12.04.09
Posted in City Life, The days at 6:08 am by Beau
I missed last night’s spontaneous rally at Times Square after the defeat of the Marriage Equality bill by the NY State Senate yesterday afternoon. When I heard more than a thousand people showed up to voice their outrage over the defeat my first thought was, “I’m not sure counting unaware tourists trying to get their theater groove on at TKTS necessarily constitutes a pro-gay marriage stance or organized outrage at the New York State Senate.” But whatever, I let it go.
The rest of the post can be read here.
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08.20.09
Posted in Being Better, City Life, Fun, Vanity at 11:21 am by Beau
Running through Times Square. 2009 NYC Half Marathon
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08.17.09
Posted in Being Better, City Life, Fun at 6:06 pm by Beau
NYC Half Marathon 2009 Start
I competed in my first big competitive race yesterday morning, running and finishing the NYC 1/2 Marathon. The fact that I can say and not be lying that I finished the race while still actually running is something. I’d planned on finishing it that way and felt I’d finish it that way up until about mile 9 when my thoughts started to betray me and the idea of just stopping and walking it piped up. By mile 11, I’d had it and it was only the voice of a good friend who coached and mentored me in the ways of running that put me through. But I finished in 2:10 or just over 10 minutes a mile with each successive mile actually improving in time or what I now know as a negative split. The heat and humidity wasn’t anything I was used to running in and it beat me down brutally until there wasn’t much left to drag across the finish line.
The course itself was something pretty spectacular. It was 13.1 miles that looped around Central Park and then spit us out on 7th Avenue where we ran down to Times Square, the entire avenue blocked and lined with spectators, bands, the gay cheerleaders, cops and firemen. That was a shining moment where you can’t help but get a huge kick of adrenaline and I did…but then we turned the corner and ran down 42nd Street through Disneyland and out onto the West Side Highway. To look down that sun-spotted stretch and know that there were four looming miles knocked the wind out of me but I pressed on as did the 14,000 people running along with me.
My email to people who’ve asked today how the race went included two milestone events that were paramount to me in this race: “I finished” and “I didn’t poop myself”. The second one seems to take people by surprise and I’ve thrown off more then a few people from ever running by explaining that shitting oneself during a race isn’t unheard of. Jubilee Chris, Voice of the Lord, Hand of Light, and Power Tool of the Good Carpenter, also ran with me and regaled me with tales of how the front-runners in the race, those of whom each second in the run matters, often wait until just before the start and then pee, having deferred to their mental conditioning being the priority rather than a potty break. I would like to have said I scoped out said puddles of urine when I finally got up to the starting line but by that time I was already at the 5:00 minute mark and I wanted to make sure my fancy-schmancy shoe timer RFID thingy made as close as contact to the starting mat so my times would register so I missed the pools of urine.
Overall, I’m happy to say I ran it, clapped for and whistled at the cute gay cheerleaders, got to run through Times Square like a returning champion, and finished the race. I can’t imagine feeling the way I did and knowing that I was only half-way through if this had been the full marathon so it got me re-thinking that whole idea. I imagine I’ll do it again next year and know for sure I’m going to keep up training and working out and that’s the win for me: not letting how absolutely brutalized and beat down I felt at the end ruin the feel I get from running.
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06.28.09
Posted in Being Better, City Life, Fun, The Blog at 8:50 am by Beau
It was Gay Pride in NYC this whole past week and as part of the festivities, I opted to skip going up to the house to lounge around the deck and weed through my burgeoning garden and flowerbeds for staying in the city to have some fun. I participated in the 5-mile Pride Run through Central Park on Saturday morning with about 3000 other runners through the sunny, warm morning. We wound our way from the Upper East Side over and down the West Side, cresting at the bottom of the park where the Essex House and the Plaza rear up into the New York skyline and then back up the East side.
I’ve mentioned before that I find the run in Central Park to be a particularly difficult one though I can’t figure out the reason. The hills aren’t close to what I’m running back at home and I’ve conquered the distance some time ago but never the less, I’m really working to finish a circuit through the park and yesterday was no different. I managed to almost live up to my stated pace that placed me in the first third of the running heat and finished with an overall pace of 8:30 per mile. I was trying to be in high geek fashion by running in my all cotton “Rage of the Red Lanterns” t-shirt rather than my usual running gear of wicking this and moisture barrier that but as a novice, I am quickly learning fashion doesn’t really fly and it’s all about comfort. I was thoroughly drenched by the end of the run and almost over-heated. More importantly though completely unsurprising, not a single person noticed or commented on the shirt and so I am now that much smarter in leaving my Geek at home and sticking with the routine…unless Nike starts making comic-inspired running gear. And then I’m all over it.
Today I’m marching in the Pride Parade, having been invited by some pretty esteemed bloggers to join their blogging group. Even though I’ve inadvertently evolved over to micro-blogging through Twitter more than actual blogging these days, it’s still great to be invited into a group who I’ve respected and been reading for years so I’m pretty excited. We’re in section 8 behind Club Atlantis (so I’m assuming lots of loud music and go-go boys on a float which will be fun), carrying a huge sign of the New York City Gay Bloggers & Digital Activists with the logo above and all wearing similar white t-shirts with logo and our names on them. I’ve only ever attended the parade and never marched after all these years so I think this is going to be a fun day though I can imagine after hauling our asses down from 54th street to the Village, there are going to be some tired dogs. But then that is what the Pier Dance after is for, to dance some life back into them so I might pop up there.
And to think that all this came out of a bunch of pissed off, abused, and feed up queens who took to the streets 40 years ago this month at the Stonewall Riots and ushered in the Gay Rights movement. Sometimes I think 40 years seems such a short time ago and then I think about it and realize there has been so much work done to provide rights and protections and we’re still not there yet. Closer, for sure, but not there yet. So we march and we stay visible and we hopefully change one mind at a time by being our authentic selves, taking pride that as a group, the GLBT community is a diverse mix of great individuals that doesnt’ have to go mainstream or gentrify to fit in if we don’t want to. We were born out of a sexual variation that created and followed it’s own organic growth to where we are today and the colors and people and attitudes and life styles on display at the parade testify to that. So I’m taking pride today and reminding myself that these are all my brothers and sisters and we’re people of the world that count and make a difference, in big and little ways alike.
Happy Pride!
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02.06.09
Posted in Being Better, City Life, Fun, art at 2:22 pm by Beau
I have an unwritten list of things that I would like to do or should like to do in New York City before the end of my days here and I marked one off last night, finally.
Whenever you talk to people who live here, most have common NYC things that we all take for granted that we’ve never done, even though we’ve lived here for years and years. I don’t even remember how many years it was before Jeff and I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge and that should be one of those requisite events that every New Yorker does when they get to the city…it’s free and the view is stunning.
Section of Maxfield Parrish's "Old King Cole"
So on my unwritten list of which things seemingly pop out of nowhere was having drinks at the King Cole Bar in the St. Regis Hotel. It wasn’t so much about having expensive cocktails in a dark-paneled, up scale location where supposedly the Bloody Mary was introduced to the US, but rather the famous Maxfield Parrish mural backing the entire length of the bar.
Maxfield Parrish is a favorite artist and illustrator of mine. I’ve collected replicas of his work and always try to have at least a post-card hanging in my cube or office. Years ago Jeff and I took the day and drove down to a retrospective of his at the Philadelphia Museum of Art which was amazing.
So Jeff was a trooper and met me on 55th and 5th last night for a quick after-work drink. The bar is as dark and dark-paneled as you could hope for which seemed to be the perfect setting for the mural which is 8ft tall and spans 30 feet across behind the bar. The beauty and hallmark of Parrish’s work was his use of a glazing technique rather than just outright painting. In this, the light seems to pass through the layers of glaze and then reflect back out, causing the painting to glow from an internal light. The darkness of the bar framed this effect beautifully. The colors Parrish used, also specific to him and his art, were perfect and warm and inviting.
I spent most of my glass of red wine staring at the mural realizing other than Parrish painting it, I didn’t know much about it so I googled it up when we got home. What I’m most disappointed about was learning the legend of the wry smile on King Cole’s face, thought to have been modeled after John Jacob Astor who originally commissioned the mural for his Knickerbocker hotel bar. As the tale goes, there was an unwritten competition among illustrators of the day to see who could sneak the act of flatulence into one of their public works. Supposedly Parrish won this contest with Old King Cole. Not only is the King smiling a secret smile but the reactions of his flanking knights give it away.
It’s not the DiVinci Code, but I’ll take it because its funny and seems to be appropriate for early-American illustration.
When I was reading up on the mural I also found this article in the NYTimes article about its restoration a few years ago that also relates the secret farting tale.
Anyone coming to NYC with some time to kill, it would be worthwhile to sneak into the King Cole bar and check out this work of art. I’m glad I finally did.
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11.17.08
Posted in Being Better, City Life, The days, other stuff at 12:42 pm by Beau
Jeff and I were in the city this weekend so we were able to attend the Gays Rallying on Saturday afternoon. Good crowd, unexpected sunny skies, stood in front of these dreamy guys and got all melty, and finally got to meet Father Tony (dreamy and got all melty again). It was a good rally though honestly, Gays, can we come up with some new chants and rallying cries other than “We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it!”. I felt like I was back in 1993 and was going to pull out my Freedom Rings.
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06.18.08
Posted in Being Better, Books, City Life, art at 8:42 am by Beau
As it’s Gay Pride coming up this weekend in New York, I decided to celebrate my diversity by a quick swing through Borders. These ended up being my actual purchases. Believe me, I’m as surprised as the next person. Jeff was actually rendered speechless.
The McKinsey Way
Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats
Craft Magazine: June 2008
Bear’s Life Magazine: June 2008
Martha Stewart: Weddings, June 2008
American Artist Series: Watercolor, Summer 2008
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06.17.08
Posted in Being Better, City Life, Health and well-being, Mom, Vanity at 10:54 am by Beau
I turned 38 this past Sunday and though wishful thinking because of the potential hot twin boffing we could do and video for x-tube, I am not his twin. Though in general, I’d regard 38 as one of those birthdays that is a blurry slide into 40, this one is interesting to me for several reasons. First and foremost, my father, when he was this age, had a debilitating brain aneurysm that quite literally shattered and change irrevocably the lives of many, many people. I’m certainly not pointing this out because I’m all doom and gloom about the task of actually trying to live through 38 unscathed but rather, the stangeness of now being the age of my father and being able to see for the first time how much of his life he had in front of him.
At the time of his aneurysm, I was 14 and he was my parent so what did I know about it? Now I have a much different perspective. I’m just starting my life and finding it’s groove. The home life, the home, the man, the work, the friends…all things are really, really good and I can only see better days ahead and I’m sure that is how my Dad must have been too. His masonary business was taking off and he was venturing out into investing into finanicial partnerships that were going to make him even more successful than he had been. He was known for the quality of his work and the integrity of his work ethic. All this ended the moment he blacked out and came crashing down to the sidewalk where a stranger found him. And so there is some heaviness about being 38 that I didn’t quite grasp so fully before. I often think about all the things my Mom I and would talk about now if she was still alive and I think she’d be shocked and pleased at the understanding I’ve come into. I completely get how young they felt and how young at heart they were.
Related, but much more Me!Me!Me! is that idea that at 38, my parents had four sons, 19, 14, 10, and 9. I can’t even begin to fathom having kids and what it means at this age, let alone to have four, two of which were adolesents. Jeff and I are spoiled and rotten and if I don’t get my weekly comics, I’m grumpy and distressed so what did my parents give up so that we could be taken care of? The mind reels. I told Aunt Pam, who spent so much time with my parents along with all the cousins at that time, that the big secret I think I figured out is that not one of them had any clue about parenting and were really no different then I am now at this age…they just had to fake it and make it look like they knew what they were doing. They did a good job, by the way, in that we’re all still alive and kicking and generally happy and most of my cousins and brothers and their families are having their own babies and whatnot so what’s old is new again. Still, my mind reels.
And so 38! I actually had a hard time believing I wasn’t going to be 40 this year and a little disappointed too. I have a total hard-on for the 40+ crowd and don’t even get me started on the hotness of salt-n-pepper hair so to think I still have two years to go is just something else. I’m not the most patient of people but nothing I can do about it other than just continue to enjoy the good days and work on being better.
The whole sha-bang though, was clarified for me this morning, as I was running a practice 5K in the Central Park this morning, getting ready for the real deal NYC Corporate Challange coming up on Thursday. I’m in no way the hotness of him, or him, or him, or her, or the others who continually inspire and push me to pass on the bread at dinner and get up at 5:30 to go running but it’s a good first step for me to run the 5K. I’ve been on the treadmill for months but there isn’t anything like actually running outside and this morning was SPECTACULAR. Cool and low humidity, the sun was out, and I was reminded the very best of NYC is being able to run through Central Park, looking at the museums, and the Dakota, and the Bethesda Fountain and the Jackie O Resevoir, or finding a statue of a crouching panther hidden in the blossoming hydrangeas along the east side of the Met that I hadn’t ever seen before. I was just banging out a fantastic run when I totally got cruised by a hot bearded guy running the opposite direction. My gaydar pinged so hard I just HAD to turn and glance over my shoulder at him one more time and totally caught him doing the same thing! I’m 38 and I still get cruised. I mean, please. How much better could today have been? Perfection or endorphins, it totally doesn’t matter cause I’ll take the cloud I’m rocking on right now.
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06.09.08
Posted in City Life, The days, Uncategorized, traveling for work at 7:32 am by Beau
My time in Philadelphia is drawing to a close. After six weeks and two engagement extensions, we’re wrapping up the project and bugging out. My weeks have gone from reasonable hours to excessive, excessive to the point where my performance mentor has called twice to let me know I’m working at about 136% utilization. Supposedly there is some point when utilization hits a certain point and an email, I’m guessing, is generated so that the people who care are notified and can “reach out” as we say in consultant land. I appreciated the gesture, both times really, but honestly, you don’t think I don’t know that I’m working the kind of hours that equate into 136% utilization? I’m just saying.
But Philadelphia has been good. It’s a city I hadn’t spent much time in though honestly, I guess I could still say that since I haven’t hardly left the gayborhood except for a martini run at the Continental diner that one time. So for me, Philadelphia is the gayborhood and that’s OK. Good food, good architecture, good-looking menz, and street cruising. I’m even a regular at a bar and I haven’t ever had that, anywhere, not even (or, especially) in New York, where I’ve lived since 1996.
So I’m departing Philadelphia this week with another engagement under my belt, this one challenging and difficult in ways that I hadn’t expected, but better for it…always better for new experiences, pleasant or not. I’m NYC bound next week and slipping in a short 5K corporate run next Thursday then it’s off to my next assignment the week after which will carry me through until the end of July. I understand jealousy can greet me, even from the best of friends, because of my cosmopolitan consultanty life-style, getting to jet off to strange and exotic places, seeing and meeting new people. This of course is always the “one-after” engagement meaning the one after this next one coming up, which for me just happens to be in Omaha, Nebraska. I mean, Omaha, Nebraska in July…all of July. And me with my whole humidity issues and East Coast mentality; a recipe for disaster, I’d think. In preparation, I’ve shaved my head down to my buzz cut so I don’t have to deal with hair product and the perfect zshuzz of curls styled ever so carefully to look like they effortlessly fell that way out of the shower. As far as the East Coast mentality, I’m not sure you can even get a 136% utilization rate west of the Mississippi, even if you find that elusive 25th hour in the day. But I understand Omaha does have some gentlemanly pubs of a certain caliber and I was raised in farm country, after all, so I’m sure I’ll be able to slip in, under the radar, and figure it out.
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05.28.08
Posted in City Life, The days at 10:35 am by Beau
I found the local gentleman’s hang out in the gayborhood here in Philly early on in this engagement and now manage to head down for a late evening cocktail a few evenings each week. Though shy, I’ve managed to engage the bartenders so I know know their names and they know mine and know that I like my Sapphire gin and tonic with extra limes. It’s all rather sedate but it’s a nice end to long days and it beats watching reruns of shows I could give a fig about in a lonely, sterile hotel room and pretend that somehow that is considered living.
Now that I have a regular presence, some of the locals are becoming familiar to me and I can watch them pass through, sit at their regular seats, drink their drinks and then head home, much the way I do. I get some stares and I’m never sure if it’s disdain for being an outsider or hunger for the smell of new meat. I smile through it all and engage in friendly conversation when the occasion strikes which suits me just fine. Nothing too heavy and my ring usually ends any conversations of indelicate offers before they begin.
Last night, a gentleman sat down next to me and I could smell his stale cigarette breath a mile off. He was sort of mussed about all over and I took it to mean he was probably on his regular bender. We chit-chatted a bit and he reference my ring and asked how long I’d been with my partner. After I told him thirteen years, I asked him whether he was with anyone to which he paused, smiled, and then told me it was complicated.
I was of two minds about this answer. Of course anything can be complicated but really, the question is pretty simple. I didn’t want to know any details about open relationships or crumbling circumstances or any of the drama that can liein between. I just wanted a frame of reference. But he sort of left it at ‘complicated’ and we talked a bit about the historic Philadelphia neighborhoods and blue-bloods and how New York is different but sometimes the same. We filled up minutes where I tickled the ice cubes in my empty glass until he finally circled back to his ‘complicated’ relationship. The ‘complicated’ part is apparently a wife and three kids at home in the Philadelphia suburbs who don’t know that when he’s out at a ‘meeting’ for work, it usually hooking up with guys who don’t care that he’s unavailable to them for a long-term or emotional relationship because he’s in love with his wife.
I guess I’m never too surprised about these things and while the justifications of his bisexuality really just cloud the deceit, I’m also not one to get militant or indignant about how stupid the whole thing is. I live by the “who am I to judge” motto, especially after a 12-hour day and a gin and tonic. So he prattled on and on, looking for some kind of something from me and really, all I could muster is a, “wow, that must be challenging” which is Grade A consultant speak for “Mary, pleeeeease.” Then he got it and left and I got back to my quiet chilling out with my empty, uncomplicated glass and thankful for it.
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