Joshua Cactus

The Clash

2017-11-09T15:03:00.004-08:00

When two American tribes collided in Charlottesville, the collision was ugly, people died, bones were broken and windows smashed. A zealot drove his dark sports car into the crowd, probably believing himself to be on a holy quest to save the fatherland. Were his victims no longer fellow Americans? Was all he saw as he stormed the narrow alley, just a hostile mass of enemy combatants, a clear and present danger that needed to be crushed?
I have seen that transformation taking place too many times. I have met those who so easily became self-proclaimed Just Avengers.
From the Middle East to Virginia, the Causes change but the Metamorphosis is always the same. Righteous Philosophers set a wooden stage laced with heaps of straw, Demagogues and masters of crowds light a spark and feed the growing flames and then the Converts execute.

Note to self; beware of old barns.

The Time Tunnel

2017-08-12T17:43:00.001-07:00

Today I journeyed through the time tunnel. I should have been wearing a dark turtleneck and lots of hairspray like Doug or Tony but 95 degrees of Georgia summer does not play well with neither turtlenecks or a perfect do. But I digress. Today I discovered again these perfectly preserved notes of the Before blog. It was a sweet journey down the time tunnel. I think it is time for the After blog.

City of Angeles

2014-05-01T00:53:00.001-07:00

Nine moons in this flat hot city. Working with a team of overachievers tired from the onslaught of a relentless jet lag. We all got sorta accidentally to fill hurriedly vacated gaps and always maintain the allurid professional continuum. This project tested our inner marathoner and mostly our flexible accommodating self. Brief commitments hardly woa calendar entry accumulated slowly to a tra formative effort.

Frequent Flyer

2014-02-23T16:24:00.001-08:00

Two years as a flying consultants. Since moving to Miami I hopped off the clinical wagon and joined a group of talented hard working folks making it across America. At first it was all exciting and glamorous but at the months and air miles go no longer all airlines seem the same. Based in Miami and commuting ( or jet setting if you will) all across this great land. And it's Big! Next: Delta Vs American Airlines.

Restart

2013-05-21T15:43:00.001-07:00

Two years since my last post. Lazy bastard. No longer in the Empire state but a proud resident of the ever-sunny-yet-quirky Florida. After years in the big apple with occasional expeditions to the sunshine state our little family (two guys and a dog) packed our lives once more and migrated south full time for a fresh start. We survived a painful separation (long story - deserves its own post) and escaped the concrete towers to a new lush land full of trees, water, giant reptiles and Latinos. Having no state tax helped as well.
Almost two years later it looks like the smartest choice I made so far in America.

The Interview Dillema

2010-03-02T10:23:00.002-08:00

After many days and nights of strategic planning and careful execution (some might call it Chuzpa, stubborn or even plain dumb) the interview for this fab new job is coming up. Passed the recruiter with the silver hair ("sorry darling you need more LOCAL experience"), the ever so busy assistant and the always full schedule of the big boss and now its time to impress and be brilliant yet humble, friendly yet professional. Time to give your best shot. Alas, the boss is a conservative guy, he has the cross and manners to show for it, he's got a wall full of photos of well groomed kids and smiling wife in a non-revealing attire, he is a the great American Family Man, and he is about to ask you about yours. Hmmm, problemo. I don't have kids (a small dog doesn't count with traditional types), my wife is a husband and I do not go to PTA meetings. Forget about a favorite sports team (unless you count Project Runway) or trips to Disney Land (again, gay days doesn't count). If I tell him about my beloved husband and summers in Fire Island Pines I will most probably get tossed out with a nod. Nothing too overt, nothing too direct, but tossed out just as well. If I lie, well that's a bad start for a long term relationship. I know that I do well on this job, I know that once I get in the homo-factor will not matter anymore, but that first interview is a what poets call "a conundrum". What shall I do?

Don't Ask Don't Tell Because We Don't Care

2009-12-07T15:46:00.006-08:00

Image from Yossi and Jagger, a must-view film for any DADT fan

Almos three years in America, land of the free, and I am still amazed by the fear and homophobia rampant in great parts of this great country. Today, while attending an important meeting in my washroom, I read yet another story of a US Army soldier who was brave enough to tour Iraq and Afghanistan three times (!!) but alas his attraction to bulging biceps and hairy male chests (ok, some women have that too) got him kicked out, disgraced, from the armed forces. The story brought back vivid closeted and un-closeted memories from my own 5 year tour at the Israeli Defense Forces (IDF) as an officer in a combat unit. No, I wasn't in the army's choir or orchestra, neither was I stationed as some General's secretary in a carpeted office, I did the real thing, dirty nails and all. As a young officer I joined an armored corps battalion and every few months rotated with my unit to another frontier: Gaza, Lebanon, the West Bank or the Jordan Valley. My unit was 95% male and was far removed from the liberals of Tel Aviv or the walls of academia. At first I was reluctant to share any details of my personal life and the constant nonstop use of colorful homophobic nouns (and verbs! Hebrew is a very creative language) all around me sure didn't help in coming out. But it was not the official policy that stopped me. The IDF has no policy on sexual orientation since 1992. More accurately put, the official policy is "Don't Tell or Do Tell - Who Cares?" (It was an old veteran, Yitzhak Rabin, who established this inclusive policy and the army never looked back since). As the army became my new home (defunct, not perfect, but still a home of sorts) and I grew closer to fellow soldiers my secretive life became less and less covert. As I met more and more army buddies in the gay cafes of Tel Aviv I slowly realized that not only no one really cares about my sex life, I am also not alone in my mary (yet butch!) gay ways. Gosh, I even met my first serious LTR boyfriend in the army. Different units and all but still in uniform.

One hot sunny afternoon, when only the desert flies were showing any signs of life, I approached my commanding officer, a sturdy battle-worn army colonel, and told him that my boyfriend is getting promoted tomorrow (oy vey, another gay officer) and I wanted to take a day leave to attend the ceremony at his unit. The colonel didn't even flinch and approved my leave with a wary smile. During the following weeks I shared my great secret with other fellow officers and the earth didn't shake, I didn't lose a single friend and even more, as the word spread, soldiers would approach me and share stories or ask for advice. Finally I was open and honest, breathing free air, and never once had a reason to regret. The army has a funny way of distilling the essence of people. Very quickly tight bonds are formed and at least in my experience, these bonds are based on what kind of a person you are, are you reliable, will you save my ass in dark nights, will you stand by me, and who cares if you also take a quick appreciative glimpse. True, effeminate soldiers are not always as lucky and the struggle is continues but at least it is at surface level and the system protects you.

Israel is not the most liberal or leftist country on earth. It has strong religious minorities with heavy political influence, endless Red Level security threats and a war at least once a decade. That is probably the reason that the IDF does not enjoy the luxury of disqualifying soldiers who do not enjoy the occasional Hooters issue or "College sorority girls gone wild" flick. Once everyone realized that, DADT became Don't Ask because Who cares?

First day of winter in Gotham

2009-12-05T18:26:00.003-08:00

Today Mr Winter arrived in the city. The temperature hit new lows, the rain dropped little knives to every nook and cranny and for a short while fluffy white flakes graced the sidewalks. We braved the elements and made all sorts of funky arrangements and chores. Today's special was a surprise visit to the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT to us queers folk). As part of a new "Discover New York and surprise your spouse" plan I have secretly developed in the dark labs of Hells' Kitchen. The plan is simple, at least once a week one of us will pick a spot in Gotham and take his metaphorically blind folded husband there. The definitions are very relaxed, any place will do as long as its interesting, new and hopefully does not involve buying shoes or Apple products. FIT did well.

Macy's promised but I don't Believe

2009-12-03T09:12:00.003-08:00

For the holiday season Macy's found a new motto: "Believe". Well I don't. About a year ago we bought a bedroom set from Macy's flagship store in NY. We were offered an extended warranty but the cost was staggering so we declined thinking that the one year warranty included was enough. How wrong we were. Within about 10 months the bed started to creak and on month 13 it was falling apart. Not just a little creak or moan, but breaking underneath us. Sounds sexy? It isn't, its actually kinda scary when your bed feels unsafe. So at about a year and so I called them up and asked for help, it's Macy's after all, and I am a believer. Similar bedroom could have probably been found for half the price, but we wanted quality. Man we were wrong! The Macys agent on the phone told us we are out of warranty by three weeks and tough luck. When I talked about safety issues the line went mute and no new answer. Then came the supervisor, and she was not that pleasant and very adamant, it is OUR problem. For the thousands of dollars we spent, she gracefully extended a 10% discount for a new bed. I bet you that if we actually fell and hurt ourselves, the answer would have been given in court and would have been very different. For the holiday season, DON'T BELIEVE IN MACY'S! If you want to get crappy service and rigid policies buy your furniture at half price in any street corner, don't bother with Macy's. I don't believe anymore.

Post Frisco

2009-11-20T17:41:00.005-08:00

Back to Gotham after a long weekend in San Francisco. The official reason was a conference but we managed to shove some major sights and long nights to the stew. This weekend was about reconnecting, finding back our romantic loving selves, almost a salvage mission. Did it work? no clear answer. Some moments were amazing, exciting, embracing. Others were tense, wicked, almost nasty. It's like there are four people in this relationship, two of me and two of him (JC+, JC- and R+, R-). The resulting matrix is a complex combination of explosive love and vicious hurt. When one of us is loving and needing, the other is not necessarily playing the same role and these moments of of JC+/R- or vice versa are tough to handle. Scars are created each time and the worst possible combo of JC-/R- tends to come up more and more often. We talked about therapy, both individual and as a couple, maybe the answer lies there, maybe not. Crossing into our third year together the similarities that once united us are not as clear and the friction points are intensified. Living in our small condo isolated from family and homeland adds another dimension and makes most choices very dramatic and long reaching. For the first time in my life, a real personal conundrum. Perhaps we are just two drama queens who thrive on this roller coaster? Love, lust and attraction are definitely there but what about the rest?

Back, I'm back!

2009-11-07T12:55:00.003-08:00

For almost a year now I haven't posted. Reasons are not important as they go under the 'excuses' clause. It is a beautiful Saturday afternoon in Gotham, the sun is shining and the air feels clean and crisp, about time for a renewal.

During the last two weeks R and I had a major crisis. All the elements of a high caliber drama were there: sex, jealousy, love, career, life, even kids somehow got involved (future kids my dear reader). We had to make a decision and we chose to re-choose our life together. We experimented in the danger zone, broke our own rules by inviting an outsider to our bed who happened to live near by (a big no no for us so far) and had to live with the consequences. We fell apart then glued ourselves together again. This crisis was by far our worst, but we came out clean, sober, and more mature in our love. A new life together based on new axioms was born.

Miami paradise

2008-12-06T08:56:00.004-08:00

We escaped Gotham for a quick weekend in the southern tip. Quick indeed, using my man's (almost) free stand-bye air tickets we lurked in JFK until a vacant seat heading to the sunshine was located and hopped on. After a few relatively cheerful hours on a JetBlue plane, where lots of carb rich snacks were poured to our laps by a friendly M2F look alike attendant, we hit a dazzling Florida sunset, loose clothing and looser attitude. Our hotel, a party-central boutique on Collins Ave was composed of a bar and suspiciously looking rooms you might expect in a Dutch steam house. All the necessities were there: kinky bed with dark velvety covers, large flat TV, overflowing minibar and a shelf of the "essentials" for the busy traveler: condoms, lube and munchies.
The lobby bar features a host of VERY liberated Israeli staff, a pleasant surprise. They were well informed on all matters party-related: where are the hot boys, which beach is essential, when are the happy hours and the like. At 7 pm we hit the bar and continuously gulped for a while. Next I remember, it was morning.
The next night, after an exciting work out in a local Crunch branch boasting South Beach's best bronzed torsos, we headed to the main attraction which sparked this escape: The Offer Nissim et Peter Rauhafer gathering of the tribe. Under the roof of Mansion, a large and sexy dark heaven, we danced, touched, talked and rubbed noses with a happy sensual crowed, two sweaty bodies in a sea of gorgeous men. The life!

Green Green Card

2008-11-23T11:05:00.002-08:00

The time has come to dig into the Manhattan bedrock. After about 18 months in the land of the free I am now the proud retainer of an unorthodox yet savvy immigration attorney. He is supposed to be a top gun but has a somehow unusual manner. The office, located in a Park Avenue scraper, has all the usual trappings of dinero (the sexy aide, the chrome and marble lobby) but the big man himself has a thrift shop cargo pants and a T-shirt. I knew right away we will get along.
So, 2500$ later, with about 6K more to go, I started the elusive journey to be an American, ie. started Naturalization! Isn't that awesome? From being an unnatural to becoming a natural.
What next? Papers.

Alegria - no longer the real thing

2008-05-25T08:42:00.008-07:00

Alegria was back in town last night. The legendary line by Ric Sena was hosted at Webster Hall in midtown. As a happy veteran of Alegria in it's Crawbar days I got the tix, rallied my buddies and headed to the party excpecting the heavy sexy atmosphere of a multitude of built sweaty bodies and the great sounds that make a night to remember. Boy was it a dissappointment!
Ok, 70$ a ticket I can live with. Lots of preps go into such a night. But what did we get for that?
Webster Hall has many rooms and levels promising an exciting venue but only a few of them were used, the rest were corded and guarded by uniforms (not the sexy type uniform but the MTA types that make sure you don't skip the lines at the subway). Same uniformed guards kept moving through the crowd making sure no one was offending some hard core Red neck values: No smooching, no too much touching, no venturing into dark alcoves, no cigarettes, no, no, no...
Drinks were expensive and the bar lines just plain pushy, again not the rub against me with a half smile pushy, but the I-was-waiting-for-that-cab pushy. Last drink was served at 4, kinda sad for a party meant to go for at least a few more hours. And did I mention smoking? That was the highlight in this newly founded Subway system atmosphere. No smoking anywhere! No balconies, no secret garden or roof top, nada, and NO GOING OUT either. So for those poor souls still enjoying a smoke with their beer, it was like being on an endless flight with a very low frills airline to Disney in the height of season: Pay, get processed with the multitudes, move along and go away while holding your breath the whole time. The music was ok, but no warm fuzzy feeling, no hot and heavy, just ok.
Organizers of events such as Alegria should try to remember what was it like when they were the party goers. We are not just a bunch of credit cards waiting to be processed. I can get that on Spirit Air.

Ochtch Lingo

2008-04-12T19:11:00.004-07:00

Here is a short clip that somehow captured almost all of the gay (ochtch) lingo of Tel Aviv. The Gevald Girls at the Evita bar. Viewer discretion recommended.

He said Yes

2008-04-01T20:17:00.004-07:00

Finally I am back to the keyboard. It's a fancy one, all white and shiny, reflected in the shimmering new iMac screen that proudly dominates my desk. It calls for re-blogging.
Today R said yes. The question answered was about another ring, this time of gold. So finally, at the respectable age of 33 I am getting married. Our journey together so far had all the hallmarks of a steamy Latin soap produced in a shabby Rio favela. We went through love so intense it hurt my brain, through hate and anger, through cheating, snooping, hugging, fucking, begging, nirvana.
Is he the man for this cactus? He is all I wanted but there is an edge. I think the edge keeps us moving. There is always some abyss waiting around the corner, there is also a royal peek and most of the time there is just bliss of the purest variety. A good friend told me recently to feel when it's right. It is right.

Appericiate what you have

2008-01-19T18:31:00.000-08:00

Shaping the future

2008-01-15T18:43:00.000-08:00

The quest for the American dream took a positive turn this week as two career paths are opening up. One with a large hospital, one with a small start-up company. Both seem interested, both are willing to sponsor my visa, both have great people but they go in opposite directions. Going with the small company means taking a head plunge to the business world, leaving behind any patient contact. With the hospital it is another stage in a large institution, limited by corporate ladders and red-tape but safe in my journey.
My boss was helpful and friendly when I told him of these options. He even suggested his help. Is there a turn of events with him? Maybe all that hard work is paying off.
Surpressing my immediate need for celebratory shopping I tracked home through the cold bright streets of Manhattan. Oof.

Back to blogging

2008-01-14T18:53:00.001-08:00

Took me two months to get back here. Mostly due to re-adjusting to life with a partner. We had to draw the lines of privacy, to overcome drama, to make lots of love, to hate, to make up.
Now that I know he is reading this blog I feel different about writing, but we have removed so many barriers in the last few months that it feels safe again to write.
So, it's winter in the big apple. The streets are frozen, people run around frantically to the nearest Starbucks (and there is one on every corner), and life has changed it's pace. Work is comfortable, the dismays of September are gone, there is a feeling of collaboration and finally even friendship. I am out of every imaginable closet, at work, at home, on the streets of Manhattan.
The major issue looming ahead is next year. Will we go back home to Tel Aviv? We both want to stay here and try to live the American Dream. But it ain't easy. I am busy networking and interviewing with all sorts of places while keeping an ever accelerating pace at the hospital. Most places are friendly and want a second interview, some don't.
More on that next time. Please keep your comments and letters going, it's like OXYGEN.

Tel Aviv Pride 1979

2007-10-06T11:27:00.000-07:00

Before homosexuality was legalized in Israel, before shiny drag queens danced on fancy trucks, before gyms were the new temples, before color photos... And look at that Shofar on the right!

BearForce 1 in Gotham

2007-10-05T10:16:00.000-07:00

Occasionally New York brings on a new form of entertainment that makes me laugh hysterically and then realize it is kinda sexy. That what happened when I met my first drag queen in 1992 while visiting here, the first strip show, the first (and only I confess) foot fetish party.
Here is another recent sample. There guys are fabulous and they recently performed at Splash. It is the end of the twink menu?

No Gays in Iran

2007-09-25T15:26:00.000-07:00

The visit of the Iranian mongrel president to New York is not over yet. Using the podium at Columbia university he declared to the world that there are no gays in Iran. Having met some flamboyant ex-Persians in the raunchier bars of this fair city I went looking for some counter-evidence. Well CBC Canada has done it already and here is the brave piece they put together. Eye opener indeed. Watch and learn Mr President because this is what happens to gay men and women in your country. Like these two young men in the photo (no, it's not a BDSM flick, it's the real horror) who were whipped 100 lashes when caught snuggling at home. See below the YouTube version or click here for better quality video on CBC.CA site.
There are gays in Iran and some of them are real heroes. Would I have the guts to stand up in public and face such danger for the potential to be happy? Would you?

Video Part 2
Video Part 3

The Evil Has Landed

2007-09-24T13:02:00.000-07:00

Traffic jams everywhere. Police and dogs and hunky guys in shades talking to tiny mikes embedded in their ears. The UN general assembly is in town! And among those 160 world leaders stands apart the evil baron of Iran. Only 20 blocks from my apartment he is spewing his garbage. Yuck. A short counter-video attached.

Kippur and Sex in the City

2007-09-22T17:12:00.000-07:00

Been many many years since I had a Yom Kippur outside Israel. Although New York is a very Jewish city in many ways it was a very different experience. My Jewish friends, all great admirers of a handsome guy in a tight shirt, have suddenly become pious almost orthodox saints. All the talk was about fasting techniques and fabulous post Kippur dinners. The non-Jewish ones were mostly oblivious with the occasional "mention me if you get to speak to God this weekend".
Friday afternoon as I was heading home (earlier then usual, there are some benefits to holidays) the shuttle bus was stopped by crowds gathering on Lex Ave and looking very excited. As we slowly crept forward in the backed-up traffic I got a glimpse of the famous Sex-and-the-City trio: Carrie, Miranda and Charlotte posing in front of a glamorous store for the filming of the upcoming movie. Before moving to NY I watched this show carefully trying to learn the ways of the locals. Turns out life here are crazier that you can ever see on TV.
Having touched the celebrities I headed home and actually managed to fast for the first time in my life. Not even sure why but it was another new experience. Maybe the open stores and business as usual atmosphere so contrasted to home on this special day made me want to do it differently.
Here is a glimpse of the crowds. Going to eat now!

Mentors

2007-09-18T21:05:00.000-07:00

Everyone needs a mentor. I got one. He is smart, seasoned (that how you say old these days I think), worldly, beyond plain rich and has an open door for me even with a global hectic schedule (his not mine...). Today we met again in his towering New York office. It's a once-twice a year event that takes place in all corners of the world depending on our current locations. Told him about my life in this mad city, about the challenges of work, the roller-coaster days and nights. Told him of my new carrier ideas, of thinking of taking a new route in life. As always he didn't make judgment, didn't say what is right or wrong, just gave me a piercing look and asked me to take my time. Answers will come and many opportunities will knock. Just take your time.
We have met many years ago when as a college student I received a scholarship given by him to an Israeli that will attend that specific program. Ever since he was a presence and a gentle guide in this cactus' stormy journey through life. At the age of 70 he lost his wife and partner of countless years and today for the first time he seemed a little tired, a little sad. I wish I knew a way to help. Thank you my mentor.