Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

So today I’m at work as part of the “skeleton crew” that gets to do the employment thing on the day after Thanksgiving. There’s a small number of cars in the parking lot. There’s a handful of my fellow employees here pretending to do some work. I wonder if our web browsing activity is being monitored today.

It’s times like this that I get a little frustrated. I decided to make a smart business decision and eat lunch here at work instead of jetting home like I usually do because I felt I needed to be accessible in the event of some telecommunications catastrophe going on. But who am I really kidding? Everyone is at the mall or at least sitting on the road stuck in traffic trying to get to the mall. I read in the local paper that people were camping outside of the stores as early as last night in hopes of being first in line to get the rock-bottom prices available today only as we’ve been promised since the Fourth of July.

I’m starting to dream of a “Walton’s Christmas” and am considering making Earl a gift that is something useful out of popsicle sticks. But let’s face it, when I was made back in 1968, the crafty gene was left out of the gay mix, so that probably wouldn’t work. Besides, I don’t like popsicles.

Usually by this time of the year I have a mental list of Christmas gifts I’d like to see under the tree. At the very least it provides a stock of answers when I’m asked the inevitable, “What do you want for Christmas?” If I’m going to be quite honest (says he in his best Simon Cowell voice), I don’t really want anything for the holidays this year. I’ve got all I could possibly want and then some. I just want to spend some time with Earl, our relatives and our friends, eat some good food, share some memories and make people laugh. I want to give some hugs. That’s all I really want this year. I don’t need the latest electronic gadget, I’m not pining for anything showy. You know what I really want? Plumbing in the house that doesn’t leak (curse the man that built our house) and a toilet that flushes without having to plead with the pipes that nothing will clog up (curse the man that built our house again). You know what I’d like to give? I’d love to give Earl a state of the art remodeled kitchen, a paid year off from work, a trip around the world in both directions and the guarantee that we’ll win the lottery tonight, all coupled with my undying love (well that last one I can do quite easily). I’d love to take away all the worries that plague my relatives and tell them that everything is good.

So it is officially The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. I just hope everyone remembers that.

As I mentioned in the previous entry, today Earl and I enjoyed a Thanksgiving themed episode of “Bewitched”. We’ve been fortunate that to date Sony has released the better half of the series on DVD. It helps bury the memories of the remake that bombed the theatres back in the summer of 2005. I still shudder when I think of what a “Bewitched” movie starring Nicole Kidman could have been but actually turned out to be. It’s a shame that Sony won’t go ahead and do the movie again, keeping Nora Ephron far away and going for something a little truer to the original. Nicole Kidman could play Samantha who, in the very first moments of the movie, wakes up from a nightmare and tells Darrin about the awful dream she had where she was trapped in a movie set and everyone was calling her Isabel. Then we’d go on with what we all know and love as Bewitched.

Anyways, before “Bewitched”, there was a movie called “Bell, Book and Candle” released in 1958, starring Jimmy Stewart and Kim Novak. It’s a great romantic comedy, with familiar faces peppered throughout the cast and fabulous special effects of the era. It’s wonderfully “late 50s chic” in it’s style and sensibilities and all in all is a wonderful cinematic experience. I could watch the movie a thousand times and not complain.

So of course it’s going to be remade. Alicia Keys is going to star in the Kim Novak role. They’re going to “reimagine” the movie a bit to bring it up to modern sensibilities.

Cue the vomit.

Now I have no problem with Alicia Keys wanting to be a witch on the big screen. But why can’t she be her own witch instead of grabbing someone else’s and trying to make it better? Can someone please tell me why the Hollywood folks make obscene amounts of money by grabbing something that’s already done and doing it again?

I’m taking a stand on this one. I’m not going to see this movie. I don’t care if it’s not scheduled for release until 2008. I’m not going, no one can make me, and I’m urging anyone and everyone to do the same.

Someone has got to start the charge and tell Hollywood, “Enough is enough!”. We want something original and we want it NOW!

Earl and I are settling in for the night after an very enjoyable Thanksgiving dinner. My father and stepmother are on their way home after a wonderful day of food, drinks and conversation. I spoke with my mother this morning, I hope to speak with my sister and her boyfriend later tonight. After I finish this blog entry, Earl and I are going to watch the episode “Samantha’s Thanksgiving To Remember” from the fourth season of Bewitched. It’s one of my favorites.

The picture above is from last year’s Thanksgiving feast and I must admit it’s one of my favorite photos ever of Earl and I.

I have so much to be thankful for. It’s been a decade and the passage of time has solidified the fact that I have found my true love in my best friend. I’m also thankful and grateful for my family and that includes every member of the clan. I wish every gay couple could be as accepted by their families as Earl and I are. Thank you.

I’m also thankful for our friends, especially Tim and Steve and Tim & Gordon in Wyoming, and the folks we’ve had the opportunity to meet this past year, including the guys in Buffalo, Thom in Va., Karl & Randy and Tom & Lee in Mass. I’m even thankful for the internet, for we wouldn’t have met the aforementioned guys, as well as those we hope to meet in 2007.

I think the wine is controlling what I type on the keyboard right now, as this is starting to sound like a loopy awards acceptance speech. I suppose it’s better than the sobs of joy in the mashed potatoes that I’ve encountered in the past.

There’s a bright future ahead and I’m thankful for that too.

Earl began our Thanksgiving feast preparations tonight by starting out with the cole slaw. He likes to make cole slaw from scratch, mixing various spices, mayos and vinegars with the cabbage and carrots. I usually watch from the sidelines, providing support as taster and kitchen help by cleaning up behind him. Occasionally I recite the line “cook’s not a t’all ‘appy!”. Despite his protests I believe he secretly enjoys the comedy.

After stirring the vat of cabbage and accessories he had me test. I looked at him and told him “it needs more arm.” This is a little inside joke we have. Picture it, September 1999. The little mini-mall in the former “Woolworth’s #1” in the downtown area. We have a fast food restaurant. I’m manager of the store and we have three employees. First up is whom we call “Gina Lolabrigitta”, pronounced as Brett Somers did on Match Game, and the hardest worker of the lot. A single mother at age 22, Gina worked hard and was easily depended on. Next up we have Jimmy, a cast off from the radio station I had worked at who said “thank you” regardless of the situation and spoke like Barbara Eden’s ‘Jeannie’ as he refused to use contractions. And lastly we have Josie, a 72 year old Italian woman who had worked in the aforementioned Woolworth’s as a waitress since she was 16 years old. They couldn’t get her out of the store when it closed, so we just hired her on, sort of like a light fixture. She was just there.

We were also shocked to discover that she liked to stir homemade cole slaw with her arm.

This is apparently a tradition in fast food restaurants and diners across our fine land. Earl spun tales of his days as a teen working at a local diner with a big Greek cook stirring the potato salad with his arm. I’ve seen waitresses stir iced tea and kool-aid with their hands, so I don’t know why I was surprised at Josie’s choice of kitchen wizardry.

Earl and I decided to pass on that secret ingredient for tomorrow’s side dish. But it’s always fun to reminisce about the good ol’ days.

Here’s an odd threesome for you to envision. Kelly Ripa, Rosie O’Donnell and Clay Aiken. How’s that for a mental picture? I find the latest cat fight in Hollywood to be a little interesting on several levels. Please keep in mind that I’m a fan of Rosie’s (especially her charity work, though I do enjoy her humor as well).

Last Friday, Clay Aiken was a guest host on Regis & Kathie Lee Kelly. (The last time I watched that show Kathie Lee was still Kathie Lee Johnson. Maybe not, maybe that was “Name That Tune”.) Anyways, this new chick Kelly, who isn’t Kathie Lee, was pretty much hogging the whole show, which could be her right as her name is in lights and Clay Aiken was just a guest host, but there’s room for debate there.

Anyways, Clay and Kelly were interviewing some actor in some movie about something and Kelly basically kept interrupting Clay when he was trying to ask a question. Long story short, Clay put his hand over Kelly’s mouth to shut her up and that is bad, apparently. I wonder how she would have reacted to a sock, but I digress. I don’t know who the genius was that thought Clay Aiken would be a terrific fill in for Regis Philbin, but perhaps I was missing something there as well. Health care worker to reality show contestant to hyperfamous singer to has-been to talk show host? The last couple of times I’ve seen Clay on television he’s been exceedingly smug, apparently medicated in some way and had shockingly awful hair.

La Kelly made the remark that we don’t put our hand over her mouth, especially since she didn’t know where that hand has been.

Now I’m not the brightest bulb in the world nor am the most sensitive clod on the face of the planet, but for some reason Rosie O’Donnell remarked on The View that she found her comment about his hand to be a homophobic remark. My eyebrows went up because as far as I know, Clay isn’t gay (wink, wink, wink). (wink, wink). No really, he’s not gay. (Wink, wink). Now stop it, he’s not gay (wink wink). So while Rosie is complaining about Kelly’s alleged homophobic remark to Clay, I’m wondering about Rosie’s outing of Clay, though he’s not gay (wink, wink).

So Ripa pulls a ripper and calls into The View, live on the air, and basically scolds Rosie for accusing her of a homophobic comment that wasn’t to a man that allegedly isn’t. And now it’s all over the blogs and the forums and whatnot.

I wish I could say that I couldn’t care less, but that obviously isn’t true because I’ve spent 10 minutes typing about it.

Earl and I are back home after the weekend in Boston. You’d think a big geek like myself would remember to bring along the AC adapter for his PowerBook, but no, I forgot it and the battery went dead last night right after I uploaded the pictures to yesterday’s entry. So we were completely without computing capabilities for almost a full 24 hours.

I did not experience the full withdrawal symptoms I thought I was going to. I did get a little sweaty though.

Last night we ended up going to Bertucci’s for dinner and then walking around the South End a bit. After a brief “disco nap”, we took the T to Haymarket and walked around Quincy Market and picked up some dessert and did some people watching. I love to people watch. People are so fascinating, even when they’re not trying to be fascinating. We then walked through Downtown Crossing and went to The Alley, where we ran into a couple that I knew one half from years and years ago. (How’s that for sentence structure?) He remembered me from my club DJ days and I remembered him from the same so we chatted a bit and hung out with his husband and he (they’re legally married – yay Massachusetts!). His partner is a fireman on the South Shore. The conversation was interesting. The eye candy was eyepopping and the drinks were good. I limited myself to one beer and then water or diet soda so that I could make the walk back to the hotel without being one of those street drunks.

This morning we did some obligatory roadgeeking by driving several different ways through the Big Dig before heading home. There is still one section closed and I believe it’s where the couple was killed several months ago when the ceiling literally came down on their car. I took a few back roads getting home, driving along Route 2 to Leominster and then driving south through Worcester and picking up the MassPike there. By the time we were reaching home it was snowing, but nothing major.

Tomorrow kicks off a week of on-call and the start of the crazy holiday schedule. I’m actually looking forward to it all.