August 2005 Archives
Online Racial Power DisparitiesBy on August 28, 2005 10:47 PM | 1 Comment
As a gay man, it's hard to go through single life without loggin online at some point to meet other gay men. Some log on looking for sex. Others for dates. And still even more for just friendship and conversation.
Over the past 8 years, it's also become increasingly common for chatters to put some qualification about who exactly they are looking for in their bio line. Some boys want to talk / fuck only muscle boys. Others want to talk / fuck exclusively top men. But more common than most seems to be a racial stipulation.
These vary in quality and tone. Most often the case is "GWM for other GWM ONLY" - gay white men who only are interested in other gay white men. No matter if they're looking for friendship, sex, or relationships - that qualification applies across the board. Then there is the still all-to-common "Asian ++" or "Latino ++." Sometimes this is other Asian-American or Latino men, but more often it's white men with a fetish. And then, you have the far end of the other spectrum, "GWM for hung black tops." Unfortunately, this is just about the only time you'll see black men singled out for interaction.
Let's take a look at a few of the more tricky examples and try to tease them apart. I've gotten all these from Craigslist's online M4M bulletin board service, but removed any form of identification.
I. VGL truly versatile, very oral GM seeks 8+ black/latin/italian man - 28
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VGL GWM, masculine, truly versatile guy, 28, 5'11, 170#, lean build, HIV- , 7x5 dick seeks average to muscular BLACK/LATIN/ITALIAN GUY (ONLY!) with 8+ inches under 40 for ongoing sexual relationship (if we're feelin it) or possibly more. I'm a very passionate guy and love to kiss, but it's not required. Just want to service a nice, long cock on a regular basis, in a multitude of ways. Into J/O, oral/cock worship (I give amazing head), bottoming and topping depending on the chemistry. Love to rim also.
Comments on I: There's several interesting things about this ad. For starters, the categories he is interested in are not just racial: Italian has been added, which is by American racial standards an ethnic subgroup of "white" (though Italian may have long ago not been included under the umbrella of "white," today Italian people can identify as such). This is interesting because the stereotypes he's looking for become very clear. He wants an uber-masculine male - and for him, this can only be found in gay latin, italian, and black men. The exclusivity is also more urgent - he puts in his ad "BLACK/LATIN/ITALIAN GUY (ONLY!)" in all caps and with an exlamation marks to fend off those who might try to cross racial boundaries.
II. Masc. Bi Top Looking 4 A Cute Asian Boy - 41
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I'm a horny masc. bi blond in SF looking 4 a cute, smooth, eager asian bottom boy 2 play with. I'm very str8 acting but love hot asian boys that know how 2 take care of a big hard cock. I'm 5'11" hairy chest 210# thick 7" cut cock with a big mushroom head. I shoot big. I want 2 get sucked till I'm rock hard than work your ass long and hard. Do you want 2 be my boy? Than drop me a line with your pic/stats.
Comments on II: There is so much of this here in San Francisco. The racial tension between GWM and GAM is extremely visible and problematic here. In this ad the expectations are made perfectly clear: Asian men are expected to be bottoms that are built to serve white men's cocks. Asian-American men face a particularly heinous version of skin fetishization and humiliation. I was at a bar in the Castro once with a Filipino man when some random guy, in a failed attempt to pick him up, referred to him as "Yuengling."
This is possibly the most accepted form of online and real-world racism. Gwen Stefani sings at the end of her latest album about ending racism but also sings about Japanese women as if they were dolls for her to play with. She sings: "I'd dress them wicked / I'd give them names / Love, Angel, Music, Baby." The irony in the last track of her album in which she and Andre 3000 sing that "we've got a long way to go" to end racism isn't apparent to most listeners. Racism Gwen Stefani-style is only Black and White. The humiliation of Asian men and women as subserviant playthings is rarely looked upon suspiciously.
III.New to -------- - any GBM Tops hosting?
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New to ---------. Live near --------. How about we make our own "sideshow" at your place tonight. Only hang with well hung GBM top. Very discreet here. Like 8+ with big balls. If you got that then - then stuff that big black stick all the way down my throat. No gag reflex here. got some killer 420. Dig smokin out and fackin all night. Hit me back with a pic of your meat and let's get this party started!
Comments on III: This is particularly tricky to tease apart. When most people of think sexual racist practices between white men and black people, they might first think of the sexual domination of black women by white men (especially under slavery). The poster of this ad isn't interested in a black bottom, but a black top. The sexual positions might be different here - but ultimately the outcome is the same.
In this ad, the white man is seeking a sexually aggressive black man to fuck him. This is almost always how black men are depicted in sexual situations. They aren't depicted as caring, devoted lovers - but as deviant sexual beings that seek to fuck anything that moves. Ads like these are generally the only time online chatters single out black men for conversation or sexual interaction - they want hung black men that know how to fuck.
This certainly takes a psychological toll on black men. All you have to do is imagine what it means to be black while chatting online with other gay men. Whereas a white user may be IM'd (IM'd = sent a private message by another user) by users of all races, ages, and body types - black users are IM'd only 25% as much as white users (according to research by a fellow MA candidate, Will) and when they are IM'd by a white gay man it's most often because the white man assumes they are hung and want to fuck them.
Final Thoughts: These kinds of interactions are not limited to the internet - certainly the same assumptions get made in face-to-face encounters and have similar repercussions. However, chatting online provides a unique form of racism that make racist patterns much more readily apparent(white gay men don't walk around often with shirts reading "other GWM only"). Also, whereas a person may talk with 5 or 6 people at a bar, they may instant message 40 people in a given evening. That can mean being rejected by 30 men as opposed to 3 or 4. Also, at a bar it takes a lot of gumption to refuse to speak with someone who approaches you. Online, it only takes a click of a button.
All of this certainly amounts to a damning indictment for gay white men who use the internet to talk to others. Often gay men defend this kind of racial specificity with comments like "nothing personal or poltiical, just a preference" - but comments like that are far from innocent. They fail to analyze where preferences like these come from. Attraction and desire are just as susceptible to societal norms and biases as other human emotions can be. After all, let's remember that Marilyn Monroe, the sexy vixen of just a few decades ago, would now be a plus-sized model at best.
Racism bleeds into attraction, too. And it's not alone - conceptions of class and masculinity get tied up with racial issues. We saw that one ad was interested in Latin / Black / Italian men because it was, for him, a sign of masculinity. Moreover, it's probable that many of the GWM for GWM ads are not just about race, but also about class and sexual health. In some white people's eyes, all people of color are poor, unclean, and sexually reckless. Media depictions of people of color, especially black men, do little to refute these stereotypes. "Cops", anyone?
My FIRST Day as a Graduate StudentBy on August 26, 2005 12:55 AM | 1 Comment
And I love it! Yesterday (Wednesday) kicked off my career as a San Francisco State University Graduate Student. My schedule looks like this:
Tues (4:10 PM - 6:55 PM): Foundations in Human Sexuality
Wed (4:10 PM - 6:55 PM): Research Methods in HMSX Studies
Thurs (4:10 - 6:55 PM): Sexuality and the Internet
How fucking awesome is that schedule? To top it off, my cohort (or the other 14 students in my graduate year) is so amazing. After our orientation on Tuesday we went out for drinks and dinner with a bunch of the second-year students and I met some amazing personalities. I got a chance to talk for a while with an incredible second-year who is studying fat burlesque dancers in the city for her thesis. She mentioned that the Dove "Real Women" campaign (featuring, *gasp*, size 10 and 12 "real" women who aren't models professionally) had driven some to put stickers up on the ads saying "Future Type 2 Diabetes." Size 10! Fuck I hate the anti-body regime that is Corporate America.
Our cohort is a diverse bunch in terms of research interests, though the fact that only 2 people of color are included among our group of 15 has me and others worried. It not only leaves conversations on race and issues that race impacts (like, oh yea, everything) virtually incomplete but also puts a great deal of pressure on the two people there to speak for their entire race. I think the group seems to be at least attuned to these issues so I think we can work through two years succesfully.
Last night I had the pleasure of going out one-on-one with another cohort member, Jesse, who hails from NYU where he studied dance. He's the sole arts person in the program and I was happy to meet and hang out with him. We talked about how social scientists often see research and traditional methods of communicating that research as the only legitimate form of work. However, some of the most fascinating stuff I have scene has been performance art BASED on social science research (see, for instance, this blog entry RE: a play by Eric Rofes) - which will, in turn, present the research to a whole range of people who would absolutely never pick up an academic book or journal. I'm glad to have him amung us, for sure. We drank and talked on a pretty quiet Wednesday night over in the Mission at a bar called Cama and then chowed down @ Bagdad Cafe (which, as we noted, was strangely misspelled).
This Saturday both first and second-years are getting together at a second-year's house for a barbeque afternoon drinkfest dubbed "Dirty in Pink." Fuck - I have to go buy a pink shirt.
Pat Robertson Calls for Chavez AssasinationBy on August 24, 2005 6:15 AM | No Comments
In what can only be called a bold display of Christian values, longtime right-wing religious fanatic Pat Robertson called for the assasination of Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez.
On his bizarre TV talk show, "The 700 Club," Robertson had this to say: "If he thinks we're trying to assassinate him, I think we really ought to go ahead and do it."
Robertson helped found the Christian Coalition and has for many years been near the forefront of the radical Christian right-wing. It was also on his show that just days after the September 11th attacks that longtime buddy Reverend Jerry Falwell blamed the attacks on queer people and feminists: "I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'" Robertson seemed to agree, noting in prayer that "The Supreme Court has insulted you over and over again, Lord."
Time Magazine has quickly put up a piece on their website explaining why comments like Robertson's will actually only serve to further Chavez's interests in Venezuela and Latin America. As the article says, comments like this from the US just give Chavez more Che-style street cred down South.
In doing so, comments like Robertson's also serve to further divert attention from human rights issues in the country, of which Human Rights Watch has this to say.
But moreover, it just shows how FUCKED UP the Christian Right is. Values my foot. Calling for the assasination of a *democratically* elected world leader (or any person for that matter) is pretty dubious in the eyes of any Christian Lord I've heard of.
Robertson's comments bring me back to the current chapter of Inga Muscio's book that I'm reading titled "God Told Me To Kill You." Her words echo in Robertson's career:
"This 'god' charachter has allegedly been speaking to Presidents at highly convenient times for a while. At the close of the nineteenth century, President McKinley got down on his knees and prayed for 'god's' guidance when seeking a rationale for invading the Phillipines. And 'god' said unto his white kowtowing racist ass, 'Kill them all and let me sort them out.' And this was done. Countless people died, and a country already seriously molested by Spanish colonization was further traumatized and has been divided ever since."
Our current President, of course, denies any connection to Robertson's statements. But you know - I just imagine a phone conversation between Bush and Robertson after the comments going something like this:
Bush: "Pat - you know that I appreciate your longtime support from the Christian Coalition. You bunch hold a special place in my oily heart. But really, Pat - don't go tellin' people about our plan to kill Mr. Chavez..."
He would be briefly interrupted here by a loud whine from Robertson but would continue in a tender tone, "I know - Listen, I know Pat. Offing God's dissict.. dissentors is what I'm all about. We just don't talk about it on national television."
Pat: "But Buuuuuuuuuuuuush - you know that God wants us to strike him down for his unforgivable sins against our Lord and Savior. His will is no mystery to you or I. You know that."
Bush: "Pat, I won't hear any more. How's this. If you quit talking about killing people on national television, I promise I won't steal anymore chickens out of your henhouse at next week's poker match - you get me?"
A loud voice would then break through on Bush's side of the phone.
Bush, yelling away from the phone, "Coming, Dear!" Turning back to Pat, "Aw fuck, Pat. Just when we start getting to the good stuff the misses is calling for me to come to dinner. Listen - I gotta run. No more calls for the murder of national leaders on TV?"
Robertson: "Oh, alright, George. Send Laura my best."
Inga Muscio on Columbus DayBy on August 19, 2005 5:56 AM | 1 Comment
Just had to post this before bed - it made my day:
"Oh yea, and let's boycott the sacred motherfuckall out of his holiday.
It is a blatant white supremacist propaganda community celebration where banks, schools, and post offices are closed, and parades honoring a known rapist / murderer meander down city streets. It is an annual jab in the heart for all sovereign indian nations and everyone who doesn't think it's a good idea to view the world like it is your personal home improvement, investment project, or business plan. It is a symbolic, historically based present-day backslapping gladfest for everyone who defines "the fittest" as the most unscrupulous, the greediest, the most racist and elitist white-identified alpha males in what is subsequently considered to be a dog-eat-dog world.
Fuck Columbus Day."
-Inga Muscio from The Autobiography of a Blue-Eyed DevilThe Politics of a Handbag
By on August 18, 2005 7:21 AM | No Comments
I carry a fake Louis Vuitton handbag on occasion. I got it in Hong Kong for $5 in a street market hawking a variety of goods. Tonight I happened to have it at my side, as I often do, whilst having a cocktail at the Bar on Castro. I sat down by myself to enjoy a moment watching people when a man standing up leans in to inspect my bag.
"It's very fake," I readily admit. It doesn't really look real - it's one of the brown check bags and the real version has the designer's name written on every other block.
The man standing gives me a snooty look and responds with a French accent, "I know it's fucking fake. I work for fucking Louis Vuitton."
Annoyed, I smile and respond pleasantly but forcefully. "Well that was nice and snotty." He sneers and leans in to the woman he was talking with, "At least he's forward."
He eyes me for a quick moment and says directly, "You know little children fucking made that bag." I try to respond and question whether his employer was so innocent when it came to sweatshops, but he wasn't interested in that conversation. With a forced smile and a handshake, he was gone.
Okay - I admit readily that my fake bag was, indeed, probably made under dubious circumstances. I bought the bag in a market chock full of various imiation goods in Southeast Asia. It's bound to have come from a factory employing people under less-than-pleasant settings. I understood this when I bought it.
The politics of that sale are complicated. It's likely that the woman I bought it from was not an owner of a sweatshop, but a struggling woman trying to make a living who bought the bags from a middle person that runs between the factories and the hawkers. Were I to not buy the bag, the woman would be out $5. I didn't negotiate the price as is standard practice there - I felt silly trying to knock $0.50 off a bag I clearly could afford.
Was I indirectly supporting sweatshops? Yes. Is every person in the US at one time or another bound to indirectly support sweatshops? Certainly. It's nearly impossible to live a consumer life free from interaction with goods with questionable origins.
Moreover, I had to wonder if I had been sitting at the bar with an actual real Louis Vuitton, would that have made a better statement? Somehow I question the sanctity of a handbag no larger than a soccer ball that costs upwards of $1000. Whose pockets do those sales fill? It's clear that the salesperson who was so offended by my bag is not the person benefitting from a given sale. Maybe they get commision - but that's not where the real money's made. Nor is it the person who spent time constructing the bag by hand. It's at the top. Corporate suits.
I thought it strange that salespeople at stores like Louis Vuitton feel so entitled to a class status that is obviously not connected to their actual incomes. This is true for any upscale retailer. They pay their employees crap, but they pay them to act like they're fashionistas with money. I doubt the man who turned his nose at me was really able to afford any of the merchandise he sold himself.
Class is a funny thing. For a lot of Americans, it's all show. People barely scraping by can go out and buy an Isaac Misrahi at Target and a used BMW - surrounding themselves in goods that make it seem as if they are actually living a life of luxury. The truth of the matter is, though, that if they were laid off and spent a month unemployed they would lose their shirt (not to mention their house). As decently paying blue collar jobs continue to move offshore, only to be replaced by minimum wage service industry jobs, more Americans are going to find this to be their reality.
In any case, I know that I'm playing into that facade by carrying my Fouis. Clearly I can't afford the real thing. Mine doesn't even look real. For me - that wasn't the issue. It was a cute, functional accessory. But just by carrying the bag - for those who recognize it -I'm saying something else as well about my class and social status. It's complicated and I can't quite sort it all out here at 5 AM. Thoughts?
London Public Execution Inquiry NeededBy on August 17, 2005 5:59 AM | No Comments
New reports are coming out that shed more light upon the police execution of a misidentified Brazilian who was shot seven times in the head upon boarding a subway car in London on July 22. The story reeked of police brutality from the start - as reports kept shifting as to whether or not De Menezes was actually involved in terrorism.
ITV News has released a report based on "secret evidence" it has obtained (photos, witness accounts) that say De Menezes, contrary to police statements, was acting quite normally before being publicly executed. He did not, as was widely reported, jump any barriers. Their report even states that he stopped to pick up a newspaper! Worse yet, he was wearing a LIGHTweight jacket - not a heavy coat as was initially reported. It seems that nothing the police initially reported was, in fact, accurate at all.
All this adds up to at least a serious lack of judgment and at worst an egregious attack on human rights in London. It is clear evidence that our governments are quick to step on human rights in the name of freedom (Patriot Act, anyone?).
You can read more about this developing story from various news sources:
BBC News, CNN, the NY Times, and the UK Times.
I can play pool! Well, sord of.By on August 16, 2005 9:21 PM | No Comments
After two weeks of NEVER having stepped outside the Castro (minus one trip to the Haight for dinner), I finally spent many hours exploring different parts of the city.
I started my day off in Union Square downtown where I did some shopping solo. This city is too small - I ran into a boy at Macy's that I had made out with just the night at the Bar. Oy vey. After a few hours and $200 evaporated on cologne and t-shirts, I caught up with my friend Gino and we ventured to Chinatown for dinner. This was interesting - we spent quite a bit of time just walking around trying to figure out what a good restaurant was and what it wasn't. Most of the restaurants were panhandling - and while I wasn't sure if this was a sign of good or bad things, we finally found a place we felt comfortable with. We made a good choice - dinner was pretty good and satisfied my crazy cravings for Chinese food that I've had since I've been in the city.
Post-dinner, I waddled back down to the Castro where I met up with Troy and Hunter at the Bar on Castro. We had a drink or two there and then sped away towards the Cinch, a relic of a club up on Polk Street. It was very chill, with maybe 15 people at the place during its busiest moment that night. The most spectacular event of the day had to of been the moment I enthusiastically agreed to play pool with Hunter and Troy. I haven't played pool in some time, and after two pitchers of Margharitas it was all the more difficult. Needless to say, I lost every game (and believe me, we played more than a handful of rounds).
In any case, it was exciting to step outside of this bubble we've landed in called the Castro. It's surprisingly easy to get sucked in and spend every waking moment here. Thank goodness school starts soon!
"No - I live down Airport Road"By on August 12, 2005 4:05 AM | No Comments
I've just picked up Inga Muscio's latest book, Autobiography of a Blue-Eyed Devil (thanks Win Chesson for the rec!) and I stumbled upon a paragraph early on that struck me. She writes:
"One starts to wonder why exactly it just so happens that almost every US street, building, and landmark that isn't named after Rosa Parks, Pocahontas, Cesar Chavez, or Martin Luther King Jr. is named after a white person."
While not directly related to her point, it immediately pressed play in my brain and a recent memory flashed in my thoughts over and over and over again.
It happened just before I left Chapel Hill. Recently the Chapel Hill Town Council put forth a measure to rename the artery that goes from downtown Chapel Hill to I-40. The road had for years been known as "Airport Road" as it passed right by, no surprise, an airport.
UNC is again planning to expand - this time by building a new campus right over the old Airport. So it makes sense that the name for the road might not be so appropriate anymore. In a gesture of good faith, the Town Council proposed the name be changed to "Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd." Good faith measure. Appropriate time to change the name. Simple, right?
Wrong. A small ruckus ensued that led to public hearings and much squawking about the change. Eventually the Town Council won out and the name was officially changed - but resentment lingered.
That's where my memory comes in. Me and a friend were standing on campus talking to another friend about her new apartment. Asked where she lived, she told us that she lived "just down Airport Road." At that point I corrected her and said "Oh you mean Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd.?" With a slight chuckle, she gave a knowing smirk and said "No - I live down Airport Road."
Jackass that I am, I didn't realize quite how heinous that comment was at the time. What - really - was her damn problem? Muscio's point is well taken - a handful of People of Color's names litter a tiny number of streets and buildings, while oodles of White peoples' names litter the country to "honor their memories." Any old white person deserves to be remembered. But not - indeed - any old person of color.
The fact that is name has become slapped on the names of streets in towns across America does not mean Martin Luther King Jr. should not be honored in Chapel Hill. It's thanks to his efforts that we can continue to say with some confidence that Chapel Hill is the liberal bastion of the South. It would be irresponsible of the town, then, to not recognize that reality.
In any case, I should have questioned the woman's motives. It was such a blatant moment of hey-you're-white-you-understand-what-I-mean "buddy-buddy" racism. In the South it happens quite frequently - but even here in California people assume that as a white person I'm going to "understand" when they make a heinously racist remark. Sometimes you have to look hard - the remarks are often cloaked under the veil of seemingly non-debatable issues like crime, poverty, or drug use - or, as in my case - the name of a road. If you're properly attuned, though, you can begin to clearly see the web of comments that buttress American racism.
In the end - I was the real jerk. I said nothing. Her racism left unchecked, she would undoubtedly repeat the line time and time again in the future - reassuring the white people of Chapel Hill that she really understood.
Bush: Quote of the DayBy on August 10, 2005 4:01 PM | No Comments
When signing the whopping $286.4 billion Highway Bill into law, Bush gave this as reasoning: "I mean, you can't expect your farmers to be able to get goods to market if we don't have a good road system," he said. "You can't expect to get these Caterpillar products all around the United States if we don't have a good road system."
You know - repeating oneself and intermittingly naming brands is reportedly the first sign in the transition to becoming an automaton.
QAF: The End of an EraBy on August 8, 2005 3:49 AM | No Comments
When Queer as Folk debuted on Showtime, I was the ripe old age of 16. I sat downstairs quietly in the computer room watching the explicit sex scenes - remote in hand in case my parents wandered in the room. The scenes reflected a world I was just beginning to peek my head into - I had managed to squander a fake ID and was just starting to venture into the gay bars of my hometown in Charlotte, NC (I actually manufactured my first, a fake membership to a club, at Kinko's).
The sex on the show got my pubescent hormones raging. I had certainly by that point seen more than my fair share of gay porn (and had two years prior lost my virginity), but the fact that this show was on TV and was a regular series made the sex scenes all the more erotic for me. The fact that my parents could stumble by at any moment I'm sure made the experience all the more enticing.
I've been known to knock the show for it's cheesy moments and tendencies to try to tackle *every* L/G/B/T/Q issue out there - but standing in The Midnight Sun (a gay bar in the Castro that's been a landmark since the 70s), I was struck by my own sadness to see it go off the air. Though different in oh so many ways - the character Justin and I went through many of the same struggles at many of the same times. When he was first coming out, so was I. When he was going to his first gay bar - I was there with him. Even now at the end we're moving away to new places and new lives - leaving behind friends, family, and loved ones. New beginnings for us both.
Despite what I may have said before, I have to say I'll miss Queer as Folk. I haven't actually watched the show for several seasons - but I knew it was there should I choose to watch. It was somewhat comforting to know that the show was still moving forward, its characters changing just as much as I was. With it gone, all gay men have left to look forward to on television is Will and Grace. And, however bad QAF may have gotten at times, it never sank to the deep depths of mainstream blandness that NBC offers. That as the only option, my friends, is one damn depressing thought.
For now, I'll stick with "The L Word."
My Advocate Article is OnlineBy on August 4, 2005 1:26 PM | No Comments
It's been up for a while I just forgot to post the link:
here
Enjoy!
By on August 4, 2005 1:17 PM | No Comments
Sitting on my new bedroom floor, I was frustrated by the fact that all my neighbors were wise enough to put passwords on their wireless networks. And then I had a stroke of genious - go to the kitchen, a voice in my head said. And so I did - with my laptop, of course. And voila! Wireless is here.
Troy and I arrived here in San Francisco Tuesday evening around 5:30 PM after a 50 hour trek across America. It was actually really a pretty easy drive - no traffic, no problems. Yesterday we stopped by Costco and dumped a large sum of money on a carload of household needs. Today is IKEA - we have a 3:00 PM appointment with Michelle, their Home Furniture Coordinator. She'll help us pick out stuff for our house - at no cost to us! Wew-hew!
I'll hopefully take some pictures of the place and post them here as soon as possible. Keep an eye out. :)
By on August 1, 2005 11:16 PM | 1 Comment
Well after 20 hours of driving I can say that we've finally made it half way. I've just woken up from a quick stay in an Amarillo, Texas (Google Map) hotel where we stopped to take a break from the drive. We'll have some dinner and keep trekking - expecting to make it to San Francisco around dinner time Tuesday.
We've had a lovely drive so far - it's gone quite quickly. We stopped at a Waffle House in rural Tennessee and chatted it up with a surly woman named Lorretta who says she used to live in Hollywood (Pine and Hollywood, to be precise). Somewhere in Western North Carolina we were driving (me with my giant pink sunglasses on) and look over to see a rather handsome young man flashing a big smile over. I mouthed over to him "Hey, baby" - we clearly break out in laughter and almost ran off the rode. The young man slowed down as to avoid our gaze further. Good times.
The best moment of the trip yet had to be, though, when I popped in the CD I burned before I left of my favorite Disney tunes - including such hits as "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid, "I Just Can't Wait to be King" from The Lion King, and "One Jump Ahead" from Aladdin. Oh, if only you could have seen it. It included a personal performance from myself - a one night only gig I must say - of "Poor Unfortunate Souls." I thought I made a rather dashing Ursula. As for Troy, he gave a stunning debut singing the opening song from Beauty and the Beast ("Bonjour!"). It was really something to see. Do ask him to repeat it; you might just find yourself the lucky guest at a Disney musical review. As for me, like I said it was a one night only gig.
In any case, we must depart. San Francisco or bust!