hey partisan pricks you do realize all this in-fighting and politically bull-doody has now hurt your portfolio big time!

and of course most of it is fueled by fear

fear the number one reason for loss of moolah and jobs
i say

anyway
my motto
stay honest
try to keep laughing
deep deep breaths
and stay ethical

first question of the day
can i look at myself in the mirror and feel good about it?

then take it from there

It’s hard not to be truly, deeply and maddeningly un-nerved by the news these days watching Obama try to work out a way to balance america’s dept crisis when it seems like you have republicans who just want to say no to anything he endorses, just because he endorsed it.
Oh honey’s I’m not saying there aren’t dems who do the same thing, that being, vote based on what’s good for their party and their careers and not good for the country, but right now, when we are just finally starting to crawl out of this recession, to possibly be plunged back in because jerks are playing the partisan game makes me ill.

I personally feel that anyone who refused to help out here just because of partisanship should be kicked out of office. I mean politicians are voted in with the job requirement of doing what’s’ right for America aren’t they?

But damn it’s like so few of them really seem to care if what’s right for America hurts their party!!

I’m sick of it and I know most of you are too.

Anyway its too annoying to write any further about this crapola so instead i will dwell on happier things
Like what’s going to happen to in nyc this Sunday
Something over 800 same-sex couples are expected to get married tomorrow in NY! oh man to legally marry in NYC, a dream come true and such a great huge step forward for equal rights for all!!

Oh of course the protestors will be out in full force, probably the same folks who some years back would have protested against interracial marriage or letting the Japanese out of interment camps or letting Jews into their country clubs or maybe they’re the same folks who protest against giving out condoms in third world countries to stop the spread of AIDS or maybe their the same folks who think AIDS is the proper payment for the evil of homosexuality. I’m sick of small-minded yahoos.

I think the anti-human rights protesting pricks and the yahoos who would rather see America go broke then vote against their party should all go to another planet where they can start their own in-humane world and maybe hang up a Nazi flag while they’re at it and just kill each other!

Let me just say it once to get if off my chest…. assholes!!

Sorry you know I rarely curse on this site but it was just brewing for too long!

well dears that was my purge of the moment i feel much better now
happy summer

hey kids
im out in provincetown mass
enjoying bear week
for those not in the know
hmmm how shall i explain the bear
okay well i think it was a movement against the gay male scene of waxed chest, washboard abs, zero body fat, hair done just so, teeth whitened kinda scene
basically normal, hairy, guys with beer guts were tired of being dissed
and wanted their own scene at which to meet other guys who maybe were chubby, hairy and went to barbers not hair salons
anyway the scene took off and now bear week is probably the busiest week in ptown
personally i love the bears
they love to eat
love to laugh
and like women
they’re happy and the people in town make money

probably the only drag is that line is too long for all the food places
and i did once have to leave the pool when one too many bears
caused the filter to clog from too much body hair

but hey maybe im old fashioned
i like a guy to have some body hair
a little weight on him
some muscle
but not the work out 7 days a week muscle
maybe just work out in his garage and lift a budweiser case
now and then muscle

the circuit boy scene
which happens i think around july 4
is filled with men who seem to hate women
hate food
and hate body fat

as my sister used to say Snot
Snice!

bring on the bears any day
i am goldilocks honey!

other folks in town this week
otters – which i think are bears with no body hair
cubs- which i think are small bears or young bears
and a host of other happy mammals

I believe I heard Ann Coulter say the only thing I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth that I agreed with when she asked, “Can‘t we just have a white trash station?” So that all the baby killers, wife stabbers etc etc can just be talked about on that channel and the rest of us can go back to watching the news. Or well not her exact verbiage but you get the point.

While I do agree there should just be the Jerry Springer news station. I also have to admit my dears, I got sucked in anyway, even though like so many of you, I knew Casey was guilty as hell and it would surely be an easy conviction.

But when the jury couldn’t find enough evidence to declare her guilty beyond reasonable doubt the lady got off. Certainly as shocking as OJ and the comparisons are already being made of course. Except that OJ was not white trash, some other kind of trash for sure.

I don’t understand how anyone could kill this adorable little girl. The photos of darling Caylee are haunting.

But the fact that Casey is probably about to make buckets of dollars giving interviews and to become a superstar is somehow all the more gross.

Industry folks have said she may make a million dollars for her first interview. Wow nice reward for being horrible!?

ABC has already paid her $200,000 for photos!

YECH!

If she didn’t kill darling Caylee, if the adorable two year old drowned in the pool, she certainly hid the body and lied to the police. There was a decomposing body in the trunk of her car. Chloroform in the car! She got out of jail and was sent back in for forging checks all over the place! Lying, stealing, cheating and hiding bodies! The lady is full scale gross.

The only justice served to OJ was what happened after the trial. He lost the civil case had to dole out his fortune and become the biggest loser of the century. (No disrespect to the TV show here). Nobody wants anything to do with OJ and rightfully so. I’m looking forward to seeing him panhandling on the freeway sometime soon.

I can imagine loving moms seeing Casey in the supermarket may want to run their carts into hers. Folks may want to spit on her. Okay the court of law did not have enough evidence to say, GUILTY BEYOND RESONABLE DOUBT, but I think the court of people do.

Yes in this country it’s important to stick with innocent until proven guilty. This is true of course, but I’m sorry. I just think this lady stinks on ice!