SoapBoxBlog

Remembering times gone by

Everyone and their mom is posting about the deaths of Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. I may as well throw another one into the mix. It can't hurt.

Farrah, in my mind, will always be part of Charlie's Angels. And Charlie's Angels will always be a part of my youth. 1975 was the year before I started high school and it was the year Charlie's Angels debuted it's pilot episode. I was just realizing and understanding my sexual self and that realization was that I didn't like boys. But I sure as hell liked those three Angels.

I kept a few mini posters of Kate, Farrah and Jaclyn hidden in the bottom drawer of my dresser, from where I'd pull them out and stare longingly. I just wanted to ride with Kate in her sport scar, trading witty conversation and rockin' the bell bottoms.

Cheryl Ladd was great, but Farrah was the original. I was proud of Farrah and the strong, determined person she'd become. It broke my heart to see her suffer. I have her TV special saved on my DVR. I recorded it but we still haven't had the guts to watch it. I'll keep it saved for now. She fought her cancer bravely. I can only hope her son and her partner, Ryan, are able to be as brave as she now that she's gone.

Michael Jackson was an integral part of my growing up. He was only four years older than me. It was fun watching him grow as an artist and an entertainer. It was also weird, awkward at times and almost like watching a train wreck.

I can't ever put on a pair of roller skates without thinking about "I'll be There". I can't ever look at pictures of high school and dances without thinking about "Rock With You". I can't ever remember the 80s and MTV without thinking about "Thriller". After that, well, it was the start of the weird, awkward, train wreck period. [We actually had a huge "Thriller" party on the night MTV unveiled the "Thriller" music video -- it was a drunken mess, but we had the greatest time!]

He was a tortured boy trapped in a man's body with a face that he kept trying to change. What or who was it he wanted to become? Who knows.

I hope that both of them are in a better place, at peace, free of pain and judgment. Thank you both for some really great times.

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Willow, Pottery or Leather?

It was nine years ago today that The Princess and I had our Commitment Ceremony. We are spiritually, if not legally, married. She is my best friend, my confidant, and my lover. I can't imagine my life without her in it; and I honestly don't want to imagine it that way.

She has the uncanny knack of making me so angry I could spit, but she also has the wonderful ability to unwind my whirling mind just by softly blowing onto my face. She is the calm in a storm and a light in the dark. She's also the corn of my toe -- but that's an inside joke.

Happy Anniversary, wife, and thank you for choosing to grow old with me.

One day, I look forward to knowing that everything we are is protected by law and accepted in the eyes of our government. Until that time, I will continue to act "as if" and will work hard to change perceptions and enlighten closed minds. Thank you for helping me to have the courage to be who I am and to not allow others' prejudices make me ashamed.

I love you.

Violence in Iran

There are some more fantastic photos HERE.

America needs to stay out of this politically; we need to ensure that our elected officials keep their opinions to themselves. America doesn't need to stick its nose into this and give Ahmadinejad any more ammo to use against the protesters.

They are so brave.

Obama and the DOJ: MAJOR FAIL

The Obama administration has dismissed a marriage case against DOMA with this document, wherein he actually invokes incest and adults marrying children.

Oh really.

I am so angry and disappointed to the point I want to literally punch something. You fucking asswipe of a politician. How dare you lie to our faces and tell us you are a "fierce advocate" for us? Fuck you, Obama, you fucking coward.

John Aravosis has a great play-by-play on the content of the brief here.

President Obama has pretty much kicked us under the bus on this, and he's effectively screwed us on any future attempts at fighting this discrimination through the Federal courts. It's tough work advocating fiercely for us gays and lesbians while systematically flushing our civil rights down the toilet, isn't it, assknob?

Friday Random 10 - Heat Wave Edition

I've never done this before, as my playlist is updated only now and again. I mostly have songs that I feel I can run with as background music and they have to be songs that I can sing along with -- and therefore ones that I know the words to. In other words, they'll most likely not be very recent songs; usually.

Anyway, here they are, in no particular order: The Friday Random 10 - Running in 100 degree weather, melting wax dummy list:

Rehab - Amy Winehouse
You Know I'm No Good - Amy Winehouse
Oops Upside Your Head - The Gap Band
We Are Family - Sister Sledge
Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! - ABBA
Celebration - Kool & the Gang
Tears Dry on Their Own - Amy Winehouse
I Love the Nightlife - Alicia Bridges
Flamenco Funk - Los Umbrellos
Ring My Bell - Anita Ward

Music from my high school years [late 70s] always cheers me up. Most likely because I can listen to it and know that I'm not there any more. Didn't you hear? Late 40-something is the new late 30-something. Or something. Shut up.

If you haven't heard the album Flamenco Funk by Los Umbrellos, you're missing out on some great, thumping, fun-to-dance-to tunes. They disbanded in 1999 I believe, but you know me, can't let go of a good thing.

Happy Friday!

Movies and Such

The Princess and I have been trying to see as many movies that had been associated with the 2009 Oscars as possible this past couple weeks. I doubt we'll see Slum Dog Millionaire; I'm not sure why, but I'm just not motivated to see it at this time. Although, I do enjoy Bollywood movies as much as the next person -- especially the dance numbers, "screw in the light bulb, pet the dog"...

We watched Rachel Getting Married the other night. That movie was so weird that we almost shut it off. We ended up watching the whole thing and overall decided that we were glad we did. We ended up liking the whole quirky bunch of folks who ended making up her immediate and extended family. But they all seemed too real for comfort.

Then the night before last, we watched Gran Torino. Wow. That was a fantastic movie. It was up, down, funny, horrid, uncomfortable and it made you feel good. Every time Walt [Clint Eastwood] opened his mouth, I'd cringe, just waiting for the next inappropriate, racist comment that was going to pop out. But it all worked. The ending seemed a bit too perfect; exactly how and on what planet would all of the gang members have hung around after the fatal shooting so they could be instantly arrested? I think not. But, it was satisfying in its resolution and Thao got the car. I think the song at the end where Clint Eastwood is singing in his quiet, scratchy voice was almost... well, I want to say "creepy", but it was more ominous I guess. It was something I could imagine being played after his death that would make us all remember him in this movie and others and that would make us heave-cry. Clint Eastwood sang the song, "Gran Torino" and I love how after Clint sang/talked the first part, then how Jamie Cullum took over and sang a beautiful rendition of it. It made us sit through the credits without moving or speaking. Haunting.

Next, we're going to see The Reader. It's not our typical Friday night movie; we prefer action movies to drama for that. But we also have the second season of Weeds on DVD to watch [we're slowly catching up; halfway through to the 4th season!], in case The Reader proves to be too heavy a tale for a Friday.

Today is Duncan's 11th birthday. He's the only we have left now and he's in excellent health except for a recent discovery that may or may not impact his life and ours. He has Feline Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (HCM). And he's asymptomatic, which means he's not displaying any of the usual symptoms: lethargy, poor appetite, panting/troubled breathing. Because of that, it's most likely that one day he'll just die in his sleep.

We've decided against medication, as it would make him lethargic, give him a poor appetite and would generally take away all that makes life a joy for him. It would also stress him a great deal, which is obviously something you want to avoid when heart disease is involved. We don't believe in prolonging his life if he won't enjoy the life he's living. So we're letting him play, eat, poop, lay in the sun and do what makes him happy until such time as he passes on.

Happy birthday, Duncan!

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Men will be Boys

Of course they will! When confronted with a chance to humiliate or otherwise make fun of a woman -- while in the company of his equally pea-brained co-workers -- a man will always fall on the side of pubescent idiocy.

Late yesterday afternoon, I was on my daily trail run. Part of the trail is part of OUC's [Orlando Utilities Commission] utility access for power lines and their maintenance. It's private property, however it resides inside the Hal Scott nature preserve. We're allowed access to it and the many hiking trails therein on foot. We have to climb through, under or over a gate on a bridge that blocks vehicle access to the trails, and we manage to do that with no issues. Like I said, I do it every day.

Occasionally, I will encounter an OUC vehicle out there doing routine maintenance or repairs of the power lines. Yesterday, I encountered three of them. My run is a little over 1 mile uphill on a dirt utility trail and then I turn around and run just over 1.5 miles back [I walk the extra .5 at the beginning to warm up]. On my way out, it was clouding up pretty good. I had a light rain pelting me from behind all the way up. It helped to cool the temps down, so I really didn't mind.

At the turnaround point, I did my turn and saw a wall of water headed toward me about 3/4 of a mile down the trail. That meant I was going to have to run right into it. I continued on my way, still not in the downpour, but heading toward it. I could see two sets of headlights deep in the rain, heading my way. I prepared myself to move off the trail while running so the OUC vehicles could stay on the trail and not get mired in anything off trail that they couldn't see [like armadillo holes or wash-outs].

The large trucks still moved off to the side a bit for me as well, and I waved at the drivers and passengers as they went by. They nodded or smiled and went on their way. As I made my way further into the pouring rain, I could see another set of headlight coming and they were moving much faster than first two sets did.

This truck was barreling toward me. I moved off the trail like I had for the previous 2 trucks. This truck made no effort to move at all and in fact sped up as it approached me. With the trail starting to fill with water, this caused a 5 foot wall of water to shoot out away from the truck on either side. So the asshole driving this truck was purposely trying to completely soak me with muddy water instead of slowing down and moving aside slightly so as to ensure I'd not be soaked or run over.

I moved just far enough off the trail to avoid the wall of muddy water and continued running. I could hear hoots and laughter as the truck loaded with asinine idiots roared by, shooting water everywhere. I looked after they passed and could see them looking out the windows at me. I hopped back onto the muddy trail, not missing a beat and flipped them the biggest bird with my right hand, all the while still running.

I don't think I'll ever understand the mentality of men like these. These are the types of guys who stick fire crackers up cats' butts and who paint the shells of box turtles. They're the guys who kick their dogs and who beat their wives. They do it to impress their buddies and to make themselves feel superior.

How hard would it have been to slow down, move over and do the right thing instead of trying to cover me with mud? Not that hard at all for a person with a modicum of empathy. But I guess empathy is a pretty difficult concept for a group of men who never developed emotionally past the age of 12.

Thanks, assholes. My run was really helping to up my mood yesterday. Now all I can think of is what giant wank stains you are. I worry for the unfortunate women who find themselves as your mates and for your offspring; I really do.

And to think I was surprised to find that over half the Americans who took a poll think torture is justified to thwart terrorism. I bet those assclown dudebros in the OUC vehicle would say, "fuck yeah, America"!

Get Off Your Ass

And fulfill your promises. Stop kissing celebrity butt and thanking them for getting you in the White House, and remember who actually did put you there.

I realize we're probably an embarrassing predicament for you, seeing how you've never really been very comfortable around us and you like to hide behind your religion when explaining why you don't feel we deserve the same civil rights as straight folks [but you'll throw us a bone like 'civil unions']. But seriously, it's not like you made promises to us in the dark with no one around that could hear you. You really did promise to work to repeal DOMA and DADT and you also promised us that you'd be a "fierce advocate" for us.

Yet you've been glaringly quiet on all of these issues since you've been in office. Hell, even Iowa stood up for us. And you haven't done one damn thing.

I'm talking to you, President Obama. Get off your ass and speak up on our behalf.

You promised us.

And you can bet your butt we're gonna hold you to it.

Why There's Still Hope for Us

Playing For Change

Blue and White Ignite!

For Clog Blog Friday, I present my attempt at showing team spirit. Of course, being at work slightly limits my expression, but I think I've got it covered.

Tonight, the Orlando Magic play the Cleveland ~~Cadaveliers~~ Cavaliers in game 2 of the NBA eastern conference finals at Cleveland. GO MAGIC!

My folks live in Colorado, just outside of Denver. The Denver Nuggets are playing the Los Angeles Lakers for the western conference finals. I think it would be outstanding to have the Nuggets and the Magic in the NBA finals.

The Princess and I could carry on a long-distance rivalry with my parents which could result in the losers having to endure some humiliating experience which would have to be confirmed via photo messaging to the winners. Hmmm... any ideas?

And They Wonder Why They're Bankrupt

For the past three weekends, we've had to take The Princess' car in to the dealer [Chrysler] for warranty issues. It started with the whole car shaking when she reached 50 mph. The horn would also stick -- which I guess means she's using it a lot -- and we wanted them to change the oil.

We take our vehicles to Goodyear for tire rotations and balancing; we have lifetime balancing with them and our tires are Goodyear tires. We've gone to this place for years and they usually do our oil changes as well.

Back to the dealer. Turns out, they replaced the horn switch - check. They changed the oil - check. They rotated the tires; didn't ask for that, but no charge - check. And they ordered two axles - GAH.

It took a couple days for the axles to come in, so The Princess drove shakingly the whole week. We brought the car back in the next weekend to get the axles replaced. Once that was done, we found the car now bounced when she reached 50 mph. I figured the tires needed balancing, so we went to Goodyear for that. They balanced the tires, found that one stud and nut were stripped on the passenger side front tire and so they removed the stud and threw away the nut. They then realized they didn't have a stud or nut that fit to replace it. They ordered them. We went on our merry way, missing one stud and nut, but still able to drive safely.

The car still bounced at 50 mph. So we took it back to Chrysler the next weekend, figuring something was wrong with the suspension from when they replaced the axles. They had assured me that they did a complete front and back end alignment when they completed installing the axles. Chrysler determined that the passenger side front tire [the one missing the stud] was newer than the rest [which it was; after the original had been demolished by a screw] and that it needed to be road force tested.

Which meant another trip to Goodyear, because that's where we bought the tire. Plus, they were going to replace the stud and nut for us.

I got to Goodyear, they put the car up and found that the stud and nut had already been replaced! [thanks, Chrysler] However, the passenger side BACK tire was now missing a stud and nut. WTF?

I called Chrysler and the service dude said that his tech had found that the stud back there was stripped as well, so he removed it. OK... and then what? That was it. Apparently, unless you S.P.E.L.L. things out to their techs, they're not able to think too far along on their own. I yelled "Jesus Christ, what the fuck?" at the service dude over the phone. I think it freaked him out a bit.

Goodyear did the road force test and got the "bumps" out of the tire. We went back to Chrysler and even though service dude knew I was coming, he was "at lunch". When The Princess' car came out of the garage with its new stud and nut, service dude was miraculously back from lunch, but had the idiot tech give me the keys. I felt so sorry for the guy that I just thanked him. I went out and walked 50 times around the car, checked for studs, nuts, bolts, tires, chrome, windows and an engine. Once I was satisfied that everything was there, I left.

To sum things up, 3 weeks, 4 trips to Chrysler and 2 trips to Goodyear later... I'm happy to announce that The Princess' PT Cruiser is working perfectly.

Of course now the cigarette outlet on my PT Cruiser doesn't work [yes I checked the fuse]. [And I just got a Tomtom One GPS on sale and can't use it.] That's a warranty item, which means: back to Chrysler. Gah.

In The Closet

For Clog Blog Friday: A peek into my closet!

What you can't see is the mango-colored pair I'm wearing

Last Friday, The Princess and I were beginning to feel a wee bit under the weather. We felt a bit down and didn't feel like cooking dinner. So we decided to use a coupon and went to TGI Fridays. Holy crap, it was like everyone in there was on crack. We had to literally scream at each other across the itty-bitty, sticky table, it was so fucking loud.

Just as we were starting to get super-dooper, smash-someone's-head-on-the-table irritated, the waitress came up and took our drink order. I screamed mine at her, as did The Princess. The waitress then screamed back to see our IDs. ::blink:: Wah? The Princess asked her if she was kidding. Nope, she said, they had to ask for ID for anyone 40 and under. We laughed, pulled out our IDs and gave them to her. The birth dates were so old on them she probably couldn't figure out our ages without an abacus. She just shrugged and handed them back.

Anyway, considering we're on the closer to 50 side of 40, we allowed ourselves to feel giddy for about 2 seconds and then the sinus-splitting noise of the gen-x, y and z'ers around us made us want to head-butt someone again.

What does this have to do with the ridiculous number of Crocs in my closet you ask? Why absolutely nothing, of course! I just wanted to share that with you so you'd know why I will never go into another TGI Fridays again in my life. I can't stand "restaurants" that blare music so loud your teeth hurt and that cram everyone in so close the fire marshal would have a conniption.

I prefer a nice jazz tune playing softly in the background, a well-chilled martini, plenty of elbow room and good conversation with The Princess. A server who knows us by sight is an added bonus.

For Rowan

A truly beautiful soul. I wish I could have met you.

It's A Twofer!

My "Professional" Crocs

Pay no attention to the small, illegally-kept mini fridge in the background; it's not really there. These are my professional Crocs; professional only because they have no holes in the top and because I'm wearing them at work. Oh -- and socks help.

Proof I have two feet

See? I have both feet with me today.

My back is still giving me fits, of sorts. By the afternoon, it's usually feeling pretty good. I go to bed, and wake up half-way through the night because it's stiffening up. I can't get comfortable and end up fussing and moving around the rest of the night. When I get up in the morning, it's a major undertaking to just walk.

I'm pretty sure it's my bed that's slowing down the healing process. I swear, I will NEVER purchase a Spring Air mattress ever again. It came with a 10 year warranty, which we used the second year we owned it. The mattress we have now is the replacement and it's also causing us issues. My back aches, even when it's not injured, and The Princess' shoulders hurt when she sleeps on it [every night].

We can't trade it in again on warranty though, because unfortunately Yenta peed on it accidentally when he was very sick last year. They won't take a stained mattress; the stains void the warranty. How convenient. I guess you'll need to wrap your mattress in plastic the first 10 years to make sure your warranty will be honored. Unless you're one of the few fortunate human beings who doesn't excrete any bodily fluids at all [including sweat].

We're thinking about getting a Sleep Number bed. If they're as good as everyone has said they are, it's worth it to hand over the dough so we can actually sleep through the night. Anyone out there have one? How do you like it?

Happy Friday, everyone! I'm planning on self-medicating my back pain tonight. I'm going to liberally apply pomegranate martinis to my gullet [high in antioxidants - healthy!]. That should do the trick. If it doesn't, I probably won't care! HA!

Spring Chicken - NOT

Twisted my back yesterday. I'm having a hella time just moving, sitting, thinking - anything. It aches. It pings when I move. I'm whining. It hurts when I whine. It's my lower back and I had a real fun time trying to get my left leg into the car this morning.

So, I'm going to The Princess' chiropractor today to get it put back into place.

It all started Friday. The Princess made buffalo burgers and I decided to grill them on our $300 stainless steel super grill. I check back on the burgers, and after 10 minutes at medium heat, the whole friggin' thing had had a meltdown. The grills themselves were melting. The knobs for adjusting the flames had melted. I burned my hands opening the doors on the cabinet underneath -- I had to remove the LP canister so we wouldn't blow the fuck up. Happy I was not. The LP canister was seized and I couldn't shut it off. I had to set it down in front of the grill, pray nothing would catch or blow up and then hope it was close enough to empty that it would just shut itself off. Which it did after about 15 minutes.

That was 15 minutes of me standing 40 feet away with an itty-bitty fire extinguisher, biting my nails.

Sunday, The Princess' cold [which she came down with just before the weekend] is kicking her butt, and we can't go to church. So, I decide I'll move the old grill down to the curb and we'll go get a new, smaller one at Home Depot -- because I have a $15 coupon!

After we get back from Home Depot, I rolled the monster grill out through the house, into the garage and down the driveway. I put a "SUFFERED MELTDOWN" sign on the piece of shit and left it there. It was not there this morning; hopefully whoever took it read my sign. If not, I take no responsibility for their missing eyebrows.

After moving the old grill out, I picked up the box with the new grill and hefted it out onto the back patio. *PING* Something popped in my lower back. I boldly ignored it and plowed forward with assembling the grill. Then I potted some plants, planted some tomatoes and fed and watered the veggie garden. By then, my lower back was threatening to catch with every move I made. I moved like the Tin Man from Oz.

I finally told The Princess what I'd done. She made me shower and put an icepack on my back when I got out. We ran out of Ibuprofen. I whined. She gave me some champagne. I drank it and whined some more. I slept with a pillow under my knees; actually, I lay in the bed with a pillow under my knees and tried to sleep. I was not very successful.

So, here I am today with an appointment to see a chiropractor. My first visit ever. After being threatened with surgery every time I went to see a sports doctor in the past, I decided I'd take a different route and see if an adjustment will cure what ails me.

Whine.