If you ever feel like a novel about a gay guy marrying a straight girl he hates just for the gifts and money they will get from each other’s family, his being the New York mafia from his mother’s second marriage and hers from some fake dutchess living in England who should be paying for the wedding but since she is fictional, is played by some coked up drag queen brought in only to make outrageous excuses for the mafia family to actually pay and who really cannot function unless she is high on a mixture of coke and Ecstasy but once totally relaxed manages to charm the balls of this “one-foot-in-the-grave” mobster family don with a penchant for Harlequin like novels and who will kill the gay guy if he finds out the rumours about him being gay are true, making all this difficult because the gay guy being an ass has also enraged an older gay man by stealing his boyfriend 6 months prior to the big wedding plan and who in return is now in a position of blackmailing our main gay guy for money in exchange of dirty pictures he has obtain of this main gay guy and his best friend naked in bed in the middle of the act who was only there to try and help him out even if he couldn’t keep his pants on long enough to think of the consequences of their silly secret rekindled romance but who in returns finally enlist the help of his composer/partner/girl-friend with has an amazing knack for solutions to some tough problems, then you should read Blue Heaven by Joe Keenan.
That book is all that and much more…

Total fun I tell you!

I have also read Putting On The Ritz by the same author and it is an equal rollercoaster of laughter and comedy of errors, I swear, I really laughed out loud reading these books.. I’m so looking forward to My Lucky Star, his latest, but that will have to wait until aftre I’m done with the books my hubby gave me on my special day.

Ah, yeah, Joe Keenan is also responsible for the most amazing Frasier episodes, you will recognize his timing and style easily.

Happy reading.

Today, my dad would have turned 75 and I know I’ll be thinking of him more as everytime I have to write today’s date on forms will be a reminder of his birthday.

This morning I woke up thinking about how we inherit genetic traits of our parents but those don’t mold us into the people we grow up to be. We may LOOK like them, but the genes we get from them don’t necessarily make us ACT like them. We spend our youth looking at our parents, emulating them if we like what we see, or doing the opposite if we don’t. As adult we make our own decisions but in the back of our mind, we somehow do certain things the way our parents used to when we were growing up under their care.

One thing my dad gave me comes to mind immediately when I think of the way I am today:

I love movies, ever since I was a kid I’ve loved them. One of my first memories is going to Saturday matinees with my dad and feeling totally special sitting in the theatre. In the late sixties they would show a lot of Gladiator type movies, Sinbad type movies, lot’s of “lost in the Jungle” type movies, tons of “adventure” movies that were definitely the precursor to the Indiana Jones series. Also James Bond movies… those were even more special as they were deemed “For 14 Yrs or Older” but my dad took me to a few of them before I was of “age” as we both shared the joy of watching the spy in action with his amazing cars and gadgets. Movies became an easy place to escape and let the imagination run wild and I know I have to thank him for that.

Of course there are many other traits I have stolen from him… I can be very outspoken when I disagree with something. I vote Liberal. I love to garden. I love practical jokes, but not necesarily on the receiving end… We both loved to listen to a call-in radio show where the host pretended to be a different character to trick people while on the phone… sort of like Candid Camera but with a phone instead. Just before I moved away from home, he used to drive me to the bus station every morning and that particular programme would be on during our drive and we always laughed out loud together.

Happy birhday dad, I know you’re having a good one.

Have you ever watched a movie that sounded funny based on the preview and then while watching it you realize that the only funny thing was shown in the preview…
We managed to get through to Strange Wilderness just because I insisted on seeing this scene… which made us laugh… and even more so after going back to that scene…

Ho ho ho ho hoooo
Hoooooo ho ho ho hooooo
Hoooo ho ho ho ho hoooo
HOOOOOOOOOOOO ho ho ho hoo

I guess with car sales suffering, marketing companies have no choice but to offer better commercials. If you’re going to make fun of something, do it in style I say:

KIA

SUBARU

I was always a rebel.. here’s the face I gave the bus drivers in Montreal in 1986:

Hate is a word you will find prominently on this blog. I use it in its title, I use it to name one of the pages, I use it in many stories as well. I use the word mostly to try and bring some comic relief by demonstrating little quirks we could totally do without to make our space a better one. But the other day while reading Phronk’s blog I was forced to think about the real meaning of the word. See he wrote this story after reading this one from GENERATION X-POSE, and although I really agree with both ideas, it made me think that I could be more careful with the use of the word.

On this note, I hate AIDS.
AIDS is totally unnecessary, there’s no purpose for it. I’ve lost a lot of good friends to its related illnesses. In fact, hating AIDS has made me want to do something about it. I’m not a Doctor nor a Scientist, so that’s definitely not the area I could help from, but awareness and raising funds are two things I certainly could do. Through the years, I have hated AIDS enough to do something about it. Here’s the first of many stories I will share on this:

19 years ago, my best friend, at the time, died after a long battle against AIDS, his beaten body couldn’t take anymore of the illnesses related to the HIV virus, and there wasn’t much we could do but watch the person we loved slowly slip away from us. His family didn’t really want anyone to know what he died of, they told people he had cancer, as if it was less shameful. This didn’t sit well with me and I wanted to do something for him, something that would let people know he didn’t fight in vain.

The AIDS QUILT PROJECT was coming to Montreal to display a portion of their exhibition at the Olympic Stadium and it dawned on me that I could add his name to it. So I went to work, finishing just a few days before having to submit it. I then decided to go show my friend’s mother as I had gotten close to his family through the years. She liked it at first until she realized what it was for, then the screams started. She called her daughter-in-law from her balcony, across the street, to come stop me from doing what I intended to do otherwise everyone would know what her son died from if I gave it to the AIDS Quilt Project… I so wanted to bolt out of there but instead I lied and said I would keep it for myself, knowing very well, I wouldn’t.

The day after, I made my way to the Olympic Stadium on opening day of the quilt’s display and met with the committee who would take receipt of my handy work. Opening day meant the press was present and all of a sudden I was being photographed handing the quilt over. A journalist from Le Journal De Montreal (Montreal’s version of The Toronto Sun) asked if he could use the picture to give the story a more local flair. The organizers unfolded the quilt and opened it for all to see. I sheepishly stood next to them all as Jacques’ name was proudly displayed for everyone.

Lightbulb flash!

Vision flash of front page with me and the quilt!

Luckily, the story didn’t run with me in it, a gay city councilor came that night and the press got all excited about it and ran a more politically friendly piece, showing him and his mother walking through the exhibition. Part of me was relieved to not have to deal with Jacques’s mother, part of me was dissapointed as for the same reason. I know Jacques was a brave man and would have loved the exposure. Nonetheless, I had finished this quest to honour his name, to add another person to the list and making sure people realized this virus wasn’t going away, you couldn’t just ignore it.

If you ever have a chance to see the quilt, please go, it’s a VERY powerful show of love, it will leave you shaken, I promise. There is also the 1990 Academy Award winner documentary called Common Threads: Stories from the quilt that always leaves me crying like a man who’s lost someone special.

I’m just totally grooving to this song these days… and the video is a hell of a hoot.
When I first heard it, I thought it was a lost Cure song found in a vault locked since 1982. Plus that Kate and Cindy vibe from the back vocals isn’t bad at all… YEH!

Now dance dammit

I truly believe bad things happen to bad people and good things happen to people that are sometimes nice to certain people on certain day when in certain mood…

The following is the retelling of true stories of a boy at Starbucks:

Bad Karma
On our morning walk to work along Carlton St, DR and I chat about stuff and try to change the world with our flashing winning smiles against the grumpy faces of other walkers who just hate their lives or have not gotten their morning coffees yet, so hard to tell which these days. At College Station, I kiss him goodbye and then pull out my trusted iPod and add some groovy tunes to the rest of my walk which will see me to the Starbucks at Sick Kids’ Hospital for a Venti Mild With Room For Milk Please.
This particular morning, as I was walking toward the big double entrance doors at the hospital, I noticed in the reflection from the windows that this rather large marge of a woman was walking behind me. I open the door and sort of held it long enough for her to grab it behind me and then moved on to the second door and did the same. This is the time I usually remove the earphones from my ears and roll-up the cord around the iPod and put in back in my bag as I walk toward the coffee house. I would estimate the walk from the double doors to the Starbucks counter to be 121 steps, well, I’m that anal, I counted them… Upon step 24 I felt the presence of the large marge gaining on me once again. On step 39, I could see her in my peripheral vision. On step 58, we are shoulder to shoulder. On step 82, she passes me, totally going in the same direction as I am, and on step 119, she plunks her mass directly in front of me, cutting any chances I would’ve had to be before her in the line up for one of the two Baristas ready to serve their people. I could really tell she had put some effort (mostly by her panting) to make sure she’d be in front of me, so I rewarded her with a gentle morning acknowledgment such as: “You feel better now???”. She slightly turned her head without moving any other part of her body and didn’t answer, but she forced me a winning look from her eyes with a hint of a smile, and just like that she was next to be served as one guest left serving area #1 after paying. She cluelessly bolted directly at that Barista without being invited and waited for him to serve her. Unfortunately, that particular Barista suddenly needed to replenish the change in his cash register, having the most trouble opening a roll of dimes and was having none of serving the new guest until his task was completed. During the LONG 14 seconds that this took, serving area #2 cleared up and the lovely blond gentleman with a Haircut One Hundred look called on me and before I could say a word, said: “Venti Mild Room For Milk?”. I smiled and nodded yes. I gave him the usual $2.50 and took my drink to to the milk counter. I poured a bit of excess out of my cup, put in some skim milk, secured a lid on my cup and turned to make my way towards the office, all this time smiling at large marge who was still waiting to order her dozens of pre-breakfast muffins and possibly a “Venti Fat Mocha Latte Do Not Hold The Whip Seriously Dude Don’t Fuck With The Whip”.

Me = 1
Angry Beyotches = 0

Good Karma
Then later on that week, in the afternoon, as it is often customary, I visited a different Starbucks, the one at Elizabeth & Dundas for my afternoon “Venti Earl Grey One Bag With Room For Milk Please”. Now, I spend more time at this particular location as I regularly bring my book and sit for my hour lunch to read. The manager, a nice-ish looking Japanese Bear-ish guy, has always been very pleasant to me, it stems from one of my first visit when his smaller non-bear but limp wristed minion pointed out to him that I was wearing baseball hat with the word “Bear” on it and not-so-subtly said: “teehee, hey Boss, you’re not the only Bear in here anymore”. It made me smile and decided to call this place home for my afternoon teas. Most days I will go in there and never have to order, my drink will be waiting for me by the time I get to the cashier as the Manager or Minion will see me in the line-up and get it ready. It’s nice, I truly admit, and over the months, I have had a chance to chat with both of them and get to know them better. I even joked with Manager one day I came in and he notice his beard gone, I asked if he had done drag on the weekend or something. I must have caught him by surprise with the catty remark as he turned around too fast and knocked a couple of unopened coffee bags that were on his counter. He gave a strange look showing he didn’t really understand why I said that and I motion to the beard that was gone… He laughed, I laughed, Minion laughed. I ordered, I drank, I read, I went back to work.

Anyway, back to that afternoon not so long ago when I walked in for my tea and noticed Manager working on this newly added humongous microwave type apparatus behind the bar while Minion was alone working the cash register and the hot drink bar, while 9 people patiently waited in line… Manager says hello, I just roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest with a disgusted look that said I would probably have to wait more than 2 minutes to get my fix. He knows I’m joking of course, but stops what he’s doing, prepares a “Venti Earl Grey With One Bag And Room For Milk” and comes to the other side of the bar, in the line-up with the common people to give it to me and says in front of everyone else: “Sorry for the inconvenience sir, please come again”. I laugh and gladly take the drink but he won’t take my money, so I just walk towards the cash and give it to Minion, bypassing the others. As I turn back to go put skim milk in my tea, I noticed the woman that was in front of me (we’ll call her large marge #8 due to her massive ass and her position in the queue) and she is none too happy that the gay guy behind her got served this quickly like some sort of tea drinking royalty while her unhappy self will have to wait the 2 minutes to get her fix. I wink at her.

Me = 2
Angry Beyotches = 0… still

Be careful when putting on those new Levi’s…

Here is what’s new and on heavy rotation on my iPod Touch lately while at work. It’s perfect to block some of the idiots I work with:

UNDERWORLD – OBLIVION WITH BELLS

DR introduced me to this band when we first met and this is their latest album from last year. I’m totally loving this album. It is moody and beautiful. I am missing a hit like 2 Months Off, but it’s not stopping my enjoyment

JUNKIE XL – BOOMING BACK AT YOU

DR heard of them through Burnout Paradise on XBox 360. It’s fun and totally reminding me of the fun 80’s band. A great remake of Siouxie and the Banshees’ Cities in Dust.

PATTON OSWALT – WEREWOLVES AND LOLLIPOPS

Another import from the DR collection. Please take a listen if you have a chance. People at work think I’m crazy when I guffaw while working with the iPod on.

MOBY – LAST NIGHT

For someone who wasn’t making music in the 70’s and 80’s, he certainly captured the essence of the era. I find the dancy stuff much more interesting then the slow atmospheric numbers. You too will want to move in there.

MADONNA – HARD CANDY

Probably her best in years. I liked most songs instantly on the first listen. I still think the first release is the best effort of the album. Totally dancy fun.

DAVID CROSS – IT’S NOT FUNNY

Because one can never laugh enough while at work.

SHINY TOY GUNS – WE ARE PILOT

I first heard of them from the Razor commercial and looked them up on iTunes, liked it enough to buy the whole thing. Totally reminescent of the good new wave music, you know, the good stuff.

KYLIE MINOGUE – X

It took me a few tries, but it really endeared itself to me. I can see why some people would dismiss it easily, but there are some really fun numbers on this one. Not as good as the Fever cd but good enough to make me groove my tushie.

And what are you listening to these days?