Poetry...

Poem 1.

Bethesda

Set perfectly within a great city's sanctuary, you are there.
Not an attraction to me but a belief.

A belief in protectors, heavenly teachers.
Angel's do exist,
sent by a power greater than myself,
to guide, to comfort, to share in moments.

Mine is there,
early in the morning with the day's first light,
in the perfect light of a sunset,
in a crashing wave, in a genuine smile,
in the warmth that overcomes me giving me hope.

Bethesda,
you give form to presence that has always been there.


Poem 2.

Identity.

Breeze...
candle extinguished.

Breeze...
reflection distorted.

nauseating, grotesque image remains,
Picasso's interpretation,
acutely aware,
million different voices create static.
personal presence non-existent.

Cleansing breathe restores conviction destroys apprehension.

With breath illumination,
with belief calmness.

Determine soul unquestioning,
an optimistic believer,
full of hope,
a refugee to safe harbor,
if only for a moment,
steadfastly existing among light.

Weekend Adventure!!

Friday was blah,
the heat was on its way,
a night of Gil studying,
and me watching anything Bravo!

Saturday was school close shopping,
two words, boring and hot!
No escaping the heat,
the buildings even sweat.



Awoke today to find our friend humidity gone,
it showed up for a day to assure us it exists still,
I rejoiced in its absence.
The road took us to Brooklyn,
Coney Island, how exciting.
New York is amazing if you open your eyes and explore.

A working class playground,
kitchy with an amazing energy,
a t-shirt passes us by,
"Welcome to Brooklyn, a home to the world"
A truth,
At home in the diversity, I grin
Injest an original Nathan's followed by a ride on the Cyclone,
a perfect Sunday afternoon.

We drive home in the gloaming,
my favorite time of day,
day gives way to night,
Cruise down the expressway,
a panoramic view of downtown, Brooklyn Bridge, and Empire State,
Wow,
First time on the famous bridge connecting Brooklyn and Manhattan,
Wow,
I live here,
urban beauty at its best.


Home now,
CNN "God's Warriors",
scary shit,
Annie Lennox,
"Peace is just a word",
Maybe,
I find my own peace,
and go towards the light!!

An apartment blog...

We really kept the course on this mission…to finish our NY apt. I really felt as though my head would explode if I had to contemplate one more piece of furniture and whether or not it would fit into our “fung shway” or however you spell it. We finally measured and we have just about 500 square feet to exist in together. So I completely understand the importance of making the space comfortable and livable, but my head did want to burst. I explained to Gil that we had “over shopped”, but in retrospect it was worth it.


Our safe harbor in this crazy city fit together like pieces in an intricate puzzle of hardwood and leather. After all the analyzing and debate, the final product is exactly what I pictured it would be. It is a quiet, simple and cozy spot in the low east part of this grand island.





PS-the following tour is mostly for my family "hi mom", and pictures are arranged as you walk in and we do have a bathroom, but why a pic of the bathroom??

Opera at Bryant Park

The park backs up to the city’s great library. Close enough to hear the lion’s roar. People are scattered throughout. Some, like us, are at bistro tables waiting for the show. Others are laying back taking in the rays of sun.

Two twin girls kick a basketball with mom as “test, test,” thunders over the park, sunbathers break from a trance to see about the ruckus. Unbothered by the spectators their heads fall right back down.

Gil approaches with an announcement. They have twenty-five dollar tickets to the Opera at Lincoln Center. Cannot pass this up, finances are tight, but experiencing life is more important. 3rd row orchestra to see “La Boehm” September 7th. The anticipation begins.

A stream of people continues to flow in as the performers practice. A mother lays a big read blanket in front of us. Her son jumps right on with his big truck and curls up under mother’s watchful eyes. She spots a better location and they are gone, replaced by two men on a lunch break.

The show is about to begin. An afternoon of Aria’s…

Their voices are so powerful. I wonder just how far away they could be heard. Renditions of Pagliacci, Madame Butterfly, and La Boehm over power my ears. I have never seen the opera, but I know I will like it. The performers put heart and soul into the songs, beads of sweat run down their animated faces, even though I don’t understand the language, they help me understand. The opera is truly music to my ears.

The show ends and we walk. A smile never leaves my face. A new nook discovered, this city is amazing.

A catch up blog...

The Prius,
Our road warrior,
Helping to open our eyes to the world outside the apple.

Upstate New York,
The Hudson sees many faces in these crowded areas,
My love for the city is vast,
But the Hudson sees its prettiest face just north,

Sleepy Hollow, Tarrytown, and the many places surrounding,
Worlds away from the hustle and bustle,
Sounds of birds and streams replace horns and sirens.
Fall will bring fire to the tree covered skies. I cannot wait.

Jersey,
The land of malls and shopping,
Watch out here I come.
Went to the Paramus mall,
I have a new love,
We will leave it at that.

And finally, Connecticut,
Breathtaking,
Scenes like perfect pictures for my eyes,
Sorrow for the city goers cemented in their urban force field.
I touched the river at the People’s Forest,
A much needed real moment bringing me back to home,
Connecticut,
A nook for sure.

An adventure weekend,
Becoming familiar with the new world around me.

The apartment is coming along,
Showing its face,
Stay tuned.

Something I read

Updated: 2:19 p.m. ET Aug 11, 2007

ARLINGTON, Texas - A megachurch canceled a memorial service for a Navy veteran 24 hours before it was to start because the deceased was gay.

Officials at the nondenominational High Point Church knew that Cecil Howard Sinclair was gay when they offered to host his service, said his sister, Kathleen Wright. But after his obituary listed his life partner as one of his survivors, she said, it was called off.

“It’s a slap in the face. It’s like, ’Oh, we’re sorry he died, but he’s gay so we can’t help you,”’ she said Friday.

---

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Wright said High Point offered to hold the service for Sinclair because their brother is a janitor there. Sinclair, who served in the first Gulf War, died Monday at age 46 from an infection after surgery to prepare him for a heart transplant.

The church’s pastor, the Rev. Gary Simons, said no one knew Sinclair, who was not a church member, was gay until the day before the Thursday service, when staff members putting together his video tribute saw pictures of men “engaging in clear affection, kissing and embracing.”

‘It’s not that we didn’t love the family’
Simons said the church believes homosexuality is a sin, and it would have appeared to endorse that lifestyle if the service had been held there.

“We did decline to host the service — not based on hatred, not based on discrimination, but based on principle,” Simons told The Associated Press. “Had we known it on the day they first spoke about it — yes, we would have declined then. It’s not that we didn’t love the family.”

Simons said the decision had nothing to do with the obituary. He said the church offered to pay for another site for the service, made the video and provided food for more than 100 relatives and friends

“Even though we could not condone that lifestyle, we went above and beyond for the family through many acts of love and kindness,” Simons said.

Wright called the church’s claim about the pictures “a bold-faced lie.” She said she provided numerous family pictures of Sinclair, including some with his partner, but said none showed men kissing or hugging.

The 5,000-member High Point Church was founded in 2000 by Simons and his wife, April, whose brother is Joel Osteen, well-known pastor of the 38,000-member Lakewood Church in Houston. Now High Point meets in a 432,000-square-foot facility in Arlington, near Dallas.

Wright said relatives declined the church’s offer to hold the service at a community center because they felt it was an inappropriate venue. It ultimately was held at a funeral home, but the cancellation still lingered in some minds, she said.

I don't why but this just bothered me. People just need to love one another, aren't we suppose to be our brother's keepers. Sad...

How I met humidity.

The humidity has been the main thing on my mind lately. I use to think that I knew what it felt like to be hot, but now a truly know the meaning of HOT!! Growing up in the desert the sun felt like laser beams peering right down on me on hot days. The good thing though is that I could escape the laser like heat under a tree or porch. In NY, it feels like I'm am walking around in a heat bubble. The heat surrounds me, and when it is at it hottest it feels like I am suffocating. The other thing I have found out is that humidity will stick around even if the sun doesn't. Let me explain. Two days ago, I looked out the window in the early afternoon and saw that it was cloudy. Even though it was mid-day, I felt it would be a good time to run because in the West when it is cloudy it is cooler. Boy was I wrong. The first 15 minutes went on without a hitch, but as I turned around to head back to home, I realized how sweaty I was. Everything was so heavy. My shirt felt like it weighed 15 pounds, and my shoes 30. Walking back and looking at the skyline, I could see the heaviness in the air. I felt like sticking my hand out and saying "nice to meet you humidity". It is really going to be something I will have to grow accustomed to while we explore.

Another funny story happened yesterday. We drove our flight attendant friend Dennis to the JFK Airport at 5:30 in the morning. It was pouring rain when we awoke. This was the second storm I have encountered in my time here, and I am amazed by how much lightning there was each time. It looked almost like a strob light in the air. Gil tells me it has to do with all the moisture plus the extreme heat. We were able to get Dennis safely to JFK on time with no problems. Our drive home on the other hand, proved to be much more interesting.

The rain doubled its density on the way home, and Gil became more like our captain rather than our driver. Whole expressways were flooded out. We were driving on the Van Wycke Highway, where at one point water was as high as the bottom of our doors. There were mud slides from the side of the highways that Gil had to navigate through, and then we had to wait. We were waiting to exit onto the 287 Brooklyn/Queens Expressway for a LONG time. Turns out, as we found out later on the news, there was a freaking tornado in the area, a tornado in NYC!! It destroyed homes and ripped up trees and jumped right over the BQE. It took us at least 3 hours to get home, but at least we missed the whole tornado experience. I mean I love the Wizard of Oz, but I don't feel like going to visit anytime soon. Sorry Dorothy.

The day wrapped up by us eating at the cheap Mexican food restaurant, that I note is cooked and ran by a Japanese family. The funny thing about this is that our new favorite Sushi place, has nothing but Mexican Sushi chefs. Man, you gotta love NY!!

August 5th, 07 "When gays smack you in the face..."

Today’s car journey took up to the famous, at least in the gay culture, Fire Island. We were not quite sure what to expect, nevertheless we hopped in the Prius, took a right into the Queens/Midtown Tunnel and were on our way. We took exit 59 south to the Cherry Grove Ferry, and arrived on the Island.

Fire Island was everything you could imagine a gay Island to be. The little grove towns off the beach were quaint, cute, and friendly. The houses were gorgeous. There was always the faint sound of drag queens butchering another 80’s dance hit at one of the many gay bars that could be found pretty much at every turn. I have never been a huge fan of the bars, as Gil would point out, but I was surprised when I found myself realizing that something would be missing from the island if they were not present. The most surprising thing to me though, was how beautiful the beach was. The water was a deep blue and the white sand was so white and fluffy. The beach of course had its share of characters. We encountered the whole spectrum of “gay” as we took our initial stroll up the beach, and I loved it. The cohesive existence of acceptance on that beach was touching and I felt, for the first time in a long time, an urge to find a healthy connection with my culture, a new goal of mine. There were hot bodies and not so hot bodies. There were Speedos, European style, and thong bathing suits. Bathing suits, naturally, were optional on Fire Island. Many men and women walked leisurely across the beach not caring one bit that they were naked. Leary at first my admiration grew for these people. I finally concluded that if these people were so comfortable with themselves, good for them to go nude on a beach. It just added a little zip to the whole experience. There were huge groups of friends that seemed to be going in on one of the hundred or so beach houses together for a summer of partying and single men and women reading books and enjoying individual peacefulness. Lesbians were present taking in the sun and sights, providing the stern feminine attitude with a touch of goofiness that carved their place among everybody. Gay couples walked hand-in-hand down the beach without any staring or gawking. Gays were normal and for once the straight people stuck out in the crowds. I finally concluded that if these people were so comfortable with themselves, good for them to go nude on a beach. It just added a little zip to the whole experience. It was a perfect day to be on the beach, so we found a spot, settled down, and lounged the day away. As we waited for the ferry back to Sayeville, we saw the most beautiful sunset, which put the perfect period on the end of our day.

The day was great and I encourage anyone gay, curious or open in cyber land to visit Fire Island. We took the Long Island expressway back to the city, back to home. I, of course, had another “wow” moment when I realized that my new home was marked in the distance by the blinking red light on the top of the Empire State Building. What a great day…

Finding my "nook"...

I have always envisioned a “nook” as a place of safety. A place that made me feel safe and centered no matter what was going on around me.

NYC is a complete trip. At any given time there are thousands of people surrounding you. The heat has been extreme this week, and lets not talk about the drivers. The loudness and dirtiness alone are alarming. Even though I still gaze up at the city in awe, I can see the notorious “harshness” of the city. I can sense that if I don’t establish myself with two very stable feet on the floor, I could be completely swallowed up by the city and run back home with my tail between my legs and write the experience off to “Well we gave it a try”. That is one realization.

The second would be the calming realization that even though I am in the center of this gigantic city in this completely new and complicated culture, I am not going to change. Daydreaming while working this summer, I envisioned myself becoming a tough, sleekly dressed, talking on my cell phone, always on the cutting edge, out every night, and saying phrases like “that is so New York” type of city-goer. I know I have only been here about a week, but I can already tell that I am going to fall somewhere in the middle. Coming to NY magnifies certain qualities about people or at least me, and I was surprised to find into this quarter-life I have developed a core. I am pretty laid back and simple. I like staying in more than going out. I really do appreciate intimate evenings at home. A couple nights a week I like to have events such as dinner, drinks with friends, a movie, and/or a show. I am a more day-oriented person, and like to fill my days with errands and projects, and relax at night. I have no idea why I thought that would all change, but one week in I can tell it won’t. I do, indeed, have more access to very exciting things that I certainly will take advantage of, but it seems gravitation to my core is helping me through this adjustment. Some might find this juvenile, but I like it this way. I see it as establishing my foundation and building up from there. I do though look forward to the future when my routines are established and I experience everything this city has to offer.

Also helping me with this transition is my “nooks”. Like I said, they have been revealing themselves. Here are some examples of what I call my “nooks”. As soon as we moved here, we discovered the Union Square’s Farmer Market; amazingly cheap produce fills the square. Finding out that my favorite store Trader Joe’s was right down the street was also exciting. At least 3 times now in the late afternoon, we walk to the market, stop by Joe’s, and walk 2 long blocks and 7 short blocks back to our apartment to cook dinner. I love our shopping activities; they make me feel at home and also like I am having a shopping experience unique to New York. Another “nook” was getting in our car, which I love having here even though no one agreed with us, and going to explore Long Island. We found Ikea, and as we left we saw a sign for Hempstead, my dad’s hometown where none of my family have been. We called my dad up, and had him map quest us to his childhood home at 15 Foster Place. Hearing how excited this made my dad, made me feel safe; a moment I will never forget. We continued our exploration to Sag Harbor next to the Hamptons, and instantly fell in love. Next summer we want to get a summer rental there. The final “nook” I will share with you happened this morning. I went for a jog, and intended to jog through the big Stu-town complex near our apartment. Instead, I ended up jogging on a trail along the East River. This is where I found my peeps…the runners. This familiarity fueled my run from awful to above average. People were walking dogs, partners were walking hand-in-hand, and I even saw a 5 year old tee ball team, The Mets, warming up for their game. On my way up the trail back to our place, I caught an awesome view of the eastern skyline and the Empire Sate building, and I experienced another “wow, I really live here” moment that was exhilarating. My “nooks” are becoming quite sacred to me, and I will write more about them as I find them.

Sorry for the long blog, I just felt like writing it all down today. It is so long for me to even proofread, so if you have made it this far, I thank you. Tomorrow is our first Sunday in the city, and we intend to drive out and ferry to Fire Island. It is not suppose to be as humid as these past days, and I cannot wait to see the ocean.

Our adventure begins...

A boy to the city...



We attacked the road with one mission, to make it to our new home. I-76 out of Denver, finally meeting up with I-80 East, our path for the next 1000 or more miles. Driving, especially not thousands of miles, is never thought or mentioned as people’s favorite past times, so dread of the open road was prevalent in the first hundred miles. But as is the case in many of life’s journeys the whole scenario worked its self out and we found our little routine with the road.

Alternating every 200 miles, we both navigated through vast landscapes, which changed and transformed with each eastern bound mile. Highlights in my memory will be the big round moons I stared at with wonder each night, the rows and rows of corn in Nebraska and Iowa, and the foggy backdrop of the Delaware River at two in the morning as we came closer to the city. There is of course that one thing I wish could be mentally deleted, and that would be of course the lavish hotel we stayed in at the corner of Urine and Murder in Des Moines. So tired when we pulled into the parking lot of the hotel with no name that claimed to be a Howard Johnson that we neglected to care about the hygiene of the establishment. Give us a damn bed, shut the lights out, and pretend we are at the Four Seasons. When we awoke and the exhaustion blinders were removed, we hurriedly, I mean sprinted out the door. The experience made us feel so icky that coming up on our second night we decided to gun it to the city rather than take-up at another horrifying roadside hotel. I just couldn’t handle asking for a room with a king bed and a side order of pee stains on the walls.

After gaining our travel momentum and gunning it through Pennsylvania, we cruised through New Jersey, and saw the skyscrapers that will replace the mountains in our daily skyline viewing. Through the Lincoln Tunnel and “Hello Manhattan”!! We had done it. We were officially here. We have flown into the city many times, but something about driving in with the Prius full of our belongings really smacked us in the face. We have really moved, thousands of miles away from where I have called home for 24 years, and into this gigantic famous city. We chose to drive down 42nd street, giving us an entirely new perspective on Times Square and Broadway. Even though we had seen the sites, even watched the ball drop two New Year’s ago, our eyes were wide and we were in awe of what we would now call home.

Passed Grand Central Station, and a right onto 2nd Ave, we are almost there. 35th St., 34th…27th…23rd…20th and then around the block to 1st Ave. Turning left 21st St, it all hit home. Although we have had our apartment for months, we would not be leaving this time. We were here to stay. The Prius, our eco-friendly road warrior, pulls up to our building and there we are again, wide-eyed, gazing at our new home. Like a secret mission, we slyly unload our boxes and belongings at 4:30 in the morning, being careful to not wake the neighbors. And then it is finished, and we lay down to rest as the city awakes.

We had a great first day and got a lot accomplished. It was surprisingly peaceful in the city, at least to me. We walked the streets doing some errands, and I felt at ease with the turbulence of the last month. We set up our apartment, which is now live able until we can order and wait for our furniture to arrive in the next couple months. For now our apartment resembles many thrown together living quarters in the city, expect it just me and Gil, not 20 actors/models/waiters or 15 flight attendants living in a studio. Just us. Of course our apartment does come with the traditional transitional surroundings, complete with an air mattress/floatation device, stereo and lamps on the floor providing plenty of that low light ambiance that us gays love, and my “Mr. Robbins” director’s chair as our main sitting area, at least until it is in my classroom. But this is now home.

It is 8 o’clock p.m. eastern standard time, and my partner on this wild ride is conked out beside me. I look out our big window and see the sky changing into night. The same sky I always look at, but now with much different surrounding. We really did it. I really did it, and this journey, this adventure has officially begun.