DC and D3
Current mood: amused

I'm in DC today after a week of being the official "Transit Authority Supervisor/ Photographer / Roadie" for my friends, the Monika H. band. Our travels brought us to Columbus, Chicago, Indianapolis, Lexington, Nashville, Asheville and then finally to the District of Columbia. Photos to follow soon.

Dropped them off on the chinatown bus and stayed in our nation's capital to meet with clients and hang out with friends. While I'm here, I am having delicious Ethiopian food with my favorite Nikon rep this side of Japan! He got me a D3 in less than 24 hours and for slightly more than wholesale price! Nice one Derek! Thank you and thanks for dinner!

D.C. is a cool town. Colleen and I went to the National Portrait Museum and saw likenesses of our great (and not so great) Presidents. There was also a lovely portrait of Steven Colbert to ponder over while visiting the bathrooms.

5:53 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Snuggling
Current mood: Longing
Category: Longing Dreams and the Supernatural

I had two or even three dreams this morning that included tender kisses from all my crushes. What a helpless feeling. I want to be cuddled and kissed but there is no one to do so. This moment will pass... but the feeling is out of my control and that is very hard to accept.

8:27 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

So it goes... here's to you, Mr. Vonnegut!
Category: Life

The news of Kurt Vonnegut's death this morning hit me like a ton of bricks. I have always admired Mr. Vonnegut for his ironic humor, stinging observations, and unshaking belief in the good. Reading Vonnegut reminds me of my father. I have spent many hours turning pages from the beat generation and counter culture of the 60's; wondering if the experiences of the authors reflected those of my father growing up in a generation trying to find it's place in the post-war comfort of middle class. I just returned from a visit to my parents', and it is more clear than ever that they are getting old. I am beginning to help them carry their burdens as they age and it reminds me that I am completely grown up. I have also begun to notice that icons of my father's generation; who seemed they would forever symbolize free-thinking and hope and unity; are getting tired and sleepy. They are getting too old to continue. And if they do, they just look silly up there onstage with their tight leather pants and sagging jowls. Their fingers left the pulse long ago. I don't like seeing my father age, and I don't know where all that time went. What happened to all that hope they wrote about; marched about; sang about? And what is going to happen to me if I am from a generation that sizzles with cynicism straight out of the womb? I'd better get all those Dylan tapes onto MP3 before all hope is lost forever.


KURT VONNEGUT: I'm embarrassed to have lived this long. It's in terrible taste (laughs). You know I had a fire several years ago, and it would have been so shapely if I'd died in the fire. But here I am, and of course I'm suing the cigarette company because on the package they promised to kill me, and here I am.

Currently listening : The Very Best of Cat Stevens By Cat Stevens Release date: 28 March, 2000

10:14 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

Remembering
Category: Life

Today is the two year anniversary of the death of my dear friend, Nicole Dufresne. It is hard to imagine that it has been two years. I can feel that much time has passed... but not so much that I have a sense of the time in numbers. I can feel it in the distance between what were moments and are now memories. Nicole was a huge influence on my life from the first time I met her. She was full of vigor and ruthlessness, kidness and courage. She was the most courageous person I have ever known. Our friend, Will, once told me that she was fearless not because she had no fears, but because she was not afraid to confront them. A very astute statement of someone who pushed her boundries both internally and externally. Jesus, I miss her. Nicole's birthday was at the beginning of January and her death was at the end. I wish she could have stuck around to see how I've made my way here in the big city. She would have been so proud. Nicole had a way of believing in you before you could believe in yourself. It was contagious. She was so beautiful. I wish you all could have known her. Anyway, thinking of you today, Nicole. I love you very, very much.

5:07 PM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

The best dang vermin that ever there was!
Current mood: touched
Category: Life

I always forget about this when I come to Texas.

My Dad's house in Dallas is on a beautiful tree-lined street with old brick Tutor-style houses that go for blocks and blocks. The streets twist and knot back into themselves, providing us with a neighborhood haven of tranquility. It is quiet, clean and pretty. But it is not the lackluster, hollow appearance of the suburbs. There is character and personality in these homes.

As I sit on the front porch, watching the sun go down and doing some work on my laptop-- I see one. Then another. And another. And suddenly they are everywhere, zipping to and fro and leaving a magical tracer in their wake. The fireflies. Hundreds of them on the front lawn, never venturing too far into the heavens, but staying close to home as if to light the way for clarity to return from under the soul-breaking sun.

I love these fireflies. I used to catch them in jars when I was a kid. They symbolize serenity, peacefulness and hope. And at the same time, there is an ache of nostalgia. I am aware of my heartbreak, but it is from a distance.

I am recognizing many small gifts these days.

6:13 PM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

East Texas Chili Cookoff-- A Photodocumentary
Current mood: hungry

Chili Cookoffs are serious business, folks!

I came back to spend a week with the family in East Texas and much to my surprise, I was right in time for the annual "Gusher Days" fair in which the community comes out to celebrate the reason we're all here; oil! You see, back in the 1930's oil miners hit on a big ole' deposit of the crudest of crude right here in East Texas; setting in motion the cruel cycle of prosperity and abandonment in this red dirt county. As a kid growing up here, I catalogued many memories of the Friday night "street dance" where gentlemen and ladies alike dresses in thier bluest, tightest jeans and donned fancy ten-galloners on their well-coifed mullets and mall bangs and danced the night away in a blur of budweiser and funnel cakes. This was followed on Saturday by the fair itself which hosted a carnival, cariacture booths, craft tables and traveling corn-dog vendors. The discerning fair-goer, however, knew that the real action was in the Chili cookoff, in which spiced meat lovers from all over Texas come to slow cook their prized angus for the rest of us.

The ultimate goal of the serious chili cook is to win the World Chili Cookoff Competition (http://www.chilicookoff.com) and take home not only the distinguished honor of top chili creator, but also an impressive $30,000 grand prize-- more than enough to support another year of traveling chili showcasing. In order to get to the world competition, the participants have to rack up community competitions such as that at "Gusher Days" and advance to area, region, state and national competitions. Not as easy as it sounds, eh?

As it turns out, my very vocal and outgoing mother, who is an active member of this East Texan community despite still having her New Hampshire accent, has been judging the Gusher Days Chili Cookoff for over 10 years. That's how my father, myself, and Mom all ended up with a seat at the "Final Juding" table of this year's cookoff!

The Protocol:
After being given cold Budweisers, judging sheets, and "palate cleansers" we were told the rules of the judging process...

There are 19 chilis that have a number marked on the side of the styrofoam cup. Mark your sheet according to the corresponding number line on your sheet. Grade the chilis on a scale of 1 to 10. The Chilis are passed to the right and a new spoon is used for each spoonful. When you have tasted a chili, prepare your palate for the next chili by taking a deep swig of Budweiser and enjoying a nice saltine cracker.

How to judge a chili...
1. Open the lid and smell the aroma
2. Test the chili for color. Chili should be a deep red color.
3. Check for consistency. The chili should be meat and gravy only. Any chili containing unnecessary foods (such as vegetables, yuck!) have already been disqualified from the final competition. Thank goodness.
4. Take a bite of the chili and judge on texture, flavor and finish

Sound easy? No, Sir! The competition stared about 2pm and I hadn't eaten anything all day. So I was rearin' and ready to go. It was this experience that taught me the true definition of "Law of Diminishing Returns". The first few bites were delicious. Spicy, thick, meaty chili with hints of cumin, garlic, and various peppers felt good as they slid into my belly under the big Texas sun. But by number 10 I was drunk and sweating-not to mention full as hell! What's worse- I was beginning to second guess my ratings of the first few chilis! I mean, they all tasted relatively the same. Was number 6 really too soupy? Wasn't number 2 a bit salty? And come to think of it, I had bitten of a small chunk of gristle from number 4! With a bit of perseverence and another Budweiser, I finally managed to make it through all 19 chilis and moved into my role as cheerleader for my Dad, who wasn't faring as well as the rest of us (he looked a little green by the end).

We didn't stick around to see who won. It seems that when one's system is not accustomed to so much chili, it is important to be near a facility equipped to accommodate one's body's rejection of the traditional grub. But I think that with a strick regiment of daily conditioning involving more red meat and peppers, I'll be ready for next year's competition! I just need to pick up a pair of coyboy boots on Bedford Ave.


The Feast


The Judges


Used Spoons


Gusher Days


The Taster


The Onlookers


The Novice


The Hopeful Contender


Counting Ballots


Participation Prize (Unfortunately, this t-shirt was too small for many of the judges)


A Full Judge


I can get you guys one of these for $39.95


Amazingly, we couldn't find this guy for three hours!

2:54 PM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

MySpaceBalls
Category: Parties and Nightlife

I recently got an email from a myspace friend who said that they saw me at a certain event and didn't say anything because it was "sort of weird". Meaning, that when a cyberstranger becomes a living, breathing body with real-time reactions, everything changes --- ooh, scary! Maybe you're not as funny. Maybe you've been lying in your photos. Maybe you aren't really 14 years old.

What the hell? Isn't that the point of myspace? I guess that we all use it for personal, varying purposes, but it doesn't make any damn sense to me to fill my friends with people that I'll never meet (unless, of course, they are just so fekkin cool that I just want to look at their profile over and over -- yeah, you, Bernie Dexter!)

Then I realized that, holy shit!, I've also done that! Yup, just 2 weeks ago I saw a friend/stranger from my friendslist that I HAD JUST EMAILED that same day as he was getting off the subway at Bedford! But did I say anything? NO!

So, here is my proposal, MySpace... If we should ever see one another in passing let us not avert the eyes and secondguess ourselves. Let's stand tall and walk right up to each other and say "Hey! You're that _______ from MySpace! You're in my top 8!" I'd rather squirm in akward conversation after I remember the penis car photo I sent you last week than walk away thinking... "Damn. That was that _________ from MySpace. He/She seemed pretty cool."

If this is agreeable to you, please confirm the pact by sending your reply etched onto the side of a Nikon AF DX Fisheye-Nikkor 10.5mm f/2.8G ED or embedded into a Lexar 8 gig Compact Flash Card. Thank you.

6:57 PM - 3 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

The Gym
Current mood: accomplished
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

The Gym. The thing that separates the overachievers from the underachievers. The space where abs are sculpted, romances are born, and body fluids are left puddling in the crevices of the black vinyl cushions of the bicep machine.

About 6 months ago I received a free 3 month membership to Equinox Fitness Club. If you haven't seen them, they are quite a marvel of vanity and steel; occupying more than 15 prime corners of Manhattan. With membership fee of almost $200 per month, this is the see-and-be-seen of "fitness clubs". So as the expiration date was quickly approaching to redeem this nifty little kickback, I wandered into the closest and most convenient location- the Equinox Fitness Club at 19th & Broadway.

Getting through the front gate was painless enough. I was walked through all the options of personal trainers and classes by a very friendly woman whom, to my surprise, did not scoff at my position of almsman. I viewed my options, including the 12 sessions with a personal trainer for $816; took my newly laminated all-access membership card; and headed for the locker rooms.

But wait! Whatever would I wear? I had not brought any gym clothes with me (in part because I do not own any), nor did I have a lock to lock the locker with. Thankfully, the gym had a clothing store right next to the gourmet cafe in front. Whew! I rummaged through the racks to find just the perfect pants that would not grip too tight at the waist (thus exposing the layer of protective... um... layer); and likewise would allow room at the thighs yet cling just enough to accentuate the curvature of my nicely shaped buns. Daunting task as you are beginning to understand. Next I would need shoes, socks (not too short yet also not folded), and an assortment of tops and sports bras. I guess I also need a gym bag, a second set of deodorant, lotion, and hair products, as well as a fashion magazine to read while running in place. But lets get back to the pants. I find the perfect pair to hug me in all the right places and for a moment I felt like I was part of something greater than myself; some place that only the beautiful and rich gain access to... a dimention of euphoric numbness and exclusion! But the $98 price tag on the polyester based work out pants knocked me back down to reality. So much for that. I leave, un-worked-out.

The next day, I have drudged up my old $9 sneakers and found a t-shirt that isn't too dumpy. I've packed my overnight duffel bag and included the only pair of pants that might work -- blue cotton-t flair pants from Forever 21. By the time I get to the gym and change into the absurb ensemble, it is too late to turn back; no matter how ridiculous my pants look with the extra material tied into a knot just below the knee.
I walk past the 5'9" 120lb brunette and head to studio 2 for "Body Sculpt" from 5-6pm.

I can only say that staying through to the end of my first arobics class is one of the greatest feelings I've ever had. When my hands eventually stopped shaking and my face resumed a healthy color, I felt an interesting sense of accomplishment, meditative peace, and inspiration. Those jiggles are no match for my mind.

Later that evening, I comptemplated my experience over a martini and 2 cigarettes.

7:09 AM - 1 Comments - 1 Kudos - Add Comment

Naughty MySpace
Current mood: savage
Category: Blogging

I can feel your thousands of eyes batting at me from across the room. The heavy breathing keeps me up at night. It is in the crevice of your strange refreshing bosom that I want to bury my face and weep . You will not stop until you have swollowed me whole.

1:45 PM - 4 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Imette St. Guillen
Current mood: crushed

News travels fast these days. Still, it took a week and a half for news of the death of Imette St. Guillen to reach my ears. For those of you just tuning in, Ms. St. Guillen was out with friends late Thursday night. She left the bar in SoHo and was killed that night. This story echoes the evening that my friend, Nicole DuFresne, was murdered just over 13 months ago. And perhaps that is some explanation for why I am so shaken and feel a million miles away from my own body- as I hope Imette was. The similarities in these two murders are abundant; both being beautiful women with big personalities and high aspirations. However, the savage brutality displayed by the killer of Ms. St. Guillen is more than I can bear.


This is one of the most disgusting cases of misdirected anger I have ever heard. Murder, rape and war have existed since the beginning of civilization. But really, people, why are we repeating ourselves like children that refuse to learn a lesson? On the evening of Imette's death, someone took a beautiful young girl and destroyed her. They destroyed her body. They destroyed her breath. But most fearsome of all, they destroyed her soul in the moments of life. Nobody knows the details leading to her death, but we all know what she went through. Bound and darkened, in pain and alone. Full of fear and struggle. Degraded. Raped. Tortured. Effortful and useless to prevent her own demise. And someone did this with intention. Someone or some persons took control of her life because they had no control over their own.

I am filled with shame for this person and feel a deep sorrow for humanity. When someone takes something from another person, it severs the unity between all energy, all of our lifes and shared human experience. But we keep taking from each other in big ways and in small ones, with disregard to the consequences. This person has destroyed so many lives in their quest for validation -- their quest for a thrill-- their attempt to feel alive by looking death in the face. There is nothing in the world so selfish as murder.

I am so sorry, Imette. God bless you, please.

3:18 PM - 1 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment