J.P.

To Oprah. To Milk Duds.

Lately I’ve been inspired to pursue my long buried musical aspirations. Between the piano getting fixed up and the prompting from several that I should start singing again (outside of the shower), I’ve been timidly looking around for something fun to do to see if I can handle being on a stage again without dying of fright, whether it be community theatre, a gay men’s chorus or going somewhere for karaoke night (Guinness optional).

One of my favorite musicals of all time is “Rent”. I love each piece of the production and I often sing selected songs from the soundtrack during my commute to school. I occasionally amuse myself by watching local community groups perform songs from the show. Due to some of the content and lyrics of the music, “Rent” is not a show you often see performed by high school drama clubs. However, once in a while a rogue, daring music teacher will make the leap with interesting results. During my latest look through YouTube, I got a kick out of a change in lyrics to “La Vie Boheme”.

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To leather, to dildos, To curry Vindaloo
To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou

became

To hand-crafted beers made in local breweries
To yoga, to yogurt, to rice and beans and cheese
To Oprah, to milk duds, To curry Vindaloo
To Huevos Rancheros and Maya Angelou

I’m curious if the script was changed before or after it was practiced in the high school auditorium. For some reason the change just cracks me up.

Crazy.

Since all is right with the world (we’ve switched back to Standard Time, which puts the sun relatively close to where it should be) I was up bright and early before sunrise at 6:30. Some may scoff at my attempt to get up early but I feel that getting up at 6:30 is an accomplishment for this night owl. I had no choice in the matter, as I had a paw in my eye. It was time for tuna.

Anyway, not only am I up and about at this ungodly hour, I just realised that I have been cleaning my office/studio for the past thirty minutes. I’ve organised all my school papers and work from past semesters, I’ve thrown out hundreds of 3 1/2-inch floppy disks (I kept the 5 1/4-inch ones, just kidding they were the old 8-inch ones) and I think I might actually dust and vacuum the rooms in the basement tonight.

Let’s see if I can stay up beyond 7:00.

1313 Mockingbird Lane.

The neighbors down the street have augmented their now outdated Halloween display with various tacky Christmas monstrosities. They have snow globes, puffed up santas, twinkling lights of every color, dancing penguins and scary looking snowmen mixed in with the puffed ghouls, witches and goblins leftover from the last festive commercial venture. I decided that all this could mean only one thing: I needed to take down our cobwebs too.

I wish I could say the cobwebs were up to add to the Halloween atmosphere of the week but that would be a bit of a fib, since it would mean that I’ve been decorating for Halloween since June. I sort of think cobwebs add to the gaiety of watching the dust bunny races we have nightly in the “Great Room”. In fact, think that’s what makes the room great, built in dust bunny races. It’s better than that old television show Bowling For Dollars.

So, trying to avoid doing homework I decided to unbury the vacuum cleaner, dust it off and go for a spin around the house. I even swiffed before vacuuming for that extra touch.

I think it’s time for a party or two.

Art.




No Technicolor.

Originally uploaded by iMachias.

Earl and I are in Albany tonight for the semi-monthly bear night. We’re both a little tired, as last night we went to my uncle’s retirement party and had an absolutely fantastic time. While it was mostly his co-workers at the party, my whole family got together to go as well and it was the first time in a long time that I was able to hang out with all my city cousins.

I’m a blessed bear to have such a rockin’ family. There’s not a bad one in the bunch.

Tonight we’re in Albany. We’ve installed ourselves at the hotel for the obligatory disco nap. We just got back from an art exhibit of bear art. Our friends Sean (from Sean and Jeffrey) and (Angry) Alan were both displaying their wonderous talent.

I’ll stick to stick figures and leave the serious stuff to the truly talented.

I’m thinking tonight is going to be a great night.

The Weekend.

Last Friday when we were driving through Belfast I took the opportunity to listen to the BBC’s Radio One for the first time. I really like radio over in Europe (at least in the U.K. and Ireland), because the format seems to be considerably different (and much better) than what we have here in the States. There was more personality from the air talent and I find the music to be markedly better.

One of the songs I heard was “The Weekend” by Michael Gray. After a little bit of Googling I discovered that the track is a couple of years old but I still find it quite enjoyable.

If I were still in Top 40 radio, you’d hear this song A LOT on Wow-FM. Oh, I also really like the cinematography in this video. I’m not used to this much boobage, but the video is awesome.

Happy Halloween.

Halloween 1979.
My sister and I making Halloween candy bags, October 1979

So today is Halloween. I’m really not feeling the need to be someone else today so I don’t have a costume ready. Some will ask what I will wear if trick or treaters come knocking at the door. Earl and I have been together for 12 years. We’ve had one trick or treater in that entire time and it was the kid of one of Earl’s employees that was sucking up. The kid was imported from another town.

I was looking through old photos and found this picture of my sister and I stuffing Halloween candy bags. It’s from 1979. Notice I’m wearing Army fatigues back then as well. The quasi Dorothy Hammel haircut was so within regs. I don’t know why my sister is somewhat snarling. Perhaps she was trying to be spooky.

If I’m so inspired tonight perhaps Blue Marvel will make an appearance before November arrives.

Linguistics.

I have always been fascinated by the countless variants of the English language. I don’t know if it’s a latent actor hidden in my psyche somewhere or what, but whenever we travel I purposely focus on listening for differences in the speech patterns of the native and try to file that information away for future use.

That being said, I love the Irish accent, especially the speech patterns and sounds found in Dublin. Since our visit to Ireland I shall always enjoy a tomato (tah-mah-toe) instead of a toe-may-toe.

When I was in college the first time around I took a speech and theatre class in preparation for becoming a music teacher. I think it may have been one of the only classes I never missed because I was fascinated with the way my professor spoke. She was from Toronto and sounded a lot like the CBC’s Barbara Budd. It was fascinating that while Toronto was only a few hours away, her accent and turn of phrase was considerably different from my own, which was somewhat different from my native Western New York classmates. I think I picked up a few of that professor’s speech patterns and they’ve stuck with me over the years.

When Earl first introduced me to his family it was then that I realized that he spoke nothing like the rest of them. Since he’s a Philadelphia boy through and through it took me by surprise that he didn’t sound the part. He doesn’t drink “wooder” like his brothers and sisters did. Apparently he purposely shook off the accent when he left home. I think that’s cool.

There are many accents that sound somewhat offensive to me. I’ll reserve the list for myself so I don’t offend anyone that may be reading this, but there are some places in the United States that in my mind downright mangle our language. As I’ve met fellow bloggers face to face over the years, I’ve noticed that many of them don’t sound like the region they live in. Perhaps I’m not the only one that is conscious of my accent and always trying to improve upon it.

I do find some phrasing quite delightful, for example, there was a sweet cashier at a Chick-Fil-A in central Georgia who responded with “My pleasure” instead of the pedestrian “You’re Welcome” when I said thank you for the meal she had just handed me. I don’t know why I found that charming but it was nonetheless. When Earl and I were having our photos taken with tourists last week (when we were in our kilts), I asked one woman where in the midwest she was from and I was guessing Wisconsin. The “o”s and the “don’t you knows” gave it away. The northern midwest accent is another that I find cute. And I always enjoy speaking with Canadians regardless of the region they call home, since they seem to approach the English language in a less-lazy fashion that we do here in the States.

As I look over this blog entry, I realize that regardless of the accent I’m using I tend to babble a lot.

Thoughts At 37,000 Feet.

Aer Lingus.
I’m writing this blog entry on my iPhone. We are currently en route from Dublin to New York on Aer Lingus flight EI105. We’ve just finished lunch, the latest Harry Potter movie is showing. The headphone jacks in our row don’t work. The fasten seat belt sign is on, many passengers are ignoring it and this irks me to no end. I can’t tolerate people who think they are better than the most mundane rules. If you’re going to protest against rules, protest against something important like the Patriot Act or something. Don’t waste your energy on protesting little things like the Fasten Seat Belt sign. There is a reason that it’s on.

As I look out the window I see little aside from the wing of the airplane, a few fluffy clouds and a hint of the Atlantic. Since I am quite bored, I’m finding myself lost in my thoughts.

I feel like that with this trip some sort of page has been turned in my life. Before leaving Dublin I checked my midterm grades and I’m doing better than I expected, so I feel a renewed excitement about school. I’m also eager to learn more about Ireland and it’s people. My soul resonated with the Irish in a way that’s hard for me to describe. Perhaps there is a reason for my being the only redhead in the family in my generation after all.

Life is good, there is no denying that. I guess I just continue to strive to make it better.

Dublin, Ireland.

Dublin, Ireland.

Rosie O’Donnell has been asked in interviews why she has a home in Miami. After all, she was raised on Long Island and for most of her adult life she has lived in the New York area. Rosie simply responds that the first time she landed in Miami, something inside clicked, she felt something magical and she felt like she was “home”.

I felt like that the moment I arrived in the City Centre of Dublin. I’ve been fortunate enough to have traveled to many cities in the United States and Canada. I’ve loved many of these cities. Albuquerque is beautiful. Phoenix is stunning. Denver in breathtaking.

None of these cities have stirred me the way Dublin has.

I realise that I’m looking at this beautiful city through the eyes of a tourist. However, I’ve loved everything I’ve seen and what little I’ve experienced in the past 48 hours.

I’m looking forward to visiting Dublin again soon.

Today we took a bus tour that pointed out many of the landmarks sprinkled throughout the city. It was a double-decker bus and naturally we rode on the top bunk. The sites were beautiful and the history is impressive. We spent the rest of the day walking the busy, pedestrian only Dawson Street shopping district. We looked at a lot of things and bought a few. Earl and Rick & Helen were ready to take a nap in the mid-afternoon, I secured them at the hotel and went back out and explored more of the city at my own pace. I wanted to drink in the energy, the friendly nature and the beautiful accent of the natives. So I walked and walked at a brisk pace for more than two hours, walking down cobblestone streets and looking down narrow alleys. I sat on a bench for a bit and just watched the passerbys. I made observations and comparisons to their counterparts in the States.

I have to say it, I loved what I saw.

Tomorrow we head home on a jet plane. Through pictures, blog entries and vivid memories, I hope to take a little bit of Ireland with me.

And I look forward to coming back soon.